#local limousine

[cubicalseo]

Location Page Optimization For Local Seo Template

Local Search Engine Optimization (SEO), a strategic process which aims to enhance the business’s visibility in local search engine results to attract higher prospective customers from different geographical areas. Unlike regular SEO, which is focused on improving a website’s visibility on a national or global scale. Local SEO for Limousine business or any other business prioritizes results that appeared in search for users who are looking for products or services in a specific geographical location. This is one of the essential approaches that businesses use to operate on a local level as this can help in directly targeting the local audience that is most likely to be a customer. Local SEO involves optimizing of business’s online presence to ensure its appearance in ‘local or map pack’. This section of the search engine provides information about the local businesses that are related to the query, complete with a map, business information, and reviews. The essential key components involved in a local SEO are claiming and optimizing a Google My Business listing, ensuring consistency of business details across various online platforms such as NAP (Name, address, and phone number), accumulation of customer reviews, and content creation with local relevance.

The distinction between a regular and local SEO is based on the intent and geographical focus. Regular or general SEO targets broad keywords and audiences but the local SEO is focused on geographically-specific keywords and places of higher emphasis on local signals. By this Local SEO can help businesses to connect with local customers especially when they are looking for related services or products, contributing to significant increase in the chances of attracting foot traffic and local inquiries.

Read more: https://www.cubicalseo.com/blog/location-page-optimization-for-local-seo-template

[atlantaairporttaxilimos]

Atlanta Airport Taxi Service and car service in and around the cities surrounding Atlanta, GA. Including Marietta, Alpharetta, Norcross, and Lilburn ( click here to see a list of all the cities we serve in Central Georgia ). We take great pride in offering the award-winning level of airport car service we have become known for at flat rates that are even lower than our metered taxi rates.

[cheammini]

Cheam is a suburb located in Greater London, and while it does not have its own airport, it is in close proximity to several major airports in London, such as London Heathrow Airport (LHR), London Gatwick Airport (LGW), London Stansted Airport (STN), and London City Airport (LCY). 

Airport Transfers: Mini cabs can be used for convenient and comfortable transfers to and from airports. They can pick you up from your location in Cheam and drop you off at the airport or vice versa.

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[busrent]

Experience the epitome of luxury and convenience with Unique Limos, a local limousine company Toronto is proudly serving diverse community. Our round-the-clock limo transportation services cater to locals, tourists, and corporate clients alike. Whether you're seeking a late-model rental party bus toronto for family adventures or a sophisticated airport pick-up for esteemed business clients, our commitment to a secure and lavish journey in our limousines is unwavering.

Boasting a decade of expertise, we stand ever-prepared to deliver utmost satisfaction to our valued clients. Our fleet of unique limo buses GTA are thoughtfully outfitted with modern amenities, elevating your travel experience to a realm of comfort, relaxation, and seamless convenience. Day or night, our pledge of punctuality and departure in meticulously maintained, pristine limos remains steadfast.

As a trusted and established presence in the industry, Unique Limos has dedicated the past ten years to serving the Greater Toronto Area with distinction. Our adept team of trained chauffeurs and drivers are committed to achieving customer satisfaction through an exceptional standard of service. From unforgettable party bus rentals and bespoke corporate services to seamless Toronto airport limo transfers, our offerings reflect the pinnacle of opulent travel. Choose Unique Limos for a reliable limo rentals, transforming your transportation needs into memorable experiences. This is the best company in Toronto limousine services where best quality and satisfactory corporate limo services are provided in affordable price. So don’t think more and enjoy the service of this company.

[platinumluxurylimoservice]

Elevate your party experience with our local limousine company, offering luxury rides that make every moment unforgettable. For more information read the article.

[nationwidecarservice]

Exceed Prom Transportation Expectations with a Party Bus Rental in San Jose

Upgrade your prom game with a party bus rental in San Jose to make the transport efficient, secure, glamorous, and paramacular! Prom should be a special time in the lives of teenagers. As students dress in formalwear, snag dates with the crushes of the moment, and practice dance moves that aren’t too embarrassing, they are probably also concerned about the transportation for the night. With a…

[gaexpress]

Local Attractions Pickup Service, the best customer service training ensures that chauffeurs go above and beyond to make your journey as comfortable as possible.

[leclerced]

what happens in vegas | mv1 cl16

Summary: Charles and Max finger Charles’s fwb in a limousine while her and Max are standing through the sunroof driving through Vegas

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Warnings: messily written while high and tired, don’t read if you’re under 18. also this would never realistically happen but i’m a slut for unrealistic fantasies

Author’s Note: idk how i feel about this i wrote it after trying and failing to fall back asleep after waking up, and i wrote this rq then didnt know if i liked it enough to continue so pls if u like it and want more lmk if i should continue!

They were in Vegas, her best friend Charles had invited her to the city for their inaugural race. She had known him since they were kids and her brother karted with Charles and Max, but he gave up racing to be an engineer and she kept attending the local races to cheer Charles on. Max had won the race and Charles had come in second right behind him, so the trio was out celebrating. It was still weird to her that they were friends after their childhood rivalry, maybe because for years she tried to get over her crush and hate him because he was beating Charles and that was enough, except it clearly wasn’t. Now they were older and Charles was his friend, so she couldn’t really hate him for winning, and she never really got over the crush either. Charles had rented a limousine to drive them around the city in celebration and they were squeezed into the sun roof to watch the lights as they drove through the city.

Her back was pressed to his chest and his hands were resting on the roof on either side of her, trapping her in place. She wouldn’t be flustered if it were anyone else, but they had been hooking up since they were eighteen and at this point the only time they weren’t was the rare occasion one of them was in a relationship. The feel of his body against hers was driving her wild, and she wanted to go back to the hotel and have her way with him. She knew that no matter what time they left, they would end up wrapped up in each other but she didn’t know how long she could hold out. They had already gone to two clubs and were on their way to a third when his lips moved to her right ear, “I’ve got a proposal for you, been thinking on it for a while.”

