Fun With Alex - Blog Posts
My new favorite quick interview with Alex - is he becoming more comfortable in his own skin?
@differentcatcat @maxwell-demon @m-f1
Lol! Look at his face in every one of these pics - he is having more fun in Cannes than he has anywhere else in years! He is totally in his element! And he’s getting more attention than any other man at the festival. He is this year’s fucking A-bomb. THE BOMB! Poor Anon. I’m sure we’ll continue to hear from her/him anon…
https://x.com/hennethed/status/1924544864802230451?t=5-iY4Qbp5J3jlsMCevrTzQ&s=19
Is alex even doing OK? Wtf is wrong with him. Its like he needs people to sexualize him and he is seeking for attention like ... The fuck?
God forbid a man wears short shorts. Manifesting this for Bill!
It’s all good until Jack gets jealous, but just who the hell is Janice, and wtf is she up to with Alex? Will there be fika?
I thought Jack & Diane were still together - I’m so confused… (a little story about jack & Diane - 2 American kids grow in’ up in the heartland???)
@differentcatcat @maxwell-demon @askarsjustsoswedish
Well, today was apparently a good day for Alex...
@differentcatcat
Alex? Pillion style. Umm, yeah…
To quote the immortal words of “cool rider”:
“I'm looking for a dream on a mean machine
With hell in his eyes
I want a devil in skin tight leather
He's gonna be wild as the wind
And one fine night I'll be holdin' on tight, to a cool rider, a cool rider…
Just give me a black motorcycle
With a man growin' out of the seat, then move aside
Cause I'm gonna ride, with a cool rider, a cool rider…
@differentcatcat @maxwell-demon @askarsjustsoswedish
Look at that smile - he has totally been hugged. A number of his parts have been kissed and hugged. He’s already in fika.
Alex should be hugged
Often and well - I love to hug a long-trunked person, I do.
I’d like a layback in June, too! For my birthday - send me that recipe! Lol! Nom nom nom…
Cinnamon Rolls
A short Alex & Jamesy fic - NC-17
The lucky morning I found my mother’s cinnamon rolls recipe, Alex was up and out early. He had many business-y things to do that I kept my nose out of unless invited for some specific usefulness. He had kissed me goodbye, called me tasty, and was out the door to his own dulcet tones telling me he would be back after he got a workout, “love you, darlin’.” That last bit was all in Swedish before the darlin’, one of my favorite epithets the way he said it. I knew his mind was already on whatever the suits wanted of him.
I made tea for me and plucked two old cookbooks off a dusty shelf and began to look for something different to cook for my best boy. I had fallen into comfortable domesticity. It wasn’t a bad thing since Alex had enough free time that he wanted a playmate who was fun, fuckable and had availability. He showed me, in ways I’d have never imagined, his appreciation for my efforts for him. Honestly, I didn’t miss the hectic hurry of the life and death of the Law. My firm did well and the foundation was thriving with some government funding. I was as active in my vocation as I needed to be.
My mind was wandering this morning. I fleetingly thought about bringing up adoption again with Alex, but I knew what he would say, “Not yet, Jamesy, I need you with me. I love you. When I can do without you a little, we’ll have all the babies you want. We will have to cut down on fucking all over the house, you know.” And he would usually grab me up and twist me into a position that felt so good I gave no other thought to pretty Swedish babies and their diapers. Life doesn’t give anyone everything, and I had so much and a Viking to share it with me. Alex had inherited his papa’s libido apparently, and had I been able, I’d have been barefoot and pregnant every year from the get-go – aaah, seven years ago now. All things considered, we were happy, maybe even happier than one or two of Alex’s siblings with progeny aplenty.
