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[cahndru]

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[oceanluxyachts]

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[cutielando]

could you please write a smut about lando’s recent interview with oscar where he says he’d rather not say what he does on dates? 💗💗

interview | l.n.

warnings!!: smut, p in v sex, oral sex (female receiving), soft sex, praising, first time (between reader and Lando)

my masterlist

You found it funny when you heard the interview at first. You and Lando have been together for a good couple of months now, and hearing his answer made you think about your first dates at the beginning of your relationship.

Those magical first dates that sealed the deal.

Especially your 3rd date.

Which went down exactly as he had declared in the interview.

November, 2023

The moon was shinning brightly over Monaco, the illuminated streets lighting up the entire city.

The yacht you were on with Lando was swinging lightly over the calm waters, anchored far enough into the water that nobody was around you.

You were on your 3rd date with Lando, still in the phase where you got to know each other better, but you could tell there was insane chemistry between you two from your very first meeting.

Compared to your first two dates, when you guys stayed just in the city, this one tops the charters.

You had been on the yacht for a couple of hours now, eating dinner and laughing under the moonlight. Everything was perfect, the serene atmosphere of the open water and the feeling of being with Lando, it was surreal.

"I didn't peg you for a romantic person" you told him as you lay together in the bed of his little cabin, your head resting against his shoulder as his hand played with the ends of your hair.

"I can't be that bad" he joked, making you laugh and shake your head.

"You're doing amazing" you whispered, turning your head so you were looking at him, a smile gracing both of your features.

Lando smiled and brought his hand to your face, tucking your hair behind you ear before he caressed your cheek with his thumb.

"I have a few ideas how we can make this night even more memorable" he said, biting his lip as he slowly sat up and moved so he was hovering above you, his hand now resting against your hip and rubbing against your soft flesh.

You bit your lip, your blood boiling inside of you as you watched the way his eyes darkened, his eyes taking in every inch of your body. You felt small under his gaze, but you wouldn't trade the feeling of his eyes on you for anything.

"I want you to make love to me" you whispered with an urgency in your voice you didn't know could muster.

Lando smiled widely, and immediately leaned down to smash his lips on yours, sighing at how soft and perfect they were.

Your hands were now wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist, bringing him ever closer to your body.

"You're so beautiful" he whispered against the shell of your ear as he started leaving kisses down your neck, biting at the skin and sucking on the spot right under your ear, eliciting louder moans from you.

"Lando" you sighed out, your hands gripping at his hair.

He merely hummed as he made his way down your body, kissing every inch of exposed skin. Once he got to the hem of your dress, he helped you up and took the dress off, throwing it at the foot of the bed.

His eyes slowly took in your lingerie-clad body, his smile adorably stretching out at the sight. Had it been any other man, you would have been intimidated under such an intense gaze, but you felt safe and wanted by Lando.

“You’re so freaking beautiful” he exclaimed, his hands running over your bra-covered boobs, squeezing them and placing kisses on the plump flesh.

You threw your head back and arched your back, allowing Lando to quickly undo your bra and throw it somewhere on the floor.

The ache in your pussy was getting stronger and stronger, your hips grinding against his pants to cause some sort of friction and provide some relief. Seeing that, he smirked and reached his hand down, rubbing your clit through the soaked thin fabric of your panties.

"Please, Lando" you moaned, pressing your hips against his hand.

"Please what?" he asked, his head dipping down against your chest once more, leaving hickeys and sucking at the skin of your boobs with a passion.

"Fuck me" you let out, surprised at how blunt you were.

"Your wish is my command" he whispered, pulling away from you to quickly take his clothes off and pull your soaked panties down your legs, sniffing them before he threw them on the floor next to your scattered clothes.

He wasted no time going down between your legs, his heart beating even faster when he noticed how dripping wet you were.

"Someone is eager" he smirked, making the blood rush to your cheeks and your hands to fly to your face, hiding your blush. "Don't hide from me, it's hot"

You were about to retort with a comment when he suddenly dived into your cunt, his tongue prodding at your entrance and his nose bumping against your clit. You moaned out loudly and your hands flew to his hair, gripping at his strands.

He was eating you out with more passion than any other man ever could. His tongue was expertly moving in and out of your hole, collecting your juices every second and his nose bumping against your clit every now and then.

