Licking Balls Quotes

He looked like a giant lion lying belly-up in the sun with his legs hanging open, licking his paws and airing out his balls.

That's the thing about being a Labrador retriever - you were born for fun. Seldom was your loopy, freewheeling mind cluttered by contemplation, and never at all by somber worry; every day was a romp. What else could there possibly be to life? Eating was a thrill. Pissing was a treat. Shitting was a joy. And licking your own balls? Bliss. And everywhere you went were gullible humans who patted and hugged and fussed over you.

Smiling, she went for his throat and almost had him, when—using a move that was all sorts of illegal—he flipped her again so her front pressed into the leaf-laden ground, her wrists still locked in his iron grip and pinned above her head. “Cheater.” “So says the woman who tried to kick my balls into my throat,” he pointed out, even as he licked the salt off the skin of her neck in a lazy and highly provocative move.

Scott’s crown reached Tad’s prostate but didn’t stop, instead grinding across it as it made its way by. “Unnngh-UH!” The last of Tad’s groan came out on a burst. Licking bliss tore up his channel and straight into his dick. Blood pumped furiously along the veins of his shaft, his sack fighting futilely to lift. But that fucking ball ring wouldn’t yield at all. Tad grimaced, pelvis writhing. Scott growled and gripped his hips tighter. “Fuck, Tad. The way your ass is letting me in… Accepting me… Swallowing me down… I’ve never seen anything so hot.

Jealousy makes you feel bad, but God is jealous, so it must be good. Yet when a dog licks its balls it seems to enjoy it, but it must be bad under the law.

What I'm feeling, I think, is joy. And it's been some time since I've felt that blinkered rush of happiness, This might be one of those rare events that lasts, one that'll be remembered and recalled as months and years wind and ravel. One of those sweet, significant moments that leaves a footprint in your mind. A photograph couldn't ever tell its story. It's like something you have to live to understand. One of those freak collisions of fizzing meteors and looming celestial bodies and floating debris and one single beautiful red ball that bursts into your life and through your body like an enormous firework. Where things shift into focus for a moment, and everything makes sense. And it becomes one of those things inside you, a pearl among sludge, one of those big exaggerated memories you can invoke at any moment to peel away a little layer of how you felt, like a lick of ice cream. The flavor of grace.

Charlie found himself affecting the Emperor's formal speech patterns, as if somehow he had been transported to a royal court where a nobleman was distinguished by the crumbs in his beard and the royal guard were not above licking their balls.

In the end Navidson is left with one page and one match. For a long time he waits in darkness and cold, postponing this final bit of illumination. At last though, he grips the match by the neck and after locating the friction strip sparks to life a final ball of light. First, he reads a few lines by match light and then as the heat bites his fingertips he applies the flame to the page. Here then is one end: a final act of reading, a final act of consumption. And as the fire rapidly devours the paper, Navidson's eyes frantically sweep down over the text, keeping just ahead of the necessary immolation, until as he reaches the last few words, flames lick around his hands, ash peels off into the surrounding emptiness, and then as the fire retreats, dimming, its light suddenly spent, the book is gone leaving nothing behind but invisible traces already dismantled in the dark.

I check out guys sometimes.” It came out fast because that was the first time I’d said it aloud. It felt like relief. And terror. Carter didn’t say anything for a minute. And then he said, “Oh. Okay. Did you lick his balls?” I laughed so hard that I thought I would die. Carter was laughing right along with me. He said, “You know I don’t give a shit, right? Like, of all the things in the world to freak out about, that’s one of the least?

So the Wolf had killed a time or two. Big deal. He was a wolf! What did they expect? That he’d lick his balls all day and howl at the moon?

Wes’s hot mouth is taking deep pulls on my dick. Pleasure darts from my shaft to my balls. I tangle my hands in his messy hair and thrust deeper into his mouth, floored by the eagerness, the passion, he’s giving to this blowjob. He licks and sucks and nibbles every inch of me, and I groan when he pops his finger into his mouth before dragging it down the crease of my ass.

He stood then,unzipping his jeans.As he shoved them and his boxers over his lean hips,she swallowed hard.She´d kissed and licked his cock more than once over the past couple days so she´d gotten used to the piercing.He´d told her that his piercing was called an apadravya and from what she´d looked up online it was supposedly the most painful type of piercing to get in that region.Well,painful to heal,but it was also more pleasurable for him and his partner in the long term.Vertical,it pierced right through the head of his penis from top to bottom.There was a little ball at the top and one at the bottom,connected by a straight barbell.

Vargo climbed in, twisted and turned a few times to get comfortable on the pillow, then pulled the lid down and latched it. As the eye of narrative drew back from the coffin on its stand, two things happened. One happened comparatively slowly, and this was Vargo's realization that he never recalled the coffin having a pillow before. The other was Greebo deciding that he was as mad as hell and wasn't going to take it any more. He'd been shaken around in the wheely thing and then sat on by Nanny, and he was angry about that because he knew, in a dim, animal way, that scratching Nanny might be the single most stupid thing he could do in the whole world, since no one else was prepared to feed him. This hadn't helped his temper. Then he'd encountered a dog, which had tried to lick him. He'd scratched and bitten it a few times, but this had had no effect apart from encouraging it to try to be more friendly. He'd finally found a comfy resting place and had curled up into a ball, and now someone was using him as a cushion- There wasn't a great deal of noise. The coffin rocked a few times, and then pivoted around.

But taking a bath to get clean is like licking my own balls, which is much less appealing.

Politicians Kissing Babies A politician kissing a baby is as gross as your dog licking his balls then licking your face.

He’s so fucking unconventionally perfect. I don’t know whether I want to kick him in the balls or lick his face.

I gaze at his cock with longing. It is so long and thick, with a bulbous head. And his meaty balls—so delish. I just wanted to bury my face in his cock and balls and sniff and lick him over and over.

All I had ever wanted was a dog who would sleep in my lap while I read and lick my neck and bring me the ball to throw eighty-seven times in a row. I thought a dog would be the key to perfect happiness. And I was right. We are perfectly happy. (

The balls were dry as wood, you had to lick and suck at them before they tasted like sour cherries. If you chewed them well, the pit felt very smooth and hot on the tongue. Those night cherries were a happy thing, but they only sharpened our hunger.

Jesus Christ. This man is wrecking me. I’m wrecked. I’m— “Going to come,” I ground out. The climax seizes my balls and shoots up my shaft, hot jets spurting out of my cock just as Jamie’s mouth releases me. He strokes me through the release, his breathing heavy and eyes gleaming as he watches my come land on my abs, my chest. I can’t breathe. I’m a gasping, shuddering mess, and he just keeps watching. And then the fucker does it again—he smiles. He fucking smiles as he lowers his head and licks one pearly drop off my stomach.

I want you to go out and buy yourself a lighter or a good box of matches. If they are matches, it is nice for them to be strike-anywhere matches. Those are the best kind. The lighter does not have to be a very nice one. In fact, it should be fairly nondescript, if possible. You will keep it in your pocket as a sort of token. Stick your hand in there now and then as you go around and remember: all the buildings that exist, all the grand structures of wealth and power, they remain standing because you permit them to remain. With this little lick of flame in your pocket, with this little gift of Prometheus, you can reduce everyone to a sort of grim equality. All those who ride on the high horse may be made to walk. Therefore, when you are at the bank and the bank manager speaks roughly to you, when you are denied entrance to a restaurant or other place of business, when you are made to work longer than you should need to, when you are driven out of your own little dwelling and made to live in the street, reach into your pocket, caress your own little vehicle of flame, and feel the comfort there. We shall set fires—and when we set them, we shall know why.

I went to bookshops to smell that lovely aroma of a new book. I would pick up a copy and run the pages across the ball of my thumb and let the fresh-baked smell flow up my nose. Then I would lick my thumb. It didn’t taste of anything, but it was like finding a chocolate wrapper inside a book and remembering the taste of the chocolate.

But then: a pink nose tiny black paws and blinking sleepy eyes a small black fur ball not a BIG fat fur ball a kitten stumbling out of a basket and wobbling over to me and crawling up on my lap and licking my pajamas and I forgot that I hate cats as it crawled up onto my chest and purrrrrred and I was smiiiiiling all over the place.

She grabs my cock with all the pride and passion of an Oscar, rolls off the condom, and then runs her tongue from my balls to the tip – just like I taught her. She rolls her red-hot tongue up and down it a few more times, with all the rough hunger of a starving woman who’s been given the spoon to lick, then plays with the head. She rolls her lips over it, keeping me teetering on the edge like a rollercoaster before the drop.

Lila smiles, reaches into the cloth covering whatever goodies are in the basket, and pulls out a concha. The top of the pastry is a swirl of colors- deep purple, inky blue, pink, green, gold. It reminds me of the galaxy, and I stare for a moment, mesmerized, before I take it from her. My mouth begins to water. "This smells incredible," I say. "What do I owe you?" "It's on the house," she says, already turning away. "Enjoy." I want to argue, but the urge to bite into the pastry is nearly irresistible now. I've never had Mexican pastries before. But first... I pick up my phone from the bench and take a picture of the gorgeous creation. Then, putting it back down, I take a big bite and close my eyes. My mouth explodes with flavors and sensations- sweet, yeasty, warm. In another three bites, I've eaten the entire four-inch ball of dough and am licking my fingers.

At my Grand Gala Ball of Coming Out, everyone will be required to wear a white dress, or else tuxedo tails and nothing else. A kiddie pool of sweet tea will be the dance floor as we wrestle with our complex identities because we all, every one of us, are complex, slippery, and tasty. We'll dance to bad eighties music as we lick and suck the excesses of multiple oppressions off one another. We'll all come out for what we are, and see ourselves in one another's body glitter.