Enough mental blather, ‘Miz Fischer’, let’s bake something. I flipped through old Betty Crocker and out fell pages in my mother’s handwriting. I read “Yeast Rolls and Cinnamon Rolls (Jimmy’s favorite)”. I remember my mother making these rolls for holidays and my daddy begging for the cinnamon rolls made from the same dough. He must have put on ten pounds every winter when my mother was festively in the mood to bake these goodies for him. Such nostalgia in just a written recipe, I could almost smell them baking. Alex would be nostalgic too about that Swedish television series he did when he was about twelve or thirteen and he went to work just for the Kraft Services Cinnamon Buns. Mine would be even better. I got to work with the rising and the kneading. I called on the cats to help, but their napping could not be disturbed. It was early summer and Roast’n’ear and Sweet Fang would want to look rested when doing yoga by the pool. I snickered thinking of the baby oranges in downward dog and set the bowl of dough on a table in the sun to rise heavenward.
(Alex in The Dog that Smiled)
Besides the traditional brown sugar/cinnamon filling, my daddy liked raisins and chopped pecans in the roll and topped with confectioner sugar icing. The all-day affair was baking in the oven when I heard Alex come in. He was sweaty from his workout (he’d rather shower at home with no prying eyes), carrying his business clothes, projecting his voice into the kitchen, “Something smells delicious, besides you, babycakes. Marti says ‘hi’. I have the muffin basket from the gym in the car to be refilled. Gotta make a call. Done soon. I promise, love of my loins.” He faded away upstairs to the office we shared but was now mostly his. And what bliss he left behind. I suppose he knew I would die for him, but he never seemed to take me for granted. He loved me with every word he spoke in my direction. I smiled. He would never think of hugging me when he was that sweaty. Oh, I thought of hugging him. The oven timer dinged.
I generously drizzled the frosting as the two pans of rolls cooled. I cut one from the middle and scooped it onto a pretty little plate with a delicate dessert fork beside that looked ludicrous in the big Viking paw and made us both giggle. I climbed the stairs thinking of the times Alex had chased me up them and I let him catch me.
Alex was on the phone and as near naked as he dared considering his cushioned desk chair just right for his perky Viking butt – he was wearing only his workout shorts. The rest of him was bare and beautiful down to his toes curling on the fluffy rug. When he saw me and the plate in hand, he said into the phone, “Fine. See what you can do. Goodbye,” and gave me a big Alex smile. He reached for the plate and exclaimed joyously, taking small bites and tasting every ingredient. I stood behind him and kissed his nape, savoring the salty taste of sweat on his skin, then wound my fingers in his damp hair and gave his head love scritches as I told my cinnamon rolls story.
Alex was moaning with delight, I thought, and moved to look at him straight on. “So good, Jamesy, jeezus.” I swear he had an orgasmic look on his sweet face. He winked at me and licked the plate. “So good it gave me a hardon.” I gazed in awe as he adjusted his cock. Maybe that’s why my daddy enjoyed the cinnamon rolls so much. I snickered.
Alex grabbed my arm and stood me between his knees and the desk. He unfastened my jeans and pushed them down, I moved them like Miette to the side. Alex took my top over my head that dislodged my hair clippy causing a cascade of auburn curls nearly to my nipples, erect and needing his touch.
“Do you want this cock?” Alex had pushed his shorts down and set me on his huge flat desk calendar he used to doodle on. “I need to feel you, baby,” Alex rasped. His breath was deep and jagged with desire so sharp his cock was jumping. I opened my legs and leaned back on my arms. Alex nuzzled my tits, tongued and sucked my nipples until my breathing was as deep as his and our parts were anointing his calendar month of June. Then the Viking kissed me with love from his depths as he eased his cock into mine. We both moaned the pleasure of the connection we so enjoyed. Alex laid me flat, entwined his fingers in my hair, kissed me hard and fucked me harder. I had my heels resting on his bobbing butt. Holding my head by the hair was not only savagely possessive (very hot in the moment) but kept me from scooting up the desk surface from his equally possessive thrusts with his cock hitting all the way to my lungs (so it felt) and touching/prodding/rubbing all my good spots along the way. My clit was caught just right by the root of his monster cock I called my favorite toy and was screaming silently, throbbing, about to loose the dance of fire down my legs and through the cock to Alex’s balls. He said he could feel my orgasm there. Alex looked at me and gasped, “I know. Fuck. Fuck. Give it now!” He took me, all of me. My pussy squeezed the jiz out of him. My clit danced a jig of joyous release. I called for him plaintively. He groaned like a mighty Viking and ended with a whine of a sated puppy. He lay over me on the month of June, kissing my hot skin where his lips landed.