"It feels so good" you moaned out and slammed your head against the bed once you felt two fingers suddenly slide into you, your walls squeezing them tightly.

The pressure inside of you was building rapidly, your walls fluttering against his fingers and tongue, letting him know you were close.

"I'm gonna cum" you warned him, preparing for the intense wave of pleasure that would soon envelop your senses, but it never came.

When you looked up, you saw Lando standing up, his mouth and fingers nowhere near where you needed them to be.

"Why'd you stop?" you complained, breathing heavily because of how worked up you were, not having had the opportunity to cum.

"I need to feel you around my cock when you cum" he said, hurriedly taking off his clothes before kneeling in-between your legs.

He gave his cock a couple of quick strokes before he lined himself up with your entrance, hissing when his cock slowly entered your warm and wet cunt.

You bit your lip and arched your back, your cunt much more sensitive from your denied orgasm. He gave you a minute to adjust, pressing kisses along your breasts and neck.

“You feel so good inside of me” you whimpered, burying your hands in Lando’s hair.

Lando said nothing as he started slowly building up a rhythm, snapping his hips against yours while his cock nudged at your G-spot every single time.

That night, you were lost in a sea of pleasure, only the feeling of you two joined prevailing in the dark of the night.

You had never felt so many things at the same time before Lando, and being with him suddenly opened your eyes to so much more that life with him had to offer.

Present Day

You both laughed as you recounted the beginning of your relationship with each other, the first night you spent together imprinted in your mind like it was yesterday.

"We had fun, didn't we?" Lando smirked as he got on top of you in your hotel room, his mind determined on remaking that same night.

"You could say that" you said, biting your lip and wrapping your hands around his neck, your fingers tugging at the strands of his hair.

"Think we should recreate it" he whispered, pressing kisses down your neck and sucking on the sweet spot right below your ear.

"Yes" you moaned out, your brain surrendering itself to him and only him.

Because he was the only one who could make you feel as though it was just the two of you in this world.

All because of that interview.

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[technicalnewz]

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[httpsserene]

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊’𝖘 1𝖐 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 - 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖑𝖎𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖘

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫

summary: slightly less innocent, virgin!reader has had her view of pleasure shifted. her libido has increased to insane levels after she finally allowed her boyfriends to fix her…dry spell. charles and max have no issues with helping her ride out her newfound sexual appetite, and figure that she may be ready to take the next step. or, more accurately, take the next hand. content warning: 18+ only. explicit. no penetrative sex. corruption kink. handjobs. thigh riding. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. charles leclerc is a brat. orgasm denial. there's smidge of humor in here somewhere i think. slight humiliation kink. word count: 4.2k words pairing: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader soundtrack: gun • doja cat

preface: AHHHH OMG I HAD THIS IN MY QUEUE AND THE DATE WAS 9/12 INSTEAD OF 12/9 I WAS IN THE WOODS WITH SPOTTY CONNECTION ALL DAY AND I HAVE TBLR NOTIFICATIONS OFF ON MY PHONE I AM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT! ALL FUTURE EPISODES WILL BE POSTED AT 12 PM ON THEIR RELEASE DAYS!

prev 1k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

it’s laughable. you can’t believe that you almost bought a vibrator instead of telling your boyfriends that you were ready to start the sexual aspect of your relationship. actually, it kind of makes you mad—you could’ve been experiencing the most mind blowing levels of pleasure years ago, if you had just gotten over your own insecurity.

max and charles had been dating each other for a couple years before they found you. you were a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend, and they were enamored with you as soon as they were introduced. you cringe whenever they reminisce over the first time you met them—the men think it’s the cutest first meeting ever.

they met you on a yacht in monaco. an older member of the ferrari team was retiring and decided to have a relaxed celebratory brunch on a chartered yacht. charles, of course, would be attending; he’s sure he’s most likely contractually obligated to go, but he also enjoys going to these sorts of events, he flourishes and thrives in social settings. however, on this particular day, max and charles had already planned for a date. 

