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A/N: I've had this written as long as the second one.
Azn and Nee convinced me to troll you all though.
Enjoy~...and sorry it's so long, lol T-T
I pull up and away very lethargically, both our mouths agape in shock.
"...Kenny," he breathes out very slowly, his brain just starting to catch up with him it seems. "What...what are you doing?"
"Uh..." I panic.
I'm overtop of him. My hands are up his shirt and in his hair. He woke up for the kissing. What the hell can I even begin to say to him?
"I'm...checking you for ticks," I blurt out.
He blinks at me slowly, "What?"
"Ticks. Bad for...you," I look around nervously. "Suck your blood and...and stuff. And...diseases," I start mumbling, trying to think of my best route of escape.
"Why are you on top of me?" he asks very softly. I look down and see his eyes swimming with questions and a hell of a lot more concern than I needed to see.
"Better...access to look through...your hair?" I state stupidly. He just stares at me, grabbing my arm that is currently under his shirt and pushing me away. I can't say that my heart doesn't sink heavily at this. I was hoping he'd pull it closer or something.
Then again I'm molesting him in his sleep. I'm lucky I still have my dick at this point.
"Why were you kissing me?" he demands, his once quiet questioning now boiling with rage.
"I'm pretty goddamn sure you're not going to find ticks like that," he shoots, his eyes burning with intense anger at this point, his face starting to flush over red. I can't tell if it's the frustration or the embarrassment. Either way it's enough to keep my mouth shut in fear. "And get your hand the fuck out of my hair!" he yells.
My arm flinches away from his head like a hot stove, landing beside him and keeping myself propped up.
I'm going to die. He's going to murder me. It's going to be brutal and they'll never find my body until I come back. If I come back. I'm pretty sure he's pissed enough to find a way for me to stay gone.
"Look," I start, my throat swelling in panic. "I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"What? You didn't mean to what?" he shouts. "You didn't mean to feel me up while I was asleep? The FUCK is wrong with you?"
"Kyle I'm sorry," I repeat, realizing that I'm in a corner at this point. "It...it wasn't supposed to go that far."
Not with you unconscious anyway.
"Oh?" he snarls. "And just how far was it supposed to go? Huh? The hell kind of shit are you pulling on me?" We stare at each other and I watch him as he pants, his nostrils flaring in aggravation. "And get the FUCK off of me!"
I wince, biting my lip and looking around. He's going to leave. He's going to leave and he's never going to look me in the face again. This is bad. I need to do something. I need to explain this, I can't just do this and then let him wonder for forever what the hell was going on through my mind.
I see movement out of the corner of my eye and look just in time to see his left fist flying towards my face. He decks me in the cheek and I fall back slightly, landing down atop his hips. "OW. KYLE WHAT THE HELL?" I yell at him, rubbing at my face.
"Get off of me NOW McCormick!" he orders. "I have no problem doing that to a lower region of yours if you don't back off!"
I stare down at him, my hand resting on my cheek still as I watch him. He's fuming. I guess it doesn't matter what I do at this point, he'll still be mad. But I need to try I guess.
He rears his fist back again and I quickly lunge forward and grab his wrists, pinning them down over his head. I don't think I'm helping my case any. He looks angrier.
"KENNY, STOP," he shouts, trying to pull his arms out of my hold. I'm not too worried. I have about twenty pounds or so on the kid.
"No, Kyle, YOU stop for a second," I yell back. This freezes him momentarily and he looks at me with large eyes. I guess he's not used to me yelling at him. At this point I don't think I can do much to help it. I sigh tiredly, trying my best to give him a pathetic look. From his perspective I probably look like I've lost my mind.
That's not too far from the truth I guess.
"Okay," I start. "So...there's a reason for why I did that but...you totally have to listen to me and if you talk you have to be calm or else."
"Or else what?" he challenges, looking at me with death glaring through his eyes.
"Or else I know things about you that no one else does," I reply thickly. "Be a shame if Cartman got a hold of such information, wouldn't it?"
"OH YOU BLACKMAILING DICKFUCK!" he shouts.
"Hey, what did I say," I glare at him slightly. He shrinks down just a bit, still stewing with anger.
"Fine," he mutters. "This better be good."
I take a deep breath and try to smile at him. "Look, I like you. A fucking lot."
"Really? Couldn't tell when your tongue was shoved down my throat," he replies sarcastically.
"Kyle, please," I plead. "I'm being serious."
He takes a breath through his nose, nodding slightly. "Okay, I'm listening."
"Look, I'm sorry you found out like this," I cringe a bit. "But...I didn't know how to approach it."
"You could have just told me," he says softly.
"Kyle, do you think you're that easy to talk to?" I raise my brow. "Dude, you're too analytical. You would have told me something like...having a psychological dependence on you or something." He's silent so I keep going, "I really am sorry."
"You're sorry I woke up, not that you did it," he pouts.
I open my mouth to retort before shutting it again. He's right. I don't regret one single second of all that.
"No...I'm sorry you woke up and you didn't join me," I smile at him.
"Kenny. You were fucking making out with me. In my sleep. Sorry, but there's a problem when you do that."
"I know I know," I let out a long sigh. "It was stupid but I didn't see what else I could have done."
"You could have TOLD me, Kenny," he repeats. "You never know what could've happened. I could have agreed with you, you fucking retard. I could have been fine with trying it."
This makes my heart spike with hope. "So...I have a chance?"
"No," he glares. "Not now anyway..." he looks away from me blushing madly. "Fuckin' groping me in my sleep," he mutters.
I watch him for a bit before I find myself smirking. "You...you're mad at me for doing this to you while you were asleep," I restate.
"Observant," he keeps his eyes away from me.
"Well...what about when you're awake?" I challenge. "Would you hate it then?"
"Don't. Touch. Me," he says firmly, his blush spreading like wildfire and his wrists twisting to get out of my grasp.
"And...if I do?" I grin. He's fighting but not nearly as badly as he could be. He's simmering down too much.
"I'll kill you," he looks at me suddenly, his eyes piercing with threats. I stay locked in his gaze a bit longer before I can see fits of nerves flying through the vivid green layout. I grin wider.
Putty. Pure. Putty.
"Oh?" I purr, l lean down towards him and he backs his head up against the pillow. I feel him trying to sink down into the mattress and can't help but smile at him. "I think you're bluffing," I say lowly.
"I'm dead serious, Ken," he states, his voice now filled with worry.
"I think I have the upper hand here, don't you?" I ask. "You're not getting very far if you're stuck like this."
"What, you planning on staying on top of me forever?" he demands.
I grin so wide I almost swear my face is going to rip in half. His own drastically falls and he tries backing up again. I lean down and put my nose atop of his, staring into his green eyes and feeling myself stirring back up once again.
"As long as you want me to," I growl, pushing our lips into each other fiercely. He makes a loud noise of protest and starts flailing his hands, trying to smack his fists onto me.
He swings his head towards the side and pants, making more discontented noises as I latch my lips down onto his throat.
"Kenny! Kenny stop it... Dude, stop!" he rasps out, jerking around a few times.
"Shh," I trace my lips up his throat by his ear. "I don't think you really want me to," I whisper against him. He shakes and I lick my lips. I've got him.
"Y-you don't fucking know that you retard," he protests.
I kiss his ear before grabbing his lobe between my teeth, gently grating it and listening to him breathe out shakily.
"Stop," he whispers, his wrists not fighting nearly as much, his body refusing to try to back up anymore. I pull back just a hair and laugh warmly.
"Why?" I breathe into his ear.
"I don't want this," he says quietly.
"You're lying."
"No...I-I'm not."
"Then why is your heart beating so fast?" I hiss, letting go of his left wrist and diving my hand up his shirt once again, resting my hand overtop his chest. His hand flies up and grabs a hold of my sweatshirt, weakly trying to push me away. I grab a hold of his nipple again and pinch him viciously. He hisses and arches up off the bed against me before falling back down into place, looking at me with eyes of desperation.
"Stop that!" he insists, pushing my shoulder. I scoff, pushing my way back down and latching my mouth atop his. He yells against me but I can feel his disposition melting underneath my fingertips. I dive my tongue down past his teeth and collide with his tongue. He yelps and I smile against him, kneading his skin in my fingers some more as I twirl my muscle around his own. He tries pushing me out of his mouth, his hand smacking down on my shoulder in futile effort. He tastes like cinnamon and popcorn, his breath hot and heavy against my face, urging me to taste more, pulling me further into him into his erotic display of defiance.