“Goddamn, baby, your pussy is gonna kill me. That’s just how I want to go.” Alex giggled such that we both shook. “You want me to let you up, babycakes? C’mere then.” He carried me to the shower. I had snagged the hair clippy and stuck my hair up on the way. Alex was very cuddly and let me wash him and kiss him to my heart’s content. He lathered me and washed his hair. We were clean when Alex turned off the body jets and turned on the rain head. He pressed me against the warm wall and got on one knee, my foot propped on his extended knee. The warm rain ran down his back. He looked up at me and smiled. He ran his tongue through my nether lips to call forth the nectar he wanted. He sucked my clit. I wantonly sighed like a harlot and encouraged his tongue deeper by holding his ears. That made him laugh so that with my climax he called forth a sip of cinnamon roll chaser. Alex arose and we kissed in the gentle rain for long moments of romance, absorbed in each other and the love our eyes held.
“I’m thinking of cutting my hair short. What do you opine, sweet man?” I remarked off-hand during the toweling.
“You are so much more than your hair,” Alex hummed. He often hummed when he was happy or so satisfied he wanted to scream about it, but that would be scary. “I love you any way you come, as long as it’s for me.”
“Every time, Swede-ee-pie. I made lots of cinnamon rolls, want another?”
“Fuck, babycakes. Let me have a rest first. I can’t handle another hardon just now. Jeezus, Jamesy.” He teased me.
“Yeah, you’re not as young as you used to be, my gloriously sexy old man.” I ran downstairs, taking my barely younger old bones with me to put another on a plate for my Viking with a sweet tooth to go with his sweet cock.
@m-f1 @askarsjustsoswedish @sigelfire @howaboutboth1
@villageidiotlove @maxwell-demon @mariuch @paradise-sverige
@staywildmoonrise @quweenjo @wonderjinx @beakvp
Hope this gives you a giggle. I am bereft of cinnamon rolls and Alex, alas.
Well, I never thought of them this way before… so much (hmmmm) less painful, perhaps?
@differentcatcat @maxwell-demon @homosekularnost
you’re telling me this rock i’m hitting is a bottom?
It’s a reading for Alex!
@differentcatcat @maxwell-demon hahahahahaha!
My bedtime story last night! The hell with arms in the suds! Sweet dreams…
Remy Is in Love
A triad fic - NC-17
Alex opened his eyes to the morning light and Jamesy’s contented sigh. Ahh, they were in Stockholm sleeping cozily in the big down-covered bed. They had slept late from their drowsy arrival in the wee hours. Pleasantly rested, Jamesy gently laid her head on Alex’s warm belly. Alex smiled and lovingly smoothed her hair. He knew Jamesy favored her morning cuddle to watch Alex’s cock wake for her and meet her well-placed lips for very good morning oral exercise. Sometimes Alex woke with a hardon still, at his age he assumed it should be used. This morning, Alex felt his cock stir from Jamesy’s proximity to it and her warm breath. It was all he could do to refrain from either pushing her lips closer or just grabbing her up, moving between her legs and fucking her to Jeezus. She was so fuckable in the mornings.
He did neither. Jamesy grew a little impatient with the unstimulated cock growth. She murmured, “C’mere you fucker,” and flicked her tongue over the foreskin, lifted her head and devoured all the cock her mouth would hold.
Alex moaned, “So warm, baby. Oh fuck, you’re so good.” He reached his long arm across Jamesy’s curled up butt and handily asked her legs to open. He took the fingers on his big Viking paw and gave first one, then two to Jamesy’s hungry cunt that was lubed and ready for them just from the taste of his hard cock being licked and sucked.