She turned in his arms, barely having enough room in the sunroof, but after a moment her back was pressing against the edge of the roof as she leaned back and tilted her head up to him questioningly. Just knowing he had been thinking about it for a while had piqued her interest. Charles stared at her for a second, eyes flicking from her eyes to her lips and back before he said, “How would you feel about Max joining us?” A shiver ran up her spine and her eyebrows raised, and she’d wondered if he had caught her looking at Max all night.

She giggled and asked, “And what exactly have you been thinking about?”

He grinned and retorted, “That’s for me to know and you to find out, if you say yes.” She thought about it for a moment before nodding, mind running through ideas of what he had been thinking about and she couldn’t form a coherent thought to say yes. He grinned and kissed her his hands moving from the roof to grip her waist and pull her closer, despite the fact they were already pressed together. The kiss didn’t last long as he started pulling away and lowering himself back into the limousine, she stayed in place, not wanting to look Max in the eyes when Charles asked him. She focused on the lights blurring around her, the other cars speeding by and the feel of the wind around her. It wasn’t long before she felt hands on her body as someone squeezed into the sunroof next to her.

Max was suddenly pressed chest to chest with her and she was looking straight into his eyes, “Hi there.” She squeaked out, and he grinned at her.

“Hi,” he said as his hands slid from her hips to her waist and her eyes flitted to his lips as he asked, “This really never crossed your mind before?”

She blushed and shrugged, unsure how much she should divulge. “I won’t lie, I’ve thought about you before, but never both of you at the same time.”

The words sent a shock through Max, he wasn’t expecting her to say yes, assuming she only agreed for Charles. He had crushed on her for years and it only got worse when he got close to Charles once they were older and she was around much more often, only to find out they were entangled with each other. Charles knew Max liked her, they had talked about it before when he drunkenly complained she was mean to him and Charles just said that’s how she is, to which Max said not with you. He couldn’t forget the grin on Charles’s face when he said “Well that’s because we fuck sometimes. She treats you the same as Carlos, or like Daniel.” He had made a face at that remark and Charles teased him about being jealous, then asked if Max liked her and when he didn’t confirm nor deny, Charles knew it was a yes. Knowing that she had been thinking about him made his head spin, wondering if she felt an ounce of what he did for her. He was just about to say something when her eyes widened and she pressed her face into his chest. He thought they hit a bump, but he didn’t feel anything other than her arms grasping for her biceps as she rocked forward. A shudder ran through Max’s body as her heard her moan and her nails dug into his skin. She shifted on her feet and pressed her lips to his neck as she whimpered, and he squeezed her waist, wondering what had gotten into her all of a sudden.

She was waiting for Max to do or say something when she felt her dress lift and Charles’s hand smack her left cheek. Her body rocked into Max’s as she moaned embarrassingly, pressing her forehead to his chest to hide her flushed face as Charles repeated the action on the other side and she gasped, “He just—spanked me.” Charles’s hand massaged her ass where he just spanked it for a moment before he slipped it between her legs. Her mind was spinning as she hid her face in Max’s neck, desperately biting her neck to cover her moans as Charles brushed her panties aside and slipped two fingers inside of her, curling them immediately.

Max couldn’t tell what Charles was doing in the car beneath his view, but it had made her start kissing his neck while she moaned against him so he couldn’t complain. “What’s he doing now?” She whined at his question, embarrassed to answer, but she pressed herself closer and her lips ghosted against his ear as she moaned fingering me. The words made his cock twitch and his right hand left her waist to slot between them, hands slow but curious as they traced their way down her stomach and over the mound of pubic hair until it met Charles’s fingers dipping inside of her. His fingers found her clit and he was rewarded with a moan of his name as she bit his neck.

She felt like she was going to collapse when Max pressed his fingers against her and slid them up to her clit, toes curling in her heels as she succumbed to the pleasure. She knew this was bad, it was very very vwry bad. They all knew it was bad. It was unlikely anyone could get an image or video of her and Max right now with them on the highway, but if they did… She didn’t want to think about the scandal, but it turned her on even more knowing that Charles and Max were so comfortable touching her like this. That Charles had started it while her and Max were standing in the sunroof of a limousine. She wasn’t going to last much longer, her legs were shaking and she was gripping onto Max for dear life. “Maxie, ‘m gna cum.” She whined out against his skin and she felt his fingers press harder against her and she nipped at his skin. “Come on, schatje, cum for us.” Charles curled his fingers as he spoke and she would have collapsed if not for Max’s arm sliding around her waist and holding her against him as she came. Her orgasm rocked through her and she sloppily kissed his neck between moans until she was gasping for air as her orgasm faded and she started trying to get their hands away from her as oversensitivity set in. She had left a hickey on Max’s neck that was bright red when she pulled away, but he didn’t seem to care as he immediately dipped down and kissed her. She could feel Charles fixing her panties and dress as their lips met and she let him kiss her as she basked in her orgasm.

He pulled apart after a moment then sank down into the car again and she quickly followed, sinking down between them and looking back and forth between them before giggling, “What was that?”

Charles shrugged, “I was getting bored all alone down here, wanted something to play with.” She slapped at his shoulder as he laughed and asked, “So, back to the hotel then?”