when charles had been forwarded the invitation from andrea (his trainer), who had texted him threats of bodily harm if he didn’t show up—he whined and groveled to max about having to reschedule their date. max had shushed charles’ dramatics, and simply pulled out his phone to show a text thread between him and brad (his trainer), who sent him the invitation to the yacht party. charles made a noise of surprise; this brunch is more relaxed than he thought. max shrugged and pressed a kiss to charles cheek–all they have to do is make an appearance, greet who needs to be greeted, congratulate who needs to be congratulated, and then they can sneak away and leave early for their date.

that was the plan. and everything seemed to be going according to the plan. they had boarded the vessel (nobody knew the rivals had come together), everyone assumed they had just arrived at the same time. they quickly congratulated the retiree, and charles separated from max to go and charm everybody on the boat, while max had gone to take advantage of the brunch spread.

the dutchman was halfway through his second plate of finger food when charles had returned to his side, bringing their trainers and a few engineers along with him. the monegasque was stealing bites of food off his plate, and max gently tapped on the face of his richard mille watch to remind charles that they needed to start wrapping up. 

except, joris had just boarded the yacht—and you were at his side.

charles choked on his bite of stolen food, and max distractedly patted his back to clear his airways. it was like time slowed down, their vision tunneled, and the noise of conversations around them quieted; at the sight of you. you were wearing this light, flowy, orange sundress that complimented your warm brown skin, accessorized with gold jewlery, a pair of heeled tan sandals, and your curly hair was free and blowing in the breeze. you kept your gaze lowered, like you were fearing making eye contact with anybody on board, and you turned to slightly hide behind joris as you frantically whispered to him.

charles and max had decided then and there; they need to know you.

you had parted from joris at the sound of someone calling for you and the sight of you walking away, broke the trance the two drivers had been under.

when charles’ friend made his way over, they were quick to interrogate him about you, and why exactly he’s never introduced you to them before. joris threatened them before he gave them permission to pursue you (not that they needed it), and refused to answer any of their questions about you. he told them to go talk to you, and warned them to be gentle with you—as you have a more shy and introverted personality. it took nearly thirty minutes for charles and max to find where you disappeared too. you were chatting to the retiree, and as soon as you wrapped up the conversation—max inserted himself in your path, and ‘accidentally’ bumped into you.

you stumbled briefly, finding yourself bumping into charles as well. you frantically apologized to the two drivers, eyes wide with embarrassment—and max and charles found themselves vehemently reassuring you that it was their fault, and that you don’t need to apologize.

once you calmed, max started to test the waters.

“it was completely my fault. i should’ve been paying more attention to where i was walking but, i got distracted—because you look too beautiful in this dress.”

your mouth parted in surprise and you giggled awkwardly, not expecting the compliment (charles had to muffle his snort, max is incredibly corny), “oh! thank you—it’s really the dress that’s beautiful.”

the monegasque stepped in, “ah, no that cannot be. the dress only compliments how pretty you are.”

you hummed, eyes flickering between the two of them nervously, and caved to their flattery.

“mmm, thank you…the orange works with my skin tone pretty well.”

“it does,” max agreed with a soft smile, “i must be your favorite driver—since, you’ve dressed in dutch orange.”

your eyes widened, as you giggled at his bold claim, laughing harder when charles’ pretends to be angry at max’s words. the couple watches as your smile shifted from something sweet, to something teasing as you fumbled over what to say in response.

“oh? well, if i did dress for my favorite driver, it would be lando norris. because, this color is more similar to papaya than your dutch orange.”

max scoffed, and charles bursted out laughing—the two of them not expecting the teasing from you, based on how joris led them to believe that you were the shyest thing to walk on earth. 

that interaction had completely cemented their urge to date you. they ended up staying at the yacht party, just talking to you the entire time, enjoying making you blush and fluster, flirting around the limits of how much affection you could take from them. they missed their dinner reservation, but found themselves taking you out to dinner somewhere near the waterfront. 

at the end of the night, you exchanged phone numbers with them and they sweetly told you that they’d reach out to you for a second date. you had made a noise of surprise, completely disbelieving that you were on a date, or that they’d want to see you again. but, charles and max were quick to make their intentions clear as they realized they may have been moving too quickly for you.