“Let me fuck you, pretty girl,” Alex deeply breathed his desire. “I want to feel you come.”
Alex gave her “nice ass” a good slap so Jamesy yelped. She came off his seeping cock, turned on her back and spread her legs to welcome him. “Kiss my yummy cock breath,” she teased him, but he did kiss her with his kissable lips and the tongue that could coax an orgasm from a rock.
“Oh fuck me hard, sweet man,” Jamesy whispered as Alex pressed his cock between her nether lips and eased it all in. Jamesy moaned with delight as Alex began to thrust, circle his own “fine ass” and grind her clit. Oh my! Oh yes! Jamesy was so tight and wanton this morning. She felt so good. Alex was so big and throbbing this morning. He felt so good. The bed gave its own sighs as they fucked each other hard, demanding a good come. Alex gasped, “Baby, give it! Fuck! Fuck, I’m … uh huh. Oh yeah, that’s it!”
Jamesy felt his deep thrusts give way to quick shallow ones and his cock erupted inside her glad pussy, coming just as hard as he was. They grunted at each other with the pleasure that was just theirs. They kissed à deux, Jamesy’s arms around Alex’s ribs, holding him tight. They preferred their morning devotional in missionary position with an extended postlude to celebrate those who had come. Amen.
Alex withdrew with a sweet peck and elongated beside his precious. “Babycakes, I texted Remy. I wonder why he wasn’t home to greet us. He didn’t say he was away.”
“He doesn’t answer my calls much anymore, sweet man. He must be busy at something. Or remember you said he was dating heavily. Maybe he’s in love,” Jamesy lamented.
“I wonder if he even still lives here. I miss his face.” Alex arose and took Jamesy’s proffered hand. They went to shower.
Remy opened the door and looked inside. He whispered, “Alex?” and go no answer. He brought inside as many bags of groceries as his arms could carry. Remy of the triad was feeling guilty. He had made himself busy with falling in love, stepping off the cliff into playacting monogamy with Sami, the beautiful, smart transwoman he had met shortly before Alex’s last visit to his city digs that Remy was to look after as his home. Alex’s “boyfriend” had ducked Alex at every turn, avoiding physical contact without reasonable explanation. Alex had excused his best friend as roiling in the throes of the all-encompassing falling in love. Alex remembered his own Stockholm scarcity for Remy when he was courting Jamesy. He had been in Atlanta for two years wooing his love. But he’d been honest with Jamesy from the git-go, assuming if she would take him, he should show her all of him.
Remy had talked to Alex at least as often as he’d needed him. After Alex married, their relationship was heightened from best buds to real lovers, not just beat off buddies. Remy had been ignoring Alex’s calls, not taking Jamesy’s. He knew he had to tell Sami the truth of him and the triad, even if he wanted to curtail future triad sex. He had already nearly moved in with Sami, too much too soon. He was smitten so, he was not writing nor booking gigs. And he was late with the groceries he should have stocked in for Alex and Jamesy yesterday. Remy was realizing he was a mess. He heard Alex’s shower and hastily put items away and set out the tasty quiche and fresh fruit he’d gotten from the deli down the block. He was making the kaffe when robed, smiling Alex and Jamesy almost skipping down the hall, spied Remy and ran to embrace him, laughing.
Remy returned the affection with a sigh of relief. He knew who he was, even still after knowing he loved Sami. He had needed reminding. Then Alex kissed him with one of those instant hardon kisses he bestowed on the very few. Remy gasped and pushed Alex away. Jamesy looked between them and saw Alex’s face. She could read all of it in his eyes. He registered surprise, then a split second of anger, and remained sad-eyed at the sting of his hurt heart. Jamesy began to cry quietly and turned away, unwilling or unable to share Alex’s pain.
Alex looked at Remy, who had hung his head not wanting to own his behavior. Alex turned to Jamesy and went to take her in his arms, “Let’s dress and go out, my love.” He whispered in her ear, “I need you, my Jamesy girl.”
