Look at him getting included and having a tea party
Honestly Caine being included and being happy with them, has been my dream since episode 3 and now WDYM IT'S CANON AAAAAA
For some reason the versions of this where he gives two salutes is being deleted and replaced with a version with a quick cut to a cheering crowd so I’ll just share it here 🙃
Look closely at the first two weeks of Donald Trump’s second term and you’ll see something very different than what he wants you to see.
The article is under the cut because paywalls suck
This is an edited transcript of an audio essay on “The Ezra Klein Show.” You can listen to the conversation by following or subscribing to the show on the NYT Audio App, Apple, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube, iHeartRadio or wherever you get your podcasts.
If you want to understand the first few weeks of the second Trump administration, you should listen to what Steve Bannon told PBS’s “Frontline” in 2019:
Steve Bannon: The opposition party is the media. And the media can only, because they’re dumb and they’re lazy, they can only focus on one thing at a time. …
All we have to do is flood the zone. Every day we hit them with three things. They’ll bite on one, and we’ll get all of our stuff done. Bang, bang, bang. These guys will never — will never be able to recover. But we’ve got to start with muzzle velocity. So it’s got to start, and it’s got to hammer, and it’s got to —
Michael Kirk: What was the word?
Bannon: Muzzle velocity.
Muzzle velocity. Bannon’s insight here is real. Focus is the fundamental substance of democracy. It is particularly the substance of opposition. People largely learn of what the government is doing through the media — be it mainstream media or social media. If you overwhelm the media — if you give it too many places it needs to look, all at once, if you keep it moving from one thing to the next — no coherent opposition can emerge. It is hard to even think coherently.
Donald Trump’s first two weeks in the White House have followed Bannon’s strategy like a script. The flood is the point. The overwhelm is the point. The message wasn’t in any one executive order or announcement. It was in the cumulative effect of all of them. The sense that this is Trump’s country now. This is his government now. It follows his will. It does what he wants. If Trump tells the state to stop spending money, the money stops. If he says that birthright citizenship is over, it’s over.
Or so he wants you to think. In Trump’s first term, we were told: Don’t normalize him. In his second, the task is different: Don’t believe him.
Trump knows the power of marketing. If you make people believe something is true, you make it likelier that it becomes true. Trump clawed his way back to great wealth by playing a fearsome billionaire on TV; he remade himself as a winner by refusing to admit he had ever lost. The American presidency is a limited office. But Trump has never wanted to be president, at least not as defined in Article II of the U.S. Constitution. He has always wanted to be king. His plan this time is to first play king on TV. If we believe he is already king, we will be likelier to let him govern as a king.
Don’t believe him. Trump has real powers — but they are the powers of the presidency. The pardon power is vast and unrestricted, and so he could pardon the Jan. 6 rioters. Federal security protection is under the discretion of the executive branch, and so he could remove it from Anthony Fauci and Mike Pompeo and John Bolton and Mark Milley and even Brian Hook, a largely unknown former State Department official under threat from Iran who donated time to Trump’s transition team. It was an act of astonishing cruelty and callousness from a man who nearly died by an assassin’s bullet — as much as anything ever has been, this, to me, was an X-ray of the smallness of Trump’s soul — but it was an act that was within his power.
But the president cannot rewrite the Constitution. Within days, the birthright citizenship order was frozen by a judge — a Reagan appointee — who told Trump’s lawyers, “I have difficulty understanding how a member of the bar would state unequivocally that this is a constitutional order. It just boggles my mind.” A judge froze the spending freeze before it was even scheduled to go into effect, and shortly thereafter, the Trump administration rescinded the order, in part to avoid the court case.
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What Bannon wanted — what the Trump administration wants — is to keep everything moving fast. Muzzle velocity, remember. If you’re always consumed by the next outrage, you can’t look closely at the last one. The impression of Trump’s power remains; the fact that he keeps stepping on rakes is missed. The projection of strength obscures the reality of weakness. Don’t believe him.