Keith couldn’t think of anything more perfect than having these two men at his cock. He ran his hands through their hair as they alternated licking his balls, stroking his shaft, fingering along his perineum until he groaned, threw his head back and fought the inevitable. Every once in a while, their mouths would meet and they would kiss, cheeks pressed to his cock and goddamn, he wished his cock could be in several places at once, filling both men in every possible way. And

Orange fluff ball, Rocky is an 18-pound marvel of love, so fluffy, he looks like he’s 26 pounds. He scares the local dogs just by sitting and staring at them. Rocky’s there for me when I get home, purrs when he wants to, leads me to the food bowl when he needs to, licks me in an attempt to heal my wounds, loves cellophane, red ribbons, left over chicken. Rocky, my best friend, is my orange fluff ball, and I wish I could share him with the world. -- Scott C. Holstad, Northern Stars Magazine (2004)

A brick could be used to show you how to live a richer, fuller, more satisfying life. Don’t you want to have fulfillment and meaning saturating your existence? I can show you how you can achieve this and so much more with just a simple brick. For just $99.99—not even an even hundred bucks, I’ll send you my exclusive life philosophy that’s built around a brick. Man’s used bricks to build houses for centuries. Now let one man, me, show you how a brick can be used to build your life up bigger and stronger than you ever imagined. But act now, because supplies are limited. This amazing offer won’t last forever. You don’t want to wake up in ten years to find yourself divorced, homeless, and missing your testicles because you waited even two hours too long to obtain this information. Become a hero today—save your life. Procrastination is only for the painful things in life. We prolong the boring, but why put off for tomorrow the exciting life you could be living today? If you’re not satisfied with the information I’m providing, I’m willing to offer you a no money back guarantee. That’s right, you read that wrong. If you are not 100% dissatisfied with my product, I’ll give you your money back. For $99.99 I’m offering 99.99%, but you’ve got to be willing to penny up that percentage to 100. Why delay? The life you really want is mine, and I’m willing to give it to you—for a price. That price is a one-time fee of $99.99, which of course everyone can afford—even if they can’t afford it. Homeless people can’t afford it, but they’re the people who need my product the most. Buy my product, or face the fact that in all probability you are going to end up homeless and sexless and unloved and filthy and stinky and probably even disabled, if not physically than certainly mentally. I don’t care if your testicles taste like peanut butter—if you don’t buy my product, even a dog won’t lick your balls you miserable cur. I curse you! God damn it, what are you, slow? Pay me my money so I can show you the path to true wealth. Don’t you want to be rich? Everything takes money—your marriage, your mortgage, and even prostitutes. I can show you the path to prostitution—and it starts by ignoring my pleas to help you. I’m not the bad guy here. I just want to help. You have some serious trust issues, my friend. I have the chance to earn your trust, and all it’s going to cost you is a measly $99.99. Would it help you to trust me if I told you that I trust you? Well, I do. Sure, I trust you. I trust you to make the smart decision for your life and order my product today. Don’t sleep on this decision, because you’ll only wake up in eight hours to find yourself living in a miserable future. And the future indeed looks bleak, my friend. War, famine, children forced to pimp out their parents just to feed the dog. Is this the kind of tomorrow you’d like to live in today? I can show you how to provide enough dog food to feed your grandpa for decades. In the future I’m offering you, your wife isn’t a whore that you sell for a knife swipe of peanut butter because you’re so hungry you actually considered eating your children. Become a hero—and save your kids’ lives. Your wife doesn’t want to spread her legs for strangers. Or maybe she does, and that was a bad example. Still, the principle stands. But you won’t be standing—in the future. Remember, you’ll be confined to a wheelchair. Mushrooms are for pizzas, not clouds, but without me, your life will atom bomb into oblivion. Nobody’s dropping a bomb while I’m around. The only thing I’m dropping is the price. Boom! I just lowered the price for you, just to show you that you are a valued customer. As a VIP, your new price on my product is just $99.96. That’s a savings of over two pennies (three, to be precise). And I’ll even throw in a jar of peanut butter for free. That’s a value of over $.99. But wait, there’s more! If you call within the next ten minutes, I’ll even throw in a blanket free of charge. . .

kiss goes from sweet to molten in a matter of seconds. His tongue fills my mouth in deep, hungry strokes that make me gasp. I’m eager for more, desperate for it, but he’s gone again before I can blink, crawling back between my legs. This time when his finger slips past that puckered ring of muscle, I welcome the burn. I crave it. Wes licks a hot line from the tip of my cock to my aching balls, teasing the delicate sac while his finger toys with me. When I try to push my ass against it, he retreats, a dark chuckle fanning over my shaft. Jesus. I can’t take it anymore. I need to come before I self-combust. “Stop being a cocktease,” I growl. “Give me what I want.” His tongue ring teases my slit. “Yeah, and what do you want, baby?” “For you to suck me dry.

I own thy speechless, placeless power; said I not so? Nor was it wrung from me; nor do I now drop these links. Thou canst blind; but I can then grope. Thou canst consume; but I can then be ashes. Take the homage of these poor eyes, and shutter-hands. I would not take it. The lightning flashes through my skull; mine eye-balls ache and ache; my whole beaten brain seems as beheaded, and rolling on some stunning ground. Oh, oh! Yet blindfold, yet will I talk to thee. Light though thou be, thou leapest out of darkness; but I am darkness leaping out of light, leaping out of thee! The javelins cease; open eyes; see, or not? There burn the flames! Oh, thou magnanimous! now I do glory in my genealogy. But thou art but my fiery father; my sweet mother, I know not. Oh, cruel! what hast thou done with her? There lies my puzzle; but thine is greater. Thou knowest not how came ye, hence callest thyself unbegotten; certainly knowest not thy beginning, hence callest thyself unbegun. I know that of me, which thou knowest not of thyself, oh, thou omnipotent. There is some unsuffusing thing beyond thee, thou clear spirit, to whom all thy eternity is but time, all thy creativeness mechanical. Through thee, thy flaming self, my scorched eyes do dimly see it. Oh, thou foundling fire, thou hermit immemorial, thou too hast thy incommunicable riddle, thy unparticipated grief. Here again with haughty agony, I read my sire. Leap! leap up, and lick the sky! I leap with thee; I burn with thee; would fain be welded with thee; defyingly I worship thee!

What’s that?” Mr. Bynum said. He leaned over me, fists doubled up. “Vagina, fallopian tube, penis, scrotum,” I said. It took them both aback. I meant for it to. “That ain’t what you said,” Mr. Bynum said. But I had him slightly off guard. “No sir,” I said. “What I said to Mrs. Bynum was cunt and prick and fuck and shit.” I pronounced each word very distinctly. The Bynums were silent. The encounter had taken a bewildering turn. I gave them no time to regroup. “I’m telling you all my favorite words,” I said. “Anus, penis, semen, nipple, clitoris, pubic hair. I can say them louder,” I said. “I can say them faster. Fuck screw ball. Fuck – screw – ball. Fuck screw ball fuck screw ball.” I got to my knees. I spoke louder. “Lick suck lick suck lick suck,” I said. The Bynums were staring. My hair was wild, I was wet and muddy, I was rising from the grass chanting terrible words. I rose, I chanted. “Titillate, masturbate, cunnilingus,” I said. “Cunt prick fuck shit.” I got a little louder as I walked toward Mrs. Bynum. “Cunt vagina cunt vagina cunt vagina cunt,” I said. I turned toward Mr. Bynum. “Nipple nipple nipple nipple,” I said. I was chanting. I was getting louder. They looked scared. I had them backing up. “You maniac!” Mrs. Bynum said. Her voice wasn’t steady anymore. “I want to go in, Lloyd.” They turned and left, but I didn’t stop. I followed them up the sidewalk, weaving from side to side and chanting “Cunt vagina cunt vagina cunt vagina cunt” as if it were a football cheer. Mr. Bynum took Mrs. Bynum’s arm and hurried her on. They stopped at the hospital door and looked back at me with expressions of complete confusion on their faces. We looked at one another. I stopped the obscenities. “Sexual intercourse,” I said quietly. They knew my weapons. They merely stared. Finally they went inside.

so I said something I'd been thing for a long while, "This guy came into work. I thought he was attractive. I check out guys sometimes.” It came out fast because that was the first time I’d said it aloud. It felt like relief. And terror. Carter didn’t say anything for a minute. And then he said, “Oh. Okay. Did you lick his balls?” I laughed so hard that I thought I would die. Carter was laughing right along with me. He said, “You know I don’t give a shit, right? Like, of all the things in the world to freak out about, that’s one of the least?” I said, "Yeah, Carter, I know." My heart was pounding. "Hey. Calm down, Ox." Stupid werewolves. "I will." "Am i the first you've told?" "Yeah." He grinned. "I popped your gay cherry!" He frowned. "Wait." "Oh my god." "That's not what I meant." "Oh my god." "I popped your coming-out cherry." He grimaced as he stopped for a red light. "That didn't sound any better." "Oh my god.

The Bears would play in Wrigley Field from 1921 to 1970. In their first home game, they beat the Rochester Jeffersons. Wrigley Field was particularly ill suited for football. The end zones, which are normally ten yards deep, were foreshortened by a dugout on one side, an outfield wall on the other. A wide receiver might make a catch, then fall into the dugout. On one occasion, Bronko Nagurski, the great power runner of the 1930s, took the ball, put his head down, bulled through every defender—and straight into a brick wall. He got up slowly. When he made it to the bench, Halas was concerned: “You okay, Bronk?” Nagurski said he was fine, but added, “That last guy gave me a pretty good lick, coach.” In the early years, most NFL teams played in baseball stadiums, and many took the name of the host team. Hence the Pittsburgh Pirates, who played in Forbes Field, and the New York Football Giants, who played in the Polo Grounds. Halas considered naming his team the Cubs, but in the end, believing that football players were much tougher than baseball players, he called them the Bears.