[zweiginator]

Thoughts on forbidden love with Patrick?

i’m thinking patrick’s dad is a politician of sorts, running for a local election. your dad is his opponent. they despise each other, even with similar policy goals. it’s all in the name of the game.

you have to go to a gala. your father says it will look good for him if his kids are there. makes him look like a family man. he’s never been very involved in your life so you scoff, but eventually agree to go. an excuse to wear a nice gown and drink champagne can’t be half bad.

you arrive in a limousine; your father gives you and your siblings a pep talk. speak to people. mingle. smile and look happy.

you all agree, half heartedly. in reality you can’t wait for it to be over.

you see your father’s opponent step out of the limo parked adjacent to the one you’re in, holding his arm out for his wife to grasp onto.

and their son, whom you’ve never met, steps out from the other door, a cigarette limp between his lips. he cups his hands around it to light it. his father shakes his head, plucking it out of his mouth and throwing it away.

“patrick. have some decorum. at least wait until you can step away.” his father is stern, much like yours. always so concerned about image, like his son smoking is a blow to his campaign, a horrible, unforgivable moral failing.

patrick is his name, you guess. he looks handsome in a freshly pressed suit. his tie is crisp and his shoulders look strong and broad but you can tell he’s uncomfortable. that much like you, he was dragged here. a token, a symbol of a good family man. one that is fraudulent.

you step out of the car, and your father is obviously amused by patrick being scolded by his father. to him, it’s a point for his own campaign. an adult son smoking a cigarette, how awfully scandalous.

it’s all so fucking ridiculous.

patrick eyes you. your royal purple gown is perfect; your mother paid for it to be tailored and hemmed so it fits you in a way that nothing else ever has.

the whole night, patrick seems to be near you. he mingles with other families, pretends to find their monotonous conversations about summer homes and investments interesting. he tells them about tennis; you didn’t know he plays. but then again, he does look familiar, like maybe you’ve seen him around at the country club your dad is a member to.

patrick’s hand ghosts over your lower back when he moves past you; you notice he’s going out of his way to be near you. he raises his eyebrows at you over his flute of champagne.

you exchange glances all night, knowing glances of boredom and the exhaustion of meaningless talk with the most insufferable elites in your town.

you follow him when he leaves to go outside. he shows you a box of cigarettes, but you figured that was his plan before they left his breast pocket.

“we shouldn’t be speaking.” patrick says, taking a drag. he offers you one but you decline. if your father smells it, he’ll berate you for days. then again, if he sees you alone with patrick, his reaction will be far worse.

“is it against the rules to speak to an opponent’s kid? i don’t think it is, necessarily.”

“shouldn’t be. but our fathers would kill each other if it were legal.” patrick taps the ashes next to his shoe.

“i don’t care about my dad’s stupid campaign.” you respond. patrick is tall; he towers over you. his hair is messy and his jacket is slung over one of his shoulders. he shakes his head, taking another drag. this one is long; it stays stagnant in his lungs until his next breath.

“i don’t care either. in fact, i hope they both lose miserably.”

patrick knows your father knows who he is. the local tennis prodigy and son of his worst enemy. he has a few drug scandals, a couple incidents regarding public sex. all things that his father paid to suppress. but your father knows about them. patrick has a reputation for spreading a wildfire through everything he touches. he’s talented and handsome and charismatic—he gets it from his father. and that’s exactly the reason why your father’s cheeks heat up as he sees you alone with him by the river.

patrick sees your father watching; he’s facing him, but your back is turned, your shoulders peppered with goosebumps. patrick drapes his suit jacket over your shoulders and tilts your chin up. kisses you softly at first. and then he’s more needy, his hands roaming the soft expanse of your back, covered in pretty satin.

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 395: Cat n Mouse, p6 (Bliss Interlude Number Two)

“Yes, for sure our female viewers are excited about the grand opening of Far Horizons Evolution Center,” replied Julie Winters, reporter for Channel 5, handing the microphone to Melissa herself, “but let’s hear more about you…” The casual-seeming interview was being done in the back of a big limousine. 

While onscreen Melissa giggled, Aubrey Henson just sat back on her couch and groaned. Her hands ran up and down her thighs. She was home alone, and for the ninth time tonight she was watching this news piece on replay, a teaser interview of her Office Manager by the local news station that was covering the office’s expansion. All part of the station’s plan to establish itself as a voice of the rising order of female leadership, it wanted to do a profile on Melissa. This was the first in a series on her that would be airing over the coming weeks. They’d already started doing other interviews of other local women leaders, but this was the first installment on Melissa. It had played tonight on the evening news, and was set to go again on the late night edition. People everywhere in the city would see it, people everywhere would see her. Aubrey had recorded this earlier broadcast.  She had been so excited about seeing Melissa onscreen, but had no idea it’d feel like this. 

“Oooohhh….” she moaned, listening to Melissa’s answers to the reporter’s questions. A little about work, but mostly simple, personal things. Her likes and dislikes (‘kitties!’, ‘mean people!’). How she gets her hair so pretty. How tall she was. 

“Six-foot eight…!” Melissa replied, laughing with microphone in hand and - for that answer - looking straight into the camera with those gorgeous, flashing eyes and big, white smile, “And still G-G-GRRROWING!!”

“Nnnngh oh my god…fuck…” Aubrey responded, her purr turning into a near-growl. “She’s so beautiful!!” She’d rewatched Melissa’s answer to that over and over and over earlier. They know, they know, Aubrey gasped to herself, in illicit, electrified excitement as her hands slid between her thighs. Now they all know.

Channel 5’s Evening News had a viewership of 56,000, making it the new leader in the Adults 25-54 demographic for the market, male and female. 

“Six-eight!? Well that’s amazing!” the off-screen reporter replied to Melissa, “and I’m sure that you’re - haha! - going to have a lot of admirers after this interview! Can you tell our viewers where they can find you again?”

