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#weather trivia
drewzeitlin · 2 months
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A Witty Forecast for Fun! We Challenge You to a Weather Quiz
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Step right up, folks! Are you ready to weather the storm of questions in our latest quiz extravaganza? It's time to put your meteorological mettle to the test with Weather Wonders Quiz Bonanza!
Listen up, weather wizards! We've rustled up 10 brain-teasing questions that'll have you reaching for your raincoat and umbrella in no time. But before we get into the nitty-gritty, here's a little teaser to get those weather wheels turning: What weather instrument measures wind speed? Think you've got the answer? Well, you'll just have to take the quiz to find out!
Whether you're a seasoned storm chaser or just a fair-weather friend, this quiz is sure to blow you away. From cumulus clouds to cold fronts, we're covering it all. And don't worry, folks, there won't be any rain on this parade - just plenty of fun and excitement!
But wait, there's more! If you can brave the elements and answer at least 6 out of the 10 questions correctly, you'll be rewarded with a prestigious certificate of achievement. It's a badge of honor that'll have you strutting your stuff like a true weather wiz!
And that's not all, folks! Stay tuned throughout the week for some fantastic free gifts that'll make even the sunniest day brighter. Just head on over to DrewZeitlin.blogspot.com to get in on the action.
So don't let this opportunity pass you by, friends. Join Weather Wonders Quiz Bonanza today and let the weather games begin! Click that link below and get ready to test your weather wits. Remember, folks, the forecast may be unpredictable, but with a little luck and a lot of laughs, you'll weather any storm that comes your way!
To play the game click FREE GAME you will be taken to our other site at DrewZeitlin.blogspot.com to start having some fun.
Good Luck
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unofskylanderspages · 2 months
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Did you know? During production for the scrapped 2017 Skylanders game by Vicarious Visions, Hex, Spyro, Stealth Elf, Tree Rex and Ninjini were redesigned to be older and have new outfits.
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thatsbelievable · 1 year
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everynendo · 3 months
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146 Nendoroid Haru-chan
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perfsonal · 1 year
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trivia night outfit
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starlitfunkster · 6 months
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Fuck you.
*Trivia Crack's your Triviatopia OCs*
...In case you couldn't tell, Hana's now the only girl. Michaela and Perdita's names were changed to fit in line with the main Trivia Crack cast.
Their names are Michael and Percy in this verse.
Ironically these all look pretty accurate, especially Alyx.
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rkasa · 2 years
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Hey, while I’m at it, have another Nendoroid Playset photo, also from yesterday! This one is more of a snapshot than the previous pic.
MFC link
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omegasmileyface · 9 months
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I WANNA MAKE AMITY PARK COMMUNITY RADIO REAL SO BADDDDDD but can you imagine how much work it would be.
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waffled0g · 1 year
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Everyone gets “The 90s” look wrong and I hate it
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Couple years ago I saw these two board games at the store back to back. Well, not saw them per se, but ya know. Spied them out of the corner of my eye. And for a moment without reading the text, I couldn’t tell you which was which decade at first. Funny. Either they were in a rush to get these out the door or they wanted their throwback trivia game boxes to look uniform. I didn’t think too much of it.
Only, from then on I started seeing it MORE. Every time someone markets a 90s or 80s throwback...
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Goddammit they’re identical! What??! How did we let this happen? As a 90s survivor and a designer, this drives me up a wall.
Look, I know I’m late to the party to complain about “the 90s look” when we’re just starting to get sick of the Y2K nostalgia train. But c’mon, the 90s were not The 80s: Part Two™ 
Trust me when I say that we weren’t all wearing neon trapezoids up until the year 2000. The 90s look being peddled is so specific to the tail end of the 80s and an early early part of the 90s - a part of the 90s when it wouldn’t stop being the 80s. This is Memphis design being conflated with the wrong decade.
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Keep reading for a long ass graphic design history lesson and pictures of old soda and fast food.
