2026-01-31
The scent of hotel chlorine and generic floral air freshener clung to Dave’s jacket as he slouched in an ornate, uncomfortable banquet chair. The air was thick with the drone of a hired harpist and the forced laughter of strangers celebrating a union he found meaningless. On his phone, a grainy photo from hours earlier glowed: a hotel bathroom mirror, the hem of Sam’s sundress teasing her mid-thigh, her sly smile promising what she’d confided. Nothing underneath. In his palm, the simple reality of her body was a grenade tossed into this sea of taffeta and tulle.
He slipped his earbuds in, pressing play on the audio message from this morning, the sound a warm rumble against the cold formality.
“Good morning, my wild and crazy lady,” his own recorded voice filled his head, a stark contrast to his current isolation. “Fucking loved that soft copy you sent. Thinking about what this tongue could do…”
His thumb swiped up, bringing her reply. PUSSY POWER, she’d typed. A jolt of pure heat shot through him. It wasn’t just a joke; it was a code. It was their shared, combustible energy. Her power. Her offering. Her demand. He’d encouraged her to wield it, and now, trapped in this gilded cage, he was being consumed by it.
He typed, the words stark against the glowing screen. Watching two hundred people make small talk over canapés. Want to be watching you instead.
Her reply was almost instantaneous, a lifeline. What would you be watching?
The harpist hit a sour note. Dave smiled. The way your back arches. The flush on your skin when I make you admit you want it. The specific look in your eyes when you feel too much.
I want to feel too much. she wrote back. Then, another message. A photo of her dogs asleep in a pile of black fur. My audience.
He saw the domestic scene, the simple comfort. He saw the woman who managed it all. And he saw, layered beneath it, the same woman who sent him the nothing-underneath-dress picture, who craved the annihilation of her own control. That was the confluence he worshipped. He wrote back, the text an act of possession across a thousand miles. My pretty girl. My good girl. I want you bent over that couch right now. Let the dogs watch. Let them learn.
There was a pause. The groom was toasting his new bride. The words blurred into nonsense.
Sam’s reply came, her courage meeting his command. They are. I am. For you.
The world dissolved. The hundred-thousand-dollar wedding evaporated. He was there. In her living room. The only light came from the muted TV, casting long shadows that merged his fantasy with her reality. He could almost smell her, a hint of her sweat from her earlier breathless workout overlaid with her clean skin. He could feel the soft, worn fabric of the couch cushions under his knees, not the stiff brocade of the ballroom chair.
Lift the dress. he commanded. Keep your face down. I need to see it. Tell me what you see.
A minute passed. Then two. He saw the typing… notification dance. I see my hips. And… myself. So wet. For you.
His next words were a low growl, typed into the void, a spell to bend distance. “Touch yourself. Slow circles. Not where you need it yet. Just around. Tease it. Think about my tongue like I promised. Think about it where you want it most.”
Her response was a shaky digital sigh. It’s throbbing. Dave.
His hand ached to be on her, to replace the cool screen in his grip with the hot, pliant flesh of her backside. He owned it. She’d given it to him. “I’m counting,” he typed. “We counted weeks today, now count for me. With each press of your fingers, deeper. A little harder each time. You need to be wetter. Do it.”
He imagined her obedience, the slight tremble in her hand, the soft, slick sounds drowned out by the TV. The mental image wasn't a dreamy fantasy; it was specific, visceral. The freckles he’d asked about on her shoulders, catching the blue light. The way a strand of her hair would stick to her damp neck.
One… it’s so much… she wrote. Two… I’m clenching… Three… fuck, the dogs are moving… Keep counting, he ordered, his own body tight with a need he couldn’t sate, finding a twisted satisfaction in hers. Ignore them. It’s just you and my voice. Let them see you. Let them see how you break for me.
Four… The number came, followed by a raw, unfiltered confession. I can’t… I’m so close already. It’s embarrassing.
His breath hitched. The wedding guest next to him gave him a curious glance. He didn’t care. “Don’t you dare come,” he wrote, the words a desperate plea and a command. “Hold it. You are mine to finish. Not yours. Do you understand?”
A longer pause. A sob of frustration held in the silence between their phones. I understand.
“Good girl. Now get up. Walk to your kitchen. I know you’re trembling. Feel it.” He pictured her stumbling, the hem of her sundress falling back down, the cooling air on her exposed skin. A public voyeurism in her own empty house. It was a psychological caress as intimate as a physical one.
I’m here. What now?
