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This was a story I wrote and published on DeviantArt. I offer free commissions until July 3 and, afterwards, I will be rolling-out a 2-for-1 deal: Order 1 commission, get another for free. DM me and I will make your story next! Em-Bri User Profile | DeviantArt -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The late afternoon sun poured through the high windows of Westfield High’s gym, casting golden streaks across the hardwood floor. Jake Thompson, the school’s wrestling captain, leaned against the bleachers, his broad shoulders relaxed after practice. At 18, with an undefeated record, he carried quiet confidence, though his high school wrestling revolved around pins, not submissions. The gym was empty, his teammates gone, leaving him to soak in the silence. The doors swung open, and Ms. Valentina, Jake’s history teacher, strode in, her presence electrifying. At 25, she was the youngest teacher at Westfield, her dark hair swept into a high ponytail that swished with each confident step. Her green eyes gleamed with mischief, and her outfit—black leggings clinging to thick, muscular thighs and a fitted blouse hugging her full, high breasts—showcased a body built for power and allure. Her butt was a perfect, round masterpiece, each cheek flexing subtly, and her toned abs peeked out where her blouse rode up. Her scent, jasmine and warm vanilla, wafted through the air, intoxicating. To Jake, she was mesmerizing—her curves made his pulse race, her thighs looked like steel traps, and her confident smirk left him off-balance, his eyes lingering longer than they should. “Hey, Jake,” she called, her voice smooth and teasing. “Hanging out after practice?” Jake straightened, flashing a polite smile, cheeks warming as her scent hit him. “Hey, Ms. Valentina. Just chilling. You grading essays in the gym?” he joked, nodding at her gym bag. She laughed, a throaty sound that sent a shiver down his spine, and dropped her bag with a thud. “Not quite. I hear you’re the wrestling team captain, right? Undefeated this season?” Jake’s chest puffed slightly, pride flickering. “Yeah, that’s me. Been a good year.” “Impressive,” she said, her green eyes appraising him, lips curling. “Takes grit to lead a team like that. You keep those boys focused?” Jake chuckled, rubbing his neck. “I try. They’re a handful, but we’re solid.” “Nice,” she said, nodding, her ponytail swaying. “Discipline’s everything. Speaking of which, how’s that Revolutionary War essay for my class? Not slacking, are you?” Jake grinned sheepishly. “It’s… getting there. Those primary sources are brutal.” She tilted her head, smirking. “They’re supposed to be. You’re sharp—don’t skimp on citations, or I’ll have you rewriting it after school.” “No way, ma’am,” he said, chuckling. “You’re tough in class.” “Only because you can take it,” she replied, her eyes locking on his, making his chest tighten. Her blouse strained as she shifted, her breasts a distraction Jake fought to ignore. “Speaking of taking it… I wrestled in college. Catch wrestling. Know it?” Jake’s curiosity sparked, though his eyes flicked to her thighs, thick and powerful, before returning to her face. “Kinda. That’s the stuff with submissions, right?” “Exactly.” She stepped closer, her scent enveloping him, making his head spin. “It’s raw—control, holds, taps. Sometimes knockouts if you’re not careful. Way tougher than your high school pins.” Jake raised an eyebrow, intrigued but wary. “Knockouts? Like, putting people out?” “Oh yeah,” she said, her tone proud. “I’ve had big guys snoring on the mat—triangle chokes, headscissors, you name it. They think they’re tough until they’re out.” Jake laughed, unease flickering. I’m not letting her knock me out, he thought, his competitive streak flaring. Her butt swayed as she shifted, and he forced his eyes up. “That’s wild. Were you good?” “Good enough to run the mats,” she said, smirking. “Think you can handle me, champ?” Jake hesitated, gaze tracing her curves—thighs like steel, butt a perfect distraction, confidence unshakable. “I’m up for it,” he said respectfully, mind lingering on her body. “Sounds like a challenge.” Her eyes twinkled. “Let’s set up some mats, and I’ll show you how it’s done.” They dragged blue mats from the storage closet, laying them out in the gym’s center. Jake couldn’t stop stealing glances—her leggings hugged every curve, ponytail bounced, breasts swayed as she bent to adjust a mat. Her scent filled the air, making his focus waver. Once, his hand brushed her thigh—firm and warm—and he yanked it back, face burning. “Sorry,” he mumbled. She waved it off, smiling. “Move