You could see this a few ways: Is Trump playing a part, making a bet or triggering a crisis? Those are the options. I am not certain he knows the answer. Trump has always been an improviser. But if you take it as calculated, here is the calculation: Perhaps this Supreme Court, stocked with his appointees, gives him powers no peacetime president has ever possessed. Perhaps all of this becomes legal now that he has asserted its legality. It is not impossible to imagine that bet paying off.
But Trump’s odds are bad. So what if the bet fails and his arrogations of power are soundly rejected by the courts? Then comes the question of constitutional crisis: Does he ignore the court’s ruling? To do that would be to attempt a coup. I wonder if they have the stomach for it. The withdrawal of the Office of Management and Budget’s order to freeze spending suggests they don’t. Bravado aside, Trump’s political capital is thin. Both in his first and second terms, he has entered office with approval ratings below that of any president in the modern era. Gallup has Trump’s approval rating at 47 percent — about 10 points beneath Joe Biden’s in January 2021.
There is a reason Trump is doing all of this through executive orders rather than submitting these same directives as legislation to pass through Congress. A more powerful executive could persuade Congress to eliminate the spending he opposes or reform the civil service to give himself the powers of hiring and firing that he seeks. To write these changes into legislation would make them more durable and allow him to argue their merits in a more strategic way. Even if Trump’s aim is to bring the civil service to heel — to rid it of his opponents and turn it to his own ends — he would be better off arguing that he is simply trying to bring the high-performance management culture of Silicon Valley to the federal government. You never want a power grab to look like a power grab.
But Republicans have a three-seat edge in the House and a 53-seat majority in the Senate. Trump has done nothing to reach out to Democrats. If Trump tried to pass this agenda as legislation, it would most likely fail in the House, and it would certainly die before the filibuster in the Senate. And that would make Trump look weak. Trump does not want to look weak. He remembers John McCain humiliating him in his first term by casting the deciding vote against Obamacare repeal.
That is the tension at the heart of Trump’s whole strategy: Trump is acting like a king because he is too weak to govern like a president. He is trying to substitute perception for reality. He is hoping that perception then becomes reality. That can only happen if we believe him.
The flurry of activity is meant to suggest the existence of a plan. The Trump team wants it known that they’re ready this time. They will control events rather than be controlled by them. The closer you look, the less true that seems. They are scrambling and flailing already. They are leaking against one another already. We’ve learned, already, that the O.M.B. directive was drafted, reportedly, without the input or oversight of key Trump officials — “it didn’t go through the proper approval process,” an administration official told The Washington Post. For this to be the process and product of a signature initiative in the second week of a president’s second term is embarrassing.
But it’s not just the O.M.B. directive. The Trump administration is waging an immediate war on the bureaucracy, trying to replace the “deep state” it believes hampered it in the first term. A big part of this project seems to have been outsourced to Elon Musk, who is bringing the tactics he used at Twitter to the federal government. He has longtime aides at the Office of Personnel Management, and the email sent to nearly all federal employees even reused the subject line of the email he sent to Twitter employees: “Fork in the Road.” Musk wants you to know it was him.
The email offers millions of civil servants a backdoor buyout: Agree to resign and in theory, at least, you can collect your paycheck and benefits until the end of September without doing any work. The Department of Government Efficiency account on X described it this way: “Take the vacation you always wanted, or just watch movies and chill, while receiving your full government pay and benefits.” The Washington Post reported that the email “blindsided” many in the Trump administration who would normally have consulted on a notice like that.
I suspect Musk thinks of the federal work force as a huge mass of woke ideologues. But most federal workers have very little to do with politics. About 16 percent of the federal work force is in health care. These are, for instance, nurses and doctors who work for the Veterans Affairs department. How many of them does Musk want to lose? What plans does the V.A. have for attracting and training their replacements? How quickly can he do it?
The Social Security Administration has more than 59,000 employees. Does Musk know which ones are essential to operations and unusually difficult to replace? One likely outcome of this scheme is that a lot of talented people who work in nonpolitical jobs and could make more elsewhere take the lengthy vacation and leave government services in tatters. Twitter worked poorly after Musk’s takeover, with more frequent outages and bugs, but its outages are not a national scandal. When V.A. health care degrades, it is. To have sprung this attack on the civil service so loudly and publicly and brazenly is to be assured of the blame if anything goes wrong.