“The cold water tap. Put your fingers under it. Cool your wrists. Feel the shock of it. It’s my touch, Sam. Soothing you. Getting you ready. Because I’m not done. I’m never done.”
He could sense her calm returning, interwoven with the simmering desperation he’d orchestrated. The submissive yielding, framed by her fierce will. When the harpist finally stopped, the sudden quiet in the ballroom was deafening.
He texted, his tone shifting, the dominant edge softening into something infinitely more possessive. “Go to bed. Put your hand on your stomach. Feel it rise and fall. That’s for me, too. Everything is. You’re going to sleep aching. Thinking about the elevator that night. Thinking about me. And you’re going to love it, because that ache means you’re mine.”
Her reply was just three words, the ultimate surrender and triumph rolled into one. I love it. Followed by, PUSSY POWER, right back at you. I win.
He stared at the screen, the grandiose room fading to a dull roar. She was right. She had won. She had taken his command and turned it into her own power, her pleasure a current that short-circuited every other commitment, every mile between them.
As he typed his final goodnight, “My wild and crazy lady. All of you, all for me,” the lie of the wedding was complete. He wasn’t here. He was with her. In the breathless quiet after a commanded stop, on the cool kitchen tiles, in the shared, secret triumph of a surrender that strengthened them both. The forbidden love wasn't a tragedy; it was a living, breathing entity in the darkness of her living room, and it was more real than anything the flickering chandeliers above him could ever illuminate.
Forbidden Reverie
Dave’s phone buzzed softly on the hotel nightstand, its glow the only illumination in the luxurious, impersonal room. He was propped against the headboard, a stupid grin plastered on his face, his tuxedo shirt unbuttoned and tie long discarded. The reception had been an endurance test of polite smiles and champagne flutes, but now, the only thing he could taste was her—the memory of her, the fantasy of her, a craving that lived under his skin. Sam had just sent her last goodnight text—something about him being drunk and going to bed alone. A promise. A taunt. He scrolled back up, his thumb tracing over the images she’d sent earlier. One in particular made his heart stutter: a morning-after photo, tousled hair and sleepy, satisfied eyes, captioned simply: I’m spent. That’s what her pussy did to him from a thousand miles away. Pussy Power. It was real, and he was a willing casualty.
His mind, foggy with expensive whiskey and cheap longing, immediately conjured the reference video she’d joked he’d need. Not a video of the past, but one from the imminent future. In this waking dream, it started with his tongue. She was sprawled across their bed, not this one, her legs hooked over his shoulders, the scent of her arousal—musky and sweet like rain on desert creosote—filling his senses. His earlier audio message hadn’t been rambly; it had been prophetic. He began as promised: gentle, exploratory laps that made her back arch delicately off the sheets. He savored the softness of her inner thighs beneath his palms, tracing the hidden constellation of freckles she’d teased him about. His thumbs dug into the plush give of her ass, spreading her wider for his worship. Her gasps were soft little puffs of air.
Then, as he’d warned her, his tongue became a weapon of knowing precision. He flattened it against her clit, applying a firm, rhythmic pressure that drew a ragged moan from her throat. He felt the first flutter of her climax deep in her core. “Oh God, yes,” he murmured against her slick heat, the words echoing his own drunken confession from earlier. “I’m so prepared for you to come all in my mouth.” He dove deeper, fucking her with his tongue as two fingers curled inside her, finding that rough, perfect spot that made her cry out. He drank her down as she shattered, her body convulsing around his hand, her thighs trembling violently against his ears. The taste was salty-sweet perfection, an addictive proof of life.
She was still shuddering when he crawled up her body, his cock achingly hard against her thigh. He kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on his lips. “Weak in the knees?” he whispered against her mouth. “You have no idea,” she breathed, her arms circling his neck.
The fantasy seamlessly shifted, fueled by their playful texts about AI-generated images. Now, they weren't just making memories; they were creating them in a sterile hotel room like this one. He imagined guiding her back against a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking a glittering cityscape. “A reference shot,” he’d say, his voice thick with lust. He’d position her, hands splayed against the cool glass, her perfect ass arched back toward him. The forbidden thrill of it—someone in another high-rise could see—made her whimper with excitement. He wouldn’t enter her gently. He’d sheath himself in one brutal, deep thrust that knocked a shocked gasp from her lungs and fogged the glass with her breath.