Her hands glided down his body and landed on his cock. Yes. Ramón cupped her face and kissed her again. Julieta pulled away and dropped to her knees in front of him. "Yeah, baby." Her hands squeezed his ass, and she pulled down his pants and his boxer briefs. Ramón had been fantasizing about this since he'd met her. He was already so hard. He couldn't wait to feel her mouth around him. She kissed around the base of his cock and licked the tip. "Stop teasing me." She licked down his length and spat on her hand before she grasped him. Ah, that felt so good. A few more kisses on the head, and he was dying with anticipation. She finally took him in her mouth. He exhaled, enjoying the moment of pleasure. Having her eyes locked on his was almost enough to send him over the edge. Her mouth was so hot. The pressure built in his balls. "That's it, baby. Don't stop. Just like that." Her head bobbed up and down, taking him deep. She created a seal with her lips. Ramón took control. He held her right where he wanted as he fucked her mouth. He thrust deeper. He was right on the edge. "I'm going to come, baby." He tried to pull away, but she wouldn't let him. She sucked him so hard, so deep. He finally let go, and she swallowed.

Ready yourselves!' Mullone heard himself say, which was strange, he thought, for he knew his men were prepared. A great cry came from beyond the walls that were punctuated by musket blasts and Mullone readied himself for the guns to leap into action. Mullone felt a tremor. The ground shook and then the first rebels poured through the gates like an oncoming tide. Mullone saw the leading man; both hands gripping a green banner, face contorted with zeal. The flag had a white cross in the centre of the green field and the initials JF below it. John Fitzstephen. Then, there were more men behind him, tens, then scores. And then time seemed to slow. The guns erupted barely twenty feet from them. Later on, Mullone would remember the great streaks of flame leap from the muzzles to lick the air and all of the charging rebels were shredded and torn apart in one terrible instant. Balls ricocheted on stone and great chunks were gouged out by the bullets. Blood sprayed on the walls as far back as the arched gateway, limbs were shorn off, and Mullone watched in horror as a bloodied head tumbled down the sloped street towards the barricade. 'Jesus sweet suffering Christ!' Cahill gawped at the carnage as the echo of the big guns resonated like a giant's beating heart. Trooper O'Shea bent to one side and vomited at the sight of the twitching, bleeding and unrecognisable lumps that had once been men. A man staggered with both arms missing. Another crawled back to the gate with a shattered leg spurting blood. The stench of burnt flesh and the iron tang of blood hung ripe and nauseating in the oppressive air. One of the low wooden cabins by the wall was on fire. A blast of musketry outside the walls rattled against the stonework and a redcoat toppled backwards onto the cabin's roof as the flames fanned over the wood. 'Here they come again! Ready your firelocks! Do not waste a shot!' Johnson shouted in a steady voice as the gateway became thick with more rebels. He took a deep breath. 'God forgive us,' Corporal Brennan said. 'Liberty or death!' A rebel, armed with a blood-stained pitchfork, shouted over-and-over.

Wrath…” “What,” he murmured against her, working her with his nose. “You don’t like?” “Shut up and get back to doing—” His tongue slipping under the panties cut her off…and made him have to slow himself down. She was so slick and wet and soft and willing, it was all he could do to keep himself from hauling her on the rug and going at her deep and hard. And then they’d both miss out on the fun of anticipation. Moving the cotton aside with his hand, he kissed her pink flesh, then delved in. She was oh, so ready for him, and he knew it because of the honey that he swallowed as he dragged upward in a long, slow lick. But it wasn’t enough, and holding the panties to the side was distracting. With his fang, he punctured them, then split them apart right up the middle, leaving the two halves to hang off her hips. His palms went up to her ass and squeezed hard as he quit fooling around and got busy working out his female with his mouth. He knew exactly what she liked best, the sucking and the licking and the going in with his tongue. Closing his eyes, he took it all in, the scent and the taste and the feel of her shuddering against him as she peaked and came apart. Behind the fly of his leathers, his cock was screaming for attention, the rasp of the buttons not nearly sufficient to satisfy what it was demanding, but tough shit. His erection was going to have to chill for a while, because this was too sweet to stop anytime soon. When Beth’s knees wobbled, he took her down to the floor and stretched one of her legs up, keeping to his pace while shoving her fleece to her neck and putting his hand under her bra. As she orgasmed again, she grabbed onto one of the desk legs, pulling hard and bracing her free foot into the rug. His pursuit pushed them both farther and farther beneath where he discharged his kingly duties until he had to crouch down to fit his shoulders. Eventually her head was out the other side and she was gripping the pansy-ass chair he sat in and dragging it with her. As she cried out his name once more, he prowled up her body and glared at the stupid, nancy chair. “I need something heavier to sit in.” Last coherent thing he said. His body found the entrance to hers with an ease that spoke of all the practice they’d had and…Oh, yeah, still as good as the first time. Wrapping his arms around her, he rode her hard, and she was right there with him as the storm rolling through his body gathered in his balls until they stung. Together, he and his shellan moved as one, giving, receiving, going faster and faster until he came and kept going and came again and kept going until something hit his face. In full animal mode, he growled and swiped at it with his fangs. It was the drapes. He’d managed to fuck them out from under the desk, past the chair, and over to the wall. Beth burst out laughing and so did he, and then they were cradling each other.

Jesse let go of his hands to wrap one around the base of Christopher’s cock and the other to smooth over his balls. “See this?” he asked, his voice gruff. “This jizz you leak when I touch you? I’m gonna lick it clean.” Christopher moaned and thrust his hips encouragingly. “Put it in your mouth, asshole.” “Now, now, that’s not very sweet.” Christopher made his eyes as wide and sweet as possible. “Please put it in your mouth? I really want you to, babe.” “Ah, fuck, say that again and mean it.” “Babe?” “Yeah.” Jesse jacked him slowly. “Say it like I’m your babe.” “Aren’t you my babe?” Christopher whispered, his fingers threading into Jesse’s hair. “I wanna be.” “Suck me, babe. Show me how you’re mine.” Jesse closed his eyes and opened his mouth, taking the head of Christopher’s cock between his soft, wet lips, and it was good. So damn good, and Christopher moaned and pushed up his hips, sliding deeper, until Jesse took control

What did Ralph do?” “What dogs always do, started licking his balls.

He punched me—right in the midst of the Valmores’ ball.” “He never!” “He did. Of course, I got my licks in too. Man has to stand up for himself, you know.” “Oh, Lewie. Is that where that bruise came from? I was afraid you’d been breaking hearts again.” “Only two or three a week.” “Lewie . . .” Helen scolded fondly, “one of these days someone’s father, or brother, or sweetheart will do worse than bruise you.” “Then perhaps I ought to swear off women. After all, you are my favorite, Helen, and always shall be.

Tatiana really wanted an ice cream. Biting her lip, she let the bus pass. It’s all right, she thought. The next one will come soon, and in the meantime I’ll sit at the bus stop and have an ice cream. Walking up to the kiosk man, she said eagerly, “Ice cream, yes?” “It says ice cream, doesn’t it? I’m sitting here, aren’t I? What do you want?” He lifted his eyes from the newspaper to her, and his hard expression softened. “What can I get you, dearie?” “Have you got…” She trembled a little. “Have you got crème brûlée?” “Yes.” He opened the freezer door. “A cone or a cup?” “A cone, please,” Tatiana replied, jumping up and down once. She paid him gladly; she would have paid him double. In anticipation of the pleasure she was about to receive, Tatiana ran across the road in her heels, hurrying to the bench under the trees so she could eat her ice cream in peace, while she waited for the bus to take her to buy caviar because war had started. There was no one else waiting for the bus, and she was glad for the fine moment to feast on her delight in seclusion. She took off the white paper wrapping, threw it in the trash can next to the bench, smelled the ice cream, and took a lick of the sweet, creamy, cold caramel. Closing her eyes in happiness, Tatiana smiled and rolled the ice cream in her mouth, waiting for it to melt on her tongue. Too good, Tatiana thought. Just too good. The wind blew her hair, and she held it back with one hand as she licked the ice cream in circles around the smooth ball. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, swung her head back, lolled the ice cream in her throat, and hummed the song everyone was singing these days: “Someday we’ll meet in Lvov, my love and I.” It was a perfect day. For five minutes there was no war, and it was just a glorious Sunday in a Leningrad June. When Tatiana looked up from her ice cream, she saw a soldier staring at her from across the street. It was unremarkable in a garrison city like Leningrad to see a soldier. Leningrad was full of soldiers. Seeing soldiers on the street was like seeing old ladies with shopping bags, or lines, or beer bars. Tatiana normally would have glanced past him down the street and moved on, except that this soldier was standing across the street and staring at her with an expression Tatiana had never seen before. She stopped eating her ice cream. Her side of the street was already in the shade, but the side where he stood swam in the northern afternoon light. Tatiana stared back at him for just a moment, and in the moment of looking into his face, something moved inside her; moved she would have liked to say imperceptibly, but that wasn’t quite the case. It was as if her heart started pumping blood through all four chambers at once, pouring it into her lungs and flooding it through her body. She blinked and felt her breath become shorter. The soldier was melting into the pavement under the pale yellow sun.