I moan a bit for show, moving around slightly and putting my knee between his legs in the midst of my distraction of his lips. I smirk against his whining, pushing my knee up against him and watching his body arching violently. I keep moving my leg up and down against him, feeling his hips arching into my thigh further.
He wants this. He wants it.
I pull back from his mouth, as uninclined as I feel to do so, and stare down at him. His lips are parted and panting, moist and red from my attack. His eyes are shining in a completely different light than they were in just a few minutes ago. His hand is no longer beating on me, but still pushing against me a bit.
"You. Need. This," I say, rubbing his nipple with my thumb into a hardened peak.
"I...I don't," he shakes his head.
"Kyle," I say firmly, moving my leg against him again. He winces and his mouth opens in short little groans that make my cock twitch with every utterance. "You. Want. It," I state, grinding against him in time with my words. His hand flies from pushing against me to curling his fingers into my coat.
"K-Kenny...," he stammers, blushing fiercely. "I...I don't think..."
"You don't need to think," I interrupt, grabbing his nipple and pinching it enough to make him yelp. He bites his lip and stares at me nervously.
"This...this is wrong," he says. I grin again. That's his last line of defense. It always is.
He's mine.
I let go of his other wrist, cupping his chin and running my thumb over his lips. He grabs onto my sleeve, looking a mess of concerned, confused, and turned on all at once. "Better than me just jerking off over the phone to you, isn't it?" I ask huskily. He blinks at me before I attack his lips again.
No protesting this time. No fighting.
He's right where I want him.
He seems like he's frozen; caught between wanting to kick me the fuck away or pull me closer. I think he's still letting his mind battle out his options.
I'll change that.
I move my free hand down and slide it up his shirt along with its counterpart, grasping around his waist, his hips, his chest. Scratching his skin lightly just to feel him shudder under my touch time and again. My body tingles with excitement as I feel his fingers gripping ever-so-slowly into my jacket, his arms warily pulling me closer towards him. His tongue hesitantly starts sliding against mine, his breathing scorching and wavering against my skin as our lips make and break contact.
I start rubbing my hands up and down his torso, feeling the rapidfire beating of his heart just under my palms and smiling to myself. Perfect. Utterly perfect. I move my hand back down again, grabbing the hem of his shirt and slowly working it up his abs, stealing glances as we continue our game of clashing tongues.
I brush the back of my fingertips over his stomach, feeling him quake and relishing in it. I hear him try to supress what sounds like a moan working its way up from his throat and I chuckle. I bite down on his bottom lip, pulling him up with me as I lean back a bit. One of my hands snakes out from his shirt and up towards the top of his jacket, working the zipper down slowly as I grate his lip between my teeth.
He lets out a soft noise, pulling out from my grasp and looking at me worriedly as I force his coat apart. "Kenny, I don't think this is a good idea," he says in a shaking whisper. I sit up slowly, never breaking eye contact with him. I perch atop his leg under my own and grasp his arms, sitting him up with me a bit. I smirk and start pushing his jacket down his shoulders as he watches me with unblinking eyes.
"I think it's a great idea," I purr, sliding his coat down and off his arms. I rip it away from him and throw it aside, keeping our stares locked as his face contorts with mild terror. "I get something I've been wanting for a long ass time, and you get to feel things you never even dreamed of feeling."
He shies down in embarrassment and I cup his chin, pressing my lips to his briskly before grinning at him again. "Now, let's see just how much you can feel," I growl before grasping the hem of his shirt and ripping it upward. He gasps as I force it up and off his head, wrestling it off and throwing it behind me. I stare at his chest with famished eyes, watching it as it rises and falls with anxiety.
Fuck he's so perfect. He's crafted just for me, just for me to be able to touch and feel and taste and smell and hold. I take the back of my index finger and trace up his flat stomach, in utter awe of how fucking gorgeous he looks right now. I place my hand flat against his chest and push harshly, watching as he falls back and catches himself on his elbows. The look of wariness and fear of what's to come in his expression is priceless. He's so fucking innocent about this whole thing. A part of me wants him to stay like that for the entirety of our time; the other part of me wants to see him begging for me to let him suck my cock.
We'll just have to see how well that plays out.
I lean back over him again and lean our foreheads together, laughing lowly. "Don't worry, Kyle," I whisper. "I'm not going to do anything that you don't want," I promise, moving leg on the outside of him beside my own. I shove my body forward, forcing his legs to spread apart around me as he falls down onto the pillow. I lean down, placing my lips on his collarbone and sucking slowly. He intakes a sharp breath and I push my hips up against his, feeling myself becoming almost unbearably hard already. I speed up my lips and my teeth, suckling on his skin relentlessly. He gasps under me and I keep pushing my hips onto him, grinding down and feeling his body starting to react.
I take my lips from my victim spot, staring at it with a wide grin. My first mark. My very first showing that even if it's just for a night, Kyle Broflovski was mine.
I'm distracted from my victory as a rather loud moan erupts from the boy beneath me and I look to find his hand flying towards his face, covering over his mouth as his face shines in embarrassment. I pause my grinding and my lips curl. "What was that?" I question.
He shakes his head, cheeks beaming red and eyes flittering around.
"Did you just...moan, Kyle?" I tease, playing with his nipple with my right hand. "Did you just ask me for more?"
He looks away from me, shrinking down against the mattress. No no no, that just won't do.
I grunt, pushing my hips forward into him vigorously a few times, grinding harshly against his pant line. He moans past his hand, his thighs closing in on me a bit at I continue to move. I take a short pause, leaning down and kissing his forehead before trailing down to his ear. "Don't be afraid to ask," I assure him in a deep voice. "Tell me what you want and I'll make sure you get it."
He remains silent, still trying to keep his eyes averted away from me. I just chuckle again, leaning down and claiming another section of his neck for my own, grating it and violently sucking on it with anticipation. He's melting under me. He's completely losing sight of what's really going on. Right now, his world is me, mine is him, ours is us. I pull off of my second mark before reaching a hand up and leaning back overtop of him, staring into those deep green eyes as he moans again.
"Move it," I say roughly. He gulps, taking his hands off his mouth. I run my hand up through his hair, grasping roughly on his curls and making him gasp, his head leaning back and his throat coming up towards me slightly. My fingers tangle and curl into his wild locks, keeping a hold on him as I move him down and plant my lips against his. He immediately welcomes my tongue into his mouth and my toes curl in excitement, my hips gyrating against his faster and with more precision on the angle that makes him tingle.
His arms suddenly thread up around my neck and he pushes his chest up against mine, letting his tongue swivel along with my own, his kisses suddenly taking on the passion that I've been dreaming of for so fucking long. I push my hips down onto his again, keeping them together and pulsating our bodies into an erratic rhythm with one another's.
I nearly jump out of my skin in glee as his legs tentatively wrap around my back, a part of him still holding back but oh so much of it opening up for me and for me alone. I pull back from his lips, barely an inch from his face. "You want more?" I ask.
His eyes creak open, giving me a full-frontal view of a deep metallic emerald that I didn't even know existed. Kyle's tongue passes over his lips nervously, his legs and arms still wrapped tightly around me. I wait patiently for an answer, not wanting to just play this game by my rules. He slowly slides one of his hands down, his eyes breaking from my stare and looking off to the side of my head. He grabs a section of my bangs lightly between his fingers, twisting the gold strands with underlying curiosity. He suddenly goes from my hair down to playing with the trim of my jacket's hood. He glides his fingers down along the fur lining and stops at the zipper hiked up at the top. He bites his lip, playing with it a bit and looking deep in thought.
A part of me suddenly pangs with guilt. I did kind of force him into this. He doesn't seem to mind but now I think he's stuck with what he wants to do. My horny side is screaming for me to just rip off his pants and plow him down into this bed. The side of me that remembers that Kyle is my friend above anything else is telling me to calm the fuck down and give him a few moments to consider his options.
I wince as he shifts around and pushes up against me, my instincts telling me to just go right back and continue. But now I have no idea.
He's still stuck looking at the pull of my zipper, his eyes concerned and quite overwhelmed. I slowly bring my hand in his hair down a bit, stroking over his cheek with my thumb.