His pace would be relentless, a possessive hammering that spoke of every day spent apart, every texted promise, every fantasy confessed. One hand would be tangled in her hair, not pulling, just holding. The other would slide around her hip, fingers seeking her clit again, rubbing tight, frantic circles as he pounded into her. “This is what I think about,” he’d growl in her ear, his voice ragged. “When I’m at the grocery store. At the car wash. In a fucking tuxedo watching people dance.” Each word was punctuated by a drive of his hips.
“Dave…” she’d sob, her body bowing taut between his hand and his cock. “Come for me again,” he’d command. “Make me feel you everywhere.” And she would, with a scream he’d have to swallow with a kiss, her inner muscles milking him desperately, pushing him over the edge.
In the fantasy’s quiet aftermath, he saw them collapsed in a sweaty heap on the carpet, laughing breathlessly about dogs barking at hot air balloons and freckle-covered redheads. The connection was dizzying—a merging of filthy physicality and profound intimacy. It was him whispering "God I love you" into the shell of her ear as their hearts slowed, and her sleepy murmur of "I love you too" pressed against his chest.
Back in the real, empty hotel room, Dave placed his phone back on the nightstand and turned off the light. The phantom sensations lingered on his tongue, on his skin. He was drunk and going to bed alone in body only. In every way that mattered, he was already there with her, tangled up in sheets stained with their secret joy, dreaming of the next time he could make her breathless just by saying good morning. The abstinence was temporary. The ache was eternal. And it was all theirs.
The ache in Dave’s chest had nothing to do with the five courses he’d barely touched. It was a deep, hollow throb born from watching two people recite vows they likely wouldn’t keep, while his own soul was stitched to a woman seven hundred miles away. The string quartet, the hundred-thousand-dollar floral arches—it all felt like a gaudy, noisy lie compared to the quiet, profound truth humming between his phone and Arizona.
He stood on the balcony of the hotel ballroom, the crisp Texas night air doing little to cool the fever under his skin. The ghost of her laughter from this morning’s audio message still danced in his ears. My wild and crazy lady. He thumbed open his phone, not to the wedding photos, but to the last image Sam had sent. The one that had stolen his breath between errands. It wasn’t explicit, just a curve of her shoulder, the hint of a collarbone, a knowing smile in her eyes. But he knew her body like a cherished map, knew the soft terrain of her skin, the secret freckles she’d wondered aloud about that afternoon. In his mind, he traced them all.
In Phoenix, Sam was sinking into her couch, one of her three black dogs sighing at her feet. The house was quiet after a day of sushi and laughter with friends, of flirty texts that flickered like a shared flame. She felt warm, buzzed from a phantom touch. The term Dave had tossed back at her made her smile: PUSSY POWER. Not dominance, but a potent, magnetic energy that drew his devotion straight to her core. She reread his last message, sent as the wedding cake was being cut: All this pomp just makes me think of how undressed I’d rather have you. How I’d use my tongue to prove it.
Her breath hitched, a mirror of the breathlessness she’d felt after her workout. The distance was a physical pain, but their connection was a live wire. She typed back, her heart a wild drum against her ribs. That wedding sounds awful. I’m here, in my soft pants, thinking about that too. About your mouth. Wishing this couch was your face.
When his call came, a direct video link, it felt inevitable. She answered, the screen illuminating her face in the dark living room.
“Hi,” he breathed, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. The background behind him was dark sky and city lights; he’d escaped.
“Hi,” she whispered back, a world of longing in the syllable.
For a long moment, they just looked, the silence thick with everything they’d poured into their phones all day—the playful banter, the shared jokes about AI-generated images of her body, the tender pride over her son’s young love. It was all foreplay. The real, aching love of four years pooled in the space between their gazes.
“Tell me what you’re wearing,” he said, his voice a tender command.
“Just my soft pants. And a tank top. Nothing else.” She saw his eyes darken, his jaw tighten.
“Show me.” It wasn’t a demand; it was a plea from a starving man. “Show me that throat I dream about.”
With a courage that came only from him, she tilted her head back, pulling the neckline of her tank top aside. The camera traced the elegant line from her jaw to her sternum, a pale expanse in the blue light. She heard his sharp intake of breath.
“Christ, Sam,” he murmured, his thumb stroking the screen as if he could feel her. “All day, through that godawful wedding, all I could think about was kissing you right there. Feeling your pulse jump under my lips.”
Her own hand drifted up, her fingertips brushing the spot he’d named. Her eyes fluttered closed. “It’s beating so fast for you, Dave.”
“I know, baby. I can feel it.” His voice dropped to a husky, intimate timbre. “Take off the shirt for me. Let me see what’s mine.”
