Slap!

2.2

Reblog if you don't have a girlfriend or boyfriend.

If you remember this, you had an amazing childhood!!!

Wouldn't suprise me if this happens in a few years.

guys help, i want to fuck the robot

Preview of the Azula's House of Wonders AU

Ursa had learned many things about herself in the course of a life that would be long and historical, in some ways better than others. She had always internalized that her fire was a source of devastation and ruin, that it could destroy and was incapable of doing anything else. And yet here she was, taking a technique in a faintly desperate hope from her mother's scrolls and writings, hovering with indigo flame over Azula's withered arms, seeking to reactivate chi.

It was a paradox of Benders (and non-Benders too, perhaps, not that she would know and not that it occurred to her to even ask, then) that they could heal physically but if the inner flow of chi, that great mystical wellspring of all power, was not fixed nothing else would work. Azula had withered in more than spirit, she had withered in soul. Even then she stared at a corner as if some hellish thing stood there that she could not see.

Perhaps it did, one who lived near the Forgetful Valley could not dismiss such things out of hand. She had no real expectation that it could work. Mother had worked such wonders and she had sliced steel and trees as if it was nothing.

When it was done she moved back and sat, folding her hands in her lap, afraid to hope.

--------

Azula had quietly tried this repeatedly through the search for Ursa, hating every second of being caught in her brother's desperate dream without any say-so, any freedom to move. All the big and small humiliations she'd gone through and the insult to injury of knowing her mind lied to her.

Her fires had seemed to have guttered out in her arms and legs, and yet when she focused on Chi it was there for the first time in a year and a half. She took a deep breath and focused on a small thing. The ability merely to move her fingers.

------

Ursa saw her daughter's fingers tremble, a slight tremor, so very slight a thing and then her daughter was crying. a look of awed disbelief on her face. Ursa looked at her own hands for a moment and in that moment she would speak in later years, began to wonder if she had dreamed too small and punished her own daughter for dreaming too grandly (and in but two years time she would not wonder, she would know and add it to a long series of private regrets she carried to her grave).

"I can feel my arms," she heard a choked up voice say, "for the first time in a year and a half."

Golden eyes ran with tears and met her own and she moved without hesitation to sit near Azula.

"Thank you mother, I love you." It was almost imperceptible but the sincerity....

Ursa would have spoken those words in turn but she knew, from the stories that the Avatar and others had told her on the return trip that a ghost of her had spoken them and helped drive her daughter into this state.

So she did not say them, she merely put her arm on her daughter's shoulder and leaned in, resting her head on her shoulder. Azula understood and she did not see the gratitude in those eyes that she restrained herself from speaking words that would hurt her. If she had she would have felt even sadder than she was at that moment.

It was at that moment that the spectre of Ursa with those sad eyes and a cutting voice that Azula had seen for so long stood in the corner of the room and gave her a smile that was a pale ghost of the true woman beside her, and vanished, never to be seen again.

A small snippet based on my text post. To sum things up about it, basically someone started a running joke about Aloy and Beta being oblivious hermits, and they decide to enact their revenge like any true siblings would.

–

“Hey Aloy? Can I ask you something?” 

The huntress in question looked up at her sister, and hummed in response. While it wasn’t unusual at all for Beta to ask her questions, something about this time just seemed… different. 

Perhaps it was the tone of her voice, the set of her shoulders, or something in the air. 

Or maybe it was the shine in her eyes speaking of untold pain and mischief for someone deserving. 

“Where do babies come from?”

All hustle in the common room froze. No one moved nor made a sound, beyond Erend’s wheezing as he choked on his ale. 

It was like a spark between them. A moment of connection. The stars had aligned, their crops were watered, their pores were cleared, and for once, Aloy and Beta were on exactly the same wavelength. 

Revenge.

“Well Beta,” Aloy answered slowly, hastily covering the sadistic gleam in her eyes matching Beta’s own as everyone else sighed in relief over the fact that clearly, Aloy had it handled now.

Oh, those sweet summer children. Those poor unfortunate souls. Those novices tripping over their hunting spears. Like she would ever give up such a golden opportunity. 

