#CARDIOMYAPATHY. dr. kelly anderson. cardiothoracic surgeon oc. est 2018. an outsourced ‘autobiography’ on daily bouts of ego-centric arrogance, mommy issues while being someone's coping mechanism for their daddy issues, full blown rage turned to court-mandated anger management therapy, and breaking down nurtured hypermasculinity. ghostwritten by LANE. ( 29, they/them. )
* mutuals only. 21+ as nsfw present, as well as topics such as : medical procedures, gore, addiction, drugs, alcoholism, and titties.
CARRD. HEADCANONS. FC. MEMES. NSFW.
Momma always wanted a little girl to dress up and show off like a little porcelain doll. Instead, she got a deadbeat and a little boy that wanted nothing more than to eat mud off a stick. Still, she did her darnedest to work with what she got and had him dolled up anyway. Little Kelly Anderson. Years of playing dress up and some emotional trauma later, Momma met a new man with three free daughters included. Two had outgrown the girly frills, but one was younger than her own son and soon he was discarded to the side and his step-sister was the new object of her affection. THANK FUCKING GOD.
– with a temper and mommy issues that have gotten him into far more shit than if he just went to therapy, but man oh man, there was no way he was going to pay to sit around and talk about his feelings. Instead, he uses the ridiculous amount of money he’d acquired to hire lawyers to keep it all on the DL. Being a surgeon was a great way to harness all of that overflowing ego-centricism bubbling within him and using it for G O O D ; saving lives to make up for his own personality, enabling that G O D C O M P L E X of his, and making bank. Rich and not afraid to flaunt it, Kelly hides behind his charisma, money and attitude to irresponsibly live his life to the fullest. Fast cars, multiple properties, and yearly rehab stints in foreign countries where nobody in his circle would hear a word of his anger management treatments. Or attempts at sobriety.
In recent years, he's toned down the attempts at self sabotage and put his money towards opening his own clinic. He'll often step in at the hospital to perform surgeries, but he's his own boss now and with that comes a whole other can of worms.
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"hey kelly, i heard another rumour." there's no rumour, she's just playing with him. "apparently you're completely in love and obsessed with me." a giggle. "oh, and we're getting married."
" who is spreading these ' RUMORS ' ? is it just ... a certain paramedic spreading the word? "
OPEN STARTER. / listen. the potential? endless. small talk? sincere curiosity? fond exasperation? horror? anger? stunned shock? irritation? disbelief? ENDLESS i tells ya.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
you ever just wanna eat it so bad that even the thought of her hips in your hands and your thumbs in the creases of her upper thighs like where they meet her hips makes you wanna white boy punch a wall
@cardiomyapathy sent: [ encore ] for sender to initiate consensual sex the moment they're alone with receiver after receiver intentionally spent the last hour teasing sender in public where they could not react.
perks of being a rich middle aged white guy includes having middle aged white guy friends, apparently. someone gifted kelly tickets to this game, box seats and everything. nealie was well enough entertained, watching the game alongside him and basking in his happiness, if nothing else. call her what you want, but it did something to watch him get dumbly amped up. the fist through the air, the veins on flexed bicep, the manic look in his eye... HOT.
it gets her thinking, but she doesn't want to steal him from this beautiful masculine bonding moment with all his buddies. thankfully, she brought the paint marker she used earlier to draw hearts on her cheeks in the colors of kelly's team. which is why while the big game-making stuff is going down, nealie's taking the chance to draw on herself. people are hugging— guess someone scored, huh?— and she goes, "pssst," with a smile.
"look!!" as if she spied a pretty butterfly perched on the window. nope, she's giving one last scan of the room to make sure no one else is looking and then hiking up her jersey. perky little stress balls revealed and "DADDY'S" in paint low on her stomach, a bit crooked and rushed but a heartwarming effort. nealie hopes she'll remember the look kelly gives her for the rest of her life. unfortunately for him, the game isn't over and while he waits for escape, she's squeezing his arm, sneaking a kiss to his shoulder, apparently only able to keep her hands to herself when they're both tucked between her thighs.
it's some time before he's able to take her, firm grip on her wrist, to the nearest family bathroom and push her through the door. her face is shoved into the tiled wall which is thankfully not too disgusting. she's done grosser for less. he hikes up her tennis skirt and makes quick work of pulling aside her pink panties with strawberries stamped across them. his grip on her hips makes her yelp.
"ah! ow— fuck—" her whimpering has been answered with a fist in her hair and her back arches. she's spreading her legs with a squeal so he can better rut against her ass. ready to bear whatever punishment he'll greedily dole out, she savors the rub of grout against her cheek. the ghost of a relieved smile is offered over her shoulder, trained like a dog at the clink of his belt. his heavy breathing is music to her ears, the head of his cock nudged up to her entrance drawing a happy moan.
His eyes go straight to her tits, adrenaline draining and quickly replaced with lust, then lower, the words she scrawled across her stomach, just where the tip of his cock would reach. He glances over his shoulder to see if anyone else was seeing this shit, but thankfully they were busy celebrating the win with each other. Kelly motions with his hand for her to put her damn shirt down, but the bulge in his jeans was a dead giveaway that her little plan had worked. Cheeky. Sad thoughts don't bring the bump down, so he just takes Nealie's hand and puts it on his lap, holding it with his own to mask the erection under the denim.
Once they were in the privacy of their own little bathroom, he lets go of the chill guy charade. Drunk off of too many beers and the adrenaline of sport, he rocks against her ass roughly and kisses up her neck.
" LOVE IT. " he groans into her ear, rutting sloppily against her entrance until he slides inside her. " You're such a tease. God, you know how much you make me ... " he kisses her cheek, the clean one, and slams into her hard enough that her chest flattens against the tiles. " So hard. "
He pinches her cute little ass and holds her throat, fingers pressing against her vocal box. " You're my girl? Daddy's girl? "his other hand creeps under the jersey that hangs off her shoulders like a cape and gropes her chest – HARD. he massages her breasts, pinching her nipples to make her squeak.