Paint on the skin don’t matter. You lift a hand to him, I will kill you and skin you and pack you with buffalo shit, and kick you till you are alive and can stand. Then I will kill you again, and if I’ve got the need, I will fuck your corpse. Is that understood, you bunch of ignorant, buffalo hunting, dog-fucking, shit-sucking, dick-kissing, ass licking excuses for grown men that ain’t even dropped your balls or got hair above your peckers?

Dog, the Lord of Man's Loyalty, stirs, half-heartedly licks his balls, and then settles back down to sleep.

Nick bumps my shoulder with his, playfully. He kicks up some extra snow on purpose, whishing it onto my knees. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” I tell him. “Really?” “Especially with that doggy breath.” He scoops up some snow, makes it into a ball, bounces his hand up and down. “Take that back.” I giggle. “Nope.” I bend down to grab some snow and topple headfirst. The cold of it bites into my cheeks. I try to push myself up, but I can’t. I’m all awkward and clumsy with the snowshoes on. Nick laughs. I struggle some more. He grabs me under my arms and hauls me up. Smiling, he sticks out his tongue, and with tiny little movements starts licking the snow off my cheeks. It should be disgusting. It’s not. It’s all warm, and good feeling, and amazing. I close my eyes and let him. “You smell good,” he whispers. “I haven’t showered.” “Doesn’t matter, you smell good.” His voice, sensual and warm, mellows me. Our lips touch and part, touch again. I breathe him in. He moves his face away a little and studies me. I smile. I can’t help it. “I like you,” I say. “A lot. Even with the whole werewolf thing.” He smiles back. “I like you too.” “A lot?” “Mm-hmm,” he says, leaning in for another kiss. “A wicked lot.

Darcy picked her up again, this time not as gently as he had when she’d tripped on the root. He carried her under one arm like a sack of grain, though to his credit, he avoided putting pressure on her lower abdomen. “I said no, ye contrary thing, and I’m big enough to make you obey whether ye want to or no’.” He crashed through the line of trees, stomped past the wounded men, and set her firmly in the wagon. “A skirmish is no place for a woman. I willna be responsible for you getting raped or killed.” That vulnerable look softened his hard features for a second. “I could tie you down, but then ye’d be no help to Archie. So what’ll it be, lass? Will you obey me or no?” He tried to intimidate her with his posture and size, bracketing her with his bare arms. It didn’t work. Rather, the sight of the succulent, hard mound of his exposed shoulder so close to her face made her wet her lips. His strong collarbones and sinewy neck glistened with sweat, and he smelled of pine and male exertion. Her libido jumped like a feisty poodle. Jeez Louise, Mel, get a grip. This is not a romance novel. He’s not your hero. The box got it wrong. The box was way out of line. “I need it,” she said, pleased her steady voice didn’t betray her attraction. “I have to go with you.” “I told you I’d look for whatever ye lust.” Lust. The antiquated word spoken in his deep voice did strange things to her tummy. It took a solid effort not to lick her lips in invitation as the word called to mind activities that most definitely related to wanting. Home, she reminded herself. She had to get home. “I don’t trust you to look as hard as I would. I’m coming with you.” “Where are your ropes, Archie?” he asked. “The woman refuses to stay put. I have no choice but to tie her to the wagon.” Several of the wounded men snickered. Archie said, “In the foot case there. And bring me some of yon dried moss before ye tie down your woman.” Your woman. The casual declaration made her stomach leap, and the sensation wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “She’s not mine,” Darcy growled as he opened the lid of a wooden chest in the wagon. To her horror, he removed a coil of rope. After tossing a yellowish clump in Archie’s direction, he came at her. Her libido disappeared with a poof. She hopped off the wagon, dodging hands that had no business being so quick, considering how large they were. “Don’t you dare tie me down! I’ve got to get that box. It’s my only hope to return home.” He lunged for her, catching her easily around the waist with his long arm, and plunking her back in the wagon. Libido was back. Her body thrilled at Darcy’s manhandling, though her muscles struggled against it. The thought of him tying her up in private might have some merit, but not in the middle of the forest with several strange men as witnesses. “Okay, okay,” she blurted as he looped the rope around one wrist. “I won’t follow you. Please don’t tie me. I’ll stay. I’ll help.” He paused to eye her suspiciously. “I promise,” she said. “I’ll stay here and make myself useful. As long as you promise to look for a rosewood box inlaid with white gold and about yea big.” She gestured with her hands, rope trailing from one wrist. “As long as you swear to look as though your life depends on it.” She held his gaze, hoping he was getting how important this was to her, hoping she could trust him. The circle of wounded men went quiet, waiting for his answer. He bounced on the balls of his feet, clearly impatient to return to the skirmish, but he gave her his full attention and said, “I vow that if your cherished box is on that field, I will find it.

However, I am still a rabbit. That being said, and considering we are now mated, you should know that rabbits are clichés. As the saying goes, we fuck like bunnies. Carrots are an aphrodisiac, and if you piss me off, I will leave pellets in your shoes.” Beauregard shrieked when he was suddenly grabbed and swung around. Sebastian pressed him into the mattress and moved to kneel between his thighs. He hovered over the top of Beauregard, his arms resting on each side of Beauregard’s head. “I am a dragon, little bunny, and I am not a cliché in any form of the word. I’m big and bad and mean. I can break you in two without breaking a sweat. Piss me off and I’ll singe every bit of fur from your body.” “I can lick my own balls.” Sebastian’s mouth dropped open. “You can what?” “I’m a rabbit.” Beauregard smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. “We’re very flexible.” One of Sebastian’s eyebrows shot up. “Just how flexible are we talking here?

Ewan started with Dev’s balls, licking and nuzzling them, feeling the texture of Dev’s skin and hair against his lips and tongue. Of course he got a pube stuck somewhere in his mouth. He tried to ignore it at first, but he worried it was going to end up in his throat. “Sorry, hang on a sec.” Ewan pulled away and reached into his mouth with a finger to catch the hair lodged somewhere on the roof of his mouth. “There. Got it!” “Is

We were told that every morning the first thing that her dog did when he got up was to stretch, adding that we can all learn a lot from our animals’ behaviour. She’s probably right but, personally, I draw the line at trying to lick my own balls.

Until this night, this awful night, he’d had a little joke about himself. He didn’t know who he was, or where he’d come from, but he knew what he liked. And what he liked was all around him-the flower stands on the corners, the big steel and glass buildings filled with milky evening light, the trees, of course, the grass beneath his feet. And the telephones-it didn’t matter. He liked to figure them out, master them, then crush them into tiny hard multicolored balls which he could then juggle or toss through plate glass windows when nobody was about. He liked piano music, the motion pictures, and the poems he found in books. He also liked the automobiles that burnt oil from the earth like lamps. And the great jet planes that flew on the same scientific principles, above the clouds. He always stopped and listened to the people laughing and talking up there when one of the people laughing and talking up there when one of the planes flew overhead. Driving was an extraordinary pleasure. In a silver Mercedes-Benz, he had sped on smooth empty roads from Rome to Florence to Venice in one night. He also liked television-the entire electric process of it, with tiny bits of lights. How soothing it was to have the company of the television, the intimacy with so many artfully painted faces speaking to you in friendship from the glowing screen. The rock and roll, he liked that too. He liked the music. He liked the Vampire Lestat singing “Requiem for the Marquise”. He didn’t pay attention to the words much. It was the melancholy and the dark undertone of drums and cymbals. Made him want to dance. He liked the giant yellow machines that dug into the earth late at night in the big cities with men in uniforms, crawling all over them; he liked the double-decker buses of London, and the people-the clever mortals everywhere-he liked, too, of course. He liked walking in Damascus during the evening, and seeing in sudden flashes of disconnected memory the city of the ancients. Romans, Greeks, Persians, Egyptians in these streets. He liked the libraries where he could find photographs of ancient monuments in big smooth good-smelling books. He took his own photographs of the new cities around him and sometimes he could put images on those pictures which came from his thoughts. For example, in his photograph of Rome there were Roman people in tunics and sandals superimposed upon the modern versions in their thick ungraceful clothes. Oh, yes, much to like around him always-the violin music of Bartók, little girls in snow white dresses coming out of the church at midnight having sung at the Christmas mass. He liked the blood of his victims too, of course. That went without saying. It was no part of his little joke. Death was not funny to him. He stalked his prey in silence; he didn’t want to know his victims. All a mortal had to do was speak to him and he was turned away. Not proper, as he saw it, to talk to these sweet, soft-eyed things and then gobble their blood, break their bones and lick the marrow, squeeze their limbs to dripping pulp. And that was the way he feasted now, so violently. He felt no great need for blood anymore; but he wanted it. And the desire overpowered him in all its ravening purity, quite apart from the thirst. He could have feasted upon three or four mortals a night.

I was on the old Senators back in the ’33 Series, and Monte Davis stole all the Giants’ signals. What good did it do us? We couldn’t lick ’em. Any first-class catcher can mix up signs so that wiseacre out there on second will be crossed up. If he signs in a fast ball and the pitcher serves a hook—well, you know the answer. That’s one reason you don’t find Scrapper Knight or the good hitters taking information. I want this club to play heads-up, percentage ball; most of all I want them to do their own thinking out there, not be relying on someone handing them the signals....