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Specifically, the look is Memphis Milano, self-named by the Italian design house Memphis Group. Starting in the early to mid 80s, they made all sorts of furniture, fabrics and sculptures that were like a Piet Mondrian grid painting under heavy radiation. Their whole deal was defying the standards of existing industrial design up to that point on purpose. Chairs had weird arches, bookcases would be in strange alien colors, unusual materials like plastic or elastic were used in place of metal or wood, that sorta thing.
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Memphis quickly became the signature look for the decade. You can tell something’s influenced by Memphis design from it’s telltale trademarks:
Clashing, neon colors.
Use of diametric shapes.
Contrasting patterns like zebra print stripes, confetti squiggles and checkerboards.
It wasn’t long before Memphis Milano-inspired design was everywhere in 80s pop culture:
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It was a special time, yes.
I was a kindergartener at the tail end of the 80s, so I knew Memphis mostly through the lens of kids media. Toys, clothes, games, tv shows used it like candy colored catnip. Cable channel Nickelodeon more or less adopted the Memphis aesthetic as their signature in-house style and practically built a monument to it at a Florida theme park:
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I think this is why folks mistake what decade Memphis is representative of - 90s staples like Nick, Saved By The Bell, Fresh Prince - they all stayed around much longer than the design trend’s expiration date. 
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Couple that notion with the fact that companies are slow followers to design trends. Something gets popular and they want to get on the bandwagon? Gotta wait for the ink to dry, gotta wait for the production molds to be made. It would take a few years for them to completely work Memphis outta their system.
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Now, this is not to say Memphis is bad! Personally I’m a fan of the aesthetic, if my neon-drenched artwork wasn’t a tip-off already. But it is a trend, and trends never last forever.
So what took the Memphis Milano look down for good? This part’s up for debate, but I personally think it had something to do with this dude:
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It’s that grunge music from Seattle that’s so popular with the kids these days dontchaknow.
Once Smells Like Teen Spirit hit in 1991, the Nirvana tone drove the rest of the decade. Clean geometry became weathered, grainy and organic. Bright neon pastels became more bold. Bubblegum pop music sounded fake and manufactured. Attitude and apathy was authentic. Whatever.
Things got grungy. Things got grimy. Olestra was invented.
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I think the best way to visualize this transition is how Cherry Coke entered the decade and how it left it:
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1992 Memphis on the left, 1998 grunge junkie on the right. Fitting that the 90s would end with a design that looked like Darth Maul’s lungs.
Okay, so what should 90s retro design look like?
Continue on to PART TWO! Spoilers: No VHS filters or vaporwave needed, but maybe bring an antacid.
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juliehowlin · 10 months
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Hail
In the Middle Ages, church bells would be rung in an attempt to prevent hail and preserve the crops.
10 thngs you might not know about hail:
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fuzzysparrow · 1 year
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Dr. Johnson, an 18th century writer, said, "When two Englishmen meet, their first talk is of..." what?
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On 24th June 1758, Dr. Samuel Johnson wrote in 'The Idler', “It is commonly observed, that when two Englishmen meet, their first talk is of the weather; they are in haste to tell each other, what each must already know, that it is hot or cold, bright or cloudy, windy or calm.”
Johnson (1709-1784) was a writer who became famous for publishing a famous dictionary. After the publication, he was given a doctorate, which is why he is often called "Dr. Johnson". He also said a lot of witty, amusing things, which are still remembered today, such as the above quote.
Unlike conventional dictionaries, which stick to factual definitions, Johnsons's 'Dictionary of the English Language' contained several subjective entries. For example, Johnson, who hated the Scottish, describe the word "oat" as "a food given in England to horses and in Scotland to men". Similarly, he disliked opera, which he defined as "an exotic and irrational entertainment".
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texscan · 1 year
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unofskylanderspages · 13 days
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Did you know? Hex is one of the few Undead Skylanders to have no skeletal features.
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thatsbelievable · 2 years
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proxima-writes · 1 year
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title: toyin’ with them older guys
pairing: bartender!joel miller/female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
chapters: 1/1
read on ao3 | masterlist
summary:
Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder.
But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation.
Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.
author’s note: thank you to everyone who hyped me up to post this when i wasn’t sure how i felt about it. your comments mean the world 💕
content warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), alternate universe - no cordyceps outbreak, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, alcohol references/consumption, possessive behavior, jealousy, mild violence (in the form of Joel kicking someone out of his bar), brief reference to Sarah’s mom and divorce, tinder dates, bribery, dirty talk, begging, pet names, praise kink, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), spanking. let me know if i’ve missed anything!
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There’s a bar near the university that you love to go to for multiple reasons.
For one, they have great drinks. For two, their loaded tater tots are the best drunk food you’ve ever had the pleasure of consuming.
But the number one reason, above all else, is the grumpy bartender and owner, Joel Miller.
The first time you saw him, he was challenging a kid with a fake ID, his arms crossed over his broad chest, emphasizing the strain of his flannel over his biceps. When the kid tried to take a swing at him, he grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back before marching him out of the bar and kicking him to the curb.
Your friend had to remind you to breathe.
He hosts a trivia night at the bar on Tuesday nights, the perfect excuse to see the man weekly. You sit at the bar each time, scribbling your answers on the notepad as you sip on a vodka cranberry and sneak glances at the older man while he works.
One night, you were struggling to answer a question about where the Lord of the Rings trilogy was filmed when Joel leaned across the bar, bringing his lips close to your ear to say, “New Zealand.”
You’d gotten the point, thanks to him. And from that day forward, he’d linger near your corner of the bar, watching to see if you needed help with an answer. Eventually, you started showing up earlier and earlier for trivia night, just for the chance to talk to him.
You told him about your PhD program and the research you were conducting. You wanted to be a psychologist, but for now you’re just a perpetual student. You miss winter weather in Colorado, but appreciate not having to store a giant jacket anywhere in your small apartment. Your favorite season is fall, and your favorite holiday is Halloween.
He tells you about buying the bar a few years ago, after his divorce from Sarah’s mom and ensuing custody battle had been finalized, an investment he made with his brother Tommy. They’d fixed it up themselves and made it a popular local spot. His favorite movie is Indiana Jones and he prefers whiskey over any other drink.
It’s no surprise that along the way you’d fallen in love with the man.
Too bad he’d never feel the same.
————
Joel remembers the first night he saw you. Your rosy cheeks and tipsy smile as you leaned forward to say, “Vodka cranberry, please. With lime .”
“Lime, huh?” He remembers saying. You nodded your head vigorously.
“The lime is the best part,” you insisted. He chuckled.
“Not the vodka?”
“Gross, no.”
He tossed in three lime slices and you shimmied your shoulders with glee.
You come into the bar, alone, for trivia night on Tuesdays now. You’re a fountain of random facts, but every once in a while he’ll feed you an answer to help you out because he likes the smile that you give him in return.
He has no right to be looking at you the way that he finds himself doing every week. Eyes wandering to the way your jeans hug your ass or drifting to your cleavage when you rest your elbows against the bar.
But between the conversations and the trivia and the sweet smiles, he’d gone and fallen in love.
Which is why when you come to trivia night with a man who wraps an arm around your waist, Joel loses his goddamn mind and does the stupidest thing ever.
You get up to go to the bathroom and Joel leans across the bar to address the guy, keeping his eyes on the bathroom.
“I’ll give you $100 if you leave right now,” Joel says.
“What?”
“Hundred bucks if you walk out that door and don’t talk to that girl again,” he says again. He digs his wallet from his pants and pulls a bill out, setting it on the bar top.
Without further question, the man grabs the money and stuffs it in his pocket as he heads out the door. Joel feels a flash of guilt when you return from the bathroom and look around for your missing date.
“Said he had an emergency,” Joel lies. He’s surprised when you look relieved.
“He was kind of boring, anyways,” you shrug, dragging your notepad and pen closer to you. “He probably would have just dragged us down.”
Us, Joel thinks.
He could get used to that.
________
Your friend, Marie, had convinced you to try out Tinder. She was absolutely certain you were missing out on the love of your life by not swiping mindlessly through profiles that held no interest to you.