“Oh, at Far Horizons of course! I’m normally…oh <giggle!> you mean, like, my social media? It’s…”

“OH. MY GOD,” Aubrey belted out, to the empty living room of her well-appointed apartment. It was small, but she had decorated nicely. “AH JESUS FUCK!” She was imagining men, men everywhere, subscribing, following Melissa, lurking, staring with glazed eyes, unzipping and offering themselves up to- “OH FUCK MELISSA YOU’RE A GOD!!”

In case you’d been wondering, when left to her own devices and away from other ears, Aubrey Henson tended to curse like a sailor. She was becoming preternaturally sensitive, a natural empath, but damn…the mouth on her. Like making up stories for  her journal, it was one of her secret vices. 

Aubrey had taken the time, earlier, to check Melissa’s Instagram numbers, for her public account. They’d begun to skyrocket exponentially as soon as the news piece aired. Just looking at those climbing - so fast! - had nearly made her soak out her panties again. She was sure that if she checked in now, there’d be another doubling, or redoubling again. To make matters even - nnngh! hell! - more overwhelming Melissa was, at the present moment, obviously with him. One Bliss had come earlier, and another one was-

Coming On

Oh god oh shit oh god here it comes it’s coming it’s coming it’s coming

So

Fucking

HARD.

Aubrey’s bra was about  to burst. She could feel her spine lengthening, her pelvis widening.

Nnnnngggh!!!

Melissa Melissa Melissa my god I love you I want to be yoursss yours to command make me morrrrrrrrrrrrrre…

=============================

[blackbird5154]

Another fan theory about Square Hammer

At first glance, in the music video, we have two Papas confronting each other. Terzo-the-actor is terrified that the plot of the movie has gone off script, and then he is haunted by his demonic counterpart. But remember how the music video ends: Spectre and Papa-the-actor look at each other, and the same fire glances in their eyes.

What if Papa is the one actually running this whole demonstration? There was a projector in the cinema theater that at one point was engulfed in green lightning bolts. Green lightning is Papa's power, right? What if the huge figure in the sky was not a ghost, but a projection?

The whole thing looks like a spectacular hoax conceived by Papa. Let's remember that he's something of a Batman (there's a reason the ghost-signal, similar to the bat-signal, appears in the music video). Papa leads the life of a successful actor/singer, drives a limousine, and at night fights the local cultists/oligarchs in the guise of Misterious Spectre, according to the paper. And he clearly doesn't need anyone to know that Bruce Wayne and Batman are the same person.

This seems like a modus operandi of exactly that character. He unleashes his huge projection on the city to create an alibi for himself. Batman can't be Bruce, since they were seen in the same location. Ozymandias can't be the villain, because he himself was the target of an assassination attempt (which he staged himself). Recall how Spectre stretched his arm out of the screen and reached into the audience, but without reaching Papa. Remember how Papa was demonstratively frightened and with what a calm face he let that hand pass over him.

Now back to the beginning. In the City, Papa has quarreled with the local rulers and is at war with them. He seeks to take away their power (energy supply/authority), and he's like Prometheus for stealing a piece of celestial fire and running away with it. Question: what for was all this demonstration over the city and what did Papa really want to pull off while everyone was distracted by the kaiju ghost and panicking? Was it an act of intimidation or a distraction so Papa-the-actor could fulfill his real plan? And what does this have to do with Cardinalis cardinalis?

[ataldaprotagonista]

você, kuku e fer contigiani (ao mesmo tempo hihi)

Ao mesmo tempo...

Porra, desde que fizeram aquela peça juntos - peça essa que encenavam um triângulo amoroso - não tirava eles da cabeça.

Beijava e era beijada pelos dois... ao mesmo tempo.

E mesmo sendo uma atriz muito profissional, não conseguia deixar de pensar e fantasiar no ato de realmente ser invadida por eles... ao mesmo tempo.

Ambos eram calmos, serenos, mais velhos, bem maiores que você e te respeitavam, ouviam e entendiam como ninguém.

Na última apresentação da temporada, um dos patrocinadores deu de presente, a vocês três, um fim de semana exclusivo com tudo incluso em um chalé no sul argentino. Um motorista buscaria vocês em casa, levaria até o local e pegaria vocês novamente domingo de noite.

Poderiam levar acompanhantes mas não chegou a pensar em ninguém. Não pensou porque suas duas unicas opções já estavam completamente convidadas.

Passou a semana toda ansiosa se perguntando quem eles levariam para lá.

Familiares? Namoradas? Ficantes? Noivas? ESPOSAS?

Montou sua malinha com roupas quentinhas pois averiguou a previsão e faria frio, tomou um banho relaxante, ficou cheirosa e bonita. Deitou na cama, mexeu no celular por um tempo, respondeu alguns fãs e já recebeu uma mensagem de Kuku. 

"pronta?"

"sim e você?"

Largou o celular na cama com os pensamentos a mil sobre essa viagenzinha, mas logo a notificação pipocou com a mensagem de Contigiani.

"estamos aqui em baixo"

Seu coração começou a bater mais rápido quando trancou a porta de casa com uma mala média de rodinhas em mãos, desceu o elevador do seu apartamento no centro de Buenos Aires e um carro preto grande estava parado na frente do portão. Se despediu do porteiro com um aceno e ao descer as escadas para chegar na porta Esteban saiu todo lindinho de dentro do veículo e abriu o portão para você.

Ele vestia calças beges, um tênis da nike e um moletom, sem touca e sem zíper, azul escuro com as mangas levemente erguidas = gostoso.

- Oi, chiquita - disse te abraçando e logo pegou sua mala e bolsa de mão. Enquanto ele depositava as coisas no porta-malas você ja foi entrando no carrão e deu de cara com o moreno esparramado no banco.

Ele vestia os mesmos modelos que Kukurizcka, porém, tudo preto.

Era um carro grande e espaçoso, quase como uma limousine, então tinham três bancos e o último canto era uma bancadinha com potinhos recheados de doces e, pasmem, uma mini geladeira.