What Trump wants you to see in all this activity is command. What is really in all this activity is chaos. They do not have some secret reservoir of focus and attention the rest of us do not. They have convinced themselves that speed and force is a strategy unto itself — that it is, in a sense, a replacement for a real strategy. Don’t believe them.
I had a conversation a couple months ago with someone who knows how the federal government works about as well as anyone alive. I asked him what would worry him most if he saw Trump doing it. What he told me is that he would worry most if Trump went slowly. If he began his term by doing things that made him more popular and made his opposition weaker and more confused. If he tried to build strength for the midterms while slowly expanding his powers and chipping away at the deep state where it was weakest.
But he didn’t. And so the opposition to Trump, which seemed so listless after the election, is beginning to rouse itself.
There is a subreddit for federal employees where one of the top posts reads: “This non ‘buyout’ really seems to have backfired. I’ll be honest, before that email went out, I was looking for any way to get out of this fresh hell. But now I am fired up to make these goons as frustrated as possible.” As I write this, it’s been upvoted more than 39,000 times and civil servant after civil servant is echoing the initial sentiment.
In Iowa this week, Democrats flipped a State Senate seat in a district that Trump won easily in 2024. The attempted spending freeze gave Democrats their voice back, as they zeroed in on the popular programs Trump had imperiled. Trump isn’t building support; he’s losing it. Trump isn’t fracturing his opposition; he’s uniting it.
This is the weakness of the strategy that Bannon proposed and Trump is following. It is a strategy that forces you into overreach. To keep the zone flooded, you have to keep acting, keep moving, keep creating new cycles of outrage or fear. You overwhelm yourself. And there’s only so much you can do through executive orders. Soon enough, you have to go beyond what you can actually do. And when you do that, you either trigger a constitutional crisis or you reveal your own weakness.
Trump may not see his own fork in the road coming. He may believe he has the power he is claiming. That would be a mistake on his part — a self-deception that could doom his presidency. But the real threat is if he persuades the rest of us to believe he has power he does not have.
The first two weeks of Trump’s presidency have not shown his strength. He is trying to overwhelm you. He is trying to keep you off-balance. He is trying to persuade you of something that isn’t true. Don’t believe him.
You can listen to this conversation by following “The Ezra Klein Show” on NYT Audio App, Apple, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube, iHeartRadio or wherever you get your podcasts. View a list of book recommendations from our guests here.
“That is the tension at the heart of Trump’s whole strategy: Trump is acting like a king because he is too weak to govern like a president. He is trying to substitute perception for reality. He is hoping that perception then becomes reality. That can only happen if we believe him.”
These are people that believe perception and PR are everything, so they're trying to create the perception that they can destroy and remake government without consequences or constraints. And for a while people were stunned and overwhelmed by the ugliness of it all.
But now people are moving. Many, many lawsuits have been filed and the people are starting to claim their power.
Don't despair and don't give up. We're not done yet.
Every word out of these people’s mouths is just a confession of their own transgressions. Did Not Like Us hit a little too close to home Ted, you know considering all the accusations and such?
Quietly losing my mind over the fact that Elon Musk has straight up orchestrated a coup of our executive branch and like....I don't even know what, if any, system we have in place to fix this. Like... He's just taken control of the money and locked out the actual appointed officials. What the fuck.
Nazis are taking over my government, and like, not even just the Nazis we fucking elected! And I'm...making hamburgers? Because somebody has to make dinner? I just feel completely unhinged.
If you're wondering, there is plenty to be done about it, and plenty being done about it already, even if it's not happening instantly in a way you can perceive.
Reblogging because this is an excellent article that both tells you about some of what's being done and breaks it down in a way that will help you understand and think about future action. Please read!
Hello everyone 👋🏾 this is my first fanfic in a long long time but I love Richter and Annette so much I just had to write something for them. I’m hella rusty but I hope a few of you find some enjoyment with this one.
