May 16
Hey I have to step out for a bit, can you look after my shrimp for me?
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Hey I have to step out for a bit, can you look after my shrimp for me?
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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shane getting really drunk and calling ilya daddy and then getting hard about it and then crying about it bc he’s embarrassed 😍 all while ilya is recording it 😍
tw nsfw, louie is HORNYposting again omg
Listen. That tone that Coyle used in the teaser got me so fucked up, like I'm so fucking gay rn
Imagine just waking up beside him & hearing his morning voice. Coyle is touching you on your thighs, & he knows how much you love how deep his voice can go. It makes your whole body purr in excitement. Like you're throbbing just by his voice.
However, you have to get ready for work, & you're whining because you honestly need his cock inside of you, & he can tell by the way your ass is grinding up against his dick. You're hoping for at least a quickie before getting up & ready for work.
The problem is that Coyle isn't giving in.
"Uh-uh, honeybun. We ain't got time for all that." Coyle says teasingly. He knows exactly what he's doing. "Ya need to get ready fer work. Can't get you in trouble fer havin' too much fun."
You whine even more as you rub your thighs together. "I know, I know, sweetheart." Coyle leans in to kiss your shoulder. "Once ya come back, you can bounce on this hard cock all you want. You can hold it in, right, baby? I know you can, sweetness. I know you can be good fer me."
Rest assured, that is a promise that the both of you can keep.
“Fanart” of an unidentified pin I’ve had for a few years.
No manufacturing print on it, no visual matches via reverse image searches, nothing. Just a pin.
Well, now it's Pi Day and I wish I had thought of this earlier in the week.
Come To My Window
Dunk x Female Reader
(or featuring one of my OCs) a fluffy with some elements of smut one-shot, where she is inspired to make a mouthwatering, sweet berry pie, setting it on her windowsill to cool. Dunk and Egg haven't smelled something that sweet in ages, and the temptation is strong to sample it. Just one slice each, dear lady...please?
She gets one look at the tall, tall drink of water at her window and is more than willing to let him have the whole...mmmmm...damn pie.
(Look, these boys are hungry, and I'd dearly love to feed them today. With no promises, because my writer's block hovers like a shadow at my back, but if you send me questions, it might help me fashion something *hums low in my throat* toothsome.)
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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One of my few friends in the rock ’n’roll world is Paul McCartney, who I met through Ken [Russell] very early on. Ken always used unusual people in his films, people who weren’t trained actors, like Christopher Gable who was a principal with the Royal Ballet until Ken cast him in Song Of Summer. And he had come up with something he thought he could do with me. It was from a William Faulkner story called The Wishing Tree about a magician and a young girl and he wanted Paul to do the music, so he arranged for us all to meet over lunch. I was completely beside myself. I was still only seventeen and the Beatles were at the height of their fame. They were the biggest thing that had ever happened. Only four years before I’d been one of those screaming girls at Finsbury Park Astoria, the only time my Dad ever shouted at me, really shouted at me. Finsbury Park was a long way from Neasden and although Jennifer and I went on the train, Dad said he would pick us up. But after the show we’d gone through to the stage door, so I wasn’t where I'd said we’d be. So he just sat in the car out front waiting as these hysterical teenagers poured out, and getting frantic when he realised we weren’t there. When he finally found us, these simpering teenage girls all crying, he was so angry. It must have been so scary for him. Now I’m a parent myself I realise how frantic he must have been, and that his anger came out of fear.
So four years later and there I was about to have lunch with my idol. I was so nervous. Working with Avedon was nothing compared with lunch with Paul McCartney. All I kept thinking was I’ve got to behave properly. I can’t go gooey. I recognise it in [her daughter] Carly now. Having crushes on people is something everybody goes through. She’s had crushes on people who she’s eventually met through Leigh and me. Like Ben Elton who she’s always absolutely adored. By chance she had just finished reading one of his books when we invited him over for dinner. I suppose she must have been about fifteen. When he arrived I introduced her. She was her usual chatty, friendly self and didn’t show anything of what she was feeling, but half-way through talking to him she went down to her bedroom, screamed into a pillow and pinched herself just to make sure it was really happening and then came back, completely calm as before. When I told Ben that she was a fan, he was thrilled. The next day all his books arrived by special messenger signed ‘to Carly’. On television he can come across as quite caustic. But he’s not. He’s a gentle, nice man. And really talented, clever and funny.
Paul was the same to me that day. So kind. It seems stupid to call someone like Paul McCartney ordinary, but that’s what he is. Ordinary but extraordinary. Shortly after that meeting, the six of us arranged to have dinner. Paul was with Jane Asher in those days. We went to the White Tower, a very smart Greek restaurant, to talk more about the film and he just started thinking up songs while we were sitting there, tapping out tunes with a fork on wine glasses which he’d just filled up to various levels with water.
Twiggy in Black and White (1998)
WAIT WAIT He's the type of person to laugh when stressed isn't he!? It's like a coping/self soothing thing for him, AAAA
Okok umm.. he'd look sooo uncomfortable but he'd still be really giggly while you spread his legs. That type of laugh that's full of quick breaths and hiccups because he's trying so hard not to cryyy...
When he does start crying his laugh starts coming out in wheezes instead, with wet sobs occasionally in-between.
Don't even get me STARTED on him fucking cackling while getting beat up. He thinks it'll make him feel better, because it usually DOES help a little, but if your lungs/abdomen/throat are bruised it won't do much for you babe. It'll just make it sooo much worse <3