you can’t believe that was over two years ago. the boys had been so kind with working hard for your trust, and with a final conversation about how this relationship would work—you had agreed to be their girlfriend. of course, you had your stipulation of not being ready to have sex, but the boys did take that in stride and didn’t try to coerce you into changing that boundary. matter of fact, they had even offered to stop having sex between the two of them if it made you uncomfortable—which you disagreed with on the spot; they didn’t need to limit their actions with each other just because you needed extra time. 

and extra time, ended up being two years. charles and max had waited two years without complaining once, about the fact that you still weren’t ready to have sex with them. apparently, the final aspects that you needed to realize you were ready to have sex were: being unable to get yourself off for a month while they were in the midst of a triple header…and also that, you trust them with your entire soul. 

and goddamn, did their patience result in a valuable reward.

ever since max and charles had cured your dry spell by giving you the most life-changing orgasm from riding max’s thigh, you’ve been insatiable.

it’s like your horny-meter was struck by lightning and was overloaded and stuck at the highest setting—it feels like a perpetual ovulation week. it feels like you can’t look at max’s thighs without getting wet, it feels like you can’t hold charles’ hand without your knees buckling. it wasn’t like you were never horny before the thigh-riding incident (max finds the title hilarious), but to be consistently desperate—you’ve never felt like this before. it’s like the monegasque and the dutchman have awoken your sex drive and shifted it into high gear. your libido has been so insanely high that the men have pretty much offered themselves to you as free-use.

you wake up horny? choose your fighter: charles’ thigh or max’s thigh. you get turned on by charles kissing your cheek? ride his thigh. your tummy knots up when max calls you pretty girl? ride his thigh. your panties get wet when charles comes back from getting a haircut? ride his thigh. your clothes fall off when max smiles at you? ride his thigh. your brain turns to mush when charles and max make out? ride their thighs, twice.

you’ve been so pleasure-crazed that you ended up getting a friction burn from how often you were using their thighs. 

you whimpered in shame as charles rubbed aloe vera on the irritated skin between your legs.

“vior (see)?” charles said to max, who was sitting on the bed next to you holding your hand, “she has sensitive skin—we should not have let her use our thighs so often.”

“ah,” max dismissed, ignoring your mortified whine, he smirked at charles, “she’s just learned how good we can make her feel—forgive her desperation, schatje?”

charles lightly presses on the inflamed skin, and you slightly hiss in pain. he stares at max with an unimpressed expression, 

“and now feeling good too often has her feeling bad, non?”

charles resumed his gentle massage of aloe vera, as he continued to bicker with max about you, like you weren’t lying right there. mortification had the melanated skin of your cheeks flushing with a visible blush, and you muffled your embarrassed whimper into max’s thigh. the humiliation of your boyfriends discussing your barely-sex related injury as if you aren’t present should have been horny-level reduction material—but secretly, you enjoyed it; just a little bit. 

with a pained gasp, you slammed your thighs shut around charles’ hand when he passed over a more seriously-raw area of skin. his hand was forced up, and it brushed firmly against your cunt—and that previously pained gasp transformed into a moan of pleasure. the conversation around you silenced abruptly. you kept your eyes tightly shut, refusing to pull away from the safe haven of max’s thigh. you heard charles laugh disbelievingly, and with his free hand he easily pulled your thighs apart with little effort. the casual show of strength only had you getting wet. 

he made a show of flexing the hand that was entrapped between your thighs, before he dropped two of his fingers on top of your panties and guided them to circle over your clit through the thin cloth. your eyes flew open, and with a squeal your hips bucked up to chase his hand; but he was too quick, and pulled away, using that same hand to hold your hips down on the bed.

“you’re so horny that you completely forgot about the friction-burn you have on your thighs from your previously extremely horny activities,” max deadpanned, staring down at you with a blank expression.

“i can’t help it,” you murmured shyly, “sorry.”

“don’t apologize,” max stated, releasing his grasp of your hand to brush his thumb across your cheek, “nothing’s touching your cunt for a week.”

“huh? WHAT? why? no—why not?” you blurted out in confusion, ignoring charles’ snort.

“liefje—you could barely handle charles rubbing the gel into your skin; you are too sore and inflamed. no pillows, no hands, no thighs.”

you humphed, knowing max is right, but not wanting to admit it. 