You can read it on A03 here
All mistakes are my own
Warning: smut, cursing
Annette could admit to herself that she’d thought about kissing Richter more than once. He was a lot of things but unattractive wasn’t one of them. The stupid Belmont boy was gorgeous, with his sapphire eyes and soft brown hair; of course the idea of putting her lips to his has often come to the front of her mind.
There’d been nights when she couldn’t sleep and the snores of everyone around her weren’t their usual soothing noises of companionship; they echoed in her eardrums and reminded her of how unsettled she still felt here. How lonely she was despite being a part of a vampire hunting group. It was maddening.
Until her thoughts inevitably drifted to Richter, as they usually did. Whether he was laying next to her on the cold ground in a bedroll or an entire room away, the mere knowledge that he was close by brought a small bit of peace to her clouded mind.
She would think about laughing at his dumb jokes, fetching water with him from the closest river, sparring with him because he wasn’t afraid to actually throw a punch towards her. He was exciting to her, he made the tips of her fingers and toes tingle. And the space between her thighs ache.
Annette is less willing to admit that she’s been touching herself to thoughts of Richter lately. For the last three nights in a row, her hand has slipped under the fabric of her night clothes and sought out the hidden nub that sends spikes of pleasure crawling up her spine.
It’s embarrassing.
But it’s also one of the best feelings she’s been able to give herself in a long time.
The implications of what that means, however, are always waiting for her when her chest has stopped heaving and there aren’t stars bursting in her eyes anymore. Subconsciously she agonized over the possibility that her growing fondness for Richter Belmont would expose a part of her she never let anyone see before.
It’s why she invites him to come back to Haiti with her, and it’s why she’s currently sat on a bed too small for the two of them, kissing him and doing her best to crawl into his lap.
The kisses started out innocent. At least on Richter’s end. They were a declaration of their feelings for each other. A confirmation that he actually liked her and wasn’t just all talk. But innocent wasn’t what Annette was looking for.
They survived that final fight. She was on her way home with him, he agreed to follow her anywhere. And now she wants to do everything with him.
Richter’s hands on her waist pull her from her thoughts, their lips are still moving together and his tongue seeks permission into her mouth. She grants it to him happily, a small whimper escaping her throat when he squeezes her side and shifts her onto her back.
She likes kissing Richter, a lot. But she likes the pressure of his body weight on top of her even more. Her legs come up, thighs encasing him tightly and her ankles hooking together at the small of his back.
He grunts in surprise, breaking their kiss to stare down her with wide eyes and a new blush on his cheeks.
Distantly, Edouard’s angelic voice echoes off the walls of the small cabin. She sets a reminder on her mental day to day list to do something nice for her friend in the coming days.
“Annette.”
His breath fans across her face, reminding her how close they are. She smiles up at him, twisting her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck.
“Yes Richter?”
His lips twitch up when she says his name, a blush blossoming across his collarbone and neck; but he’s serious when he asks.
“You’re sure about this?” And then after a moment’s hesitation, “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
She has.
Once.
Back when she’d been enslaved. She’d done it because she’d been curious to know what all the fuss was about and why her friends would risk punishment to for it. Not to mention it was one less thing she’d have to worry about being taken from her.
At the time, it hadn’t been impressive enough for her to put effort into making it happen again. Escaping, revenge and vampire hunting took up too much of her time to worry about shared kisses and affection between bodies.
“Annette?”
She blinks back into focus, meeting Richter’s gaze which has become concerned.
“I have once,” she says with a soft nod. “When I was enslaved.”
Richter frowns and shifts most of his weight to his left hand, the right one cupping her face. His thumb strokes her cheek, the rough pad somehow soothing to her. His skin still feels too warm, but she knows if she brings it up he’ll just insist he’s fine so she leaves it for now.
“That…..wasn’t against your will was it?” Richter asks.
“No!” Annette exclaims, wanting to quell any rising qualms Richter might be having that he could, by proximity, be doing something she doesn’t like or want.
Her hands leave his hair in favor of his shoulders, the muscles are thick underneath her palms and Annette bites back a moan of appreciation.
“It wasn’t by force,” She says firmly looking up onto his blazing blue eyes. “I was lucky. It was with a boy I worked in the fields with, I wanted to get it out of the way so my first time wouldn’t be taken from me.”