I take a deep breath, feeling mildly disappointed. This is not part of what I wanted to feel when this happened. I wasn't expecting guilt on top of everything else coursing through me right now.
"Kyle," I start, watching as he still won't look at me, "We...we don't have to I guess," I mutter, practically kicking myself for letting my opportunity of a fucking lifetime hang in the air.
He finally brings his eyes up into mine and cocks his head slightly. "What?"
"Look, it's up to you where this goes from here," I sigh, trying really hard to not sound pathetically disappointed about the whole thing. I guess I don't feel the need to guilt trip him into this. I want him when he knows he wants it and is willing to give back, not just going along for the ride.
He stares at me in shock for a few moments. "Dude. You would really stop just because I asked you to?"
It hurts that he makes it sound so unbelievable.
I nod. "Yeah. It's not cool of me to make you do this I guess," I shrug, stroking his cheek still. I can't help it. I still want the physical contact. He's not going to be able to avoid it.
He stares a while longer before his lips curl into a small, subtle smile. "I really appreciate that, Kenny."
I smile back and shrug. "Glad." Not the answer I wanted, but he seems to be feeling a lot better about this whole thing.
"But...," he starts slowly.
"But?" I jump, staring him down.
This is it. I have to get away from him. He's going to be angry later and he's going to remind me of this every chance he gets. He's going to make me feel like an asshole on a regular basis. Fuck...
"This is going...really fucking fast," he says a bit awkwardly. "I'm not really sure what you're doing here," he laughs nervously.
Trying to nail you.
"Acting on my feelings?" I shrug. "I...was kind of hoping for the same thing to be happening with you...ya know?" I frown.
He smirks, "Kenny before I tell you one way or the other you have to tell me something."
He looks back at me with those metallic eyes again and I feel a shiver pass all the way through me. "What kind of feelings is it you're expressing for me here?" he raises his brow.
"What...whaddya mean?" I blink.
"Is this a 'oh look, easy ass' kind of thing or-"
"NO!" I shout. He recoils, looking nothing short of terrified for a moment of my outburst.
"O-okay," he says slowly. "Then...what is it?"
"I...I don't know, Dude," I sigh. "It's like...you're not...like other people. You're not some bimbo or some guy who's humping everything that moves."
"So you wanted me to turn into one?" he questions dryly.
"No, no, no," I shake my head.
You'd only be doing any kind of humping with me if I had it my way.
"I mean that I'm just...sick of people like that."
"Says the boy rutting against me like a bitch in heat," he reminds me.
"...Shut up. But that's exactly what I mean," I pout. "You're not like that and I like that and...I don't know, Dude. Can't I just like you without giving you an explanation?"
"Apparently you don't know me very well," he smirks.
He's got me there.
I try to think of more to say, completely distracted by his playing with my jacket again. He sighs, looking away from me again with tired eyes. I stare down at his half-revealed form and feel my shoulders drop.
I had him. What the fuck am I doing...
"Just...one more question," he says.
"What is it?" I ask quietly, expecting a 'willl you stop it now?' or something similar.
He looks at me and smirks again. "You really think that if I was that against it, I wouldn't have beat the ever-loving shit out of you by now?" I blink at him in shock before he laughs softly, grabbing the collar of my jacket and shaking his head. "Fucking idiot," he mutters before pulling me back down towards him. Our lips collide and sparks fucking fly through my system, making me nearly fall limp on top of him.
Fuck yes, fuck yes, Fuck. YES.
His fingers suddenly start pulling down the zipper of my jacket as my hips start pushing against him, fully back into motion. He manages to work the metal down the length of the parka and I quickly and clumsily fight it off of my arms, throwing it in God-knows-what direction. His hands slide up my neck through my hair, pulling me down as he moans throatily and his kissing becomes a lot more confident within mere seconds of playing the field. I grind against him, my mind completely devoid of any thoughts except for that I have Kyle under me. I have a willing Kyle underneath me nonetheless.
His hands move down my back and he grabs the edge of my t-shirt, slowly pulling it up over my back. His nails just slightly scrape against me and I shudder, imagining those things practically clawing through my skin as he holds onto me. As he pulls me closer into himself, whispering in short gasps against my skin.
I unlatch my arms from over top of him, letting him tear off the damn shirt and watching him as he tosses it behind him. He looks at me with a gleam in his eyes that puts me on the brink of losing control. He gives me a warm, lusty smile, his hand moving up my chest with the slightest bit of curiosity.
He better know that there isn't a chance in hell that if we go any further, I'm not going to be able to stop.
"You're sure," I ask lowly.
He rolls his eyes, lightly grasping around my shoulders and sitting up a bit. He leans up by my neck, kissing it gently and breathing deeply against me. "Would you shut the fuck up already?" he asks softly before I feel his teeth scraping over the crook of my neck. I sigh contentedly, stroking my fingers over his spine.
I grin, laughing to myself slightly. "Make me. Make me speechless if that's what you want," I purr.
He scoffs against me, his lips trailing along my skin. I can feel his mouth trembling a bit in his nerves and I chuckle, biting down on his shoulder and moving my hand down his back. I grin, gripping him and leaning back, pulling him with me. I sneak my hand down, sliding my hand past the waistband of his jeans and grabbing his ass. He gasps and I squeeze his skin again, pushing his hips forward against mine.
There's so fucking much I want to do right now. Too many ideas flooding my mind to keep me on track. I just enjoy his hungry mouth kissing and nipping at my throat and my collarbone, squeezing his ass eagerly. I moan softly as his trails his tongue up my jugular, realizing that if I let him keep this up, this is going to make me lose it before we even get to the good stuff.
I bring my other arm around and grab him from behind, sliding my legs down straight underneath him. I roll my shoulder and he backs off, licking his lips slightly as we lock stares. I smirk at him and roughly squeeze his skin before dragging him forward as I lie myself down. He stumbles slightly, his legs struggling to straddle over me. He lands with his hands down on either side of my head, his bangs hanging down lazily in my face.
He smiles shyly and I tilt my head up, kissing his lips softly. "So," I start, running my hand along his backside. "Is this something you've wanted to do or are you just playing it by ear?"
He shrugs, "Won't tell you it's never crossed my mind. But I have the feeling that it's crossed yours a lot more than mine."
"But of course," I shrug back, working my hand down towards the front of his jeans. I feel him freeze over top of me as I make quick work of his button, sliding my hand down over his boxers and feeling that he's just as riled up as I am. I quirk my brow in amusement, palming over him and watching him shake. "Don't get all nervous on me," I state, though watching him become a blushing mess isn't exactly deterring me from continuing. "You want this just as much as I do."
Maybe not quite so much, but I'm trying to work my angles here.
He looks a little hesitant still so I sigh, making a big show out of sliding my hand back out and then down under his boxers. He moans from the back of his throat, letting out a heavy breath out across my face as I grasp around him. I stoke my thumb along his shaft, watching his reactions with a large smile. I'm barely doing anything and I've got him quaking like he's got a shit ton of crack goin' through his system. I move my head, kissing his arm a bit before he does me one better, diving his head over and stealing my lips. He moans into my mouth and it does nothing but keep me going. I grab his dick and pump his skin like it's fucking made for me; managing to find everything that makes him squirm and moan in mere minutes. I feel my own cock becoming incredibly uncomfortable in its restrained position.
I break from his lips, putting my cheek against his as we pant alongside each other. "Whaddya say we get to the good stuff before you're done, huh?" I breathe out, feeling his face flushing against mine. I put my lips against his throat, feeling him gulp as I start working his pants and boxers down. He groans, grasping my arm as I bite down on him. My eyes look past the red locks in my face and down towards his lower half as I finally work his clothes down to his thighs. He reaches back, pushing them down the rest of the way and sliding his pants off, grabbing his socks along the way. I grab them from him and chuck them to the other side of the room, determined to make sure he can't so much as think about putting the damn things back on.
I back off of his neck, looking up at him with a crooked smile. Naked Kyle overtop of me. Blushing. Already starting to sweat. Panting and staring at me with the most enticing stare I could imagine.
My entire fucking wet dream come true.
I push his shoulders slightly, moving him down a bit. He backs off and I sit myself back up, flinging my hair out of my eyes. He stares at me in silence and I just laugh at him, grabbing him again and pulling him up over my lap. He settles down on my legs and I take the chance to look him up and down. His skin is so pale and ashy, it looks like I could break it from just touching it. I run my fingers up over his arm, looking at the very subtle muscle hiding under his frail form. He's built so perfectly. Made just for my eyes, just for my enjoyment.