Jamesy wiped her eyes on her robe, nodded “yes”, and took his big Viking paw. Alex, eyes flashing, admonished Remy, “I assume you will explain yourself when we get back.” Jamesy knew Alex could well have cussed Remy to the ground and told him to get his shit and get out.
She spoke out loud tangled in her own thoughts, “Am I going to have to take up the piano? Alex looked at her and followed her unspoken train of thought. He grinned and said, “Not unless you want to. We’ll sell the son of a bitch and enjoy the “play” money.” They left the apartment shortly without a word to Remy.
Remy put the food away and called Sami, whom he had left lazing in her comfortable loft. He was in tears when she answered. “I haven’t told you about me like I should have,” Remy blubbered, “I’ve fucked up royally. I may be homeless and friendless and worthless to you.”
Sami was royally confused regardless of royal fuck ups. She eventually calmed Remi so he could briefly explain. He started with “I’m not writing or gigging or working at all,” and ended with prose of love for Alex and then Jamesy because she belonged to Alex, then he made the caveat that he loved Sami, or so wanted to and wanted to do it well. He had the presence of mind to blame Sami for naught but gave her no credit for her own life before he came into it, which, like anyone’s of approximately middle age, would have been fraught with mistakes, turmoil, heartbreak (and in Sami’s case, learning herself and how to deal with the world as her own woman).
Sami was an industrial engineer. She thought logically and she had a big heart. If she were honest, she would admit that she could see herself with Remi as a romantic partner, but she couldn’t say she loved him exactly. She certainly didn’t want him to love her to the exclusion of everyone else. She told him so. Yes the sex was great, she replied, but other parts of life go on. Finally, she told Remy to take today to make up with his friends/lovers and maybe invite her to dinner tomorrow for everyone to meet. “That’s assuming you can pull your head out of your ass, dearest. And I’ve never heard you make your music. We’ve ignored too much. One more thing – if I am to like your friends, you tell them whatever you want about me. You know I prefer love to find a way.”
Remy put his phone on the counter and walked over to the piano. However did he find rational people who would care about him? He thought that maybe he was catching up from having a crazy hippie mother who might still shout at him, “Bring me another lover!” Remy began to play and sing the ballad he wrote for Alex and Jamesy (with his triad verse). He hoped he could make things right. He sang it again and repented his actions toward Alex. He heard the door open and sang the triad verse louder.
Jamesy screeched gleefully, “Remy!” Alex strode to the piano, picked up Remy by the shoulders and gave him another kiss which produced again the instant hardon that Remy rubbed against Alex. “I’m so sorry, lover,” Remy repeated in Swedish between Alex kisses. In a few minutes Alex was hard too. Jamesy sat and put her feet up.
Standing at the piano, Alex and Remy freed their respective hardons and continued kissing roughly. They began to fondle each other’s cock. Shirts came off. “I so fuckin’ missed you, boyfriend,” Alex moaned. They were entranced in each other, concentrating on a shared climax, ending in cum running down their chests. Breathing so hot and heavy as to fog up the nearest window. Remy howled, “Fuck me! Alex! Fuck! I love you!” and shot all over Alex where Alex aimed it. The feel of Remy’s jumping cock and his cum running down his pecs got Alex off hard. It took fuck happy Remy by surprise and he did not corral Alex’s writhing cock properly. Alex grunted his pleasure and shot cum everywhere.
“Hell, I’ll have to clean that off the piano!” Remy rued those Alex-never-just-a-little cum shots so out of control. “That’ll take the finish off!” He grabbed his shirt and began to mop hurriedly. Alex took his shirt and assisted after he’d wiped Remy off his chest. “We used to be so neat about this, remember?” Remy looked at Alex and began to giggle. Alex took Remy’s face between his big Viking paws and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. “I will always love you, Remy,” Alex told him softly.