Aloy employed every bit of training Rost ever gave her, every moment she pretended she was Rost, every last bit of experience she had gained in her twenty-something years to keep her composure. “I don’t actually know.” And all at once, the tension skyrocketed. Alva squeaked and dropped her glass, spilling water everywhere. Kotallo stared off into the middle distance, like he was chiseled out of stone. Zo twitched, her hands spasming erratically over her stomach. Erend let out a strangled whine, thumping his chest to get his breath back in him. Aloy locked eyes with Beta, each of them acknowledging that this, this moment right here, was truly the start of a greater connection. A greater whole. A true sisterhood. It started right here, getting sweet, sweet revenge on everyone on base. She turned to the others, Beta copying her movement. 

“But I’m sure someone else knows. Why don’t we ask them?”

The sisters watched in concealed pleasure as everyone else turned green. Yes, life was good.

THEY DIGIVOLVED TOGETHER TO BECOME....OMNINON!!!

This whole scene from the movie wad FIRE🔥🔥

new tag game: the thing you most often pretended to be as a kid—whether it was a horse, a bride, a queen, a specific character, a knight, a lawyer, a baby, anything—is symbolically representative of you currently. what is it for you?

[MF] Met a young girl online and flew her across the world to meet me

I’ve lurked on Gonewild Stories for a few years now, but never thought much about writing a story about myself before a few weeks ago, when I had one of the more interesting/unusual sexual experiences of my life. I’ve decided to write it down mostly for myself (as a journalistic writing exercise and as a way to hold onto the original memory and all of the specific sensations I felt and thoughts I had at the time).

I tend to get far more enjoyment out of stories that feel true and authentic; I suspect that many here feel the same way. With that in mind, here is my disclaimer: the story that follows is true, and my goal is to summarize the events with the utmost accuracy, even when those events do not reflect optimally on me or create the ideal pace, tone, whatever. It all happened, exactly as I will recount it.

I first started feeling stir-crazy about a month into my project in Mumbai. My company had sent me there on a 3-month stint with all of the expat benefits – free food/drink/transport, accommodations at a fancy hotel, and an extra “hardship” stipend to account for the fact that I had left my comfortable life in the United States behind and moved to what is frankly a hopelessly polluted, cacophonous, over-crowded city that is rather difficult and unpleasant to navigate unless you know the city well. I was working hard during the week only to piss away most of my weekend at lousy hotel clubs with my co-workers, who all had a hard time getting their heads out of work and office politics.

The local girls in Mumbai were pretty but also seemingly inaccessible. I chatted up some local girls on the street, exchanged some phone numbers, and even went on a few dates, but in my 4-5 weeks there, didn’t find anyone with whom I was clearly compatible. The girls I met in clubs were insufferable and seemingly more interested in Instagram than real life, and the girls I approached in cafés/restaurants were simply too different from me, and the huge cultural differences prevented any real romantic or even sexual connection.

In my impatience, I decided to find a short-term fling online, through a site that matches girls interested in traveling with men who are willing to cover the related expenses. The whole thing felt morally ambiguous to me (wasn’t I really just trading money in the form of a plane ticket for sex?), but sometimes it seems that we put aside those sorts of subtle moral qualms when sex is concerned. I was eager to get something scheduled as I had a 10-day vacation lined up and didn’t want to waste that time traveling solo or just slouching around the hotel the whole time.

After a day of searching and messaging girls who seemed to be compatible with me, I found a potential match, and in many ways I couldn’t believe my luck. She was 18 years old – a recent high school graduate who was a few months into her first year of design school in New York City, at that time on a 2-week winter holiday, living back at home with her parents and quite obviously bored out of her mind. She’d done some international traveling before (some of the major European capitals, Canada, a beach vacation to Mexico), but a trip to India sounded “totally awesome” to her, to use her words.

We booted up Skype to introduce ourselves more properly, and here is what we saw when our laptop camera lights blinked on:

Her – 18 years old, no more than 5’3”, ethnically Chinese, very petite frame (realistically around 105 lbs.), braces, small cute face, and very plump lips

Me – 29 years old, Caucasian, 6 feet tall, lean/athletic (runner’s body, 170 lbs.), closely-trimmed beard, short brown hair, blue eyes

Reader, was I doing something improper? Was the age gap simply too much? Did the fact that I liked her braces make me a total creeper? I assure you that I don’t care at all what you think about what I was doing at that moment. And if you find yourself even a small bit interested in what was to happen next, then consider yourself an accessory to my decision to invite this girl to travel with me in India.