- Linda!! - ele te cumprimento puxando para um abraço pela parte de trás do pescoço, maldade a dele pois você ficou toda arrepiadinha - Eai, animada? - Esteban entrou, sentou ao seu lado e fechou a porta.

O motorista logo deu partida.

- Eu tô e vocês? - eles responderam afirmações com belos sorrisos no rosto - Cadê as convidadas de vocês?

Eles se encararam e algo dentro de você acendeu.

- Você vai ser a nossa companhia - respondeu Fernando com um sorrisinho no rosto, que te fez corar.

- É, b-bom... nós pensamos que seria legal esse momento só nós três, né Fer? - disse Esteban.

O moreno assentiu.

- Sim, um fim de semana de amigos - mas o sorrisinho que estampava e não saia do rosto dele, indicava outra coisa.

...

A viagem de quatro horas até o chalé foi tranquila, ouviram música, conversaram, dormiram...  Esteban tinha levado uma cobertinha e vocês dividiram durante o trajeto. Sem perceber acabaram encostados um no outro.

Chegaram e você foi a primeira a explorar cada cômodo daquele lugar, abrir cada porta e explorar cada cantinho. Eles vieram atrás rindo da sua empolgação e carregando as malas. Eram três quartos com cama de casal e então cada um se instalou em um quarto. 

Como ainda estava cedo, faltando poucas horas para o por do sol, vocês foram dar uma volta ao redor, passaram por um lago, animais, tiraram fotinhos mas esfriou tanto que decidiram retornar  à casinha de madeira acolhedora.

- Carajo, linda - disse o moreno pegando na sua mão assim que entraram em casa, você escutou o som da porta grande de madeira batendo atrás de si - Sua mão está congelando. Olha só, Kuku - o mais velho se aproximou e encostou na sua mão.

- É verdade, chiquita. Tienemos que hacer algo, si?

Você revezou olhares entre um e outro.

- A-acho que eu tomo um banho rápido e já me esquento.

- Noo, no necessitas, bebita - por que a voz de Contigiani soava tão malicioso - Venha aca - te arrastou para o sofá da sala - O que acha de uma massagem, huh?

Puta merda, o que eles tão fazendo? 

Tão burrinha que é, não chegou a imaginar o papo que rolou no camarim do moreno depois que eles souberam desse presente que receberam.

"- Porra, Esteban vai ser a nossa chance!

- Hermano, não sei se ela vai ficar afim...

- Como assim "não sei se ela vai ficar afim"? Porra, só falta ela gozar quando a gente amassa ela no palco.

- É que ela é uma ótima atriz, né porra.

- Não disse que ela não era. Só que... aqueles olhares sedentos, nem Fernanda Montenegro - que você citava tanto e fez eles assitirem tudo disponível dela - seria capaz - Kuku riu e se encarou no espelho reflentindo...

- Tudo bem, mas só se ela beijar um de nós primeiro."

Então sim.

Eles te queriam tanto quanto você queria eles.

Mas não foi fácil quando, pra te esquentar, abriram o zíper do seu casaco e o jogaram longe.

- Vai me deixar pelada pra me esquenta, é? - falou divertida, não entendendo a situação. Eles riram e você se sentiu tão pequena entre eles.

- Tranquilla, chiquita - falou Esteban a sua frente enquanto Fer estava parado logo atrás.

- A gente só quer saber se a gente tá certo numa coisinha aí, né Kuku?

- Q-que coisinha? - questionou inebriada pelo perfume deles se misturando ao seu, ao mesmo tempo que sentia Contigiane apoiando a cabeça dele no topo da sua enquanto enlaçava sua cintura.

As mãos bobas dele passearam pelas laterais do seu corpo fazendo com que você se arrepiasse mais ainda, deixando os mamilos durinhos quase que a mostra na blusa de manga cumprida, sem sutiã,  que vestia por baixo do casaco.

- Que você é taradinha na gente - sussurrou no seu ouvido como se fosse nada. Seu corpo todo se enrigeceu, engoliu em seco e respondeu:

- D-do que vocês tão falando?

- Ah, então não é verdade?

- O quê?

- Que você fica molhadinha quando a gente te agarra em cena?

Sim, você ficava.

Porra!

Cadê a lobona femme fattalle brasileira sedenta faminta que devora rapazes e não fica encolhidinha tremendo tipo uma ovelha?

Surpreendendo os dois, e a si mesma, respondeu:

- Fico.

A cara de choque estampada no rosto de Esteban demonstrava a mesma reação de Contigiane logo atrás, eles realmente não esperavam você se abrir tão de pressa. Esticou as mãos e com uma certa dificuldade, pela diferença de altura, puxou o pescoço de Kuku, fazendo com que os rostos se aproximassem.

- Fico molhada, cheia de tesão.... eai? - olhou perigosamente pra trás - Vão fazer o quê?

No instante seguinte Fernando atacou seu pescoço com os lábios mácios e sua boca foi de encontro a do mais velho. Beijava o loirinho e era beijada pelo moreno.

As mãos eram grandes, confusas e ágeis indo e vindo pelo seu corpo arrepiado.

Aos poucos as peças de roupa chegaram ao chão e você estava sentada no sofá peluciado com Fer maltratando seus seios e Kuku se deliciando com lambidas e chupadas lá em baixo.

- Olha que safada, Kuku. Teve coragem pra admitir que é uma putinha doida pra dar pra nós dois - falou dando tapinhas nos peitos e beijos no rosto. Acho que o mais velho nem ouviu, tava batendo uma ouvindo seus gemidos enquanto te devorava. - Fala, linda. Fala o que você é.

E você falou.

- Boa garota.

- Kuku - gemeu alcançando os cabelos dele, estava quase gozando. Ele ergueu a cabeça e você se frustrou um pouco. Poxa, estava quase lá.