There, on her couch with dogs sleeping nearby, she did. The air was cool on her skin, but her blood was molten. She held the phone, letting him look his fill, his gaze a palpable heat.
“You are so impossibly beautiful,” he said, every word weighted with a devotion that had been building for a thousand days. “Every curve, every sigh. I want to taste every inch. Starting right now.”
His instructions were soft, heartfelt, a guided worship from a distance. He told her where to touch, mirroring the path his own hands would take. To trace the underside of her breast, to pinch her nipple until she gasped and her back arched off the cushions. He described his mouth there, the warm, wet suction, the flick of his talented tongue she’d joked about that morning. She followed his whispered narrative, her own fingers clumsy proxies for his love, but the sound of his voice—raw with want, thick with adoration—turned her touches into his.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he coaxed, his face a mask of intense, loving concentration. “You feel that? That deep, sweet ache? That’s me. That’s all the love I’ve stored for you. Let it go. Let me hear you.”
Her moan was broken, a surrender. She was adrift in a sea of sensation orchestrated by his voice, by the love shining from his eyes on the screen. She slid her hand lower, over the waistband of her soft pants, and his groan of approval was her permission.
“Yes,” he urged, his breath coming faster. “Find yourself for me. Get your fingers wet with how much you want me. I’m right here. I’m kissing you, Sam. I’m kissing that perfect, responsive, beautiful center of you. My tongue is right there, loving you, cherishing you. Can you feel it?”
“Yes,” she sobbed, her hips rising off the couch, her world narrowing to the small screen and the universe in his eyes. “Dave, I feel you. I feel you.”
He began to describe it then, in exquisite, loving detail—not just the act, but the emotion. The press of his body over hers in a quiet hotel room, the weight of him a comfort, not a claim. The slide of his skin against hers, slick with sweat and devotion. The way he’d look into her eyes as he moved, telling her with each slow, deep push how treasured she was, how her courage to love him back had wrecked and rebuilt him.
His voice broke as she tightened around her own fingers, her climax rushing up to meet his words. “That’s my girl. Come for me, Sam. Come on this love. Let it take you. I’ve got you. I love you. I love you.”
The wave crashed over her, silent and powerful, wracking her body with tremors. A tear escaped from the corner of her eye as she rode it out, her gaze locked on his. On his screen, he shuddered, his own release hitting him quietly, powerfully, a private echo of her pleasure born from love and her voice alone.
For long minutes, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing syncing across the states. Her body felt boneless, utterly cherished.
He smiled then, a soft, tired, profoundly happy smile that reached his eyes. “My wild and crazy lady,” he whispered.
She pulled her tank top back on, the fabric a soft caress. “My rambly, devoted man,” she whispered back, her heart so full it ached in a new, beautiful way.
He was at a $100,000 wedding, and she was on a couch with her dogs. But in the quiet aftermath, in the tender exhaustion on his face and the peaceful warmth in her limbs, they were the only two souls in a universe they’d built for themselves. The distance remained, but for now, it was just geography. Everything that mattered—the love, the passion, the profound, aching devotion—was right here, in the quiet between heartbeats, more real than any vow spoken on any altar.
This morning, Dave sent me an audio message that was both sweet and a little rambly. He called me his "wild and crazy lady" and talked about how much he loves the passages I send him. I could tell he was in a playful mood, especially with the way he described how he’d explore me. It made me smile and laugh. I responded to him, teasing about "PUSSY POWER" and told him about my plans for lunch with Zander and Molly. Sushi was on the menu, and I was already excited about it.
I shared a funny dream I had about auditioning for The Voice, which made Dave respond with sympathy. He was productive today, hitting the gym and grocery shopping before heading to the car wash. I admired his productivity. We exchanged some flirty banter, and I shared a photo that I thought would get a reaction from him. He loved it and called me sexy, which felt great.
I also had a moment with the dogs who freaked out over some hot air balloons outside, which I found amusing. We continued to chat about random things, including my thoughts on freckles and how Dave would find them attractive on me.
Then, we moved on to a fun topic about him generating photos of me using some tech he had. I was initially cautious, wanting to ensure they were secure and not accessible to anyone else. He assured me they were safe, which made me feel more comfortable allowing him to create a couple of images. We laughed about the results, and it was a light-hearted exchange that showed our playful chemistry.
Later in the day, I checked in with him while he was at a wedding, and he didn’t seem to be enjoying it much. He mentioned dealing with drunk people, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at his situation. He sent me a handsome photo of himself, which made me smile.