When I don’t immediately reply, she punches me in the arm. “Ow, what the hell?! Just give me a minute!” I yell at her. “Yeah, that’s it! Get mad!” she demands, punching me again. “SON OF A BITCH, I WANT YOUR COCK IN MY PUSSY!” I shout at the top of my lungs, glaring at her as I rub the spot on my arm that already feels like it’s bruising. “BEND ME OVER THE COUCH AND FUCK ME HARD!” Ariel screams, threatening me with her fist held up in the air. “BEND ME OVER THE COUCH AND FUCK ME HARD!” Ariel claps her hands together in glee and bounces up and down on her stool. “Oh my God this is so much fun! It’s like having my very own wind-up, talking hussy doll. I WANT TO LICK YOUR BALLS!” “I WANT TO LICK YOUR BALLS!” I immediately shout back, starting to get the hang of this and not even a little bit embarrassed by the things coming out of my mouth now. “FUCK ME HARDER, LICK MY PUSSY, PUT YOUR DICK IN MY MOUTH, STICK IT IN MY ASS, TOSS MY MOTHERFUCKING SALAD!” Ariel immediately stops clapping and looks at me with wide eyes. “What? Too far?” I ask. “Jesus, way too far. I know I told you to cruise around on Urban Dictionary to pick up some new words, but that was clearly a mistake.

Kittens have rough tongues that remove dead fur and distribute oils throughout their own coats. Even though they give themselves these licking baths, they can still use your help with grooming brushes. Grooming your kitten regularly will help reduce fur balls and avoid tangles and matted down fur in long-haired breeds. When your kitten is sitting on your lap, use the brush along the sides of its body. Be gentle and careful. Offer them the brush to sniff. Some kittens will rub their faces on the brush because the scent is appealing.

You have no idea what you’ve just brought upon yourself,” I said, giving her a look of mock sympathy. “It will be my pleasure,” Father said, bowing his head slightly. Stran semi-rudely pushed my father out of the way to park himself in front of my woman. His dark scales shone under the overhead lights while he lifted his flat, lizard face towards Liena. She grinned, reaching to scratch the leathery skin beneath his chin. He purred, the sound closer to a growl, his widening pupils swallowing the dark blue of his large eyes. The long, scaly tail of the Crekel—underneath which vicious spikes protruded—wagged left and right with a slight scraping sound. “Hello, beautiful,” Liena said. “His name is Stran,” I said, happy that the Crekel had instinctively recognized Liena as my mate, just like he had with my mother when he first found and rescued her during the battle for Earth. “Hello, Stran,” she repeated, caressing the sharp horns on top of his head, careful not to cut herself. Stran licked her hand with his long, lizard tongue. Turning into a ball again, the Crekel rolled around Liena and me, the same way he had with my parents. Although he couldn’t speak, the intelligent creature had thus given us his blessing and acknowledged us as mates. Thanks to his thick scales, this form all but made him invincible to almost any type of damage and even allowed him to break through walls when he launched himself on them at high speed. With a final nod towards us, Father rejoined Legion and the other Warriors who patiently waited their turn to greet him. Stran, his

I’ve thought about you sucking my cock, your mouth stretched around me.” The heat of his words on my skin makes me jerk in his hand. “I’ve thought about making you take everything. Pumping deep until I can feel you swallow around me.” Yes. “I-is that what you want to do instead?” This might be too much for him to start with.  “You don’t have to do this.” “I want to.” He makes a fist around the base of my shaft and I moan in surprise. “That’s what I was getting at. I didn’t know I’d want this just as much. That my mouth would fucking water when I got this close.” Mother of—“Yes.” He mouths my flushed head, licking up a drop of my precum. When he moans, the sound shoots up my spine and tightens my balls.

He licked him up and down, then ran his tongue over Ty’s balls and sucked one of them into his mouth. “Oh fuck.” Ty huffed and reached for Zane’s cock, wrapping his mouth around the leaking head and starting to suck again. After

Ty didn’t care what his motives were once Zane licked all the way up his cock to the sensitive head. He

Are you sure?” Zane drawled before licking from Ty’s balls all the way to the head of his erect cock in one wet swath. “Might be important.” Ty’s

Ty kissed him again, covering the words with his mouth and licking at Zane’s tongue before working his way over Zane’s chin, down his neck, and across his chest to bite at the hard muscle of his shoulder. With every movement, Ty’s hand tightened in his hair. Each tug drew a soft groan, and each groan caused Ty to come back for another kiss. If Ty continued this way, he was never going to reach his goal, and Zane was going to come long before he got close. Finally,

Then he was back to trailing down Zane’s body as Zane shifted under him. Ty’s hands slid underneath him as he finally got to Zane’s hip and bit him, just hard enough to leave a red mark. It drew a cry of pleasure out of Zane. Ty sat up and yanked Zane’s boxers off, then propped the back of Zane’s thigh against his shoulder before bending over him and licking the head of his cock. “Oh

Ty continued on, seemingly devoted to making Zane lose it. But then he stopped abruptly, pulling off Zane’s cock with one last lick from balls to head. “No,

But then his tongue moved over me and started to lick the whipped cream over my sex, making my legs fall open, swiping the creamy coolness down and over my cleft, making a long, ragged moan escape me, dragging a rumbling sound from his chest that made another rush of wet pool as his mouth closed over my clit and sucked hard. Then he devoured me, drove me up fast and unrelenting until the orgasm started to crest, seeming to start at the base of my spine and exploding outward until it took over whole body, making me cry out his name as he took possession of my clit and sucked it in pulses as the waves washed over me, dragging it out, intensifying everything. As soon as the waves lessened, he released me and licked a line back upward, taking the whipped cream off my breasts then pressing up to balance over me, wicked look in his eyes. "Tell me." "Tell you what?" I asked, brain nothing but sparking misfirings right then. He smiled at that, either delighted with his prowess or glad to torture me more. Or, more likely, both. I grabbed the can of whipped cream as I moved to straddle him, watching as his eyes went knowing just a second before I started making a line down his stomach with the cream, then down the little happy trail, over his balls, and then up the underside of his cock until there was a large amount on the swollen head. Then I tossed the can to the side and gave him a smile before ducking my head and starting my path down, deciding that while foreplay was always good, it was infinitely better with food involved as my tongue licked the cream off his balls then his shaft before closing my lips around the head and licking it off from there as well, making Brant let out a deep, primal groan that spurred me on, made me work him faster, deeper. "Maddy..." he warned, but I didn't need a warning. I wanted to make him come. I wanted to give him the selfless orgasm he gave me. "Fuck," he growled, his hand crushing into the back of my head as he came down my throat. I worked him for a long moment before letting him slide away, looking up at him to find an intense weight in his gaze. "From now on, we only ever eat dessert off of each other," he said a second later, his hand going under my chin and pulling me until I moved to straddle him, bringing my face close to his. "I can get behind that plan," I agreed with a smile before he yanked me forward and our lips crashed together. It wasn't a slow, sweet, post-orgasm kiss. It was still wild, hungry, primal. It said we weren't done. "Come on," he said when he pulled away, a little out of breath. "Let's go take a shower. That was hot as fuck but we're both sticky now." Thank God. I didn't want to complain, but every time I moved, my skin got stuck to his skin and it was weird and decidedly unsexy. I went to move off him, but his arms went to slip around my lower back, holding me to him as he stood and started walking around the house. Then up the stairs. I was generally not the kind of girl who got carried around. I was fit, sure, but I was tall and leggy and most guys wanted to carry around the short, lithe little women. But since Brant was a huge wall of muscle, he didn't seem bothered by my height and less than dainty limbs. He set me on my feet outside the shower and reached in to put the water on, water I knew would take a couple of minutes to warm up. But he stepped in regardless, cursing at the cold spray. "Yeah, I think not," I said when he looked at me expectantly. I should have known to step away. I really should have. But I didn't and the next thing I knew, he was yanking me in with him, making me let out a string of incredibly unladylike curses before I felt the water get warmer against my back.

Moving down, Corey mouthed his way up Angelo’s inner thigh, then softened his tongue and ran it over his balls. Angelo took in a breath, then groaned. Corey’s tongue made another pass over Angelo’s sac, then licked a line up the length of his shaft. He sucked the head, swirling his tongue around it, then moved upward, biting along his ribs. Angelo’s

No, Avery, I want you to make me come twice," Kane pleaded, thrusting his hips up hard into Avery's palm. "Finish me." "No, I can't last that long." Avery tightened his grip and bent forward to lick the bead of pre-come gathering at Kane's tip. Kane spread his legs wide and bent forward looking up at Avery. Avery used his free hand to cup Kane's balls, slowly rolling them in his palm before sliding his fingers down and circling his tight rim. "You're tight, again." "We haven't been together for weeks," Kane said. Avery smiled down at him and lifted his brows. "Because of you.

Caleb’s hard cock, which appeared right in front of my eyes. Upside down. It took me a groggy moment to realize that Caleb had turned the wrong way around on the bed, and was nuzzling my balls with his lips. A warm tongue began licking the base of my morning erection. “Oh, Lord,” I gasped. A muffled chuckle came from my groin. “Somebody swore.” I had, too. And I thought I was probably going to do it again. Because that tongue. It was shameless. My cock was bathed in wet licks and kisses.