“that’s torture! i just started getting to experience real pleasure and now i can’t even cum for a week?!” you whined up at max with pleading eyes.

“you went without using our thighs for two years—you can handle a week, mon coeur,” charles patted your hip with an annoying smile, before he climbed off the bed to put the gel away.

“charles, don’t tease her,” max sighed, “it’s just a week, pretty girl. you’ll be fine.”

you are not fine.

it’s the slowest time has ever passed in your entire life. honestly, the nerve of your boyfriends to have beautifully muscled thighs around you. you’ve been put in horny jail–seriously! the two men seem to have a radar for whenever you start to get turned on. no matter how hard you try to suppress any changes in your body language or facial expression, they sus you out in a few seconds. it’s uncanny; before you even open your mouth to try and persuade them into anything, they squish your cheeks together and say, “not yet,” and then walk away to give you space to calm down. every instance of this in the first couple of days was more mortifying than the aloe-vera gel application situation (which max now applies for you since charles couldn’t refrain from teasing you), but you quickly became desensitized.

max will not budge. he lets you whine, grovel, beg, promise, and plead. he sits through your whole monologue of desperation on day four, and smiles the entire time. when you finish your expertly delivered request to be allowed one orgasm from his thigh, he pats you on the ass and walks away. the amount of rage that filled you was probably unhealthy–how the fuck does he manage to be so unfazed?

charles, on the other hand, you could break. on day five, you trapped him in bed, sneakily convincing him to spend five more minutes with you while max brushed his teeth. you were quick to initiate sweet kisses, humming into the press of his lips, before you pull away and squirm on top of him to straddle his torso. 

the love-tinted haze cleared from his eyes as soon a he puzzled out your motive, and the monegasque moved to guide you off his body, but you halted him, pressing a firm hand in the middle of his bare chest. 

“c’mon cha–just let me, it’s been so long,” you pout down at him, doe-eyes wide and pleading, “don’t you wanna make me feel good?”

charles wavered–it has been so long. he doesn’t think he’d forget how your face looks as you orgasm, but it would be nice to see it again. you slowly grind your hips down on his, and charles manages to hold back any noises, but his eyes flutter in pleasure. the brunet halts your hips when he sees the brief flicker of discomfort appear in the furrow of your brows.

“ah, regarde toi (look at you)!” charles tuts disapprovingly, “you know you aren’t ready, just wait a little longer!”

you climb off of his lap, and bury your face in the pillow next to him, muffling a dramatic scream to make sure he knows how displeased you are. he rubs your back soothingly, letting you release your anger, before you flip over and huff.

“fine–whatever. two more days. two more days…for me,” you murmur, ignoring charles’ squint at your words, “just because i can’t do anything doesn’t mean you two can’t, right?”

charles shrugs his agreement, “yes, i guess. we haven’t came since you can’t. we were just planning to wait for your skin to recover.”

your heart warms at their abstinence, and the gears of your brain start turning. 

“hmm. you know you don’t have to wait for me? i kind of got myself into this situation and it’s not fair for–”

“no. max and i are both responsible too,” charles cut you off, “we should’ve taken more care to make sure you weren’t pushing yourself too far.”

“i don’t blame you guys–i was jumping the two of you everytime you so much as breathed in the same room as me. but, that’s not the point! i was going to say: shouldn’t i thank you guys properly?” 

“quoi? how?” he tilted his head to the side in question.

“i mean, isn’t it time i learn how to make you feel good too? i’ve kind of taken advantage of you, and never thought about making sure you guys feel good, like me.”

“how can you say that, mon amour? you make us feel good everytime we make you feel good,” charles sees that you don’t quite believe him, “you don’t notice how tight our pants get when you sit on our thighs? after you’ve finished, we sneak away to the bathroom to relieve ourselves! trust me, we feel very good with you.”

“hey! that’s my point–i want to make you guys…cum,” you whispered, “not have you sneak away to go do it yourself. can’t you teach me? isn’t now the best time for me to learn when i can’t be distracted by my own orgasm?”

“as long as you avoid rubbing yourself on anything, i’m actually okay with this,” max’s voice carried from the doorway, causing you and charles to jump in surprise. neither of you heard him open the en-suite door.

the dutchman walked over and sat on the bed next to charles, who eagerly supported your suggestion now that max said it was okay. 