Those “young” studs then started tickling each other and laughing, went to the kitchen and used dishtowels to wipe off the remainder. Jamesy was cackling with laughter at her boys from her relaxed perch. The shirtless ran and kissed her all over until she mirthfully screeched, “Stop it. You’re gonna make me pee.” Alex paused to consider and ceased the kissing, acknowledging it would be difficult to clean up he declared self-righteously. Remy stopped giggling and kissed Jamesy deeply, “I’m so sorry, Jamesy. I love you. And I swear I’ll answer your calls if I’m not fuckin’ fuckin’.” They were at home with each other.
Remy was quiet as he doodled on the piano. Alex took him a beer and Remy caught a big Viking paw, “Of course I love you. While I’m trying to be in love, could we not have triad sex? I don’t mean what we just did, I mean butt fucking, cosmic orgasmic, pissing hot ménage à trois? I don’t know where I am.”
Alex kissed his head, looked at Jamesy and soothed Remy, “Whatever you need, boyfriend. Jamesy is agreeing. We want you to be happy, but not without us in your life – or in this flat we call home. Do you still live here?”
Alex chuckled as Remy fidgeted on the piano bench. “I do. I need to bring Sami here and share more of me.” Remy continued by giving an enthusiastic overview of Sami, mentioning that Sami was fluent in English, Swedish and some French (which he used to tease her), that she no longer took hormones and had decided against surgeries for herself at this point, and that he had her permission to tell whatever needed telling.
Alex had joined Jamesy on the couch. “So Sami has a girlcock like Marti at the gym.” Alex spoke matter-of-factly. “I am excited to meet her.” Remy teasingly shot Alex a glare. Alex blurted, “Not for that. Remy. Stop it. Sami sounds great. I am excited to meet her.”
It was decided that Sami should come to dinner next evening and all questions would be answered truthfully, no matter the discomfort of the triad. “Love is where you find it. It’s hard to kill, and why would you want to,” Jamesy reminded.
Remy played piano into the night. “I love this Steinway grand Alex bought for me,” Remy opined and launched into “I Love a Piano. (Irving Berlin 1908 – Easter Parade 1948)” Remy was well versed in songs from movie musicals and some Cole Porter. Jamesy and Alex would join in the ones they knew. So very wholesome, it’s a good thing Remy got all the flying cum off the instrument.
***** Judy Garland and Fred Astaire in Easter Parade *******
The triad all had a hand in the dinner, being mindful of Sami’s preferences, insisted by Remy. Remy took public transit to fetch his love. Jamesy, born into the drivin’ and cryin’ City of Atlanta, often forgot the ease of Stockholm’s conveyances until she was going somewhere on her own she couldn’t walk to and from. Remy and Sami would be back shortly.
While they were alone, Alex pulled Jamesy close and kissed her enough to make her twat tingle. “I’m glad for Our Remy, darlin’. If he just doesn’t lose his mind being in love with love.”
“We won’t be the subject of anymore love songs, sweet man.” Jamesy smiled and tiptoed for another kiss. “If Sami stays over, can we still play with Dala?”
Alex laughed and bent to kiss her neck. He put a big Viking paw under her sweater and fondled her breast through her bra. He thrust his clothed crotch into hers and moaned, “Dala needs exercise, little fuckbunny.”
They were smoothing their disheveled selves when Remy and Sami walked in. Everybody spoke at once. Sami was tall and willowy with pleasing features. Androgyny, gender blending, comfortable in one’s own skin – no wordy explanation was necessary. Sami was herself, smart, beautiful – a delight with humor. After introductions Sami put her hand gently on Remy’s chest, “Sweetheart, I could never take you away from Alexander Skarsgård!” She laughed and winked in Alex and Jamesy’s direction. Remy kissed her. He had learned from the master, Alex, to charmingly reward his love for every show of affection.
Pleasant conversation was rife. The culinary artistry was consumed. Champagne toasts were made to all parties in varying combinations and Remy toasted his favorite piano. Alex had never seen Remy quite so joyous as he was this evening. Jamesy and Sami found they had much in common as working women in professions that were still a man’s world. There was good-natured joking and much laughter. It seemed that any puzzling questions of sex, love, and rock-‘n-roll would be asked privately. No one seemed uncomfortable in the least.