faster, champ.” When the mats were set, she unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a black sports bra straining against her breasts. Jake’s breath caught—her abs chiseled, skin glistening, thighs radiating power as she stretched, butt flexing subtly. “Ready?” she asked, dropping into a stance. Jake nodded, adrenaline surging, her curves making his focus falter. “Yes, ma’am.” They circled, footsteps soft. Jake lunged for her waist, but she sidestepped, hooking his arm and twisting him down. He hit the mat on his back, air rushing out. She straddled his hips, thighs framing him, butt a curve in his peripheral vision. Her scent flooded his senses, and he hesitated, distracted by her ponytail’s sway. Focus, man, he thought, shoving her off and rolling to his feet. They grappled, Jake grabbing her waist. Her warmth and scent made his mind wander to her thighs, costing him a beat. She twisted free, butt brushing his arm, and flipped him onto his back. “Too slow,” she teased, pinning his shoulders before letting him up. Jake scrambled up, cheeks warm, and they clashed again. He feinted left, trying a leg sweep, but her agility won. She tackled him, breasts grazing his chest, and he faltered, scent overwhelming. She straddled his chest. “Time for a triangle choke,” she said. Her legs snaked around his neck and right arm, locking a triangle. Jake felt crushing pressure—her thigh across his throat, warm and unyielding, muscle like iron under her leggings, squeezing his airway with relentless force. The fabric was smooth, sweat-slick, clinging to his cheek, its warmth seeping into his skin, slightly tacky as he struggled. Her other thigh pinned his arm, heavy and taut, trapping him in a vice. Her ankles crossed behind his head, pulling tighter, sending a throbbing ache through his skull, pulse hammering in his temples. The heat of her body enveloped him, thigh’s firmness and skin’s subtle give amplifying his arousal and panic. His fingers dug into her thigh, sinking into dense flesh, nails scraping the leggings. His chest heaved, lungs burning, each breath a gasp. Her scent—jasmine, vanilla, sweat—flooded his senses, spinning his head. His free hand pushed her knee, feeling unyielding muscle, fingers slipping, effort trembling his arm. I’m not going out, he thought, but her thigh’s warmth stirred a flush. Jake’s eyes locked on her thigh, inches from his face, its thick muscle rippling under the leggings, the black fabric stretched tight, glistening with sweat, catching the gym’s golden light in a glossy sheen. Her hip curved above, a sleek arc of skin and muscle, smooth and taut, leading to her chiseled abs, each ridge sharply defined, a bead of sweat rolling down, glinting like a jewel. Her sports bra strained, the black material taut against her breasts, their swell rising and falling with steady breaths, the fabric creaking faintly, seams straining. Her ponytail swished, dark strands catching the sun, fanning out like silk, framing her face—green eyes glinting with control, lips parted in a sly smirk, a sweat drop tracing her jaw, her cheekbones sharp in the light. The sight of her power and allure, so close, made his pulse race, focus wavering, arousal surging despite the choke’s grip. “Holy—this is tight,” Jake rasped, throat raw. “Push my knee, champ,” she commanded, voice sharp. “Don’t let me put you down, or you’ll be daydreaming about this hold all week.” Jake bridged up, hand shoving her thigh, feeling its resistance. “It’s… not moving,” he grunted, fingers slipping. He twisted, leggings brushing his cheek. “How’s it… so tight?” he gasped. “Years of training,” she replied, breath warm. “Tap or fade.” “Not… yet,” Jake panted, face crimson, lungs screaming. His hand brushed her butt’s firm curve, sending arousal jolting. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Less sorry, more fight,” she teased, voice sly. “You’re slipping, and I bet you’re already replaying this in your head.” The gym tilted, thigh a warm cage. I’m not going out, he thought, but he slapped her thigh in submission twice. She released him, and he rolled onto his side, sucking air, neck throbbing. “That was intense,” he said, grinning. She stood, brushing her ponytail, sports bra riding up to reveal her midriff. “Solid effort,” she said, stretching, thighs flexing, butt curving. “Almost had you out.” She leaned closer, scent enveloping him. “Got more in you, or are you too busy daydreaming about my moves?” Jake nodded, mind on her thighs. “Yeah, I’m good.” They grappled, Jake trying a single-leg takedown, fingers brushing her thigh’s muscle, focus wavering. She twisted free, ponytail whipping, breasts grazing his