Richter’s brow un-furrows a bit, he lowers down enough to kiss her again. This one soft and sweet.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against her lips.
Annette smiles, kissing him harder and squeezing his hips with her thighs.
“Do not ruin the mood, Belmont.” She teases, satisfied when he laughs and doesn’t press farther about what things had been like for her before they’d met.
“Yes ma’am.” He grins and uses the hand holding her face to tilt her head back, exposing her neck to him.
His lips on her sensitive skin are like heaven, the sharp spike of his teeth nipping after every kiss makes Annette’s hips rock.
She runs a hand down his right arm, to join the one still holding her face. Slowly and purposefully Annette drags the large palm to her shoulder then collarbone, arching her back and sighing when he finally, finally, cups her breast through her top.
Richter squeezes, whether out of instinct or shock that he’s actually touching her Annette can’t be sure but she’s barely able to muffle the shout that tumbles from her mouth. She can feel him smirk against her neck, clearly pleased with the sounds he’s drawing from her.
Annette doesn’t care, each sharp wave of pleasure his hands are giving her is worth putting up with his growing ego.
“Richter.” She moans.
He crowds her against the bed, hand alternating between her breasts while his mouth suckles a bruise into the column of her neck and his hips ground into hers. Sweat gathers at the small of Annette’s back, her abdominal muscles burning as she holds the arch to keep as much of her body pressed against him as she can.
Her skirt is bunched at her hips, wrinkled between her and the bed from her insistent need to be moving with Richter. Despite the clothing between them, she can feel him growing harder every time they come in contact.
Richter’s nimble fingers pluck at the hem of her top questioningly, prompting Annette to nod and let her arms fall back onto the mattress above her head.
An open invitation.
His smile is practically blinding as he sits up just enough to hold his weight on his knees and place both hands on her waist. She stares at him while his thumbs stroke the smooth plains of her stomach, tilting her head curiously when suddenly a blush appears across his cheeks and chest.
“What are you thinking about?” She asks softly.
“How good I’m going to make you feel.” He rumbles, voice serious and low as he flexed his fingers, the tips digging slightly into her ribs.
Before she can think of a witty reply Richter slides his hands up, catching her top on the way and pushing it up over her head. He tugs it free of her arms, dropping the fabric to the floor; the soft thump of it hitting the ground is lost on Annette who can only focus on the sudden intensity of Richter’s gaze.
Heat burns at her cheeks and twists in her lower belly. She’s never been looked at like this before, the lustful adoration in his eyes makes her head spin.
“C-Can I touch you, Annette?”
She huffs, amused by him trying to remain respectful despite her bare breasts being on display and his hard dick straining his pants between her legs.
He’s adorable, but Annette needs more. She’s starting to crave it.
“I hope that’s the plan.” She snickers, hands finding his hair again. Scratching his scalp, she bites her lip. “Otherwise I’ve terribly misread the whole situation.”
Richter rolls his eyes, letting her pull him down into another kiss. His teeth meet her bottom lip and he nips at it playfully; two fingers finding one of her dark pebbled nipples and pinching.
Her eyes flutter shut, a breathless “yes!” racing from her mouth as she tugs on his hair.
It’s all the encouragement Richter needs.
Suddenly his hands are everywhere; kneading her beasts fully, gripping her chin to keep bring her in for sloppy kisses, squeezing her hips and petting her thighs. He bites at her neck, flicks his tongue along her collarbone, working his way down until he can suckle at her tawny brown nipples; lavishing them both with his tongue.
The sensation leaves Annette writhing and panting, she wants to wiggle away from the unrelenting pleasure but she also never wants Richter to stop what he’s doing.
He laps at the skin between her breasts, slicking it to the point it shines in the moonlight illuminating their cabin. At her hips, one of his hands pulls on the waistband of her skirt and Annette immediately lifts up to help him get the garment away from her body.
The oceanic breeze of the night air tickles her exposed flesh, cooling a bit of the humid haze she’d been drifting in. Annette blinks her eyes open, looking down to find Richter’s already staring at her; his pupils blown wide and near black with only a slim blue outer ring around his irises.