You weren’t about to confess your unrequited love for the local bartender to get her off your case, so that’s how you ended up on a date with Michael. He was a law student and liked kayaking and hiking.
You liked neither of those things, but he had curly brown hair and you had a type, so why not give it a shot?
You didn’t have it in you to be too upset when you returned from the bathroom only to find out from Joel that Michael had left. Joel slid you another vodka cranberry with lime and your night went as it always did.
When Marie asked you the next morning how the date went and you told her he bailed, she insisted on picking your next one. She chose Scott, a financial analyst at a local bank.
You’re starting to think Marie doesn’t know you very well.
Regardless, you show up at the bar for another trivia night date. Scott is tall and lean, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he wore a suit to a bar. When you comment on it, he pulls a face and says he came straight from work.
“Not all of us are lucky enough to not have real jobs,” he says. You blink at him, surprised by the hostility.
That hostility continues when Joel approaches the two of you at the bar, lips turned down in a scowl, and Scott decides to order for you.
“She’ll take a vodka water with lemon and I’ll have Bulleit, neat.”
Joel raises his eyebrows at Scott, his eyes flicking to you briefly, before he sets a plastic cup on the bar top. He holds Michael’s gaze as he pours a shot of vodka into your cup, before using the soda gun to dispense cranberry juice. You have to bite back your smile.
“Vodka cranberry with lime,” he says, sliding you your drink. “And your whiskey will be right out.”
“That’s not what I ordered,” Scott replies.
“Yeah, but it’s what she would’ve.”
Scott sputters, face going an alarming shade of red with his indignation.
“I’ll be right back,” you mutter, taking your drink with you as you head to the bathroom.
________
“I’m not paying for that drink,” the blonde asshole says, knocking his knuckles against the bar for emphasis. Joel huffs a laugh.
“I don’t give a shit, kid. I want you out of my bar,” he says, planting both hands on the wood.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Get the fuck out of my bar.”
“I’m on a date!”
“Not anymore.” Joel rounds the bar and gets up in the little weasel’s face. “Get. Out.”
The boy’s eyes go wide, like he realizes that maybe Joel isn’t playing around. He scrambles from his barstool, standing to his full height like he’s about to challenge Joel.
“You can’t kick me out, old man,” the blonde snaps.
Joel’s had enough. He fists a hand in the starched white shirt collar, driving him back towards the exit. The other patrons move out of the way, some whistling and cheering Joel on. He shoves the man out the door and looks at the doorman.
“He doesn’t come back inside,” he says. “And you? Don’t ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”
Joel returns to the bar as you’re walking up. For a moment, he worries that you may have seen him acting like a caveman getting rid of his competition, but you look around in confusion.
“Where’s Scott?” You ask.
“He forgot about somethin’ at work,” Joel says. Your brow furrows.
“Kinda weird that’s happened to me twice now,” you comment.
Joel just shrugs.
________
You don’t tell Joel about how you saw him throw Scott out of his bar that night.
You’d just left the bathroom when you saw Joel stomp out from behind the bar, his eyes dark and fixed on your date. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but based on the affronted way Scott was responding, it wasn’t anything good.
You crept closer to the scene, but stayed amongst the crowd. Joel marched Scott backwards with a fist tangled in his collar, shoving him out the door.
“And you? Don’t you ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”
Your mouth went dry at his words and your mind reeled at the implications. Was he doing this from a place of friendship? Or…could he maybe feel the same way you do?
Only one way to find out.
You call up Travis, a good friend from undergrad who still lived in town.
“Trav, I need your help,” you say when he answers the phone.
“Burying a body type of help or financial type of help?” He replies easily.
“Actually, more experimental.”
“I don’t swing that way.”
“No, listen to me, I have a hypothesis,” you insist, explaining the situation to him. How you’ve been on two dates at Joel’s bar but each time, the men have left without another word. And how after what you witnessed, you’re inclined to believe that it’s not a coincidence.