I stroked him again, loving the reaction. He fucked himself on my finger, and his breathing became shallow and quick. I kissed his face, his ear. Anything I could reach. Pleasuring Josh was my favorite thing to do in the world. There was nothing like it. Pausing for a little more of the magic liquid in the bottle, I tucked a second finger in with the first one, making Josh sigh and squirm against me. My own dick was throbbing, screaming for attention. Later, buddy, I promised. Hell. I might come from just listening to the impatient noises Josh made. “Caleb,” he panted. “Are you going to fuck me?” I stilled my hands on him for a moment, so that he would be able to focus on what I was about to say. “I wasn’t sure we should. Didn’t know if you’d feel bad about it afterwards. I mean… it’s more than just touching, you know?” “The Bible says not to.” His head lolled against my chest, and his tongue flicked out to lick my skin. “But I’ve always wanted it.” “Yeah? Do you think about it sometimes?” He flexed his hips, as if trying to restart my hands on his body. “In my daydreams, you hold me down and fuck me from behind.” Just hearing the words, my balls tightened. “Whew, Joshy. I want to. So badly. But if we’re trying this, I gotta see your face, okay? I have to know if I’m hurting you.” He began to suck on my nipple. His fingers closed around my dick, and he pumped me with his palm. “Caleb,” he whispered against my skin. “Just make me yours.” “You,” I said, kissing him on the forehead, “are already mine. You have always been mine. Now sit up with me.” I hauled us upright, until I was seated on the bed, my legs together, my back angled against the pillows.

Ruxs moaned a slutty sound, his hips speeding up and Green eagerly matched him. “Soon I’m going to put that pretty cock in my mouth and suck you until you explode down my throat,” he said, licking the shell of Ruxs’ ear. “Chris,” Ruxs hissed. “I’m not gonna last.” Green could feel his own balls tightening. It’d been too long since he’d had something besides his toys and his hand to pleasure him. Ruxs’ cock was hot and heavy against his. Pulsing greedily. “You like me talking to you like that?” Green squeezed his fist tighter, making sure to flick the cap of Ruxs’ bulging head with every stroke. “Answer me.” He bent down and bit Ruxs’ nipple, making him jerk so hard he almost fell off of him. “Shit!” Ruxs yelled. Green slowed his movement and raised his head. “Well, look what I found.” “You talk too damn much.” Ruxs gripped his head and lowered him back to his nipple. Green

Ruxs gripped Green’s rigid length, slowly stroking the base while he licked around the head. Sucking and nibbling lightly on the sensitive nerves. “Damnit.” Green moaned, wanting to thrust deeper into Ruxs’ sexy mouth. He cupped his hand on Ruxs’ jaw, the other hand on the back of his head. He pushed, wanting Ruxs to take him deeper, wanting Ruxs to put in more work. He could feel the flat of that warm tongue sliding up and down his shaft, the noises Ruxs made while he sucked him driving him insane with desire. He pushed some more and heard Ruxs gag and Green almost came right then. “Fuck yeah.” He pushed Ruxs head down again. His lover didn’t fight him. He went down, trying to take as much in as he could, choking when he had taken only half of Green’s length. “Shit. Yes. Choke on my cock, baby.” Green watched Ruxs’ every move. Felt his throat working under his palm. “That’s it, deeper. Ahhh.” Ruxs couldn’t take Green all the way down, but how hard he was trying was making Green’s toes curl and his spine tingle. Ruxs choking and spitting on his dick was a crazy fuckin’ turn-on for him. Ruxs gagged hard, pulled off him coughing and cursing like he was angry. “Fuck. Chris. Big fuckin’ dick.” Ruxs jerked him fast and hard, bending back down and sucking on the head. “Gonna make me come, babe. Shit. Just like that.” Green’s thighs flexed and his balls drew up tight against him. He reached under Ruxs’ body and pinched both of his nipples, hard, twisting them, enjoying the sharp crying sound Ruxs made around his dick. Green squeezed his eyes shut, his orgasm ravaging his body as he threw his head back, cursing in a low, growling timber. “Fucking, coming.” The first jolt from him had white lights dancing behind his eyelids. He let go of Ruxs’ abused nipple, gripping the back of his neck with both hands, forcing him down again. A powerful tremor shook him as he released more and more into that sexy mouth. Ruxs gagged again and Green saw his come leaking out of Ruxs’ mouth. He took his thumb and shoved it back in. His thumb and cock, spreading Ruxs’ plump lips. He held back his shouts as much as he could. But damn. Ruxs had him crazy with lust. Seeing and hearing Ruxs gag trying to take him deep, watching his come flood his mouth. Fuck! He’d never seen anything more erotic. 

Ruxs lifted Green’s limp cock and sucked into his mouth, making an obscene slurping noise. He gripped Green’s ass and yanked him hard against his face, taking all of the flaccid meat, down to Green’s pubic hair. He swallowed and licked, keeping his nose buried in that scratchy bush. Green was growing by the millisecond and he knew he’d have to pull back soon, only being able to take half of Green’s erect cock. It was exhilarating for him to have his lips pressed against Green’s pelvis and his own cock was hard as steel. He just barely stroked himself; he didn’t want to come yet. Green was more than half-hard and Ruxs could feel his throat resisting the intrusion. He eased back but Green grabbed the back of his head with both hands and held him there. Kept his nose buried in his pubes. Forcing him to take it. Ruxs squeezed Green’s ass, slapped him hard on it. Hard enough to leave a mark. Green grunted his name, kept forcing him to take more. Ruxs felt the head of Green’s cock against the back of his tongue; he tasted the saltiness from the precome. He balked hard, his choke muffled. Green held him tight. The bastard rocked his hips forward, making him take even more. Damn, it was hot as fuck. He got a solid grip on Green’s hip and tried unsuccessfully to push him back. He gagged hard. And oh how his lover was loving it. Ruxs’ eyes watered as he tried to fight his gag reflex. Tried to relax his throat. Wasn’t working. But the domination Green was exhibiting was sure as hell working on his cock. His dick pulsed untouched, twitched on its own. Fuck, he needed to come. He was gonna come.  “Take it.” Green’s voice was barely recognizable. The command was made on a throaty growl. Almost evil. The thick steam billowing from the shower engulfed his lover and made him appear as if he had emerged from fire. Green thrust again, his solid grip on the back of Ruxs’ head still uncompromising. His strength unyielding. Ruxs rose up higher, gagged and spit, trying to open his mouth wider. He scrambled at Green’s tight ass, took his middle finger, and pressed it deep into him. No spit, no lube. You fuckin’ take it. Green shouted, releasing Ruxs’ head. Ruxs yanked back, gasping in a much need breath, still coughing and choking from the lack of oxygen. “Motherfucker,” he gasped. Ruxs pushed his finger in further, pressed against that spongy bundle of nerves that had Green cursing him back and clasping his big hand around his throat. Green’s knees buckled but he didn’t go down. The look on his face was absolute feral ecstasy. Ruxs watched him through hooded eyes as Green’s orgasm hurtled to the surface, full throttle. Green pulled on his shaft one, two, three times, and then he was coming all over Ruxs’ neck, his cheek, his lips. Green’s body jerked and jolted with each jet of come that hit Ruxs’ face. Ruxs just barely got out his own guttural shout before his balls tightened exquisitely and come burst from him, hitting Green’s shins, coating his foot. With his head bowed, and bathed in his partner’s come, he bit into the fleshy part of Green’s thigh and let his orgasm course through him. Lived in it. Loved it. “Fuuuuck,” he moaned. No one could make him come this hard but the man he loved. They

Green gave Ruxs everything he had. He swallowed around the head of that sweet dick and dragged his teeth back up the solid shaft, making Ruxs’ body tremble from the spike of pain, before he licked a return path down it. He spread his thick thighs wider, wanting a better of view of that sacred place. Green cupped Ruxs’ sack and manipulated it until he could get the whole thing in his mouth. Ruxs loved it. The way he moaned and cursed the heavens told Green he’d found another hot button on his lover. But there was another spot he needed to explore. A spot deep inside. He licked Ruxs’ balls, reaching up to simultaneously pinch his nipples.  “Augh. Fuck you.” Ruxs groaned around a chuckle. “You know that’ll make me come.” Green’s

Syn.” Furi’s back arched off the cool sheets, needing to be touched by him. He’d prefer that touch to be on his cock, but anywhere would suit him. Syn started at Furi’s knee and licked his way up. Syn lifted Furi’s leg onto his shoulder and licked behind his knee while massaging his calf. Alternating licking both thighs, Syn slowed considerably when his face nestled into Furi’s balls. “Oh God,” Furi groaned, looking down his tight torso at Syn. So sexy between his spread knees looking like he didn’t know what part of Furi’s body he wanted to feast on first. Syn

Syn kept his gaze on Furi when he stuck out his tongue and sloppily dragged it from Furi’s balls up his shaft to his leaking head. Syn pulled that delicious skin back, lightly nibbling on it before flicking his tongue on the cap and delving in the slit, driving Furi insane before licking back down again. “You’re

Furi reached between them and gripped Syn’s balls and tugged on them making him grunt at the ache. “Shit! More,” Syn grumbled. “Fuck,” Furi moaned. It always turned him on when Syn begged him. Furi dipped low and took both his hands and cupped Syn’s balls and his cock applying ample pressure to both of them. He squeezed the head of Syn’s cock and simultaneously tugged his balls. Syn rose up on his toes and bucked his hips seeking more sweet torture. Furi’s cock was rising again. He nuzzled the side of Syn’s neck and licked a warm path to his ear. He pressed his lips firmly to the shell, whispering hoarsely, “Fuckin’ pain slut. Gonna give you all you can take this weekend.” Furi ran his tongue to Syn’s open mouth, his breath panting across Furi’s face while he breathed through the throb in his balls. “Please,” Syn whimpered. Holy hell. How’d I get this damn lucky? “Yes.