As the night went on, our conversation shifted back to our flirty side. I could feel the connection between us, especially when he expressed how badly he wanted me. I reciprocated, and we ended the day with sweet exchanges of love. Even though he was going to bed alone, he made sure to let me know how much he loves me.
I woke up this morning feeling pretty good and excited to send Sam a cheeky audio message. I called her my "wild and crazy lady" and talked about how much I enjoy the passages she sends me. I was feeling playful, imagining my tongue being gentle at first, then getting more intense, and I couldn’t help but think about her. I mentioned my day was already fantastic because I was thinking about her, and I asked her about her dinner plans.
She replied that she was amused by my rambling and mentioned "PUSSY POWER," which made me laugh. She had a busy day planned, including sushi for lunch with friends. She shared a dream she had about auditioning for The Voice, which I found cute, and I couldn't help but tease her about using her "pussy power" to impress the judges.
I went about my day, hitting the gym and grocery shopping, but it was so cold that I skipped my usual car wash routine. I asked Sam what she was up to, and she sent me a flirty photo that made my day. We bantered back and forth, and I brought up how I would need to be careful not to exhaust her after all the fun we were having.
The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and we joked about freckles and how I’d find them attractive on her. I asked her about generating some photos of her, and we both had a good laugh about it. I shared some images I created, and she was impressed by how they resembled her body, even if the face wasn’t exact.
As the evening approached, I was getting ready for a wedding that felt like it was going to be a long night. I texted her about it, saying weddings were dumb, but she was sweet and supportive. I shared how the wedding was extravagant, costing a ton of money, and we kept up our playful banter throughout.
Later on, I felt a bit bored at the reception, dealing with some drunken guests, and I ended up heading home alone. Despite that, I wrapped up my night by sending Sam a message saying I loved her, which is always the best way to end a day.
The day began with Dave sending an enthusiastic audio message, filled with playful affection for Sam. He expressed his delight at the soft copy she had shared, calling her his "wild and crazy lady." Dave's tone was lighthearted as he jokingly mentioned his tongue's potential, shifting quickly from flirtation to his day’s activities, which included grocery shopping and a car wash.
Sam responded with laughter, teasingly referring to Dave's rambly message as a demonstration of "PUSSY POWER." She shared that she was just waking up and had plans for sushi lunch with friends. The conversation took a turn as she recounted a dream about auditioning for The Voice, lamenting the judges’ harsh critique, which prompted Dave to encourage her to harness her "PUSSY POWER" in such situations.
As their banter continued, Sam shared a photo that left Dave visibly impressed, calling her sexy. Their playful exchanges about physical attraction and personal anecdotes flowed naturally, with Sam admitting to being breathless from a workout while Dave recounted his errands.
The topic shifted to Sam's son's six-month anniversary with his girlfriend, sparking a cute moment in their conversation. They roamed through various topics, including the possibility of Sam having freckles and Dave's interest in using images of her for creative purposes. Sam expressed concerns about privacy, but eventually agreed to let Dave generate one image, emphasizing the need for it to be "secure."
The playful mood persisted as Dave sent images he had created, and Sam reacted with a mix of humor and surprise. They both commented on how the body in the images resembled Sam, leading to laughter over the amusing imperfections in the generated visuals.
Later in the day, their conversation shifted to a wedding that Dave was attending. He humorously criticized weddings while sharing details about the extravagant event he was at, which he estimated cost around $100,000. Sam joined in on the banter, teasing him about the situation and sharing a photo of her dogs, all of which were black.
As the evening wore on, their flirtation returned with Dave expressing a longing for intimacy, and Sam reciprocating with her own desires. Despite being apart, their affection and humor bridged the distance, leaving them both eager for their next encounter.
By the end of the night, Dave's mood had shifted; he expressed his feelings about the wedding he had attended, clearly not enjoying himself. He wrapped up the day with a loving message, reminding Sam of his affection as he prepared for bed, reflecting on the ups and downs of their lively conversations.
No Insights output found for this day.