My eyes drift down to his dick and I lick my lips, grabbing him and lightly moving my thumb over his slit. "Sure you haven't thought about this that often?"
"Shut up you p-perv," he winces, digging his fingers into my leg.
"Hm, I don't think you want me to," I growl. "I think you're rather enjoying every bit of this, aren't you?"
"You don't know that," he challenges, smirking at me.
"Preeeeetty sure I do," I reply, grasping his skin and jerking him off roughly. He holds back a moan, shaking atop me and moving his hands up, grabbing at my shoulders and losing a great deal of control as his fingernails scrape down over my chest.
"Jesus Christ," he gasps out, his hips pushing lightly in time with my movement.
"Sure you don't like it?" I grin, watching him near convulsions at my teasing, increasing my pressure around him. He lets out a lengthy groan and I nod softly in approval. I haven't been imagining him being loud for nothing. I want to hear him screaming for more; I won't have him holding back any more of his delicious sounds.
"Sh-shut up," he pants, his legs quivering around my own. I inhale the faint scent of his sweat, leaning forward and kissing his left nipple, grasping it in my teeth and flickering it with my tongue.
I plant a final kiss on him, leaning back once more and smirking wildly. "What did I say before?" I growl. "Make. Me."
I see his eyes open and that familiar glance of a challenge passing over his soft, flushed features. He bursts forward towards me, taking my lips and delving his tongue into my mouth before I get the chance to do so myself. Now THIS is more like it!
He slides his hands around my chest repeatedly before grabbing my hand currently working its magic on him and pushing it away. I almost question him before his tongue silences me again. I feel him scooting back on my legs and grabbing my pantline. He tears open the button and the back of his fingers just brush over my throbbing cock. I can feel myself shaking worse than he was earlier. He has no fucking idea how much I want this. How much I need to feel his touch.
I move my hands down, lifting my hips up and letting him tear my pants and boxers down to my thighs. He settles back onto my legs, his tongue still roaming wildly against mine. He grabs a hold of my twitching cock and I nearly die right then and there. His slender fingers wrap around me tentatively, his breathing intensifying against my mouth as he starts stroking me. I run my hands up along his sides, reaching up and tangling my fingers in his hair and pulling his head as far into mine as I possibly can.
His hand tightens around me, little sparks shooting off in every which direction in my head. Our noses rub up against each others and he bites down onto my lips, pulling up before pushing his tongue back into my mouth. His pumping becomes braver, his free hand sliding along my thigh and sending goosebumps rocketing throughout my core.
He pulls back and chuckles a bit. "Ken..." he breathes out in a way that makes it take every ounce of my strength to not throw him down and just take him right now. "I think I won," he grins, looking at me with devilish eyes.
I grin wildly, completely ignited by his newfound lack of reluctance.
Fuck holding back. I've been holding back from this for two years.
I grab his arms and pull his hand off of me, throwing him off of me onto his side on my mattress. I roll over and pin him down underneath me, his hands flying up and grabbing my arms.
"You think so, huh?" I purr, thrusting our cocks against each others.
"Y-yeah," he smirks. "Got you to shut up awfully quick."
"Mm," I muse, leaning down and kissing his nose gently. "Well, I have no intention of shutting you up," I grin. "In fact...," I grind down onto him enough to make him arch up against me and moan. I drop down into a whisper, feeling his rapid breathing washing over me. "I want you to tell me just what you want."
"You to n-not be an asshole," he grimaces as I keep my thrusting up. I'm not letting him back out of this one.
"Kyle..." I taunt, stroking my finger up over his cock and up along his stomach. He lets out a wavering breath and I place my finger up at his lips. "Come on," I urge.
He leans up and bites my finger roughly and I pull it back quickly, shaking my hand and wincing slightly. "Hey!" I pout.
"Just shut the fuck up, you know what I want, you dick," he glares.
"What was that? You want my dick?" I grin widely. He growls, reaching up and grabbing me around my neck and pulls me down on top of him. I prop myself up on my elbows and smirk at his burst of temper.
"You. Are. An asshole," he grimaces.
"You. Need. To. Tell me what you want," I challenge.
He pouts at me, "I don't beg."
"Don't have to beg," I say, though that's what I was going for. I push my hips down onto his and move against him, watching him tense and his mouth open in a soft meowl. "Just request...in a pleading form," I grin.
"F-fuck you," he stammers out between heavy gasps.
"Oh...close," I state, reaching down to the side of my mattress and sliding my hand under the surface. I search around before feeling something hit my hand and I grab it out, holding it up in front of him and shaking it.
He blinks at me, "You keep lube under your mattress? You fucking freak."
"Only in preperation for this day," I wink.
I pop open the tube and he stares at me as I pour a bit onto my fingers. "What...what if this happened at my house?" he questions.
I look at him and shrug, trailing my fingers down his stomach as I scoot back down his legs. I grab under his left thigh and push it up, spreading his legs apart and moving my finger down to tease his entrance. His breath suddenly stops and he looks at me with wide eyes. "Guess you should be thankful then," I laugh. "You don't have to deal with this dry," I state before pushing my finger into him. He yelps at my movement, flinching enough to send himself flat back onto the bed. I slowly prod him, taking a deep breath of anxiousness. He's damn lucky I have this lube. I don't plan on being very slow when we get going.
"Come on, Kyle," I urge, slowly adding another finger up into him. He groans, arching his back off the bed and panting. I push down into him up to my knuckle, watching as his fingers claw at the mattress. I twist and turn my fingers around inside of him, feeling his body tensing around my fingers.
"A-ah...," he groans, his head shaking slightly. I brush up against the one spot I know will get him to cave for me and he practically jumps out of his place. "F-fuck," he pants, gritting his teeth as I slide in my third finger. I watch the sweat starting to bead along his forehead and smile. He's loving this. He whimpers softly and I feel him pressing back against my fingers, asking for more.
I got him.
I lean forward by his head and laugh against him. "So. Anything you want from me?" I ask.
"I...I...Ugh, Kenny," he moans loudly.
"Come on, Kyle," I order.
"K-Ken I...I-FUCK," he screams, arching violently as I press against his little ball of nerves just right.
I kiss his cheek, watching as his mouth stays agape and he flinches around. "Just say the word and you get what you want."
"I...Aah...Just fuck me, you asshole!" he shouts.
Just what I needed.
I pull my fingers out of him and move back over top of him, sitting between his spread legs and looking over him famishedly. I have Kyle Broflovski in front of me in one of the most indecent angles he could possible be in. He's asking for me and only me, he's honing in on me and how much he wants this to happen.
I better not just be dreaming here.
I grab the lube from beside me, pouring more over my fingers and slathering it over my cock, getting overly excited and managing to spill a mess of it onto my thighs and my bed. I keep prepping myself, looking up to see Kyle staring at me with half-lidded eyes, his hand lazily stroking at his chest as he keeps his eyes locked on my dick in my hand.
I lean over him again and kiss his lips softly. I pull back and ask lowly, "How bad do you want this?"
"Enough," he retorts.
"How. Bad." I repeat, placing my cock at his entrance, poking into him just barely and making him shake with anxiety.
"Enough," he states again. He quickly wraps his legs around my waist and pulls me down, forcing me to plunge into him. "FUCK!" he screams, arching almost completely off the bed. I grab under him before he lands back and hold him up a bit. I take a moment to catch my breath; focusing on the extreme heat that's passing through Kyle to me.
"Kyle..." I pant, trying to regain my breath.
"Kenny, go," he pleads. I look down at him, in a state of momentary shock. I wasn't expecting him to be quite this eager.
This is going better than I ever could have dreamed.
I prop myself up with my free arm, taking a deep breath before starting to pull out of him. I reach my end and push back into him with all that I can muster. He strangles out a pained sound and I look at his face, seeing a trace of tears beading his lashes. I lay him back down on the bed, wiping my thumb across his closed eyes.
"Are you okay?" I ask softly.
"F-fine," he pants. "Please. Please..."
I smirk, starting to thrust into him, watching him as he starts quivering underneath me. His arms fly up and over my shoulders, his fingers digging into my back. I feel sweat starting to pool down in the small of my back, my legs already aching as I keep pushing into him. But I can't stop. This is everything I need, everything that I've been dreaming of for so fucking long.