Michaels ran the flat of his tongue over the back of Judge’s balls, stopping right before he got to his hole. “Yessss. Let me hear you. I could look at your fine ass all night, Judge, but I’m making myself crazy with want. Damn, I fuckin’ want you bad, man.” Michaels’ hands were roughly kneading and rubbing Judge’s ass cheeks. “I’m gonna slick all this sexy hair down with my spit.” Michaels moaned and licked Judge again before he took a mouthful of his flesh and sucked on it hard enough to leave a mark. Judge’s cock was so hard he could’ve drilled a hole through the counter. Michaels really was turned on by him, by his ass… by his hair. Judge released the air that had built up in his lungs and tried to relax. Michaels did exactly what he said he was going to do. Judge’s cock jerked and leaked precome down the cabinet every time he felt Michaels’ warm spit hit his ass. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Feels

Fuck me. Austin.” Michaels grunted at the first couple inches of penetration. Judge hissed a satisfied, “Yes.” Michaels plunged in until his balls nestled against the soft fur on Judge’s ass. Michaels moaned low, his voice raw and rough. His pace didn’t match his dirty talk. The in and out tempo was slow and easy. Michaels used Judge’s thick shoulder to drive in deeper each time. He angled to the right, his dick had already mapped out Judge’s erogenous zones, and Michaels hit one every time. “Goddamnit,” Judge rumbled, beneath him. “I love you.” Michaels sighed over the moist skin at the base of Judge’s neck. “Do I feel good, babe?” Michaels whispered, his lips moving against Judge’s temple, his tongue licking out to claim the beads of sweat that slid across his brow. “Austin,

It’s popcorn,” I tell her slowly. I have no idea where she got the whole cockporn thing, but that is definitely not something I want her saying in public, or ever, for that matter. I can just see us going to a movie and her yelling, ‘I want COCKPORN!’ at the top of her lungs in the middle of a packed theater. “I know, cockporn.” She nods, licking her palm again. “No, Angel. POP-corn,” I tell her, pronouncing each syllable. “COCK-porn,” she says slowly back, like I’m deaf, and then places her hands on her hips. “Oh, geez,” I mutter, giving up, looking at Lilly, who is fighting laughter, and ask her, “Do you have a bag for this?” while holding my hand upside down, showing the ball is stuck to my palm and now looks like a penis and balls.

How long has it been?” He gave the underside of the human’s cock a slow reverse lollipop lick, head to balls. “Since you let yourself come in a man’s mouth?” “Oh,

How did you know where I live?” Deanna asked when he turned onto her street. “I run by here on my way to the gym. I’ve seen you a few times.” That was the absolute truth. He did run by on his way to the gym. And he’d seen her a few times. He’d also asked around and known where to look. “Oh, okay.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t think that’s the whole story.” Normally, being caught in a partial truth wouldn’t have been high up on the list of things Lucky liked, but the fact that she knew, or at least had a feeling, that he wasn’t being totally forthright made him happy. He liked that she had called him out. “I may have asked Sue Ann, Nikki, and then finally Lauren, who hooked me up with my rental, if anyone knew where you were staying.” He smiled the smile that usually got him out of the stickiest of spots. He called it “old faithful.” And it didn’t let him down. A smile spread across Deanna’s face even as she was shaking her head. “Jessie’s right. You’re not as cute as you think you are.” “Does that mean you think I’m cute?” “I think you’re trouble.” She blushed as her hand reached for the door. “Goodnight.” “What?” he asked, purposely sounding offended. “You’re not even going to ask if I want to come in for coffee?” She stared at the door handle and licked her lips, which made his solider stand at attention. With only the moonlight streaming in through the window, he could tell by her hesitancy that she was battling an internal war of whether or not she should. He waited. Though he wanted to use his charms to give her a gentle, or not so gentle, shove in the direction of green-light-go, he didn’t want her to do anything she didn’t want to. So, as much as it killed him to know that, within a few sentences, he could have her laughing and inviting him in, he remained quiet. After inhaling deeply through her nose, she opened the door, and his heart sank as his balls turned bluer than a Smurf. He smiled up at her to hide his discomfort and disappointment. He would walk her to the door, but he didn’t trust himself to be that close to her and not touch her or kiss her or do a lot of other things he’d been dying to do to her. Things he knew she wanted and, with a little encouragement, would be begging for. But that’s not how he wanted this to be. Not with her. She was too special. This was too special. “Goodnight. Thank you for coming with me today. You were great with the kids. They loved you. I…” He stopped himself. Had he been about to say that he loved her? No. Maybe? Shit. He didn’t have time to think about that. Trying to play it off, he finished his thought, “I really loved having you there.” A small grin pulled at her lips. “Fine. You can come in for coffee.” He didn’t need to be asked twice. He was out of the SUV and beside her so fast that it made her laugh. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll come in, but only because you asked so nicely.” She was still chuckling and shaking her head at him—which she did a lot—as they made their way up to the door. Once she’d opened it, he stepped inside. Small and cozy, it smelled like clean and fresh, just like Deanna. A small couch rested against the far wall, and a longer one, with a knit blanket thrown over it, was near the window. A flat screen television was on the wall opposite the larger couch, and a small fireplace took up one corner. Lucky could picture Deanna curled up on the couch, in sweats with her hair pulled up, showcasing her sexy neck, the fire roaring as she watched television. At the thought, the same word that continued to pop up in his mind made an appearance. Mine. “Do you want decaf or…” she asked over her shoulder as she closed the door. “Oh, I don’t want coffee, but thanks.” He grinned and took a step closer to her. Stepping back, she was flat against the door. Then she pointed accusatorily at him. “You said you wanted coffee.” “No. I didn’t.

Dom leaned back to study the flesh in front of him. He was long and curved, not quite as thick as Dom, and the purple head was already leaking fluid. Dom took a quick lick, then used his hands to test the weight of Logan’s balls. “Please,

But what do you care about Qorlec?” went on Dr. Zorgone. “I heard you escaped Alsa Sif V, and immediately upon your departure,” he frowned, “you set coordinates for Earth?” He laughed softly, nastily, and Quinn felt anger shiver through her to see the twinkling mockery in his eyes. “What would your people think to know that, I wonder?” continued Dr. Zorgone, tilting his head. “The first place you ran to wasn’t Qorlec, wasn’t the ancient home of your ‘mighty’ ancestors, but the polluted shit-ball of ape people? The true home of the true empress is Earth.” His eyes danced over her, searching, hungry. “You speak Roknal and English fluently, but I bet you don’t know a damn lick of Aviye. The entirian princess isn’t even entirian --” “What do you want?” Quinn said abruptly. “What do I want?” repeated Dr. Zorgone, rolling his eyes to the starry sky. “Let’s see . . . What do I want? I always wanted an indoor pool.” Quinn’s lips tightened.

Max spread my legs and knelt between them. The tip of his cock pressed against my hole and a shiver ran down my spine. “Oh, fuck. I’ve been thinking about this since the last time.” I had been. The thought of his dick up my ass was firmly rooted in the back of my mind no matter my task. “You mean last night?” He snorted. I lifted my head and saw his reflection; he was smiling. “I…” Max pressed his tip inside me. Yeah, I completely forgot what I was going to say. My whole body clenched up and then relaxed as he gently coaxed his length deeper. “Fuck it all to Earth, that feels amazing.” He kept pushing forward, slowly piercing me. “Yes, yes it does.” I grunted when he went deeper, spreading, filling, overpowering. Then Max leaned over me. He practically laid on me, his front pressed along my back. His hands stretched out, falling over mine and our hands twined together. Being that I was shorter it was the perfect position to hold my hands and fuck me. He softly placed kisses along my shoulder and licked my earlobe. “Elric. I love you.” Those words made me smile as wide as I could. He loved me! Max eased his cock out and then back in. His pace was completely controlled, forcing me to experience unending pleasure as his words swirled in my head. “Max,” I muttered against the blankets. Each thrust made my dick slid against the pants under my hips. I squeezed his hands harder as he humped me. His teeth grazed the back of my neck. He was breathing heavier. His movements were a bit more rushed. My cock was swelling to the brim. Between his beautiful length stabbing me and my dick rubbing along that material, I was going to blow. I could feel the tension building. My balls were tight to my body, the pressure too much. I moaned, meeting Max thrust for thrust. He groaned in my ear. Our warm bodies squirmed against each other. “Oh, yes. Please. Yes.” It felt so good. I had to come. Please, I’m so close. Almost. Almost there. Max went deep in one long, slightly painful move. The mixture sent me right over the edge. I let out a moan too low to hear as my orgasm spilled out. Even as I rutted against the pants Max held still, holding my hands and letting me ride the wave of pleasure. I was in sensation overload as cum sprayed out of my slit. Warm and sticky, I thrusted one last time and then collapsed. Max started again, slowly working his way deeper and then pulling out. Once, twice, then three times. I counted each move as I closed my eyes and savored the feeling of his body over mine. He was like a cocoon of warmth and … cock. Yeah, that sounded accurate. “Max.” He started moving faster, his length slipping in and out of my ass. “Max.” He squeezed my hands and kissed my shoulder. “Max.” He came, his body erupting behind me as he started in a fit of groans. They echoed in the room as he emptied into me. When he slowed to a stop, we both laid there a moment.

My mind flashes back to the Shadow Garden years ago, to the pangs of envy in my stomach as I watched Sebastian and Lucia before growing a flower with my hands. I recall the overpowering grief spilling out of me the night I created the ball of fire, the desperate yearning for my mother a few weeks ago when I grew a rose, my longing for Sebastian when I changed the colors in the Maze. Heightened emotion. That must be the trigger to my gift. I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing my thoughts away from the fire in this room and back to the nightclub in Windsor. Swaying in Sebastian's arms, my head nestled beneath his chin, our faces nearly meeting--- My eyes fly open as the sizzling sensation returns to my hands. I watch win awe as tiny cracks begin to form in my fingertips--and water comes sprouting from them. Teddy howls in shock as I move may hands over the wastebasket, the water from my fingers extinguishing the fire, until all that remains is a smoky aftermath. Teddy leaps into my arms, licking my face in relief. "We're okay, buddy. We're okay." I hold his furry little body close, and after setting him down, I stare at my hands in wonder. They've returned to normal. the cracks are gone. What I've just done is completely insane... but also a miracle.