During our conversation, I was pleased to find that she was actually quite intelligent and interesting, and in some ways, mature beyond her age. She admitted to me that she had broken up with a long-term boyfriend about 2 months previous, and she was looking for a new experience to help get her mind off of the him and the emotional messiness surrounding their split. We talked about her design degree, my job, life in India so far, and the historical sites that she was interested in seeing. It felt very natural to be talking to her in this way (like a good first date), and I was immediately happy to have met her in the first place. At the end of the conversation, I knew that we had to discuss logistics, so I went into a short soliloquy:

“So, to talk about the details of this trip and how it might happen… My idea was to buy your plane ticket from New York and cover all of the expenses that you’ll have out here – food, transportation, hotels, and basic shopping.”

“That sounds great,” she said. I knew that I wanted to say more, so I just decided just to say it, though without being overly direct. I didn’t want to scare her aware or come across as vulgar.

“We’ll obviously be sleeping in the same bed for the whole trip, and it would be great if we could find a sexual or romantic connection together. But I would only feel right about it if the connection was real and we were both comfortable with it.” I paused, not knowing what she would say. I half expected her to cut off the Skype call at that moment.

“It would be pretty ridiculous of me to fly all the way to India and not have sex with you,” she said. I thought to myself that I should have been blunter in the first place, to at least match the way that she was evidently thinking about the matter. Regardless, I appreciated her comment because it put the entire trip into very clear focus; the expectations from both sides were laid out completely bare.

So I bought her ticket, made all of the necessary arrangements, and two weeks later found myself at the Mumbai International Airport, looking for her face amid the stream of people exiting baggage claim. My heart skipped a beat when I did see her face, probably because I was half-expecting her not to board the plane in the first place. The whole thing could have been an elaborate ruse to get me to set $2000 on fire, or maybe she could have gotten cold feet at the airport in NYC. But there she was, rather audaciously wearing a slinky light orange cotton jersey dress that very clearly showed her nipples and the outer edges of her breasts. As she got closer, I realized that she wasn’t wearing bra.

She flashed me a nervous smile and walked into my open arms; we gave each other a loose hug.

“I’m glad that you actually came to meet me. If you hadn’t come, I would’ve been screwed,” she said. Certainly, this whole set-up required a great deal of trust on both our parts.

“It’s my job to make sure you’re well taken care of here,” I said. I realized that it may have come off as overly paternalistic. “Anyway, don’t worry. We’ll head to the hotel now.”

I led her over to the VIP taxi rank, avoiding the huge line in the normal queue. I didn’t want to wait the requisite 45 minutes for the normal taxi, but I took a bit of pride in showing that we were going to be traveling in style for the next week and a half.

We made small talk in the back of the taxi, and I pointed out some of the major landmarks as we passed them along the road.

“Also, here’s a small ‘survival’ package,” I said. I handed her a small zipped satchel. “In there is a local SIM card, enough cash for a few meals and long taxi rides, and directions in English and Hindi for how to get to the hotel. In case we get separated.”

She smiled at me and exhaled, seemingly out of relief. It was probably at that moment that she felt assured that I was not secretly a crazy person.

We arrived at the hotel and walked through the elaborately decorated foyer (which she ogled for a bit) to the elevator. When the door shut on the elevator, we were alone for the first time. I looked down at her and smiled. I put my hand on the middle of her back.

“I’m so glad that you’re here,” I said. She laughed, rather mysteriously. I wasn’t sure what she meant by it. I rolled my eyes at her.

I opened the door to the hotel room (my “home” for the past month or so) and dropped her duffel bag onto the luggage rack. Not knowing what precisely to say next, I gave her a tour.

“The kitchen, the living room, the bedroom, and the bathroom.”

“This looks more like a fancy apartment than a hotel room,” she said.

“I guess it’s technically called an ‘executive residence.’”

“’Hmm, an executive? Aren’t you proud of yourself?”

“Their words, not mine.” She didn’t look tired at all, despite the long flight. She was looking at me with bright, wide-open eyes. “You look exhausted,” I lied. “Do you need something to eat?”