He meowls heavily and it drives me on, feeling his legs clenching around my waist and pulling me deeper inside of him. "K-Kenny," he mumbles, seeming lost and completely consumed in disorientation.
I put my head down over his and we pant against each other, a bead of sweat running off my nose and falling onto his cheek. "Feel good?" I manage to ask. I sure as hell know it feel fucking amazing from my place.
"Ken..." he starts, his chest heaving. His fingernails claw into me and I keep pulsing my hips against him. His hot skin rests between us, his muscles shaking at each thrust into him. "Please...," he whispers.
"Please what?" I ask.
He pulls me down and kisses me, pulling back and looking into my eyes desperately. "Kenny, more," he begs softly, his face flushing over radiently. I smile, pressing my lips onto his and forcing his head down onto the bed once again. He moans as I prop him up a bit, finding an angle and driving down harder into him. The sound of smacking skin completely fills the once void air, our tongues dancing around each others' in a frenzy.
"Fuck," I mumble against him, feeling myself losing control way too quickly for my liking.
His nails dig into my shoulderblades and he keeps his mouth firm against mine, swallowing down each of my grunts as I in turn receive each of his needy moans with vigor.
I shift slightly and slam down into him, sending his head flying back and a yelp of pleasure errupting throughout the room. "Fuck, Ken! There!" he pleads. I move my mouth down to his collarbone, biting him as I resume my rhythm. Slowly building up speed and force with every thrust.
I grab his skin between us and he gasps, swallowing down a mouthful of air as he garbles out a long noise of pleasure. I start roughly jerking his skin in my palm, feeling him dripping out already and running my thumb over the started mess. Every push into him seems like it takes all of my effort, like every move is enough to knock the wind out of me. But I can't stop. I just need to hear these noises. I need to feel his walls so fucking tight around me, so perfectly formed around my skin that he seems to beckon me inside him.
"Kyle, fuck," I gasp out, my thighs trembling, my back aching with exhertion. "I'm...I'm gonna..." I groan, backing up to pull out of him before he tightens his legs around me and forces me back inside him.
"Kenny, please," he begs, moving his head up and resting it on my shoulder. "Inside...please...," he whispers into my ear.
It's enough for me to completely lose all sense of reasoning, every other feeling other than pure euphoric bliss echoing and shattering everything else I've ever felt. I moan out his name as my vision completely disappears, lost to a sight of blinding white lights and a mental picture of Kyle's blushing, radiant face. I yell for him as my release skyrockets through my body, sending every limb into a complete numbness as I explode into his waiting form.
I open my eyes again to see Kyle arching up, screaming my name as he follows suit, his cum splashing between the both of our stomachs. I keep pulsing my palm around him throughout his orgasm, slowly and somewhat reluctantly letting go after he's done. He drops down to the bed again, his body shaking and twitching exhaustedly. He opens his eyes, looking at me in astonishment a few moment before his lips curl up into a tired smile. I grin back, leaning down and pecking his lips a final time before pulling out of him and collapsing down beside him.
We lie side-by-side just panting for a good while before he finally breaks the silence, "...wow."
"Yeah," I laugh. "Wow is right. Damn," I shake my head, looking up at my ceiling with what I can only imagine is the biggest grin I've ever had.
"I...I don't know what the hell to say," he states. I look over to find him staring at me, an embarrassed flush overshadowing his previous one of lust.
I snort, rolling onto my side and taking him in my arms. "Words are overrated anyway," I mumble, snuggling down into his hair and taking a large breath of his delicious scent.
He sighs, pushing his head against my chest and just breathing steadily. I can still feel him twitching now and then under my arms and can't help but grin. Apparently this isn't as bad as he initially thought it'd be.
"So..." he starts.
"So?" I repeat.
He looks up at me, the metallicness of his eyes now back to their natural bright and curious state. "What now?"
"Round two," I grin.
"No, stupid," he glares. "What about you and I now?"
I shrug, "I don't know. Do you want a relationship or are we going to be friends with benefits?"
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you," he pouts. "You're the one that was so hellbent on getting me in the sack. You've thought about this more than me, may I remind you."
"Yeah, I know," I smile.
"Well what is it you're wanting?" he stresses.
I look up thoughtfully before glancing down to see him looking at me with rather worried eyes. "Well I would rather you not be banging anyone else because I think that only I should be able to have that amazing privilage," I answer truthfully. "So ya know, will you go out with me or something? Or just round two. I can totally get behind that," I smack his ass playfully.
He rolls his eyes, punching my arm. "Asshole," he mutters, sighing and leaning his head against my chest again.
I stare down at him and scoff. "Well what is it that you want?" I ask him.
He looks back up at me and shrugs. "I'd rather not be one of the infamous sluts of Kenny McCormick if I can get away with it."
"Aw, you don't wanna be my whore?" I pout.
"I'm not a whore," he glares.
"You can be my whore though," I smirk, kissing his forehead. "Mine and mine alone. And no one else has to know that. They'll just call you my boyfriend instead."
He looks at me reluctantly and I shrug. "I promise, you're not one of the 'infamous sluts' whatever the fuck that is. I think the last time I got laid we were fifteen."
"Really?" he looks surprised. That hurts.
"Yeah really," I pout. "I was waiting for you," I kiss his nose.
He blushes, a smile creeping up his face. "You're such a fag, Dude."
"Eh," I shrug. "You're the one who liked it up the ass, not me," I wink. He blushes deeper and I just smile. "So. Yes or no?"
He shrugs back, "I guess. I mean...it sounds great. It really does," he grins.
"It will be," I promise him. "Full of love and puppies and rainbows and all the butt-fucking you want," I gesture my hand across the sky. "Not to mention tons of what got us here in the first place."
He raises his brow. "You already said butt-fucking."
"Nah," I shake my head. "Phone sex. Nightly phone sex any day we don't see each other."
"Kenny, we didn't have phone sex you retard," he retorts dryly. "You just jerked off because you're a creep."
"It was sex in my head," I reply thickly. "Phone sex."
"Ugh, whatever," he rolls his eyes "Not interested in that, thanks. A little too weird for my tastes." . We hear a small noise and look over towards the other side of the room. "Shit, my phone," he mutters, pushing out of my arms much to my dismay. He walks back towards his jeans and I stare at his ass dreamily. I just plowed the shit out of that fine thing.
He grabs his pants and slides them back on, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. "It's Stan," he says, blushing. "From twenty minutes ago."
"You were too deep in the throes of ecstasy to hear it, don't blame yourself," I tease. He growls at me before sighing and walking towards my door. "I'm going to go clean up," he tells me, walking out as he presses buttons on his phone. I chuckle, sitting up and stretching tiredly.
Good fucking day. Best day of my damn life if I do say so myself.
I sigh happily, running my fingers through my hair. I grab my pants from the end of the bed, not even remembering taking these things off completely. I grab my phone as well, opening it to find that I have a missed text from Stan, too. I smirk. Looking for Kyle? Sorry pal but he was all mine for the night. And he's going to be mine for quite a few more as well if things go my way.
I hear water running in the bathroom and suddenly become inspired. He's cleaning up so I guess round two is out of the question like I want...Time for plan B.
I quickly hop up and walk over towards my desk, grabbing my chair and toting it out of the room. I quietly sneak down the hall towards the bathroom, standing in front of the door. I grin, tilting the chair up and pushing it under the knob. I shake it a few times gently, making sure that it's secured before grinning and standing beside of it. I hear Kyle shut off the water and chuckle, slowly walking back down the hallway.
I hear the doorknob trying to turn and Kyle pushing against the door.
"What the hell?" he asks.
I stroll back into my room, hearing the sound of Kyle struggling against the wooden barrier. I hear him calling for me down the way to come help him, but not just yet. He'll get my help when he agrees to my plan for our relationship.
I grab my phone from the desk and grin as I get to my contacts list. I scroll to Kyle's name and press the call button, sitting down on my bed again, my cock already twitching in excitement. I laugh softly, grabbing myself and pumping slowly as he answers, "Kenny, what the hell! Let me out!"
"No no no, not yet," I sigh, laying back on my bed and grinning. "Take off your pants real quick."
"WHAT?" he demands. "For what? Come let me out!"
