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The midday sun beats down as we regroup outside the hostel, the group's energy buzzing after the morning's lazy vibes. Jax spots me first, his face lighting up with that possessive grin. He bolts over, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face in my neck, teeth grazing skin before sinking in with sharp love bites—marking me fresh, sucking hard enough to bloom purple bruises. 'Missed you so fucking much,' he growls against my throat, one hand sliding down to squeeze my ass through my jeans. 'Gonna use my hands on you tonight—jerk you off while I pound that hole.' His words send a shiver through me, but I catch Karl's eyes across the circle—dark, pained, longing etched deep as he watches Jax claim me. Karl forces a smile, but it doesn't reach his gaze, fists clenching at his sides. Lunch drags in a crowded bistro, plates of poutine and sandwiches piling up amid laughter and flirty jabs. Afterward, the debate erupts: Jax and Karl push for a movie, something action-packed to kill time before dinner. I counter with the queer-themed show nearby—raw stories of hookups and hidden desires that hit too close. Tensions simmer, voices rising until Lukas and Tomas shrug it off. 'We'll just roam the streets, check out shops or whatever,' Lukas says with a wink, buzzcut gleaming under the light. Tomas nods, man-bun tousled. 'You three sort your drama. Catch you for supper.' Karl and Jax head off to the theater, shoulders brushing as they go, leaving me to wander toward the show venue alone. Halfway there, footsteps pound behind me. Lukas and Tomas catch up, grinning like wolves. 'Forget that show,' Tomas says, clapping my shoulder. 'Our real plan's the bathhouse down the block—steam rooms, slings, all the action. Come with us. We've been dying to test that ass Jax raved about.' My pulse quickens; these two studs—Lukas with his ripped build and Tomas's lean, tattooed frame—have teased me all trip. No hesitation. 'Lead the way,' I say, veering off with them. We've got three and a half hours before dinner—plenty to get wrecked. The bathhouse swallows us in dim heat, lockers clanging as we strip down to towels. The air reeks of sweat, chlorine, and sex—moans echoing from shadowed corners. Lukas wastes no time, pulling me into a private steam room, the haze thick and slick on our skin. He drops his towel, cock already half-hard and thick, veins bulging. 'On your knees,' he orders, voice rough with that German edge. I sink, mouth watering as I wrap lips around his shaft, tongue swirling the head before sucking deep—gagging as he thrusts, hands fisting my hair. Tomas watches, stroking himself, then steps in, feeding me his longer, curved dick alongside. They take turns face-fucking me, spit dripping down my chin, balls slapping my jaw until my throat aches. Lukas hauls me up, bending me over the bench. He spits on my hole, fingers plunging in to stretch—two, then three—curling against my prostate until I'm leaking precum on the tiles. 'Tight from all that breeding,' he mutters, lining up and slamming home raw. His thrusts are brutal, hips snapping, cock dragging deep with each pull. Tomas kneels in front, shoving his dick back in my mouth to muffle my cries. Lukas pounds relentlessly, one hand reaching around to pinch my nipples hard—twisting until I buck. The steam amplifies every slap, sweat pouring as he grunts and unloads first—hot jets flooding my guts, unmedicated and thick, marking me. I stroke myself frantically, cumming once on the bench, ropes splattering wet stone. They switch. Tomas flips me onto my back on the bench, legs over his shoulders. He eats my ass first—tongue lapping Lukas's cum from my rim, sucking it out before plunging his cock in. The angle hits deep, his piercings grazing my walls as he fucks slow at first, building to a frenzy. Lukas straddles my chest, feeding me his spent dick to clean, then jerks me off—rough tugs syncing with Tomas's thrusts. Nipples get worked over again, Lukas biting down while Tomas rails me. Pressure builds fast; I shoot a second time, cum arcing onto my stomach, just as Tomas buries deep and erupts—second load mixing with the first, overflowing to drip down my crack. We stumble to the dark room next, bodies slick and buzzing. Lukas takes me against the wall, lifting one leg to drive in from behind—short, powerful strokes that make my knees buckle. Tomas presses in front, kissing me sloppy while grinding his cock against mine. They spit-roast me proper: Lukas hammering my ass, Tomas throat-fucking until tears stream. A hit of poppers from Tomas's stash loosens everything—my hole clenching greedily around Lukas as he unloads his second time, cum squelching with each thrust. I cum again, untouched this round, spilling between us as the rush peaks. Tomas claims the finale in the maze of cabins, pushing me face-down on a padded table. He mounts me prone, weight pinning me as his cock slides through the mess—fucking the loads deeper, stirring them into froth. Hands roam, one twisting my nipples raw, the other jerking my oversensitive dick. I buck under him, moaning into the cushion, and explode a fourth time—dry heaves of pleasure as he floods me once more, balls pulsing against my taint. Exhausted but insatiable, they drag me to the sling in the main play area—leather straps cradling my body, legs splayed wide, ass exposed and gaping. Lukas and Tomas step back, smirking as word spreads. A couple of strangers prowl in—burly guy with a beard first, then a lean twink with a harness. Beard guy snorts poppers and mounts the sling, his fat cock breaching me easy, sliding through the cum-lube. He fucks steady, grunting as he unloads quick—thick spurts adding to the pool inside. Twink follows, eager and frantic, pounding my prostate until I'm whimpering, his slim dick twitching as he breeds me too—hot cum joining the rest, leaking out in rivulets. We finally peel out of there, my legs jelly, ass throbbing full—four loads from the studs, two more from randos, body spent from four orgasms. The clock shows just enough time, but as we head to meet Jax and Karl for supper, fatigue crashes hard. 'Can't make it,' I text them, hailing a cab back to the hotel. 'Too wiped—gonna crash early.' I collapse into bed, sheets cool against fevered skin, sleep pulling me under fast. Around 8:30 PM, a insistent knock jolts me awake—groggy, eyes bleary as I stumble to the door in boxers, cum still crusting my thighs. I twist the knob, and there stands...