You ask Travis to come with you to the next trivia night. All he needs to do is pretend to be there on a date with you. A bit of hand holding, maybe an arm around the waist. Nothing more.
“But what if he tries to threaten my life?” Travis asks.
“Well…I mean…every experiment has risks,” you reply flippantly. He sputters indignantly down the line. “I’ll buy you your drinks and get you tater tots.”
He’s silent for a moment before responding, “Fine. Extra jalapeños and I’m not getting well liquor.”
“Thank you!”
________
You come into his bar with another man. His arm is draped over your shoulders as you approach the bar and Joel has to set the glass he’s drying down before it shatters in his hands.
“Joel! This is Travis,” you say, gesturing to your date. He forces a smile, reaching a hand across the bar to shake his hand.
“What can I get started for you?” Joel asks. The man, Travis, orders an old-fashioned with top shelf whiskey, while you request your regular.
“I’ll be right back,” you say as Joel is pouring the drinks. You weave through the crowd towards the bathrooms and Joel leans in to address Travis.
“I’ll pay you $100 to leave this date,” Joel says.
Travis smirks. “Make it $200.”
“Are you serious?”
“That depends, are you?”
Joel’s eyes flick towards the back of the bar and he reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He pulls out four fifties, dropping them on the bar.
Travis pockets the money before adding, “You know, there’s cheaper ways to get the girl.”
“Get out,” Joel grunts. The younger man laughs his way to the door, and you appear at the bar a moment later.
“Where’d Travis go?” You ask.
“Oh, he—“
“Can I get an order of the loaded tots?” Travis asks, cutting Joel off from making up an excuse for his absence and sitting back down on the stool beside you with a shit eating grin. “She owes me.”
“Owes you?” Joel asks through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, she lost a bet. I told her I could get the number of that guy over there in less than three minutes and she doubted my charm.”
“Travis and I went to undergrad together,” you explain. “We just wanted to hang out and catch up.”
Shit.
________
Travis decides to leave after two plates of loaded tots and one too many drinks. You help him call an Uber, but you stay behind as the bar starts to clear out.
It’s just Joel behind the bar, wiping down the wood and setting bottles back to their rightful spots as you sip from a cup of water. The kitchen has closed down and the music has been shut off, leaving the two of you in loaded silence.
“So…,” you say, twirling your straw in your near empty cup. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”
Joel’s shoulders go tense before he releases a deep sigh, turning to face you. The bar separates you, and it feels like miles of distance when all you want to do is get your hands on him now that your hypothesis has been proven.
Joel Miller likes you. And he’s been sabotaging your dates because of it. Perhaps you should be more upset, but all you can feel is an effervescent giddiness bubbling in your veins.
While he struggles to find the words, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You reach across the bar, hooking your fingers into the collar of his t-shirt and tugging him forward. You lean over to meet him halfway, pressing your lips to his.
You pull back and look into his eyes. The coffee colored brown of his irises seems darker, his eyes half lidded as he looks at you.
“You wanna get out of here?” He asks.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
________
Joel’s got one hand on the wheel of the truck and the other resting on your thigh. He has to keep a hand on you because he’s worried that if he doesn’t anchor himself, he’ll wake up from this dream.
You kissed him. You reached across the bar and dragged his lips to yours in a way he’d only dreamed of doing a thousand times since you’d sauntered into his life.
He can’t help the small smile that tilts his lips up at the thought.
“What’s got you smiling over there?” You ask, your voice teasing. He glances at you.
“You do, darlin’,” he says. He relishes in the pink that blooms across your cheeks at the pet name.
Joel drives to his house, parking the truck in the driveway of his little bungalow. His bachelor pad, as Tommy calls it.
Maybe not for much longer.
He circles the truck to open the door for you, helping you down from the cab. He keeps his hand on your low back as he leads you up the porch steps and through the door.
You toe off your shoes in the entryway, letting them join the pair of sneakers Joel left by the door. You’re wearing a pair of socks with tiny cats printed on them, the sight so endearing to him he can’t hold back his laugh.
“What?” You ask.
“Nothin’, just…like the look of you here. In my house,” he says.