"Not yet, my dear," I state. "It's time for a little practice session." I pause, my toes curling at my imagination. "Just give me a quick second here."
"Why? Kenny come on, I don't feel like it," he whines.
"Do it and I'll let you out," I reply. "I'm not breaking on this."
"Three seconds into a relationship and I already regret it," he mumbles before sighing tiredly. "Fine. Let's make this fucking thing quick, I wanna sleep."
"Fine fine, just one moment."
"For what?"
I pause again, grinning and letting out a soft laugh. "Can't miss out on anything. I'm putting you on speaker."


text:
Up until the final moments of Wednesday (Dec. 8) night's "Survivor: Nicaragua," it remained unclear which of two rechristened castaways would be going home.
For a while, it looked as if Ben "Benry" Henry had successfully abandoned his former alliance and convinced new power players Holly, Jane, Chase and Sash that he'd be willing to vote Jud "Fabio" Birza out of the game.
The editors tricked us and the vote went against Benry. It wasn't a dramatic exit, but it might have been appropriate for a 24-year-old player whose goal was to be strong, but socially under the radar.
My full interview with Benry is after the break. Somehow I forgot to ask Benry about calling Alina a "dirt squirrel." I'm not sure how that happened…
HitFix: So how'd you watched your "Survivor" departure?
Ben Henry: I sortta celebrated last night, had a few drinks. I drank some Flor de Caña rum, right out of Nicaragua.
HitFix: I guess that seems appropriate. Anyway, it was hard to tell from last night's episode what exactly went down. Have you been able to piece together how it was that you ended up leaving instead of Fabio?
BH: Yeah, I have. I think Sash had his mind made up. I think he was gonna go with Jane and Chase and Holly the entire time and I think those four just mutually agreed that, I guess, I was a bigger threat than Fabio. They'd seen me do better in challenges. I think they thought I was maybe a little bit more aware and intelligent than Fabio was at the time and they could get rid of him next. I think they thought it was very possible that I could win Individual Immunity and win my way into the Final 3 and I wouldn't be the best person to sit next to in the Final 3 because I haven't made that many enemies on the Jury. I think they all mutually agreed to send me home over Fabio.
HitFix: You understand the decision, but do you think they probably made the right move?
BH: I took it as a compliment, but I don't know if they made the right call. We'll see.
HitFix: You mentioned that they might have thought you were more "aware" than Fabio. This has been an ongoing debate all season: How much of Fabio's Fabio-ness would you say is an act?
BH: Absolutely. Somebody just asked me who I thought the dumbest person in the game was and I said that I wanted to make something clear, that it definitely is *not* Fabio. I think it's definitely a huge part of his game and his strategy. He's a very intelligent kid and he knows exactly what he's doing. He's not as dumb as you'd think.
HitFix: But is he *smart*?
BH: Well, I mean… He's not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he knows what's going on. He's playing dumb for a reason. He's got his feet in every alliance and he hasn't really had a solid alliance the entire game. He's kinda like me, he's got eyes and ears in all places.
HitFix: It felt as if you were stuck in a default alliance with Dan and Fabio. You couldn't really have been confident that that alliance was going to last you very long, right?
BH: Yeah, that alliance just sorta happened. It just sorta formed. I was never really extremely confident about it. It's tough to say now, but at the time, I really trusted Chase, and Holly always told me that I gave her new life in the game when the tribe switch happened. And I did! She was next to go home, so she always compared me to her son. So I always felt like I had Chase and Holly in my back pocket, so I felt like I could have eyes and ears in all places and then maneuver my way back into an alliance with Chase and Holly, but it didn't work out that way.
HitFix: As a very physical player, what do you make of the fact that Dan is still in the game?
BH: I'm really just as surprised as you are that Dan's still in the game. He was definitely holding us back in numerous challenges. Thank God he had to sit out for that "Gulliver's Travels" challenge, because whoever he was sided with would have absolutely lost. That being said, I don't think they showed how much he talked about what he has — his mansions, his millions, his Ferrari. I think people wanted to take him to the Top 3 knowing that he wasn't going to get any votes.
HitFix: Do you think there's been something strange about this season, the voting? Normally a guy as weak as Dan gets voted out immediately. Normally you pull the things NaOnka pulled and you get voted out immediately. Instead, both of 'em just lingered… Do you think there was a reason why that was happening?
BH: I think think there a lot of rookies, for sure. It was a lot of people definitely not knowing what they were doing and just getting a feel for the game. There's been a lot of talk about that, "What's going on this season?" You know, when we were on La Flor, we were like one big alliance. Everybody really did talk to everybody and everybody talked about everything, but I don't know…
HitFix: Obviously your goal was to come in and be the sorta strong, amiable provider, but we didn't really see the strategic side to your game. Were you really just content to have that one big alliance with La Flor, or did you have other goals in mind?
BH: I get along with any and everybody, all types of people. That was my strategy going into the game, was to lay low and create an immediate alliance and just befriend everybody and keep quiet. And I did. I definitely didn't talk much. I was a solid asset to my tribe, both my tribes, I was bringing back rewards and winning challenges and was definitely a solid extra set of hands for every tribe that I was on. That brought me to the Merge and come Merge time, I had a big target on my back, being a physical threat. Like Sash said last night, I was giving 110 percent. I'm a competitive person and I was giving 110 percent in every challenge that I did.
HitFix: How dangerous did Sash suddenly become? He was in charge. Then he was on the outs. And then suddenly he became this all-powerful swing vote. Was it uneasy for you to watch him suddenly become that powerful?
BH: Yeah, it was. I put faith and trust in him, I thought, when we had him back at camp and those other three were on their reward. I thought that we'd done a pretty good job of persuading him and obviously he did a pretty good job of persuading us that he was gonna jump ship and vote with us. There's a lot that the viewers didn't get to see when we were talking with Sash and cleaning off our mud. He made it pretty clear that he was going to vote with us and he wanted to ride it out with us. He's definitely a shifty little guy. He's a smart guy. It's frustrating to watch his interviews, though, with the arrogance and the cockiness. It really bothers me.
HitFix: Do you admire his strategy or not?
BH: I think he played a solid game. It's fine. There's something about him that just bothers me, but he's played a good game and he's a smart player and it was sortta fun to watch how everything unfolded.
HitFix: Did the loss of the two quitters last week shake up the game at all in terms of strategy and whatnot? Or was there no impact at all?
BH: I don't think it really hurt me that they quit. It still would have been odd numbers. Kelly and NaOnka were very close with Chase, Sash, Jane and Holly, that whole alliance. They were a lot closer with them than with me, so that's why it didn't hurt me to have them quit. The whole time there was talk of them quitting, I was sitting there saying, "Let them quit. That's two less people we've got to go through for the million dollars." But then you have Chase and Sash sitting there comforting them and trying to talk them into staying. That was obviously them being strategic, but I never really thought it would be valuable if they stayed.
HitFix: I take it you don't agree with their decision to quit, but how hard did it get out there? What did we not see?
BH: They'd show a rainstorm here or there, but it was frickin' miserable, man. We were in the middle of a rainforest at peak rain season. I've seen it rain before. I've been in some rainstorms. These were some serious monsoons. It would rain for two or three days straight with no sign of sunshine. It got pretty brutal and there was definitely a point in the first week of the game where I was in my own head like, "Benry, what did you get yourself into? There is no amount of money that's worth this." It was miserable. But never did I contemplate quitting. Like I said: Winners never quit, quitters never win. I stand by that and I live by that motto. I never would walk away, but it was pretty brutal. It was rough. There's not enough palm fronds that you can weave. With rain like that, it's getting through. You're getting wet. That's why it was frustrating to have to go to Espada the day after I won that tarp.
HitFix: Last question: You've had plenty of time to rehash this experience, how far you made it and how close you came… In retrospect, is there a move or two moves you could have made that might have taken you all the way to the end?
BH: There are so many coulda-woulda-shouldas and I hate looking back and wishing I'd done something differently, but yeah, there are differently things that go through my mind. Like even last night, I could have worked harder to persuade them that Jane is a bigger threat than me and I might have gotten through one more Tribal and then it would have been even numbers and I felt close with Holly and Chase… But I think my fate was sealed. I think I was cornered and I knew my days were limited.