“No, but I do want to get ready for bed.” She said it plainly, without any detectable hint of innuendo.

“I’ll make you some chamomile tea,” I said, not caring if she wanted it or not. I simply wanted to feel useful and knew that otherwise I’d have nothing to do but stare at her as she unpacked to pretend to check emails on my phone.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her grab a bag of toiletries and head to the bathroom.

I was feeling nervous and a bit ill-at-ease. Despite all of my past experiences with women, this situation was different enough to make me feel flat-footed. Usually when I invited someone back to my apartment or hotel, I’d had sufficient time to get to know her. Perhaps there had been a couple of introductory dates. Maybe we were old friends or co-workers. Maybe we had met at a bar and had spent enough time pounding shots and grinding against each other on the dancefloor that we could without reservations pounce on each other as soon as the door shut behind us. But the fact that this girl and I had only met each other in person 45 minutes ago but still carried with us the expectation of sex without the confidence that we’d be able to build real chemistry made the whole situation unusual. I was, frankly, caught in my own head.

She strolled out of the bathroom, and I started laughing out loud. She had changed into a sheer red lace teddy that was just long enough to cover her entire ass. She was still braless, so her dark brown nipples were clearly visible as she walked toward me.

“What are you laughing at?” she said, almost deadpan but with a hint of irony.

“That is a bold outfit. I assume that’s what you always wear to bed?”

“Actually it is.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it or not.”

She turned to place her dirty clothes back in her duffle bag. I noticed that she underneath her teddy she was wearing a matching red lace thong whose back was completely lost between her two plump ass cheeks. I thought to myself – Is this girl for real?

I leaned up against the counter in the kitchen, a cup of chamomile tea steaming silently next to me, while I observed her unpack her clothes and place them into the cabinet drawers. Her body was truly distinctive – unlike any other than I had seen in the flesh. She was very slim and lean at the shoulders, waist and thighs, with practically no muscle at all. She was naturally thin but had clearly never had a serious day of exercise in her entire life. Despite being so thin, her ass and breasts were improbably round and chubby. Even without a bra, her breasts sat up, as if they were perched on some invisible balconette.

I felt awkward being fully clothed while she unpacked her things in her skimpy outfit, so I went into the bedroom to take off my shirt and pants. I generally sleep in boxers, but I figured that I might as well wear something tighter to match her audacity. I put on a pair of low rise boxer briefs in a thin fabric so that the outline of my dick was clearly visible. Looking in the mirror, I could clearly see the curved ridge of my dick’s head.

I walked back into the living room. “Your tea is in the kitchen. You ought to drink it before it gets cold,” I said. She glanced over at me; her face didn’t show any clear reaction to what she was seeing. She picked up the cup and gulped down the whole cup of tea in one shot and went back to busying herself with unpacking.

Though she was good at hiding her emotions behind plain facial expressions and a flat verbal affect, there was something that struck me as both frantic and listless in the way she was fiddling with her suitcase. It seemed that perhaps she was just as flustered as I was but was merely showing it in a different way.

“Leave the packing for tomorrow. It’s midnight. Let’s get to bed, and you can take care of it in the morning,” I said. I thought that by getting into bed, we would either cut the sexual tension immediately or at least sleep off the most awkward part of the trip, waking up with the sense of intimacy that sleeping in the same room as someone tends to give.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” she said, and without fanfare she walked into the bedroom and crawled under the blankets. I flicked off the light without closing the blinds. Outside the window there was a spectacular view of the lights of the Mumbai city sprawl. She was lying on her side, looking out the window.

In bed, I moved close enough to her that we were spooning, and I looked out at the lights as well. I didn’t know if she was going to move away from me, thinking that it was too close too soon, but she didn’t budge. It felt like the right thing to do. She had trusted me to pick her up at the airport, and I had trusted her to get on the plane. There was a certain intimacy to be had simply by both sides fulfilling their part of the bargain. And it struck me that I was probably just as lonely as she was. I was in a foreign country with no family and no real friends, and she was reeling from a bad break-up, looking for something to help her leave it behind.

I listened to her soft breathing and inhaled the smell of her hair. She smelled nice but unfamiliar, somehow. I wrapped my arm across her chest and held her firmly against my chest. She reached her hand up and wrapped it around my forearm. We rested like that for a few minutes.