“Yeah?” You take a step closer to him, toe to toe as you look up at him through your lashes.
“Yeah,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging your body against his. The heat of you even through the layers of your clothes sends a shiver down his spine.
You press your hands to his chest, sliding them up and over his shoulders before linking them behind his neck.
“You gonna give me a real kiss?” You whisper back. Your lips are so tantalizingly close that they ghost across his as you speak.
He closes the distance, lips dancing with yours as he kisses you senseless. The feel of you against him, moving with him, sends sparks skittering across his skin. He’s unable to hold still, hands roaming from your back to your waist to your hips as your mouths part and your tongues tangle with increased desperation.
Joel slides his hands to the backs of your thighs, crouching slightly to lift you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your core slides against his growing hardness and he groans at the sensation as you let out the neediest whimper.
He wants to hear more.
He walks you both through the empty house until he reaches his bedroom, tossing you on top of sheets still rumpled from last night’s sleep. You scramble to sit up on your knees, moving to the edge of the bed and curling your fingers into the waist of his jeans.
“Can I suck your cock, Joel?” You ask, voice all breathy as you stare up at him with your big doe eyes. “Please?”
Joel’s mouth has gone bone dry. “Yeah? You want my cock in that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart?”
You nod your head, fingers working on the buckle of his belt. His hands work in tandem with yours to get his fly open, shoving the denim down his thighs until he can step out of them. His cock tents his boxers, a wet spot already apparent on the fabric and he watches as you reach a hand out to stroke him, a groan escaping him at the feel of your warm palm against him.
“Take your clothes off and get on your knees,” Joel commands. He lifts his own shirt over his head as you unbutton and remove your pants, shimmying the tight fabric down your legs. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed as he watches you lift your shirt up and off.
His eyes rove your body hungrily. Your perfect tits and gorgeous curves, the way you flush beneath his gaze.
“Come here, baby,” he says, crooking a finger. You come to stand between his legs and he reaches around your back, unhooking your bra with deft fingers.
“You’re rather skilled at that, Mr. Miller,” you tease.
“I’m old, not dead.” He slips the straps from your shoulders, tugging the last barrier between him and your tits away. “God, baby, these all for me?”
“Mhm,” you him as he wraps his hand around the weight of one breast, thumb teasing your pert nipple.
“Tell me somethin’,” Joel asks, “why’d you bring all those boys around when you knew you needed a man?”
You lick your lips. “Didn’t know if the only man I wanted would want me back.”
Your voice is small and vulnerable as you say it, and that just won’t do. “Don’t just want you, baby. Need you.”
Your face lights up in the brightest grin. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, baby. Need you so fuckin’ bad,” he tells you, digging his fingers into your hips. “S’why I had to play dirty.”
Your smile turns downright salacious. You drop to your knees, running your hands up his thighs. “Show me how much you need me, Joel.”
________
Joel shoves his boxers down, exposing his cock to your hungry gaze. It’s gorgeously thick, the head a dark red from his arousal, a pearl of precum sitting in the slit. You lean forward and dart your tongue out to gather it.
“Don’t tease, sweetheart,” Joel says through gritted teeth. You keep your eyes fixed to his as you take him in hand, swirling your tongue over the sensitive head before taking him further into your mouth.
His hand is instantly in your hair. Not pressing, but his fingers tangle in the strands and tug deliciously against your scalp. He moans as you take him as far back into your throat as you can manage.
“Fuck, your mouth is better than I ever dreamed,” he says, voice rough.
“You’ve thought about this?” You ask when you draw back for breath, hand pumping his length in place of your mouth.
“‘Course, baby. These pretty lips wrapped around me, beggin’ for me to make them all swollen and used,” he says, standing and bringing a thumb to your lips and swiping it across their spit slick surface. “Open up.”
He uses his thumb to press against your bottom lip, opening your mouth as he takes his cock in hand and feeds it slowly between your lips. The smooth, hot length of him dragging across your tongue makes you moan.