- Vai gozar no meu pau - falou ficando de pé e você se assustou ao ver o tamanho e a beleza daquele pau. Ele sentou na poltrona próxima ao sofá e deu dois tapinhas na coxa, você pensou que poderia ter gozado ali mesmo, só com aquela cena.

Queria chupar os dois, ao mesmo tempo, antes de tudo, mas sabia que teria tempo pra isso mais tarde.

Com uma falsa timidez se aproximou dele, sentando de frente, com uma perna de cada lado. Começou indo para frente e pra trás, deixando-o lubrificado com sua própria excitação. Ele jogou a cabeça e braços pra trás e gemeu.

- Ué? - você disse cruzando os braços fingindo confusão.

Ele te encarou com o sorrisinho sacana e perguntou arrastado o que tava acontecendo:

- Qué paso ahora, cariño?

- Nem fiz nada e já tá derretido aí - brincou e ele rindo te puxou pela parte de trás do pescoço para um beijo. Você espalmou as mãos nos ombros dele e percebeu quando a mãozona de Kuku se esgueirou por debaixo encaixando a cabeça do pau na sua entrada.

Você gemeu e escorregou para baixo sentindo tudo. 

Ambos gemeram a medida que você se movia.

Fernando se masturbava do sofá observando a cena, só esperando o momento de te atacar também. Ele dizia mais algumas coisas mas você tava focada naquele pau enorme te invadindo e nos gemidos retraídos que ouvia.

Mais sentadas (as melhores da vida do Kuku) e o mais velho arriscou brincar com seu clitóris. Foi ali que tudo acabou pra você.

- P-posso d-dentro? - as frases desconexas dele deixaram claras as intenções.

E sim, tudo o que você mais queria era sentí-lo dentro.

Depois que respondeu um "sim" trêmulo e ansioso, não demorou muito para gozarem.

Não teve muito tempo para descansar do orgasmo deitada sobre o loiro.

- Ela é minha agora - falou te puxando pra cima e tirando do colo dele.

Tinha o gozo de Esteban dentro, mas com Fernando não tinha tempo ruim.... te deitou desajeitadamente no sofá, colocou a cabecinha dentro, segurou seu pescoço para então meter o comprimento.

Você gemeu, mas tinha que manter seu olhar no dele.

- Se gozou com ele, quero que goze comigo. - deu um tapinha no rosto quando viu você ficando molinha de cansaço e tesão - Hm? Consegue? Perra. Ou quando o Kuku te encheu de porra ficou toda bobinha.

Sentiu cada investida dele dentro de você.

***

Já haviam tomado banho, estavam aquecidos e  jantando juntos numa mesa circular com um bom vinho e luz de velas, Kuku estava mais próximo e tava acabando com todo o queijo ralado.

- Que bonitinha,  aguentou nós dois ao mesmo tempo - falou ele com óculos de grau dando dois tapinhas na sua cabeça depois de engolir uma colherada de macarrão com carne de cordeiro (e cheia de queijo) - Mas quero ver quando vai aguentar um em cada buraco ao mesmo tempo - finalizou te deixando vermelha.

- E eu, quero ver quando vai levar os dois no mesmo buraco, ao mesmo tempo - brincou Fer, te fazendo arregalar os olhos e os dois rirem. 

- Relaxa, nena. - o loiro se aproximou dando um beijinho na sua bochecha.

- Isso, relaxa! - continuou o moreno - Temos o resto do final de semana todo pra fazer isso acontecer.

olha oq eu achei:

as mãos, mulheres, as maos

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[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 10

It was the era of the Polaroid and the beginning of videotape. He was the director and I his star acting out fantasies. We dressed up and undressed, played and wrestled, told stories, acted out our fantasies, and invented scenes. Whether it was dressing up in my school uniform and playing at being a sweet, innocent schoolgirl, or a secretary coming home from work and relaxing in the privacy of her own bedroom, or a teacher seducing her student, we were always inventing new stories, and eventually, I learned what stimulated Matt the most.

Almost every night I made quick trips to the local drugstore to buy considerable amounts of Polaroid film. Some of the cashiers knew me, and I wondered if they suspected what we were doing.

I put on dark glasses to “disguise” myself, but ended up looking even more conspicuous as I’d sweetly request twelve packs of Polaroid film while making excuses like, “Gee, the others must have been defective. I just can’t seem to get them to come out right,” or “You’re not going to believe this, but someone stole my film.”

Making it in and out of Graceland was no easy feat, either. I’d pass Mr. Stall at the gate at odd hours of the night, smiling and waving hello, returning shortly with the same smile and the same wave. I was sure he harbored some suspicious thoughts about what I was doing.

Matt laughed when I told him. “It’s all in your mind. He’s no more thinking anything than a dog sleeping.”

“Well, what if he starts spreading rumors, like I go out at night?”

“It might create some excitement around here. This town’s dead. Boston needs a little gossip!”

Matt and I both loved creating these sexual fantasies and it seemed to bring us closer together. I had no previous sexual experience to compare with his inventive sexuality and I was ready to indulge him any way I could. Being in the fast lane, he was exposed to every pleasure available in life. Ordinary thrills sometimes were not enough, especially when he was under the influence of powerful drugs.

At first I was totally open to Matt and many of his ideas. I lived for those moments we were alone. I was careful to say little that might jeopardize my bond with him. I fulfilled his needs, and his beliefs became mine. Under no circumstances were his ideas or playfulness perverted or in any way harmful.

A few days after he came home, he led me to his long black limousine and we sped off to one of Boston’s most exclusive boutiques on Union Street for some after-hours shopping, just as we’d done in Las Vegas. While the boys milled around the shop and the store’s sales staff tried to look nonchalant, Matt got a big kick out of having me model dozens of stunning dresses and suits and coats that were so stylish I was doubtful I could wear them. I was still an insecure teenager.