Then, one of us moved almost imperceptibly, and it felt as if my penis had softly rubbed up against one of her butt cheeks. Was I the one who had moved? Or was it her? Were we simply repositioning, or was it intentional? I honestly wasn’t sure. Was she even still awake? Wanting to see, I softly pushed against her ass with my pelvis, and I felt my bulge roll down the side of her ass and nestle between both cheeks. Then I felt with total clarity that she ground back against my pelvis, pushing her body against mine in a wave.

I gripped her even more tightly with my arm as I felt the blood start pumping into my dick. I let my other hand start to roam across her body – down her back and across her ass. I rolled her body toward me and finally kissed her on the lips. We both inhaled sharply through the nose as our lips made contact. I wrapped my hands across her cheeks and temples and held her face close to mine. We kissed again and again like that, and she pushed her tongue into my mouth to start a push and pull of licking and sucking on each other’s lips. I pulled down her thong and then got on top of her, between her legs. I kissed from her belly button up her stomach as I scooped off her teddy and pulled it up to her shoulders. She pulled it the remaining way off.

I looked down at her body in the pale light, seeing her naked for the first time. What struck me at that moment was not the appeal of any particular body part but rather how small she was. Her hands, her waist, her shoulders, her neck: all were smaller and more petite than those of any other girls with whom I had had sex before, and she looked even smaller when totally exposed in this way, lying beneath me and on her back, with her hands cupping her breasts out of modesty. Her legs were open just wide enough to accommodate me sitting between them. I could clearly see the two small lips of her labia, which were totally smooth and without hair.

I pulled off my underwear and perched over her body. The sheer difference in size between us physically made the moment even more exciting than it would have been otherwise. I thought less about the specifics of wanting to fuck her and far more about the desire to dominate her physically; I was filled with the inchoate desire of wanting to somehow control her and make her belong to me. She spread her legs wider and raised her hands above her head and gripped the top of the bed’s headboard, seemingly offering herself up to me.

I pulled my body side by side with hers, licked my index and middle finger and started slowly rubbing them in circles around her clitoris. She started breathing in and out sharply. I dipped my fingers lightly into her vagina every 10 seconds or so and could feel her suddenly become wet with a small internal burst of fluid.

I wanted to talk to her.

“I can feel you getting wetter and wetter,” I said.

“Uh huh…”

“I really want to feel inside your pussy…”

“Uh huh…”

“I wanna fuck you deep…”

“Uh huh…” She seemed too shy to talk back in full sentences.

“I think you’re ready to fuck now…”

“Uh huh…”

“Or do you want a little more time?” No response. “I think you’re ready. Tell me that you want to fuck now.”

“Now…”

“Are you sure you want me to fuck you now?”

“Yes…”

“I’m going to lick your pussy to get you wetter, and then I’m going to fuck you.” I quickly moved my head between her legs and started licking her pussy from bottom to top, wetting my tongue each time. I wrapped my lips around her clitoris and gently sucked, rolling my tongue in small circles. I took her hands, which were at her sides, and placed them on the back of my head. She started bucking softly against my lips.

I flipped her over onto her stomach and pulled her body up so that she was sitting on all fours. She struck the right pose, arching her back slightly so that her ass was tilted slightly upward. Her head was up and alert, directed towards the headboard. I wasn’t sure if her eyes were open or closed.

Knowing that she was on birth control, I started rubbing the head of my penis around the opening to her pussy. It didn’t look like it was going to fit without a bit of easing in. Her pussy was still extremely wet from my saliva, so as I pushed against her, my foreskin rolled back and the head of my penis began to move inside her. I pulled back slightly and then pushed against her once again, and her lips started to give way slightly and wrap around the first portion of my dick. She remained almost silent as this was happening, but I could hear her panting softly. I rolled the head of my dick in and out of my foreskin over and over, inching my way inside of her. I reached my hand under her and started to rub her clit back and forth, which made her pussy relax even more. After a few minutes going on like this, I was slowly rolling my dick back and forth inside her, with her lips wrapped tightly around the base of my shaft. At that moment, we were finally ready to fuck for real.