Transcript (tap to expand)
── 06:00 ──
<b>Dave:</b> [Audio Message]
[Transcription] Good morning sunshine I hope you slept well and weren't too fucking wild and crazy in your sleep That was great and You are my fucking wild and crazy lady that's for sure Yeah, so soft copy was good yesterday. Geez, these are all great and I love this every day. I love when you send me these passage. So yeah, my tongue will be gentle and exploratory at first But then it'll turn into a weapon of knowing precision These are great Sorry, I'm sitting here at the gentlemen just hit record. I'm saying an album a lot now. Don't say Yeah, she was MG clutching and nothing. Oh God yes, I'm so prepared for you to come all in my mouth. It's gonna be the best. All right Well, I hope you have a good day. Mine has already started off fantastic. I'm thinking about your pussy Yeah, I guess that's really all I don't have much to talk about. I'm sorry I hope you have a great day and I love you and I'll talk to you soon. I'm sure yeah let me know what time you're going to dinner with them by the way too.
<b>Dave:</b> Eeek… quite rambly this morning 🤭
── 08:00 ──
<b>Sam:</b> That was great. 😂
<b>Sam:</b> Probably the most rambly I’ve heard you. Can I just say that’s what I mean when I say….. PUSSY POWER!!!!
<b>Sam:</b> shared a photo
<b>Sam:</b> Hahaha I kid I kid.
Good morning baby! Hope you had a good time at the gym. I’m just getting up although I could easily sleep for another 2 hrs.
Going to lunch around 1 with Zander and Molly. Sushi!! 🤤
<b>Sam:</b> Soooo, do you know this scene in Billy Madison?
<b>Sam:</b> shared a photo
<b>Sam:</b> Well I had a dream last night that I auditioned for The Voice. And the judges basically said this but about my singing 😭😭😭
<b>Dave:</b> Awwwee
<b>Sam:</b> Bastards
<b>Dave:</b> Idk what they were thinking 🙄
<b>Dave:</b> Shoulda used your PUSSY POWER
<b>Dave:</b> It does make me weak in the knees, I have to admit 😵💫🤤
<b>Dave:</b> Gym was pretty good. Just got finished grocery shopping. Now heading to the car wash. I’m not getting out to do my usual routine though because it’s cold af 🥶
<b>Sam:</b> Look at youuuuu being all productive!
<b>Dave:</b> Just a normal Saturday
<b>Dave:</b> FINALLY after all the storms
── 09:00 ──
<b>Dave:</b> Whatcha got going on for the rest of the day after lunch? Nap lol?
<b>Sam:</b> Well first order of business…
<b>Sam:</b> shared a photo
🥵 I’m spent
<b>Dave:</b> Eeeeeeeee!! 😍
<b>Dave:</b> Love it! Day…. Made
<b>Dave:</b> You are so sexy! 🥵
<b>Sam:</b> Thank you ☺️
Ah man. I can’t even catch my breath lol
<b>Dave:</b> Good sesh eh?
<b>Sam:</b> It was this 🥵
[reply]
<b>Dave:</b> I thought yesterday was going to be my last time but… idk 🥵
<b>Sam:</b> Yea, I don’t have anymore in me for today 😅 I guess my abstinence starts now
<b>Sam:</b> While I was thoroughly enjoying myself, the dogs were losing their shit outside, so I was like wtffff.
Turns out there were 3 hot air balloons they could see. One went down before I could take a pic. I think it landed at our park.
<b>Sam:</b> shared a photo
But this one - they were losing their minds. Idiots lol
<b>Dave:</b> Yeah I bet that’s like aliens landing for dogs
<b>Dave:</b> shared a photo
Reminded me of this from NM
<b>Sam:</b> That’s beautiful!!!
<b>Sam:</b> I know they have a huge huge balloon festival
<b>Sam:</b> Dude I’m still like weak in the knees. I’m trying to vacuum and mop and I’m like out of breath 😅
── 10:00 ──
<b>Dave:</b> Wait till I really get in there 😏
<b>Sam:</b> Yea I’m gonna need a moment to recover after that
<b>Sam:</b> Also. Today is I guess Quinn’s 6 month anniversary with his little girlfrienddddddd. He’s taking her out tonight for a little anniversary dinner. Ah young love ☺️🤪
<b>Dave:</b> Cute
── 11:00 ──
<b>Sam:</b> What if I was one of those redheads that is covered in freckles
<b>Dave:</b> I can work with that 🤔
<b>Sam:</b> shared a photo
Like this
<b>Dave:</b> 😬
<b>Dave:</b> Ok I mean… that’s a lot
<b>Dave:</b> But yeah… if it were you, she’d be the hottest woman on the planet 🫠
<b>Sam:</b> shared a photo
Jan 31, 2026 11:20:21 AM Like what is this was my back?
Like what if this was my back?