“c-can…can we do it now?” you asked quietly, simultaneously afraid of a possible rejection and the idea itself.

the younger man hummed, and sat up next to max. he smirked at the blonde, “i’m sure he can’t say no to the opportunity of having me teach you how to touch him just the way he likes.”

you may have miscalculated, to some degree. does everything about max have to big? big mouth, big hands, big thighs, big…dick. your brain stops functioning at the sight—max sitting with his back against the headboard, legs spread open comfortably, uncaring of how exposed he is, his cock half-hard and still growing where it rests on his thigh, and don’t forget his self-satisfied smirk at the sight of your shock. you squirm from your seat in between his legs and charles steadies you from his position behind you, bracketing your body within the two of them.

the monegasque shifts forward, hooking his chin on your shoulder with his chest pressed along your back, and hums softly, “all of that ,” charles pauses and moves his right hand to apply pressure on your navel, “is going to be deep inside of you soon.”

“ ‘s not gonna fit in me.”

“we’ll make it fit,” max states. you whimpered at his confident tone, and you could feel charles muffle his chuckle in the crook of your neck. 

the click of the lube bottle opening caused you to flinch back into charles, who soothed you with a pat on the hip. the brunet carefully squeezed out a small amount of lube into your right palm and murmured instructions for you to warm up the liquid. he then guided your hand to grasp max’s dick, who sighed softly at your touch.

“touch him however you want, mon ange,” the monegasque directed, “get used to how he feels and then we can make him feel good.”

swallowing down your apprehension, you lightly trace a finger down his shaft, marveling at how he’s a few of your fingers in girth and decently longer than the size of your hand (that’s definitely not fitting inside of you, they have no idea what they’re talking about). you drag the tip of your pointer finger up along the vein on his underside to the head of his cock. the tip is flushed with an attractive shade of pink complimenting the pale skin of his body, and it’s a beautiful contrast to the brown skin on the back of your hand. you wrap your palm around him gently and brush your thumb over the head, making a noise of surprise at his cock twitching in your grasp. a drop of pre-cum beads in the slit and you curiously drag a finger to collect it; you pause, before you bring your finger to your mouth and flick out your tongue to taste it.

it almost tastes like nothing? slightly bitter, a little salty—but, it’s good. he tastes good. 

max groans and the sound of his head falling back and hitting the headboard reminds you that the cock you’re feeling up is attached to him. 

a broken rasp of, “fuck,” slips from his lips, and charles kisses your cheek in approval.

“ah-you’re so good at this already, mon amour,” charles cheered, “let’s give him a hand, together.”

he brings his left hand around your body to join yours around max’s, and leads you through the motions. he starts you on half strokes, having you circle your hand around the head, while he focuses on mimicking your motions around the base. you can see the muscles of max’s abdomen and thighs clenching with the effort of not thrusting forward into your hand.

“shit,” max moans, “the two of you will be the death of me.”

charles nips a mark right behind you ear, “move your hand like this—oui, just like that—and press your palm around the head—good girl—just keep doing that for me, mon amor.”

max groans roughly at the focused attention on the sensitive tip of his dick; he’s going to come embarrassingly quickly. the sight of charles teaching you how to give him a proper handjob is going to keep him up at night.

“liefje, you’re doing such a good job,” max pants, “going to make come already, pretty girl—are you going to lick my cum off your fingers too?”

you moan highly at his words, nodding your head quickly in agreement, eager to keep being good for him. max continues to run his mouth as he gets closer to orgasm: ‘you and charles should taste the cum off your hand together,’ ‘he can’t wait to get his hands and mouth on you,’ etc.

with a stuttered breath, max warns you that he’s cumming—and charles yanks your hand off of him; ruining max’s orgasm. the dutchman shouts in frustration, his hips bucking up freely now, trying to chase the delicious friction that was stolen from him.

with flushed cheeks, max yells, “what the fuck, charles!” and you turn to look at charles, who’s sitting behind you with an extra-pleased smirk on his face. the brat shrugs nonchalantly, not offering an explanation. you bring your hand back to grasp max’s cock—and repeat the same motion of twisting your palm around the head, to lead max back to an orgasm. he moans in relief, thankfully the edge of release didn’t slip away from him entirely—and then you bring your other hand up to make up for charles’. 