She traces his jaw line with her fingers, feeling his teeth clench together with restraint.
He looks hungry.
For nourishment she’s certain only she can provide.
Annette bites her lip hard at the thought, her legs falling open a bit to give him more room. They hold each other’s gaze while his fingers dance at her hip, dragging along the creased apex of her thigh.
He pauses, just before his searching fingers can make contact with the place she wants him most. She thinks he’s about to ask her if she’s okay or if he’s allowed to touch her but the Belmont boy surprises her once again. He simply grins at her, kisses her sternum and slips a finger between her soaking folds.
Annette chokes out a moan, her chest heaving as she sucks in a hard breath and her heels dig into the small of Richter’s back. She’s already embarrassingly wet, his long finger stroking from the bundle of nerves at the top down to her aching core over and over until she’s thrashing against him.
“R-Richter—please!”
She’s too far gone to care that she’s whining nor does she care that above her the object of her obvious distress only chuckles and presses a kiss to her clammy forehead.
“Please what?” He asks, watching her face intently. “Tell me what you want, Annette.”
This time her whine is unintelligible, a garbled mess of pleading that she can’t control. But it’s enough for him to grant her reprieve, the tip of his finger taps her opening—once—twice—and then he pushes the obscenely long digit inside of her and Annette shouts.
Her head falls back onto the mattress, her nails scratching at his sides and she tightens around him, already needing more. Richter growls, his finger stroking with the pace of her rocking hips,
“You’re sucking me right in, baby.” He whispers to her, a secret between them that is theirs only.
She whimpers, the sharpest spike of pleasure yet streaks down her spine and settles in her hips. No one has ever called her that before, there’s never been anyone she wanted to think they could have the privilege.
Though Richter is not like anyone else she’s ever met.
He pushes a second finger into her, a much tighter fit but an even better feeling. Annette grinds her hips into his hand without shame, shivering each time the heel of his palm bumps her slippery clit.
Impatience edges into Annette’s mind, her hands reaching down and pushes at the sleep pants he’d just changed into.
“Ta-Take these off,” she whimpers, one hand managing to shove the left side of his pants down his narrow hips.
Richter huffs out a laugh, slowly pulling his fingers from her and sitting up onto his knees. The movement forces her legs to fall open on either side of him, leaving her feeling exposed in a whole new way. Annette’s face burns and instinctively she tries to draw her knees together.
“Well now, that won’t do.” Richter says casually as he shoves his pants down his thighs before kicking them off onto the floor.
He hooks a hand under the crook of her left knee and tugs it out to the side, opening her back up to him.
“You’re beautiful, Annette.” He says sincerely, licking his lips as he settles back between her thighs. “Don’t ever hide from me.”
This time without his pants to keep him trapped against his own leg, his dick is hot and heavy dragging against her inner thigh. Annette slips one hand between them, her slender fingers wrapping around his shaft experimentally.
It’s Richter’s turn to shout, hips jerking when her thumb swipes at the pre cum leaking from his tip and smears it all over the head. Stroking him and twisting her hand at the same time, Annette works him until he’s painfully hard and throbbing in her hand.
She lifts her hips, hoping to guide him to the place she needs him to fill.
“Annette, baby, wait—.”
She smirks up at him, though her hand does go still.
“You have done this before right?” She teases, chuckling at the affronted look he gives her.
“I’m a Belmont, of course I have.” He grins for a moment then says a bit breathlessly. “It’s just never been with someone I cared this much about.”
One of his hands grips her side, the thumb stretching out to her belly button.
“I want this to be good for you, you deserve to feel good.” He tilts his head, eyes looking her entire body over. “You’re so small, I don’t want to hurt you.”
Annette isn’t expecting him to be that honest, especially not now when they’re moments away from their first becoming one. Another emotion spreads through her, not lust and not impatience but a new one that she’s not sure she’s ever felt before.
It’s in this moment that Annette realizes, she loves him.
She loved Richter Belmont, so much that her soul feels ablaze. She wants to scream from the bow of the ship up to the heavens that she has finally fallen in love. And it feels exactly the way her mother told her it would.