arm. She flipped him onto his back, pinning his shoulders. “Keep your head in the game, or you’ll be zoning out thinking about this later,” she teased, letting him up. They clashed, Jake grappling, bodies close. Her warmth, scent, curves overwhelmed him, and she tackled him, straddling his chest, thighs framing his face, butt a curve he couldn’t ignore. “This one’s a treat,” she said, wrapping her arms around his back and pulling his face into her chest—a breast smother. Jake’s world vanished into suffocating softness. Her breasts pressed against his nose and mouth, damp sports bra sealing his air, fabric rough and sweat-soaked, clinging to his lips, its texture abrasive yet warm, slightly gritty with perspiration. The pressure was gentle but relentless, cutting breath with ease, her breasts yielding slightly yet firm, enveloping him completely, their weight a constant, suffocating presence that molded around his face. Her skin radiated heat, slick with sweat, flushing his cheeks, the warmth almost burning, seeping deep into his skin. Her heartbeat thumped against his cheek, steady and powerful, a rhythmic pulse contrasting his frantic pulse, grounding the chaos. Her jasmine-and-vanilla scent, thick with exertion’s musk, overwhelmed, each shallow breath heavy, dizzying his senses, clouding his mind with a heady fog. Her arms were iron—one locked around his torso, squeezing his ribs, the muscle taut, unyielding, pinning him flat, making his chest ache; the other cradled his head, fingers tangled tightly in his hair, pulling him deeper, strands tugging sharply at his scalp with each shift, a faint sting adding to the overwhelm. The sports bra stretched, creaking faintly, its seams digging slightly into his skin, amplifying the pressure, the fabric’s edge catching his nose. His chest burned, lungs screaming, the lack of air sending a dull ache through his body, his limbs heavy, tingling with desperation. His hands flailed, brushing her butt’s firm curve, the muscle hard under her leggings, sending a jolt of arousal that mixed with panic. He froze, embarrassed, but refocused, mind whirling. The warmth, softness, scent was intoxicating, his body pulsing with fear and arousal, pulse hammering in his temples, each beat a desperate plea for air. I’m not going out, he thought, thoughts sluggish, her breasts’ crushing softness, her scent pulling him under. “Mmph!” he muffled, voice lost. “Find a gap,” she ordered, teasing. “Or you’re done for, and I bet you’ll be replaying this moment tonight.” Jake twisted, but she pressed him deeper, breasts enveloping him. “Can’t… breathe,” he mumbled, lips brushing her skin. “Keep up,” she teased, voice sultry. “Or I’ll put you out.” Jake shoved her elbows, hands trembling, gripped her thighs, muscle unyielding. Her warmth, scent overwhelmed. I’m not going out, he thought, vision dimming. His hands brushed her butt, lingering. “Sorry,” he gasped. “Fight, don’t apologize,” she commanded, voice firm. “I’ve got you.” His lungs ached, head swimming. “Ms. Valentina…” he slurred. “Lights out,” she teased, tightening. A soft darkness closed in, brief, a faint snore escaping. His fingers twitched against her thigh, body jerking once. When he woke, his head tingled, and she knelt beside him, hand on his chest, eyes amused, smirking. “You okay, Jake?” she asked, voice warm. “Took quite a few guys out with that one,” she teased, tone playful, leaning closer, scent enveloping him. “Bet you’ll be daydreaming about that hold for days.” Jake sat up, cheeks burning, breath ragged. “Yeah… sorry if I… grabbed you.” She laughed, waving it off. “No harm. Happens when you’re fighting hard. You’re tougher than most.” Jake nodded, vowing Not again. “One more?” She grinned, standing. “Reverse headscissor. Might sit on you first,” she teased, giggling. “Hope you’re not already zoning out thinking about it.” They squared off, Jake lunging for her torso. They grappled, her scent and ponytail’s sway distracting him. She spun, dropping him to his back. She straddled his chest, thighs framing his face. “Hold still,” she teased, giggling, then turned, planting her butt on his face. The firm weight pinned him, leggings slick, scent overwhelming. Jake’s heart raced, her curves dizzying. “Oops,” she said playfully. “Let’s spice this up.” She scooted forward, locking her thighs around his head in a reverse headscissor, keeping him on his back. Jake felt crushing pressure, her thighs clamping his neck, muscle unyielding like steel, sending a sharp, pulsing ache through his skull, his throat constricted, each swallow a struggle that burned. Her leggings were warm, slick with sweat, brushing his cheeks, the fabric