all it takes is a few more synced strokes, and max cums. you feel the warmth of his release coat your fingers, but your eyes are stuck on his expression. his mouth parted slightly, eyes shut, his chest heaving, mouth red and flushed from where he was biting at his bottom lip, and you can see the pleasure washing over his face—goddamn, you wish you were feeling what he is. in the haze of appreciating how he looks when he comes, you fail to stop your hands from continuing your motions and max’s hands fly down to halt you once the pleasure slips into too-much.

when he makes eye-contact with you, you raise your cum-covered hand to your mouth and make a show out of tasting his cum. you moan sweetly and smack your lips—honestly, you don’t particularly like or dislike the taste, but the way max’s eyes widen at your display makes you think you’ll learn to love it. he watches you lick your hands clean, and murmurs out a faint, “what the actual hell, liefje.”

“and, you,” the older man’s expression hardens as he directs his cold gaze on charles, “we’re not touching you for two weeks.”

“por quoi?!,” the monegasque pretends as if he doesn’t know exactly what he did.

you and max both ignore charles’ whining, and you smile extra sweetly at max as you wiggle onto his lap, “may i use your thigh, please?”

he digs his thumb into the sensitive skin of your thigh, and you yelp lightly. 

“two more days, liefje,” max orders, “and if you’re patient, you can have more than just my thigh.”

1k special taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool@barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @dreamingofautopia @jayswifee @megatrilss1885 @nanamilkbread @sophia12345678 @benstormy @userlandonorris@xxniallxxsworld @starfusionsworld@hangmandruigandmav @spicybagel14 @ggaslyp1 @idontgotopartiesanymore @woozarts @yourlilitha @smartstupyd

© httpsserene2023

[csuitebitches]

A Brief Guide to Yachts

This is a continuation to my cultural education segment (aka my rich bitch guide).

The yacht is an invention of the 14th century Dutch. The Dutch used small, fast boats for chasing smugglers, pirates and criminals. Rich ship owners and merchants began using these small “jaghts” to sail out to celebrate their returning merchant ships.

The first yacht club in the world, called the Cork Water Club, was established in Ireland in 1720.

Some famous clubs include:

USA:

1. Annapolis Yacht Club: Surrounding the Spa Creek Bridge in Annapolis, the Club boasts over 75 wet slips and dry dockage. The club began in 1886 as an informal canoe club, and today has 1600 regular members active in social, racing, and cruising programs

2. Chicago Yacht Club: Founded in 1875, Chicago Yacht Club is one of the oldest and most respected yacht clubs in the world. The Club is home to more than 1,400 members, including a winning America’s Cup skipper, and Olympic medalists.

Italy:

1. Circolo Canottieri Aniene

2. Circolo degli Esteri

3. Compagnia della Vela

Canada:

1. Royal Canadian Yacht Club

2. Royal Vancouver Yacht Club

Yachts are most active in the summer months (May- August in the northern hemisphere) or the winter months. many yacht owners decide to keep the maximum number of guests onboard to 12 (plus crew) for chartering.

Different types of yachts:

Sailing Yacht: a yacht mainly propelled via wind and sails

Motor Yacht: a yacht propelled via one or more motors

Gulet Yacht: a hybrid yacht with both sails and motors

Open Yacht, Cruiser, Cabin Cruiser, Express Cruiser: an otherwise uncategorized standard yacht for cruising and entertaining

Luxury Yacht: a yacht that includes high-end finishes and features and the latest in modern performance technology. The term ‘luxury’ can precede any type of yacht, i.e. “luxury motor yacht”, “luxury sailing yacht”, etc.

Sports Yacht: a yacht geared towards fishing, water sports, or cruising with a sleeker design and more powerful motor for faster cruising speeds.

Catamaran Yacht: a yacht with two hulls (pontoons) often made of fiberglass that can be used in shallow waters.