Do you like what he’s doing, little one?” Kerr said as I licked his balls.

Thanks to my heat, my dick didn’t even have a moment to be flaccid. It sprung right back up as Ramsay’s cock fucked my depths, making pleasure sink down to my balls. “Fuck, fuck,” I whimpered helplessly. Now Eric’s hand wrapped around my sensitive cock and I bit back a pathetic cry. He was gentle, careful not to overstimulate me as he slowly played with my cock. Colton licked his lips and flanked my other side so that his cheek nuzzled mine. He peppered kisses on my face and along my jaw.

Had he read about Lord Lucifer? Did he know the man was him? Had he read the sinful thoughts Miss Hamilton had about him? Violet had written them too honestly and explicitly for publication. She had intended to go back and edit out some of the more wicked lines. They had been little more than girlish fantasies she had set to paper. Those lines came out to torment her now. He was depravity and his name was Lord Lucifer, the dark angel himself come to earth to tempt innocents. Rose had never so wanted to be debauched as when he gazed upon her. And this one: She stared at his mouth, the sensual lips and pink tongue licking at the drop of honey, and she longed to feel him licking at her. Oh, dear God! Neither of those were ever meant to see the light of day. She had written the last one in a heated moment after coming home from a ball where he had eaten a honey-drenched fig.

When I’m finished painting his abdomen with clay, I lick him from his balls, all the way to his tip, and then purr, “Now you’re a real-life version of the David.” “And you’re my Venus de Milo,” he replies, not missing a beat. He adds, “With arms, of course.” To emphasize that last point, he smears clay down my left arm, and then my right. He grabs more clay, takes my face in his palms, and kisses me. After that, he pulls me to standing along with him and smears even more wet clay across my belly and ass. He bends down and devours my breasts and nipples for a bit, making me shudder and moan softly, before smearing those areas with wet clay, as well. “You’re a work of art, Laila,” he whispers, his dark eyes blazing and his tone passionate.

When they give me the ring, I’ll carve your name inside it to remember the guy who licked my balls while I won the game-winner.

I squinted at him suspiciously. “Are you… trying to get to know me better?” He glared back, utterly unimpressed that I was questioning his olive branch. “You licked my balls last night, Marx. I figured maybe we could make an attempt at finding common ground that doesn’t involve Danny’s cunt.

The bowl was always warm, and Sydney liked to sleep in it. Occasionally, since it was old, the thing would come on by itself for a moment using whatever residual magic was nearby, and the entire camp would get a fine view of Sydney licking his balls until someone noticed and shut the telcaster off.

the caviar of ball fetishists. Licking him there was a full-on mouthgasm.

motioned to the owner. “What do you call this dog?” she asked. “She’s a Yorkie Poo. Six weeks. She just came in yesterday, and she’ll be gone in a few days. She’ll make a wonderful pet. I always recommend female dogs for women. You probably won’t believe this, but Yorkies are great little watchdogs.” Casey nodded. The moment the dog was placed in her hands, she knew she had a friend. She was so tiny she could fit in Casey’s raincoat pocket. She cradled the dog to her cheek. She felt so warm and so alive. Holding the puppy against her cheek, she meandered down the kitten aisle until she came to the last cage, where four kittens romped with a ball of string. “That one,” she said, pointing to a yellow tiger cat. “Good choice.” The owner beamed. The Yorkie licked at the kitten, who playfully swiped at her with one tiny paw. “They’ll get along, contrary to what you may have heard about dogs and cats. The kitten is just five weeks old, so the Yorkie will be boss, you’ll see. What else will you need?” Casey shrugged helplessly. “I never had an animal before. You tell me.” “Two kennels, two beds, leashes, food, a few toys, their own blankets, litter box and litter. It’s almost like outfitting a room for a new baby,” the owner said happily. “Can you deliver?” Casey asked anxiously. “Of course. If you like, I can drive you home with the animals. I’ll close the store for a little while. Do you live close by?” “Seventy-ninth, around the corner really. I appreciate it.

She returned to where I stood, and handed over a flower. I inspected the borage, holding it up like a culinary scientist, noting the blue petals, offset by white stamens, and a raised white ball-like structure in the center, decorated with a purplish-blue pattern with hints of red that resembled a planet or a galactic moon. My heart skipped a beat. Aside from Marie's desserts, I'd never seen anything so beautiful. "This flower is mystical and magical," I said. "Did fairies or aliens create them?" "I'd go with fairies. The thought of aliens flips me out. Eat it," she said, and I did. The flavors of this edible flower rolled on my tongue in waves. A crunch. A bitterness. And sweetness. I closed my eyes, reveling in the magic, the flavor, thinking about what we could do with this. I met her gaze. "Oh my god. You're so right. They taste like cucumbers," I said, licking my lips.

Kai glanced over at me, then gave a sigh. “So, I know you like grenade launchers, but what’s your gun of choice?” I squinted at him suspiciously. “Are you… trying to get to know me better?” He glared back, utterly unimpressed that I was questioning his olive branch. “You licked my balls last night, Marx. I figured maybe we could make an attempt at finding common ground that doesn’t involve Danny’s cunt.” A mocking laugh rolled out of me at that, remembering the horrified look in his eyes. “Calm down, Sasquatch, I was just messing with you in the moment.” I paused, then sighed.

And what was Lou Gehrig doing on a team like that? How did he fit in? What was he like? Why he was doing as he pleased. And it pleased him neither to drink, nor to wench, or to stay out late. And he nudged the pellet just the same, because life is like that. Some do and some don’t. Lou liked his straight. And the other guys respected him for it. And they didn’t kid him about it either. Because on a ball club, really to kid a guy you ought to be able to lick him in case he gets sore. And there wasn’t anybody on the outfit who cherished notions of pushing Lou Gehrig around. But besides, nobody wanted to.

Alison continued squeezing the inflatable ball on the blood pressure monitor. I could sense the tension on her face as she carefully licked her lips, then glanced up at him with the subtle nuance of an American Idol judge at a hootenanny.

The air between us was electrified. Licking my lips, I finally asked, “Who are you?” His mouth spread in a sinister smile. “Isn’t that the whole point of a masquerade ball? To not know anything about anyone?” I nodded while I tried to swallow the disappointment. You just freaking met him, woman; get a grip! “Probably.” My hoarse reply made him squeeze my hand harder, and then he let go. “What’s a beautiful girl like you doing outside alone?” His abrupt change of subject seemed wrong, like he was acting a part. His demeanor changed; his mouth lifted in a cocky smile.

Griff trundled over to his mat and gave his balls a few good licks before promptly falling asleep.

Fine. Go ahead. Intimidate me. I’ll insult you again, then you’ll run back to your office to lick your balls and strategize for the next round.

Griff trundled over to his mat and gave his balls a few good licks before promptly falling asleep. Clay fought down a surge of envy, seeing that.

A relationship is like the law. It needs balance. If it’s out of balance, if one person sees themselves as less valuable, if another sees themselves as more valuable, the balance isn’t there.” His dark eyes are boring into mine with his words, and any words I could say are stuck in my chest. “You are not less than me. I am not less than you. We are humans who do what we can to help people.” Silence. I don’t respond. I don’t . . . This man was supposed to be an ass. At best, a nice guy who was a little stuck-up and into himself. I could handle that. I could handle a man who has a bit of a superiority complex, especially if he could fuck me into tomorrow and help me get my revenge. A no brainer, really. But this? A man who is kind and caring and understanding and can fuck me into tomorrow? I don’t know what to do with it. So I just say, “Oh.” Like an idiot. And for some reason, Damien doesn’t find my loss of words annoying or stupid. Instead, he just smiles at me and shakes his head like he finds me sweet. “Yeah, oh.” He leans forward again, pressing his lips against mine. “I want you to stay the night. Here, with me.” “Damien, that’s sweet, but I really am a crazy sleeper.” “Are you saying that because you don’t want to spend the night here or with me? Or are you saying that because you’re worried about my sleep quality?” He says it with a smile. I scrunch my nose but don’t answer. His eyebrow raises, and the smile spreads. We’re in a standoff. “Your funeral,” I say in a mumble. “If I kick you in the balls in my sleep and you can’t walk straight tomorrow, not my fault.” Damien just smiles, pressing his lips to mine again, but not in that soft, sweet way. “Yeah, well, let’s see if I can tire you out. Help you sleep well. Maybe we can make it so you’re the one who can’t walk straight tomorrow,” he says, then his lips move to my neck, licking and sucking a path down. And you know what? I sleep soundly all night in Damien’s bed, his leg hitched up over my hip, keeping me pinned in place the entire time. TWELVE November 7 -Abbie- “He took you there?!” Cam says, her voice going up at least three octaves with the words. It’s the day after my date with Damien. This morning my internal clock woke me up at seven, and I attempted to roll out of his fancy ass bed and dress in my clothes from the night before quietly, needing to be at the store by 10 and knowing I needed to get home, change, and be ready for work in three hours. His arm, still weighed down with the nicest Rolex I’ve seen, was

things begin to lose their natural value as they near human endeavor. nothing against Beethoven: he did fine for what he was but I wouldn't want him on my rug with one leg over his head while he was licking his balls.