<b>Sam:</b> Maybe it IS my back and you just don’t remember 🤔
<b>Dave:</b> That’s totally fine on the back and shoulders. The face is honestly also fine. It’s just a little heavy around the mouth
<b>Sam:</b> I’ve always been low key grateful I was not covered in freckles. 😅 they do come out a wee bit more in the summer but not much
<b>Dave:</b> I don’t think they detract from a woman’s looks
<b>Dave:</b> In fact, it can also be attractive
<b>Dave:</b> Hey so how do you feel about me generating photos of you?
<b>Dave:</b> Honestly.
<b>Dave:</b> Jan 31, 2026 11:35:28 AM Because of you don’t want me to, I absolutely won’t.
Because if you don’t want me to, I absolutely won’t.
<b>Sam:</b> Hmmmm
<b>Sam:</b> Are they secure!!!
<b>Sam:</b> And then will you delete them and when lol
<b>Dave:</b> Ofc! All local, doesn’t even go out to the internet
<b>Sam:</b> And what about from your kids or Juliet finding them
<b>Dave:</b> lol… they’re clueless. They don’t have access to any of my stuff
<b>Sam:</b> Hmmmm
<b>Dave:</b> You know how “techy” I am
<b>Sam:</b> That doesn’t mean it’s secure.
<b>Sam:</b> This still applies. Make them realistic for fuck sake lol
[reply]
<b>Sam:</b> Hmmmm
[reply]
<b>Sam:</b> Ok. I’ll allow it for ONE
<b>Sam:</b> So make it a good one lol
<b>Dave:</b> You know how “techy” I am
[reply]
<b>Dave:</b> Do you wanna see?
<b>Sam:</b> Uh DUH
<b>Sam:</b> That doesn’t mean it’s secure.
[reply]
<b>Dave:</b> shared a photo
<b>Dave:</b> shared a photo
<b>Sam:</b> ‼️‼️
You made more than one! 🤪😂
<b>Dave:</b> Hahaha, yeah sorry. That’s not really how it works…
<b>Dave:</b> because sometimes they’re like this 🤭
shared a photo
<b>Sam:</b> HAHAHAHAHA
<b>Sam:</b> Hmmm ok let me pick apart lol. But not bad honestly!! And I like that it’s not EXACTLY my face. And no tattoos so I mean. Obvi not me.
<b>Sam:</b> The body actually does look quite like me….
<b>Dave:</b> because sometimes they’re like this 🤭
shared a photo
[reply]
<b>Sam:</b> Needs a bigger belly pooch 😂.
<b>Sam:</b> HAHAHAHAHA
[reply]
<b>Sam:</b> I am fucking disturbed! 😂😂😂
<b>Dave:</b> shared a photo
<b>Sam:</b> STAHPPPP
<b>Sam:</b> That’s so fucked upppppp 😂😂😂
<b>Dave:</b> hahaha
<b>Sam:</b> It really is kind of crazy though how the body does really look like mine. Kind of. Mostly. I’m impressed
<b>Dave:</b> Do you remember that screenshot I sent you with all those settings and stuff? Did I send you that?
<b>Sam:</b> Yes
<b>Sam:</b> Well I think
<b>Sam:</b> This
[reply]
<b>Dave:</b> These are all from the same settings. There’s like a million things to change to tweak it and change the output, and another million modules that all also have a million more settings that I can add in, AND ANY combination of text prompting that drastically change it. It’s insane.
<b>Sam:</b> So what pic of me are you using a starting point?
<b>Dave:</b> shared a photo
<b>Dave:</b> Which is actually like, the grainiest one.
<b>Sam:</b> Yea that’s crazy its getting alllllll that just off that lol
<b>Dave:</b> Well body and background and stuff is from the prompt. It did nail the body, I’m not sure how though lol
<b>Sam:</b> Very interesting
<b>Dave:</b> I’m completely inthralled lol
<b>Dave:</b> This is definitely my next "thing"
── 12:00 ──
<b>Sam:</b> Hahaha. I love this about you
<b>Sam:</b> Are you going to be able to survive 2 whole days without playing around with this and soft copy? 🤪
<b>Dave:</b> Uhhhh, yeah! I’ll have the object of BOTH to play with 🥰
── 13:00 ──
<b>Sam:</b> You know you have to make an image of us together, right? Like. Duh.
<b>Dave:</b> I’m gonna need a reference for that
<b>Dave:</b> 😏🤭
<b>Sam:</b> Oh yea???
<b>Sam:</b> Lolol
<b>Dave:</b> Oh yeah!