“Matt,” I said, wearing a sexy gold lamé gown that clung to my every curve, “these clothes are too sophisticated for me.”

“Sophisticated?” he said, regarding me admiringly. “What’s sophisticated? You could go around wearing a feather and that would be sophisticated.”

“Well, bring me a feather then.”

We spent four hours at that shop and during that time, I had a personalized lesson in the Matt Sturniolo Fashion Course.

As I tried on dress after dress, Matt delivered a running commentary on color. He liked me in red, blue, turquoise, emerald green, and black and white—the same colors he himself wore. He liked solids only, declaring that large prints took away from my looks. “Too distracting,” he said. He hated browns and dark green, colors inextricably associated in his mind with the Army.

Exhausted and a little confused about my new look, I walked out of the shop dressed in a sleek black linen suit with four-inch highheeled shoes to match. With Matt sitting proudly beside me, the guys loaded the trunk of the limo with armfuls of packages, and I felt very special.

Back at Graceland he had me model all my new clothes again for Grandma, who patiently sat through a long two hours of changes. I was Matt’s doll, his own living doll, to fashion as he pleased.

It was the early sixties, when clothes and makeup veered to extremes. Women’s eyeliner was heavier, their hair more teased, and their skirts shorter than ever before. All the rules I’d learned about dressing and applying makeup (less is more, the simpler the better) were being broken, and men seemed to love it. Matt certainly did. If I went a little light with the mascara or black eyeliner, he’d send me back upstairs to apply it more heavily.

Matt liked long hair. When I’d cut mine without asking his permission, he was shocked.

“How could you cut your goddamn hair? You know I like long hair. Men love long hair.”

He wanted it long and jet black, dyed to match his because, as he said, “You have pretty eyes, baby. Black hair will make your eyes stand out more.” He made a lot of sense to me and soon my hair was dyed jet black, like his.

The more we were together the more I came to resemble him in every way. His tastes, his insecurities, his hang-ups—all became mine.

For instance, high collars were his trademark, not because he especially liked them, but because he felt his neck looked too long. He never felt comfortable unless he was in a customized high-collared shirt, though in a pinch he’d turn the collar up on a regular shirt as he had when he was in school.

When he told me that the collar I was wearing on a particular blouse was too small for my “long, skinny neck,” I too began wearing high-collared shirts. Why not? My sole ambition was to please him, to be rewarded with his approval and affection. When he criticized me, I fell to pieces.

The Pygmalion nature of our relationship was a mixed blessing. The most fundamental thing at this stage in our life together was that Matt was my mentor, someone who studied my every gesture, listened critically to my every utterance, and was generous, to a fault, with advice.

When I did something that wasn’t to his liking, I was corrected. It is extremely difficult to relax under such scrutiny. Little escaped him. Little except the most salient fact of allthat I was a volcano about to erupt.

There were evenings when he’d send me back upstairs to change clothes because my choice was “dull,” “unflattering,” or “not dressy enough” for him. Even the way I walked came under review; he told me to move more slowly, and for a short while, he had me walking around the house with a book on my head.

I appreciated his interest, but I hated having to hear him remind me of my shortcomings so many times, and each time having to promise him that he’d never have to tell me again.

Would I ever be able to live up to his vision of how his ideal woman should behave and appear? She had to be sensitive, loving, and extremely understanding, meeting unusual demands any average woman might reject. This included being left behind when he made spur-of-the-moment, questionable “business” trips.

She had to be pretty and she had to possess an offbeat sense of humor to survive all the joking at Graceland. Often I’d walk into Sunday afternoon football gatherings and hear inside jokes about the cute all-American cheerleaders. Eventually I found myself thinking like one of the guys. “Nice tits and ass,” I’d say to myself. “A little heavy in the thighs, but the face makes up for it.”

Matt had a strong aversion to wearing jeans. As a poor boy, he had no choice but to wear them and he never wanted to lay eyes on another pair. That applied to everyone in the group.

His firm ideas on my wardrobe didn’t make it easy for me to go out and buy clothes for myself. One day I came home proud of a dress I’d just bought and couldn’t wait to put on. I knew he didn’t like prints, but this was a blackand-white flowered silk that I thought very special.

The first words out of his mouth when he saw me were: “That dress doesn’t suit you. Does nothing for you. Takes away from your face, your eyes. All you see’s the dress.”

As he tore me apart I started to cry. “Are you quite finished?” I inquired. I didn’t give him a chance to answer, bolting for my bathroom and slamming the door.

A few minutes later I heard his voice from the other side of the door: “You gotta keep away from those large prints. You’re a small girl, Sattnin.”

I opened the bathroom door and snapped, “Okay, I’ll return the fuckin’ dress.”

Matt fell to the floor laughing; eventually I joined in, unable to stop myself. Once again I’d compromised my own taste.

He ignored no aspect of my appearance, including my teeth. He took me to his dentist, told him to clean my teeth and give me a thorough examination. He was to look for probable cavities only and should I need any fillings, they were to be made of white porcelain. To him a mouth loaded with gold or silver was an eyesore.

He was equally fanatical about posture. If I slumped, he’d straighten my back. When I’d look up at him and wrinkle my forehead, he’d smooth it out—or tap it—telling me not to get in that habit. I didn’t like him rapping me, so I learned that one fast.

When we came home from the movies one night, I was getting ready for bed and he was in his office playing the piano. I came in to listen, propping my foot on the bench where he was sitting. He looked down at a small chip in my nail polish and I immediately withdrew my foot from the bench and started making up excuses about why it wasn’t fixed. “I’m going to have my pedicure tomorrow,” I promised.