Safe.
Exciting.
Like home.
He is her home and she never wants to leave or be without him.
“Richter.” Her voice is soft and lightly. “I know you’d never hurt me, I trust you.”
She releases the grip she has on his, from what she can see, very pretty dick and plants that hand on his chest while the other cards through his soft hair.
“I want to do this with you, I want to feel good with you.” She says firmly. “Do you want to feel good with me?”
Richter nods, desperation filling the lines of his face as he kisses her cheeks, her nose, her chin and then finally slanted his lips over hers.
This kiss is different. His lips devour hers, nipping at her bottom one in a way that twists her hips and curls her toes. The passion he’s pouring into her feels different, it’s a promise, a dedication. To her. To them. To whatever they’re about to build together.
When Richter breaks for air, Annette lets her eyes flutter open and sucks in a sharp breath at the look of pure adoration in his eyes. If she didn’t know better, she would think she created the moon, the stars and the sky.
“I only want you,” he whispers into her mouth, lips tickling hers with the movement of each word. “In this life and the next and the one after. I want to be with you forever Annette.”
She smiles, “Good, because I really need you inside of me right now.”
Richter nods, kissing her again and adjusting their bodies so he can reach down between them. Supporting most of his weight on his forearm near Annette’s head, his fingers glide through her slick for a moment, collecting some of it to spread around the fat mushroom head before he takes hold of himself and lines the tip up, nestling it at her sopping wet opening.
Annette’s eyes slam shut and she pulls back to choke out a moan at the feeling just the tip has ignited inside of her. Above her, Richter stills and she thinks she might sob if he starts to move away.
Her hands fly up to the space where his shoulders and neck meet, the column thick between her hands.
“No Richter, don’t stop.” She wiggles her hips in an attempt to take him deeper, but his hand comes to rest over her lower stomach; effectively holding her in place with ease.
“Annette,” his breathing is labored, her name sounding rough in his throat. “Open your eyes.”
Above her head, his fingers twirl some of her individual locs and stroke at her scalp; Annette can’t help but to push her head up into his touch as she blinks up at him.
She’s never seen Richter look at anyone or anything the way he’s staring down at her now. His sapphire eyes are burning into her very soul, she is the sun and he is ready to pray to her for the rest of his life.
Annette licks her lips, pleased that his eyes tick down and follow the movement of her tongue, then says.
“If you stop now, Belmont, I will never forgive you.”
He laughs breathlessly, nodding. “I wouldn’t forgive me if I stopped right now either.” His finger tips massage her scalp, finding space in the new growth to really put pressure down and ground her.
Annette keens up into the feeling, a pretty groan of appreciation on her tongue.
His hand holding her still at the hips smoothes back around to the outer side of her thigh, gripping the flesh. Richter ducks his head, kissing her and holding her gaze as he murmurs into her mouth,
“Take a deep breath, baby.”
She does as he says without a second thought, gulping for air that he’s breathing into her. Richter smiles, rocking his hips forward and in the same motion, tugs her down onto his shaft slowly.
The feeling is delicious.
The stretch of his dick sliding into her cunt is exquisite, curling her toes and exploding stars in her vision. She’s barely aware of how her nails take down his neck and over his chest, leaving trails of red lines on his pale skin.
“R-Richter.”
He groans in response, his eyes closed and the tip of his tongue pressing into his top lip in concentration. Annette’s sure he’s never looked more beautiful than he does now. She clenches around him when he finally bottoms out, his hips meeting the back of her thighs.
“Fu—Fuck.”
Richter’s thrust start out tentative, his hips rolling experimentally and Annette finds herself lifting her own hips to meet him. Her arms wrap around his neck, holding him down so their chests are pressed together tightly. She rests her cheek against his and Annette darts her tongue out to lick at his ear.
“Please go faster, Richter.” She whines, digging her heels into his ass. “Please!”
Now confident, his hips pick up speed and the hand on her meaty thigh squeezes even tighter. Annette’s spine tingles at the thought of there being finger shaped bruises under her clothing tomorrow.