tacky, clinging tightly, compressing his face, the texture smooth yet gripping, leaving a faint stickiness on his skin. Her thighs’ heat radiated, almost scalding, seeping into his cheeks, making them flush, the muscle’s hardness pressing his jaw until it ached, a dull throb spreading. His pulse thundered in his temples, each beat amplifying the pressure, his lungs burning, chest heaving with shallow gasps that barely filled his lungs. Her scent—jasmine, vanilla, sweat—flooded his lungs, thick and heady, spinning his mind, arousal surging despite the panic, a warm flush spreading through his body. His fingers dug into her thighs, sinking into firm flesh, nails scraping uselessly, the muscle’s density resisting, sending tremors through his arms. The proximity of her glutes, inches away, amplified the sensation, their firmness palpable, adding to the overwhelming heat and power enveloping him. His body tingled, arousal mixing with desperation, limbs heavy, struggling against the vise. I’m not going out, he thought, but her thighs’ crushing grip, her scent, pulled his focus. Jake’s eyes fixed on her butt, mere inches from his face, each cheek a perfect, round globe, sculpted and defined, flexing subtly with each adjustment, the leggings stretched so tight they seemed painted on, their black sheen catching the gym’s light, highlighting every curve and contour. The muscle beneath rippled, taut and powerful, a mesmerizing display of strength, the fabric clinging to every twitch, revealing the slightest shift, a faint crease forming where her glutes met her thighs. Her thighs, framing his view, were thick and muscular, their inner surfaces glistening with sweat, the muscle fibers visible under the leggings, bulging with each squeeze, their power undeniable, the skin beneath glowing with exertion. Above, her abs peeked into view as she leaned back slightly, each ridge chiseled, a bead of sweat rolling down her midriff, catching the light, her skin a warm bronze under the gym’s glow. Her ponytail swished, dark strands fanning out, glinting like silk, framing her partially visible face—green eyes glancing back, glinting with control, lips curved in a wicked smirk, a sweat drop tracing her cheek, her cheekbones sharp and flushed. The sight of her glutes, thighs, and commanding presence, so close, made his pulse race, focus splintering, arousal surging. “Ow…” Jake grunted, voice hoarse. “Push my thighs apart,” she ordered, voice sly. “Or are you too busy picturing this in your head later?” Jake pried at her legs, biceps straining, pushed her hips, brushing her butt. “Sorry,” he gasped. “Get moving,” she teased, squeezing. “Or you’re out, and I know you’ll be replaying this one.” He pushed, her curves taunting. “Escape,” she said, “or it’s over.” His vision wavered. “Can’t… move,” he panted. “Game over,” she teased, flexing. “Goodnight.” Darkness hit, a loud snore echoing, drool pooling. His fingers twitched, brushing her thigh, body jerking. She released him, rolling him onto his back, and sat beside him, unfazed. “Out cold,” she murmured. “Snoring, drooling—textbook.” When Jake woke, his head was foggy. She brushed his cheek, eyes soft, lips glistening, scent enveloping him. “Back with me, Jake?” she asked, voice warm. “Those thighs are my secret weapon,” she teased, smirking sultrily, hinting at her training’s edge. “Bet you’ll be daydreaming about that squeeze for a while.” “Yeah,” Jake croaked, sitting up. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to twitch or grab you.” She laughed, tossing her ponytail, sports bra riding up. “No big deal. You fought hard—most don’t last that long.” Jake smiled, relieved. “Guess I’ve got a lot to learn.” “You’re catching on,” she said, teasing, stretching, thighs flexing, curves accentuated. “You hung in there, Jake. Most guys tap out early. That’s something.” “Thanks, Ms. Valentina,” he said, blushing. “It was intense. Uh… could we do this again?” Her eyes twinkled, leaning closer, breath warm. “Oh, we’re doing this again, Jake. You’ve got grit, and I like a challenge. Next time, keep your eyes off my legs, or you’ll be napping.” She giggled, brushing her leggings, hips swaying. “Deal?” “Deal,” Jake said, grinning. She stood, voice playful. “Finish that essay, or I’ll pin you in class. And since we’re off the clock… call me Emma.” “Emma,” he repeated, savoring it. She grabbed her bag, tossing a wink. “See you in class, Jake. Bet this match keeps you distracted for a bit,” she teased, her tone sultry, lips curving as she sauntered off. Jake watched her go, thighs flexing and butt jiggling. Each step arousing him further and exciting him of promises of another round.