I wrapped my hands around her hips and started to thrust aggressively into her, pulling her onto the full length of my dick again and again. It felt like I was stuffing her pussy; the tip of my penis was rubbing against the back of her vagina, and I could feel the walls of vagina totally surrounding me, pushing from all sides. I grabbed her long hair in my hand, holding it at the base, and I pulled her toward me with each thrust. As soon as I grabbed her hair, she started verbalizing again:

“Yes…yes….yes….yes…,” was all she could get out, with each syllable hitting as I slapped against her ass. But then, she said, “Choke me, choke me.”

Wanting to be firm without hurting her, I started rubbing my hands around her thin neck, which was now arching up higher than before. I wrapped both hands around her upper neck and squeezed slightly as I continued to pound against her. Not meeting any resistance, I squeezed more tightly this time, applying moderate pressure. She made a small coughing, gagging sound.

“If you stay stop, I will stop,” I said. “Otherwise, I will keep going.”

“Don’t stop,” she said.

I squeezed harder this time, as if I was trying to squeeze all of the juice out of a lemon. Her arms collapsed under the weight of her body, and she buried her head against her pillow. I felt a twinge go through my body that told me that I needed to have an orgasm soon. With both hands still squeezing her neck, I perched on the balls of my feet so that I could fuck from a higher angle and push deeper inside of her pussy. Not caring all that much about whether she would orgasm or not, I pounded into her harder and harder in order to make myself finish. I was teetering on the edge of orgasm for about a minute.

“Squeeze my dick tighter,” I said. “Make me come now.” I immediately felt her seize up around me.

Then I could feel the sperm well up at the base of my dick, and I started to frantically buck against her. Even though I was totally in control, at that instant I knew that I was at her mercy and would do anything for her. I needed her to make me come.

I shot my load inside of her in six or seven bursts, squeezing her neck each time. Buried inside her, I paused for a moment. I felt a few beads of sweat roll down my back.

I pulled my hands off of her neck and heard her gasp for air and making a deep coughing/gagging sound. Her lips squeezed the base of my dick with each cough.

I pulled my dick out of her, and it flopped down between my legs. Feeling exhausted, I rolled onto my back and looked at the ceiling, not thinking about much of anything. I sensed her next to me, but she didn’t move to come closer. I reached toward her and pulled her onto me so that her head was resting on my chest. For a few minutes, we remained like that, not saying a word. Then, she started kissing and licking my chest and my nipples, lapping almost in the same way a cat drinks water. She rolled on top of me completely, using my chest as a pillow. I rested my hands on the back of her head, and I fell asleep in that pose.

When I woke up, it smelled like she had just made herself a coffee.

submitted by /u/unbouchon [link] [comments] Source: http://bit.ly/2iJys4g View Free Adult Stories Daily For More!

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fanfic end of the year asks

since it’s december, i thought i’d make a little end of the year ask meme for fanfic writers and readers! reblog and ask away

favorite fic you wrote this year

least favorite fic you wrote this year

favorite line/scene you wrote this year

total number of words you wrote this year

most popular fic this year

least popular fic this year

longest completed fic you wrote this year

shortest completed fic you wrote this year

longest wip of the year

shortest wip of the year

fandom you enjoyed writing for the most this year

favorite character to write about this year

favorite writing song/artist/album of this year

a fic you didn’t expect to write

something you learned this year

fic(s) you completed this year

fics you’ll continue next year

current number of wips

any new fics to start next year

number of comments you haven’t read

most memorable comment/review

events you participated in this year

fics you wanted to write but didn’t

favorite fic you read this year

a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read

number of favorites/bookmarks you made this year

favorite fanfic author of the year

longest fic you read this year

shortest fic you read this year

favorite fandom to read fic from this year

*feel free to specify fandoms or a fic depending on the question.

2022 Schedule

June 20 - July 4 — Author Signups

June 20 - July 20 — Artist Signups (open until all summaries claimed)

July 5 — Writing officially starts

July 15 - July 20 — First Check-in (ONLY Summaries Due) 

July 21 - July 25 — Artist Selection

July 26 — Author-Artist Pairings sent out

Aug 15 - Aug 20 — Second Author Check-in (4k minimum draft) / First Artist Check-in

Sep 15 - Sep 20 — Third Author Check-in/Second Artist Check-in

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