“You like that, baby?” He growls, pumping his hips in shallow thrusts. “Like me usin’ your mouth how I want?”
You try to nod, your movement restricted by the grip of his hand that’s returned to your hair. There’s spit trailing down your chin and tears gathering in the corners of your eyes from the effort of keeping your mouth open for his thick length. You know you must look like a mess but with Joel staring down at you with his lust drunk expression, you feel on top of the world.
“I gotta fuck you, baby, will you let me, huh? Let me feel that pretty little cunt strangle my cock?”
You hum around his length and he withdraws, tugging you up by your hair and pulling you into the dirtiest kiss, all tongue and teeth and blatant desire as he turns your bodies, shoving you down onto the bed.
Joel slips an arm beneath your low back, using it to pull you up the bed as he crawls on to join you. He positions himself between your legs, tearing the soaked fabric of your panties down in a frenzy.
He slides his fingers through your wetness before bringing them to his lips, sucking them into his mouth with a groan.
“Christ, I’m gonna feast on you for hours, baby, but I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says.
“Then fuck me, Joel, please,” you beg, lifting your hips so that his cock slips through your center. “Come on, wanna feel you.”
He lines himself up, pressing into you with a delicious stretch, the slight sting of it making you whine. He shushes you, not stopping until his hips press against the back of your thighs.
“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ my cock like you were made for it,” he says, leaning forward to kiss you, the shift in angle making him go impossibly deeper. “Tell me when I can move, sweetheart.”
You shift your hips restlessly beneath him. “Please move, Joel, wanna feel it.”
Joel pulls back before slamming forward, the force of it making you slide up the bed as all the air leaves your lungs in a whoosh. His grin is sharp as he does it again and again to the tune of your desperate cries.
“Joel!” You cry, clawing at his back with each thrust. “Fuck, yes, yes!”
He withdraws abruptly, the loss of him as you clench around nothing making you whine pathetically. With a bruising grip on your hips, he twists your body until you’re on your belly, ass in the air and chest pressed to the mattress.
Joel slides back inside your tight heat, a palm slapping across one cheek then the other as he resumes his powerful thrusts.
“Fuck, darlin’, you’re so goddamn tight,” he growls. A hand presses to the back of your neck for leverage, changing the angle yet again. “Can you cum for me? Can you soak my fuckin’ cock, baby, I bet you can.”
You nod, the movement restricted, but you can’t form words. All you know is the feeling of Joel pounding into your body like he owns it.
The hand on your hips moves to the front of your body, fingers finding and pinching your clit. You sob against the mattress, the sheets wet beneath you from tears and drool.
“Come on, baby, fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls. “Won’t fill ya up until you do.”
That’s the visual that does it. The thought of Joel finishing with you, inside of you, dripping out of you too much for your lust addled brain. With a shout, the thin remnant of your control snaps and you pulse around him.
“Fuck yes, that’s it, sweetheart, good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, his hand leaving your neck as he sits up, his tempo fast and sloppy as he chases his release through yours. “You want me to cum in this tight little cunt, honey.”
“Yes, please,” you manage to slur, muffled by the sheets. With three more harsh thrusts, he does as promised, spilling inside of you with a shout.
He slows before withdrawing, your body collapsing against the mattress without him there to hold you up. He chuckles as he flops beside you, dragging you into the cradle of his body.
“You done playin’ games with those boys?” He asks, smiling smugly against your neck.
“Yeah, think I might be into older guys,” you tease. He pinches your hip, making you laugh.
“See if I ever help you during trivia again.”
________
Joel’s standing in front of you, arms crossed with a scowl on his face as you stare up at him with pleading eyes.
“Come on, baby, help me out,” you ask sweetly, batting your eyelashes.
“Last call for an answer to our final question! What is the only song credited to all five original members of the band Fleetwood Mac?”
Joel sighs, biting back his smile. “The Chain,” he tells you. You scribble the answer, running your paper up to the emcee. When you return to the bar, you lean across the polished surface and tug him towards you, planting a kiss to his lips.
He drags you back for another kiss. And another.
“Anytime, darlin’.”
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