What I mean be the title is that I would love to see a story where Gabe basically fucks a bunch of the women/girls from the Percy Jackson Series. I want it to include: Sally Jackson Annabeth Artemis Thalia As far as kinks go I don't really have limit just don't have Gabe beat them or anything like that I would prefer it to be more of a mindbreak, also keep in mind Gabe is a filthy mess of a man so I want Gabe to fit the Ugly Bastard trope. It can be a series of one shots or a series where he works his way through the girls. For Sally: When Percy is not home she serves Gabe naked and mostly sucks his dick, unless Percy pisses him off then she will be made to eat his ass and drink his piss For Artemis: Would prefer for her to be taken after the third book, maybe she wants to talk to Sally and walks in on Sally happily slobbering on Gabes big smelly cock, either way with Artemis the dirtiest and more degrading you can make it the better. Sloppy rimjobs, watersports, maybe even some public free use where he shares her with strangers. For Annabeth and Thalia: Anytime after Artemis and before the Second Titan War.

Hm. I’m tagging my tech-savvy admins for this, because the password reset link should have worked. Perhaps either @DemonGoddess or @manta2g can shed more light on why that link isn’t showing as valid.

I’ve just tried the links you sent me. The activation link worked, but the password reset link still says it is not valid.

I’ve emailed you links that should let you reset your password.

I’m trying to reset my password, but the link on the email keeps saying Password reset is no longer valid. https://members.adult-fanfiction.org/profile.php?no=1296888334

I would be interested in doing this story.

I’ve emailed you the links to activate your account and reset your password. The instructions are in the body of the email.

As the title states, I'm looking for stories about those topics. I prefer stories that are centered about male characters urinating focus on the concept of desperation and humiliation feature pee as a main story element are not just characters doing pee play during sex Thank you for your recommendations

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45335! Behold! The count of Odd! For thine order swirls back for forth.

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Hello, I’m not sure if I ever received my activation email. I’ve tried to reset my password and it says the link is expired. my profile - https://members.adult-fanfiction.org/profile.php?no=1296887127

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I am coming back from a long hiatus, and I am super excited to see that you’ve been still here all this time, I really appreciate your story which I started reading since all the way back in high school and now I’m in my graduate degree. Gonna start from the beginning again, hope you keep doing what you do! Best wishes to you wherever you are…

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