She clings to Richter as if he is her only life force, right now it feels like he is. The steady drag and pull of him inside her threatens to drive her insane, but Annette is happy to go there if it means keeping this feeling with him alive.
Richter sits back suddenly, onto his knees and the hand that was buried in her hair finds new purchase on her unattended thigh. He holds her open, his thrusts deep, hard and powerful; jerking her body back and forth along the bed.
“Annette,” he growls out, grunting in effort to not lose his rhythm. “You feel, so—so fucking good, squeezing me so tight.”
She nearly arched completely off the bed, his words stroking a very specific part of her brain. Digging her nails into the well carved muscles of his stomach, Annette closes her eyes and loses herself in the sensations.
“Richter!” She pants, eyes rolling in her head. “Don’t stop, please!”
“I won’t, baby.” He promises. “I’ll never stop.”
One hand leaves her thigh, his thumb finding her now puffy clit and strums it with intent, his hips keeping pace as he pounds into Annette.
She chants his name like a pray, one for every time his cock rams so deep inside of her she would swear she could feel him in her stomach. There’s a coil there, curling tighter towards her spine and Annette clamps around Richter in the hopes he can tap the right button that’ll give her what she wants.
He twists his hips down on the next few thrusts and Annette bites into his neck to muffle her scream as she explodes. She goes momentarily deaf, her body and cunt spasming while Richter works her through the life changing pleasure thats rippling through her entire body.
Every muscle she has is taunt and for a split moment Annette thinks his thrusts are going to snap her in half. And she would welcome that sensation with open arms.
Richter’s lips on hers brings her hearing back, the bed beneath them creaks steadily and their skin clapping together bounces off the walls. He licks inside of her mouth, his breath hot and ragged as he chases after the completion she just reached.
Annette holds him tighter, whimpering and mewling at a pitch she knows will root in his brain. Richter moans, losing the rhythm and his thrusts becoming erratic.
“Richter—“
He nudges her head to the side, sweat from his brow smearing against her temple.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby.” He hisses, teeth clenched and his jaw strained, “I love you, Annette, I love you.”
Their hips meet hard three more times, the force jarring hiccup like moans out of her throat but Annette only care about riding out the spikes of unmeasurable pleasure that zip up and down her body.
Richter shudders above her, a roar erupting from his throat as he grinds into her with every last bit of strength he has. Annette whimpers, her face heating at the feeling of Richter’s cum flooding her with warm from the inside.
She watched him with half lidded eyes and massaging at the bite mark shes left in his skin. He slowly lowers down to rest on his elbows and hover over her, his blue eyes blinking open to look hazily down at her.
“A-Are you o-okay?” He asks panting.
She nods, offering him a smile as they both let their chests heave together;
“I’m great.” Annette confirms, lifting her head and kissing him sweetly. “Are you?”
Richter laughs, his eyes scanning her face a few times. “I think I had just had the best sex of my life.”
She bites her lip to keep her laughter contained. “Thats high praise indeed coming from you, Belmont.”
“It is, isn’t it?” He teases, kissing her cheek before he gently tilts her head by her chin and connects their lips again.
They only pull apart when Richter’s weight begins to numb Annette’s hips and torso, both of them shivering when he shuffles back and slips out of her completely.
Using the edge of the blanket hanging off the bed, Richter gently wipes away the mess he’s made between her thighs; the movement gently and caring.
They settle in the bed facing each other. The steady rock of the ocean and the waves crashing together lulls the two lovers into a comfortable silence.
Her fingers thread together at the nape of his neck, arms bent so he’s pulled close. His massive hands holding her waist, the weight of them on her more comforting to Annette than she ever thought possible.
Richter kisses her, exhaustion starting to sag his body into the mattress but his eyes remain open. She strokes his head with her thumbs, smiling at him when it’s clear he intends to fall asleep staring at her.
“So,” she whispers, seconds before they drifts off completely. “You love me, do you?”
His lips twitch up into a smile. Squeezing her sides, he nods sleepily. “Wasn’t it obvious?” He mumbles, kissing the tip of her nose. “I’m all yours.”
The End
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