The time passed, Jamesy rose from the table, glad they had opted for the most butt-comfortable dining chairs but needing to stretch her legs. She began to clear and everyone assisted, making short work. Alex suggested, “Rembo, why not play a song or two for Sami while Jamesy and I put his away?”
Remy almost clapped his hands in glee, “C’mon beautiful, I’ve been working on something, let me show you.” He took Sami’s hand.
“I’ve heard everything you’ve recorded, Remy, but nothing from your lips.” Sami took Remi’s arm and kissed his cheek. Remy beamed. He was the sunshine in the room.
When they had repaired to the music nook, out of sight of the kitchen, Alex loaded the dishwashers in two shakes of a lamb’s tail as Jamesy washed the delicate serving dishes and crystal. Alex stood behind Jamesy and put his arms around her. “We really like her, don’t we, babycakes?” Alex whispered.
“We do. Glad for Remi,” Jamesy sighed as she cuddled her back into her Viking while keeping her arms in the suds.
Alex kissed Jamesy’s neck and moved his hands under her sweater. He was familiar with most of her underwear and deftly unfastened her bra and cupped her breasts in his big Viking paws. Jamesy moaned softly to Remy’s love song accompaniment.
Alex tweaked her nipples and moaned into her neck, “You want my hard cock, fuckbunny?” He pressed it into Jamesy’s “nice ass”. She had ceased washing dishes. Alex turned her to face him and in one movement lifted her onto the clean counter. She flung suds off her hands and put them around Alex’s neck, in his hair. They kissed urgently, tongues tasting lusty ardor from each other. Hot fire between them, hips barely moving. Alex groaned, “Fuck, c’mere,” put his big Viking paws under her thighs, her legs and arms around him, and carried her to bed.
“We’ll let Remy and Sami make the kaffe tomorrow.” Jamesy and Alex had flung clothes in all directions. Alex moaned agreement with his favored left breast in his mouth. Dala would be long in the exercise arena tonight.
If you do it, we may come…
I really feel like tumblr’s fallen down on the job in not properly celebrating this very important holiday
![wikipedia entry for Cake and Cunnilingus Day that reads: "Cake and Cunnilingus Day is a satirical holiday celebrated on 14 April as a female response to Steak and Blowjob Day, which is celebrated on 14 March.[1][2] It was created in 2006 by web designer, writer and filmmaker Ms. Naughty and has since been adopted in multiple countries as a day to emphasize female enjoyment and honor women."](https://64.media.tumblr.com/dadf290a558cf589b1e2e602e09da4d5/1b3106b41d9715db-5c/s500x750/90aa62db0a87df224087ddb6cb2ab7fcdf2628fc.jpg)
MMMMMMMMMMM....
just saying... @differentcatcat
I want one!
Thank you Northman’s Fanpage!
@differentcatcat @askarsjustsoswedish @maxwell-demon
Another article on Pillion:
Instinctmagazine.com
@differentcatcat
Honey, we all want to be Lilith. But seriously, there has to be some Lilith in each of us.
Hi, I'm Lilith.
Alex as Eric Fucking Northman. I was to play Lilith, but they cut my big scene. I'm still in therapy over it. I was so good to go.
Coachella coming up - next 2 weekends! Lady Gaga as top entertainer, and with Charli xcx headlining on the main stage both Saturdays, and FKA twigs sub-lining on main stage both Friday's. Any bets that we might see Alex and/or Bill attending at least one of the weekends, if not both?
@differentcatcat @maxwell-demon @rockifresa
Goofing & giggling?
Alexander Skarsgård on the set of "Disconnect"
Hey there, Cat - nice ass! @differentcatcat
Order up! One hot Alex to go! Super-size Skarsghetti, with Swedish meatballs & sausage covered in Skarsauce (what a dish!), and add Askars berry tallcake for dessert! Nom nom nom! @differentcatcat
Enough said…
@differentcatcat - He just arrived - just caught site of you - what a smile - get him home with you now!