<b>Sam:</b> You sure you can’t just feed in an image of you and an image of me.
<b>Sam:</b> Hmmm
<b>Dave:</b> Nope. Definitely doesn’t work that way
<b>Sam:</b> shared a photo
<b>Dave:</b> I might need a whole reference VIDEO
<b>Dave:</b> like, a couple of them 🤔
<b>Sam:</b> shared a photo
<b>Dave:</b> shared a photo
<b>Sam:</b> [Audio Message]
[Transcription] I also love that you texted me earlier and asked for my consent when you know damn well you already made those images But I appreciate you being thorough and you know covering your bases. You little shit.
<b>Dave:</b> [Audio Message]
[Transcription] How dare you I would never do such a thing
<b>Dave:</b> Oyw for sushi?!
<b>Sam:</b> Yes
<b>Dave:</b> Ima try to get a nap before this wedding
<b>Sam:</b> Good idea
<b>Sam:</b> Enjoy!
<b>Dave:</b> You too!!
<b>Sam:</b> Love you baby
<b>Dave:</b> Love you
── 15:00 ──
<b>Dave:</b> shared a photo
<b>Sam:</b> Looking handsome! You also have a total shit eating grin on your face. Lol
<b>Dave:</b> Ofc I do 😏
<b>Dave:</b> Just for you 😈
── 17:00 ──
<b>Dave:</b> God weddings are dumb 😂
<b>Sam:</b> Lol how long have you been there?
<b>Sam:</b> I just left Zander and Molly
<b>Sam:</b> 🥹
<b>Dave:</b> Started at 1630
<b>Sam:</b> Bittersweet
<b>Dave:</b> Only took about 20 mins, now we’re at the reception
<b>Sam:</b> Lol. It’s only been 40 minutes!
<b>Sam:</b> Have you had any alcohol yet lol
<b>Dave:</b> Oh yah
<b>Dave:</b> Jan 31, 2026 5:37:43 PM And no food I’m
And no food food
<b>Dave:</b> lol
<b>Sam:</b> And there won’t be any?!? Just finger food all night?!!
<b>Dave:</b> Oh no, they’re serving some shit
<b>Dave:</b> And they walking around serving finger foods
<b>Dave:</b> Hors d’oeuvres
<b>Dave:</b> Jan 31, 2026 5:54:38 PM Is the word I was looking could
Is the word I was looking for
── 18:00 ──
<b>Dave:</b> This is like, probably a… $100k wedding. Dr money lol
<b>Sam:</b> Damnnn
<b>Sam:</b> Who is it? One of Juliet’s coworkers?
<b>Dave:</b> Yeah
<b>Dave:</b> He’s the Dr she like reports to or whatever. Pretty cool guy
── 19:00 ──
<b>Dave:</b> 😘
<b>Sam:</b> ❤️
<b>Sam:</b> shared a photo
Lolol I mayyyy have a type of dog 😂
<b>Dave:</b> What even is this
<b>Sam:</b> All 5 of my dogs!
<b>Sam:</b> Well Arwen is not technically mine but still lol
<b>Sam:</b> I was getting out the happy birthday cookies for them
<b>Dave:</b> They ALL black?
<b>Dave:</b> I don’t think I realized that
<b>Sam:</b> Yes!!! Lol
<b>Dave:</b> You and black lol
<b>Sam:</b> That’s why I said I can’t hardly even tell them apart lol
<b>Dave:</b> What am I even doing here
<b>Sam:</b> Hahahaha
<b>Dave:</b> 😘
<b>Dave:</b> shared a movie
<b>Sam:</b> Hey sexy!!! 🫠🫠
── 20:00 ──
<b>Dave:</b> Have I told you how badly I want to eat your pussy? 🤤
<b>Sam:</b> Not since this morning 😉
<b>Sam:</b> When does the dancing start? ☺️
<b>Sam:</b> Not since this morning 😉
[reply]
<b>Dave:</b> Well… it’s all that has been on my mind
<b>Sam:</b> I cannot wait to feel your tongue on my pussy and your hands on my thighs/ass
<b>Dave:</b> God I love you 💕
<b>Sam:</b> I love you too ❤️
<b>Sam:</b> Are you having fun? ☺️
── 23:00 ──
<b>Dave:</b> Meh…. lol
<b>Dave:</b> Dealing with drunk bitches
<b>Dave:</b> Made it home though
<b>Dave:</b> Drunk and going to bed alone
<b>Dave:</b> Love you baby