The full season of "Survivor: Nicaragua" Exit Interviews:

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Norbert Bisky
Norbert Bisky (born 1970) is a German painter based in Berlin, best known for his frescos depicting adolescents.[1]
He was born at Leipzig in the former German Democratic Republic. The son of a Communist official, he grew up in a home in which Communism assumed the power of a religion.[1] He studied from the mid-1990s at the Hochschule der Künste where he was a master student of Georg Baselitz in Berlin and at the Salzburg Summer Academy in the class of Jim Dine.
His work is greatly influenced by the socialist realism which was the official art of the GDR. In recent years he has shifted to darker themes of disaster, disease and decapitation while retaining the consummate painterliness which is the hallmark of his work. His figures, in many cases are floating, falling, tumbling, without any gravitational axis. The tumult surrounding the figures is punctuated by the cross pollination of cues from Christian ideology, art history, gay culture, pornography and apocalyptic visions.[2] Bisky transmits an impression of instability on the canvas that distinctly resonates with our contemporary state of affairs.
- "Zentrifuge", Kunsthalle Rostock[3]
- Galerie Daniel Templon, Paris, France
- "Norbert Bisky: Special Report", MEWO Kunsthalle, Memmingen
- "Paraisópolis", Galerie Crone, Berlin
- "Stampede", Leo Koenig Inc., New York
- "A Retrospective. Ten Years Of Painting", Kunsthalle Marcel Duchamp, Cully, Switzerland
- "Decompression", Galerie Daniel Templon, Paris, France
- "befall", Galerie Crone, Berlin
- "Maudit", Galerie Charlotte Moser, Geneva, Switzerland
- "Mandelkern", Kunstverein Dortmund, Germany
- "Nefasto Máximo", Galería Espacio Mínimo, Madrid
- "Norbert Bisky: Paintings", Haifa Museum of Art, Israel
- "cloud cuckoo land", Gallery Mirchandani + Steinruecke, Mumbai
- "privat", Galerie Crone, Berlin
- "minimental", Cokkie Snoei Gallery, Rotterdam
- "What's wrong with me" Leo Koenig Inc., NYC
- "Behind Innocence", Gallery Hyundai, Seoul
- "It wasn't me", Haus am Waldsee, Berlin
- "Total Care", Contemporary Art Center, Vilnius
- "es tut mir so leid", Galerie Michael Schultz, Berlin
- Studio d´Arte Cannaviello, Milan
- "Déluge", Galerie Suzanne Tarasiève, Paris
- "Malerei", Künstlerhaus Bethanien, Berlin
- "The Proud, the Few", Leo Koenig Inc., NYC
- "Abgesagt", Mannheimer Kunstverein
- "Opkomst en Verval", Cokkie Snoei Gallery, Rotterdam
- "Schlachteplatte", Galerie Michael Schultz, Berlin
- Museum Junge Kunst, Frankfurt/O.
- "Wir werden siegen", Galerie Michael Schultz, Berlin
- "Vorkämpfer", Chelsea Kunstraum, Köln
Public Collections[edit]
- MoMA
- Museum der bildenden Künste Leipzig
- Museum Ludwig
- National Museum of Contemporary Art, Korea
- Fonds National d'Art Contemporain, Paris, France
See also[edit]
- Mullins, Charlotte (2006). Painting People: Figure Painting Today. New York: Distributed Art Publishers. ISBN 978-1-933045-38-2


text:
Avalon Sterling Silver Celtic Wedding Ring
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Obituary for Ida WallingaBorn: Jan. 27th, 1918
Passed Away: Jan. 4th, 2013
VisitationMonday Jan. 7th, 2013
2:00pm to 4:00pm and
7:00pm to 9:00pm at Throop Funeral Home
Directions to Throop Funeral Home
ServiceTuesday Jan. 8th, 2013, 11:00am at Coopersville Reformed Church
Directions to Coopersville Reformed Church
ObituaryWALLINGA - Mrs. Ida Wallinga, aged 94, of Coopersville, was called home to her Lord Friday, January 4, 2013. She was born January 27, 1918 to Jacob and Christine (Schmidt) Metten. Ida was preceded in death by her husband Peter Wallinga and her son, Donald. Surviving are her children, Beverly (Herman) Smoes, Jan (Carroll) Snyder, David (Pauline) Wallinga, Carol (Ron) Riemersma; 15 grandchildren; 39 great grandchildren; two sisters, Margaret (Pete) Schaaphok, Ruth (Claude) McNitt; one sister-in-law, Joyce Metten and many nieces and nephews. Funeral Services will be held Tuesday, January 8, 2013 at 11am at the Coopersville Reformed Church, Rev. Stephen Mowat, Rev. Greg Stamm and Rev. Arnold VanBeek officiating. Burial will be in the Coopersville-Polkton Twp. Cemetery. Visitation hours will be Monday 2 to 4 and 7 to 9pm at the Throop Funeral Home in Coopersville. Memorial donations may be made to Kuyper College, Donald Wallinga Scholarship Fund. An online guestbook may be signed at www.throopfh .com Throop Funeral Home Coopersville, 616-837-8161
Burialat Coopersville-Polkton Twp Cemetery
Directions to Coopersville-Polkton Twp Cemetery


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Skip to Main Content
Reviewed by 2 customers
Comments about bedgear Twilight 0.0 Performance Pillow:
The side of my face and my ear goes numb when I sleep on this pillow. I tried it off and on for a couple months on different beds... same result. It cannot be returned after 30 days, so this is a useless pillow. Very disappointed.
Comments about bedgear Twilight 0.0 Performance Pillow:
Really like the feel of this pillow...just enough support although 3 weeks have passed and i feel there is a small breakdown of support in favoured areas...pillow stays super cool but the cases don't want to stay on...by morning the pillow case mine as well be off completely and i feel the cases actually seem to hold heat despite feeling like spandex...overall pretty satisfied...as im able to slerp with my arm under the pillow without having it go numb...also helped my neck pain...mostly a stomach sleeper but all over during the night.....can't really put a price on having a great pillow...but for me to buy another one in 12-18 months time I'm gonna need a discount coz $180 is really steep to be a repeat customer...have recommended to several friends and when they seen the price...well...i got laughed at!...but i really do love it.


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Lemon Meringue
READY IN: 35mins
Recipe by Sally Sasquatch
A tart lemon pudding with meringue topping - minus the fattening pie crust! Although, you can also fill a baked pie crust with it. Yumm!
Top Review by dolliegyrl
Thanks for sharing this yummy healthy recipe! Its really delicious and not hard to make at all. There was no leftovers! Its a keeper!
See Discussion:1 Review
Ingredients Nutrition
- 1⁄4 cup sugar
- 3 tablespoons cornstarch
- 3 tablespoons flour
- 1 dash salt
- 1⁄2 cup hot water
- 3 egg yolks, slightly beaten
- 1⁄2 teaspoon grated lemon peel
- 1⁄3 cup lemon juice
- 3 egg whites
- 1⁄2 teaspoon vanilla
- 1⁄4 teaspoon cream of tartar
- 6 tablespoons sugar
Directions See How It's Made
- Mix 1/4 cup sugar with cornstarch, flour and salt.
- Add hot water and cook, stirring, until boiling.
- Add egg yolks, stirring constantly.
- Add the lemon juice and peel.
- Combine thoroughly and pour into individula pyrex dishes or a pie plate.
- Make meringue by beating the egg whites with the cream of tartar and vanilla until foamy.
- Gradually add sugar and keep beating until stiff peaks form.
- Spread over lemon pudding.
- Bake at 350 for 12-15 minutes or until lightly browned.


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28 - 25 Final
No one has shouted yet.
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Northern Illinois
Miami (OH)
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Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Quest Completes Imceda Acquisition
Irvine-based Quest Software said yesterday that it has completed its acquisition of Imceda, a provider of database administration products. Quest announced the acquisition of Imceda in April for $46.5M in cash, and will add Imceda's products to its product portfolio. Imceda's LiteSpeed product is a leading backup and recovery solution for the SQL Server market, and includes features such as compression and encryption.