“Good,” he said, “cause that doesn’t look like my Little Girl’s. You should always keep them looking nice.”

I was leading a double life—a schoolgirl by day, a femme fatale by night. Our evening appearance downstairs usually resembled a grand entrance. Even when our only intention was to have dinner, we always dressed for the occasion. Matt might wear a three-piece suit with a brocade vest and a Stetson hat. Under his coat he always carried a gun. He’d given me a small pearl-handled derringer and I carried it in my bra or tucked it into a holster around my waist. We were a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde.

Matt loved films, and we went to the Memphian almost every night. He was still renting the whole house after regular hours since he couldn’t attend a movie without being mobbed. One of the guys always lined up several films in case Matt didn’t like one of them or decided to see as many as three or four in a row. We usually arrived around midnight, our limousine pulling around to the back of the Memphian. From there we’d proceed into the side door like a royal couple leading their court.

Already seated in the theater were the usual crowd of thirty to fifty local friends and fans. Matt always sat in the same seat—with Nate Doe to his right, me to his left.

Before calling “Roll ’em!” he looked around the theater to make sure everyone was seated. He was an acutely aware person and could immediately spot any unwanted or unfamiliar faces. If any new faces were sitting too close to him, Matt suggested they move elsewhere. He was more lenient with the girls. He might not demand they move but he certainly wanted to know who they were, and should they object to being asked for this information or smart off in any way, he would not hesitate to have one of the boys escort them out, telling them never to come back.

There were times Matt rented the entire Boston Fairgrounds after closing and we all  spent hours on our favorite rides. We tried such daredevil feats on the roller-coaster as seeing who could stand the longest with both arms outstretched as it whipped and twisted around the track again and again.

Matt loved the bumper cars and would team up with the entourage against some locals. They’d spend the night seemingly trying to kill each other, laughing and bruising themselves like tough little boys while we girls watched and cheered them on. After several hours my own enthusiasm waned.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - hope u enjoyed this chapter!!🎀

[ncrdyboyz]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰ ७.*´. ꒱ . . . VARSITY AT THE 2024 MET GALA !

VARSITY sent members DIAZ and KAZ to the 2024 Met Gala, and both definitely understood the assignment when it came to the theme!

Diaz showed up dressed in OCEAN ROYALE, a fairly new brand started by S3ABORN3's Min Jooha and Acid Flower's Reyna Jang, both who are Kpop idols under the same company as VARSITY. As well as fellow member Kaz, he was seen exiting the limousine, only to turn around and offer his hand to none other than Jooha himself, whom he had revealed to be dating since 2023. His outfit was designed by Reyna, his childhood friend and main rapper and producer of famous Kpop girl group Acid Flower.

Kaz, meanwhile, was dressed in the Spanish brand LOEWE, wearing a piece that was custom designed just for him. He noted in an interview that he chose the final design because it reminded him of his small home in Japan, as well as his boyfriend, Niraiin Erin of S3ABORN3, whose relationship had been revealed in 2020.

"It was really nice to pick and choose which outfit to wear because they were all so nice. Ultimately, I chose this one because it reminded me of home and all the good memories I had there with my boyfriend Erin. The pond near my house had lots of lotus flowers and he loves lotus flowers. . . so yeah. Love you, Erin!" he laughed, blowing a kiss at the camera before quickly moving on.

However, even with all the fun and glam, there were paparazzi who seemed to not like Diaz and Jooha's relationship; when they stepped out together in their matching outfits, some were heard muttering homophobic and racist comments towards them. Kaz, the better English speaker between the Starborn group, made sure to let Diaz know, who in turn led them right past the paparazzi and not giving them any more chances to take their pictures. The leader was visibly angry, with a grinding jaw and raised eyebrow as he walked right past the group of paparazzi. Many Smarties were outraged by the behavior and called them out for being homophobic and racist, demanding that an apology be made for the disrespect.

For the afterparty, both men decided on some sort of loosely fitting clothes: Diaz dressed in GIVENCHY in a v-neck top and cropped blazer and loose pants, and Kaz in a loose shirt and pants from GUCCI. Both were seen having a good time at the party and talking to various attendees.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰ ७.*´. ꒱ . . . VIRAL MOMENTS !

Diaz was asked if his outfit was to celebrate Cinco de Mayo due to its slight similarity to Mexican style embroidery, causing him to look confused before answering with, "We don't celebrate that shit unless we're from Puebla or the United States. Why would I do that?"

Kaz was seen looking uninterested for most of the event and afterparty, more focused on his phone texting his boyfriend than socializing — but he did end up talking to a few attendees, and was spotted chatting it up with Cléo and Felix of Stray Kids.

Diaz was seen acting as a gentleman so often with his boyfriend Jooha that even non fans of VARSITY were asking about the 'hot guy who revived chivalry.'

Diaz and Grayson of TWILIGHT were spotted together, politely greeting each other before being asked to pose together for a photo — which resulted in a funny moment where the two struggled on picking a good pose, eventually landing with them simply standing side by side, making a heart with their hands.

Kaz and Diaz were spotted later at the party talking with The Boyz's Thomas, both smiling happily as they posed several times for photos together. Diaz was seen exchanging numbers with him and teaching him Spanish, which made Kaz laugh.

Kaz was seen walking around with a lollipop in his mouth and several in his hand, offering one to each person he spoke with. When asked about the lollipops, he simply responded with, "Don't worry about it," before offering one to Emma Chamberlain and Anna Wintour themselves. It earned him the nickname 'Kazu-pop' by Smarties and 'Mr. Lollipop' by the locals.

ib: @anqelblccm + @f1rstime ily besties !!

JOOHA can be found in @s3aborn3

GRAYSON can be found in @f1rstime

CLÉO can be found in @hausofanya

THOMAS can be found in @hwangyozz