The most popular destinations:

1. Monaco

2. The French Riviera

3. Greece

4. U.S. Virgin Islands

5. Palm Beach, Florida

6. Costa Smeralda, Italy

7. St. George’s Parish, Bermuda 

8. Newport, Rhode Island 

9. Nantucket, Massachusetts

10. Greater Victoria, Vancouver Island

Insane super yachts

Football club owner Shahid Khan's 95 metre Lürssen Kismet was delivered in 2014. On match days, a four-metre silver statue of a jaguar, its paw resting on a football helmet, graces the bow. Elsewhere, its sizeable foredeck has enough space for Khan's beloved football team, the Jacksonville Jaguars, to stage a practice.

The 70 metre Feadship superyacht Joy features a deck that's wide enough to enjoy a tandem jog around. This yacht is all about exterior living, which includes making use of these ample decks with some great sporting facilities. A basketball and badminton court is set all the way forward on the owner's deck. This is complemented by her large gym and dedicated spa. All of this adds up to make Joy an ideal choice for those interested in a yacht with ample fitness, wellness and sporting amenities.

[jetaiimee]

new muse alert. jenny dalton, born in Miami but currently living in Monte Carlo, Monaco. She is 34 years old and works as a Yacht charter broker. // perhaps she's meeting someone she's heard a lot about, someone famous, someone rich, etc.

"You're not as bad as everyone say you are." Jenny offered them a soft smile, her long blonde hair draped over her shoulder. The Bar Américain outside seating was filled up with a nice mix of people, mostly locals but also a fair share of foreigners. "What brought you here to Monaco? Some come here to see what's the hype all about, others with a purpose."

[duchessofostergotlands]

Would you consider doing an episode on corruption in Monaco? I also think it's way more important than continuous stories about Albert & Charlene's marriage. And why are they on this shady oligarch's yacht?? It's not like they can't afford to charter their own yacht...

First few lines of this should help: https://www.tumblr.com/duchessofostergotlands/726561427452788736/wait-can-you-say-more-about-whats-going-on-with

I won’t answer the second question because my theory will definitely be in the podcast and I don't like to give things away haha :)

[oceanluxyachts]

Luxury Yacht Charter Monaco

Experience the Epitome of Elegance with a Luxury Yacht

Discover the allure of the Mediterranean with a luxury yacht charter in Monaco, exclusively with OceanLux.

Immerse yourself in opulence and adventure as you explore stunning coastlines. Reserve your escape now!

[luxuryyachtcharters]

Experience Mediterranean Luxury: Super Yacht Charters Await!

Imagine cruising the serene waters of the Mediterranean, surrounded by breathtaking vistas and rich cultural heritage. With a super yacht charter in the Mediterranean, you can turn this dream into reality. These Mediterranean luxury yacht charters offer access to some of the world's most exclusive locales, from the glamorous French Riviera to the enchanting Greek Islands.

A luxury yacht charter in the Mediterranean ensures an unforgettable experience. Bask in the sun on your private deck, dine at world-class seaside restaurants, and explore hidden gems along the coastline. Whether you're reveling in the luxury of Monaco or sailing along the stunning Amalfi Coast, every moment aboard is crafted to perfection.

Opting for a crewed yacht charter elevates your journey with bespoke services tailored to your desires. Enjoy gourmet cuisine, top-notch service, and unparalleled comfort, making your Mediterranean adventure truly extraordinary.

Ready to embark on a luxurious Mediterranean yacht adventure? Contact us now to plan your personalized itinerary and set sail on the voyage of a lifetime.

Conclusion:

Embarking on a superyacht charter in the Mediterranean with Yachting and Co is not just a vacation; it’s an immersion into the epitome of luxury and elegance. With the unparalleled beauty of the Mediterranean as your backdrop, every moment on board promises to be unforgettable.

[out-of-the-blue-yacht-charters]

ROYAL FALCON ONE - 135 Ft. (41m) Luxury Superyacht Catamaran

ROYAL FALCON ONE

135 Ft./41 m Luxury Super Catamaran, Studio F.A. Porsche

10 Guests in 5 Staterooms

Available in the South of France & Italy

Experience an unforgettable charter journey

accepting bookings for 2024 from April. Static charters available including the Cannes Yachting Festival, the Monaco Grand Prix and more! From €180,000 EUR + Expenses

https://www.outoftheblueyachtcharters.com/contacts/

Direct: 757-759-8960

info@outoftheblueyachtcharters.com