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Deborah Lippmann Addicted to Speed
- 1 reviews See the Breakdown
- Product Info | Add Your Review
Deborah Lippmann Addicted to Speed Reviews
Dries fast but....I hate top coats that gets really goopy when it gets almost empty. Gets so annoying and messes up my perfectly done manicure. On top of that, I feel like I don't really get my money's worth because it's still 1/4 empty before I have to toss it out. It becomes goopy and stringy and I'd rather just not deal with it. — 1 year, 5 months agobeautypoet101 | 581 reviews
This review is: Helpful | Not helpful | Inappropriate | 1 of 2 people said helpful
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My Reasons for Reporting This


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SwissGuard LEGACY Computer Backpack - Fits Most 16" Notebooks, Organizer, Trolley Strap, Case Base Stabilizer Platform, Air-flow Back Padding, Black/Grey, (67329140)Item#: S53-1074 | Model#: 67329140
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Professor in the English department, of the Newark campus of Rutgers University, specializing in the English literature of the eighteenth century and the history of the English language. Those who have a high tolerance for boredom can peek at my CV, either in its ostentatiously unabridged incarnation or in a slightly more modest shortened version. Those with an even higher tolerance for boredom might look at my musings on a blog, Dull in a New Way. And if you want to make an appointment with me, my calendar will show you when I'm free. (Easy-to-remember version: http://tinyurl.com/LynchCalendar.)
Holy crap! I'm chair of the department of English! How the hell did that happen?
I spent the last academic year living as a gentleman of leisure, thanks to the largesse of the National Endowment for the Humanities, which paid good money to keep me away from students. But somehow time managed to pass, and then some finks decided it would be a lark to elect me department chair, so here I am. I'm still learning how to abuse my vast power to my own advantage.
I still have crazy notions about being a productive scholar. My huge (375,000-word) collection of essays called The Oxford Handbook of British Poetry, 1660–1800, is now out; at a mere $150, it makes a great stocking-stuffer. My trade book You Could Look It Up: The Reference Shelf from Ancient Babylon to Wikipedia came out in early 2016 to mostly good notices. My current big research project is a biography of Shakespeare forger William Henry Ireland, which I'd like to finish, at least in a first draft, this year. And one of these days I hope to finish my facsimile edition of Tristram Shandy, to be accompanied by a huge bibliography of Sterne studies since 1978. I've already done most of the damn work; I should get a payoff.
And of course I continue to tout some recent books that have already appeared in the Bibliotheca Lynchiana.
The list of courses I've taught was getting too long for this page, so I've moved it all to another page.
All my classes (and anyone who's curious) are encouraged to consult my guide to grammar and style, my in-progress guide called "Getting an A on an English Paper," and my very rough and incomplete guide to literary terms.
A few chunks of my dissertation are available on-line — but really, would it kill you to pony up the dough for The Age of Elizabeth in the Age of Johnson? And as I find the time to post papers I've delivered, they'll appear on their own page.
I've collected some miscellaneous links, some of them as close to fun as a downtrodden professor is allowed to get.
Please feel free contact me with questions, comments, requests, and recommendations. E-mail is easiest. You can also write to
Jack Lynch
Department of English
Rutgers University
360 M. L. King Blvd.
Newark, N.J. 07102
My office phone is (973) 353-5204, but I check my voice mail only from the office, so it's an unreliable way of reaching me, especially when classes aren't in session.
Some general notes about these pages might make some things clear; you're encouraged to check them out before you contact me.


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ORLANDO, Fla. -- You can almost picture the scene: The Celtics bunkered down for film study at their practice facility, coming off an intense six-game series with the top-seeded Cleveland Cavaliers, and watching tape of the Orlando Magic essentially waltz through the first two rounds of the 2010 NBA playoffs.
But what stands out most is how the opposition offers little in the way of resistance against Dwight Howard, allowing Orlando's uberathletic center to get to the rim uncontested and convert an array of dunks and layups.
The Celtics are half appalled, half salivating. It won't come that easy against them, they promise each other.
And for all 39 minutes he was on the court in Sunday's Game 1 of the Eastern Conference finals, absolutely nothing came easy for Howard as the Celtics took turns hacking away at him en route to a 92-88 triumph at Amway Arena.
Howard finished 3-of-10 from the field for a pedestrian 13 points and a condemning minus-9 in the plus/minus category.
But that's not the most impressive nine on the stat sheet. That would be the nine fouls the Celtics committed on Howard, whacking him four times in the first quarter alone and letting him know that he'll have to earn every point he accrues this series.
"You gotta be physical, he plays physical," said Rasheed Wallace. "That was the thing we looked at on film; over the last two series, guys just let him do whatever he wanted to do down there. We're definitely going to fight him."
The Celtics entered the series with a lengthy defensive checklist, including contesting Orlando's 3-point shooters and stopping dribble penetration by Magic point guard Jameer Nelson.
But being physical with Howard had to be at the top of that list in bold print, underlined twice, and smeared with yellow highlighter.
The statistics tell the story. During the first two rounds of the playoffs, Howard averaged 9.8 post plays per game, shot 71.1 percent on post-ups (27-of-38 overall), and generated 78 points that way.
According to the wizards at ESPN Stats & Information, Howard got the ball in the post 13 times Sunday and scored a mere nine points, while shooting just 25 percent overall.
What's more, Kendrick Perkins bullied Howard into 1-for-7 shooting when the two were paired up (Howard was 2-for-3 otherwise). Howard did not register a single dunk, an astounding fact when you consider that 25 percent of his total field goals have come on dunks in the postseason.
It simply won't come that easy against Boston.
"We made it tough on him," said Perkins. "It's going to be a physical series. We are going to play physical and we know how he is a physical guy, but we just tried to play him and make it tough on him."
The strategy worked for at least one game. Howard looked dapper when he arrived at the podium for his postgame Q-and-A with the media, but he spoke in somewhat hushed tones that don't befit his typical boisterous self, a player who holds a pregame dance party on the hardwood and soars around the court befitting his Superman nickname.
"[I can't] get in a wrestling match with those guys," Howard said. "I think that's playing to their advantage, trying to wrestle with them and fight for position. Then they play better defense that way.
"They played great defense tonight, they made it tough for me to score. I'm not happy with the way things happened tonight. Now I have to go back, regroup, and look at film to really focus on better ways to get position and score."
He's not going to like what he sees. Five different players fouled him Sunday night, including three apiece for Wallace and Perkins. The Celtics acknowledge there's no such thing as rollover fouls, so why not use 'em while they got 'em?
"We have a lot of fouls," said Wallace. "I have my six. [Glen Davis], [Kendrick Perkins], Shelden [WIlliams], and Kevin [Garnett have six, too]."
This simply keeps with tradition. Boston fouled Howard 32 times during four regular-season meetings and they're already exceeding that average in Game 1.
"I think what they're going to try to do is try to frustrate me and get into my head and play their game," said Howard. "So I just have to do my best to stay focused and not get frustrated."
That didn't happen Sunday. Just 26 seconds after Wallace replaced Perkins in the third quarter, he and Howard got tagged with double technicals for a dust-up under the Orlando basket.
Howard got called for a three-second violation soon after and traveled on Orlando's next possession, then threw the ball away from the official in disgust, earning another team technical for delay of game.
Clearly, Boston succeeded in getting under his skin.
But that shouldn't come as a surprise. Boston loves the bully role, especially when it's accompanied by a sort of brash confidence that further rubs an opponent the wrong way.
These are the Celtics that showed up for one game this year and found boxing gloves hanging from their locker stalls signed by Manny Pacquiao, the WBO welterweight champion they befriended during their first title run in 2008.
This is a team where Paul Pierce routinely makes extended boxing analogies, while Davis and Perkins engage in a shadowboxing routine before the opening tip of each game.
Boston loves to mix it up. Perkins boasts five stitches in his upper lip that say as much -- the result of catching an elbow from Shaquille O'Neal during a foul that Perkins committed in the last round.
Perkins enters this series battling sore knees and lingering tendinitis from the grind of going 12 rounds for much of the past 6½ months. But he's happy to throw some more haymakers with Howard.
Maybe it's time for Wallace to bust out the wrestling-style championship belts he used to carry into the arena. It doesn't even matter that those titles still belong to Orlando, the reigning champs of the Eastern Conference. If the Celtics continue to play as physical as they did against Howard in Game 1, they'll be the rightful owners of those belts before long.
But regardless of the final outcome, the Celtics are adamant that Howard will not score easy buckets.
"Other guys, he might intimidate them or whatever," said Celtics point guard Rajon Rondo. "But with our bigs, they don't really care."
Chris Forsberg is the Celtics reporter for ESPNBoston.com. Follow him on Twitter.