Back on the upper deck, the boat's hum fading as we dock and spill out into the Montreal night, Jax's arm slung heavy around my shoulders. The air's crisp, city lights buzzing below, but my mind's on Karl—his confession still echoing, that warm load of his unmedicated cum sloshing inside me with every step. Jax pulls me close, kissing my neck possessively. 'You're mine tonight, yeah?' he murmurs, but I hesitate, the whiskey giving me courage. 'Actually... Karl asked if I could crash with him instead. Just this once. He's been great, and I kinda owe him.' Jax stops, eyes narrowing, that jealous spark flaring. The crew—Lukas, Tomas, Karl—linger nearby, pretending not to listen. Jax glances at Karl, then back at me, jaw tight. 'Fine. But not before I remind you who you belong to.' He grabs my hand, steering us toward my hotel, the others trailing with smirks. The balcony's perfect—overlooking the bustling downtown street, cars honking, pedestrians milling under neon signs. Jax shoves the door open, the cool breeze hitting us as he spins me against the railing. I'm excited, pulse racing, ass already slick from Karl. Jax yanks my jeans down, briefs following, bending me over the edge. My cock hardens in the open air, the thrill of exposure mixing with the risk. He spits on his fingers, rubbing my hole roughly—then freezes. 'What the fuck? You're already loaded.' His voice drops, suspicious. 'It's Karl's,' I admit breathlessly, pushing back against him. Jax growls, anger flashing as he frees his thick cock, slamming it in without prep. The stretch burns, his unmedicated load from earlier thoughts fueling his rage. He fucks me hard and fast, hips pistoning, one hand gripping my hip, the other fisting my hair to arch my back. The railing digs into my stomach, street noise below oblivious to the raw pounding—his balls slapping my ass, cock dragging through Karl's cum, mixing it into a sloppy mess. 'Mine now,' he snarls, thrusting deeper, hitting my prostate until I'm moaning loud. He unloads with a grunt, hot spurts flooding me deeper, overwriting Karl's claim. Pulling out, he leaves me gaping, cum leaking down my thighs, high on the adrenaline but dry and wanting more. 'Enjoy your night,' he spits, zipping up and storming inside, slamming the door. I slump against the railing, catching my breath, the city lights blurring. Lighting a joint from my pocket, I take a deep drag, the smoke curling into the night as I wait. Minutes later, Karl appears, slipping onto the balcony with a soft smile. 'Heard the commotion. You okay?' I nod, passing him the joint. He inhales, eyes on mine, then pulls me into a gentle kiss. 'Let's get you cleaned up.' Inside, the shower's steam fills the bathroom, water cascading hot over our bodies. Karl soaps my back, hands sliding down to knead my ass, fingers dipping in to scoop out the mixed loads—Jax's and his—rinsing me tenderly. I turn, lathering his chest, thumbs circling his nipples until he groans. We kiss under the spray, cocks hardening against each other, but he pulls back with a grin. 'Patience. Pizza first.' He orders while I dry off, cheese and pepperoni arriving hot and greasy. We eat on the bed, cross-legged, laughing over slices, then pour whiskey neat. Sinking into the couch, Karl queues up a romantic movie—some old flick with sweeping scores and longing glances. His arm drapes over me, pulling me close as we sip, the amber liquid warming us. Halfway through, his hand wanders, fingers tracing my chest, finding my nipples and pinching lightly at first, then harder, twisting until I arch into him. 'These drive me crazy,' he whispers, mouth replacing fingers, sucking and biting the peaks while the movie drones on. Foreplay builds slow and intense—he lays me back, kissing down my body, tongue flicking my navel before engulfing my cock, sucking deep with wet slurps. I return the favor, licking his heavy balls, then taking his length down my throat, gagging softly as he threads fingers in my hair. He flips me onto my stomach, spreading my cheeks to eat my ass again—tongue probing deep, fingers curling inside to hit that spot. Nipples tortured anew as he reaches around, rolling them roughly while prepping me with spit. He mounts me prone, sliding his cock in raw, filling me inch by inch. Thrusts start gentle, passionate, his body covering mine, lips on my neck. 'I love how you take me,' he breathes, grinding deep. Then he pulls me up on all fours, gripping my hips to pound harder, cock slamming home, balls tapping my taint. Sweat slicks us, the bed creaking as he reaches forward to twist my nipples again, pulling moans from me. I climb on top next, riding him reverse—ass bouncing on his lap, his hands on my cheeks spreading me wide, watching himself disappear inside. Finally, missionary—face to face, legs wrapped around him. He thrusts slow and deep, eyes locked, building that shared rhythm. 'Come with me,' he urges, hand stroking my cock in time. We peak together—my cum shooting across my stomach, his flooding my ass in thick pulses, unmedicated and claiming. Collapsed, sticky and sated, we talk in the dim light. 'I want this—us—more than a fling,' Karl says, tracing my jaw. 'Be my boyfriend. Exclusive, or at least... try.' I hesitate, heart twisting. 'I care about you, but the others... it's complicated.' He nods, kissing me soft, but desire flares again. He rolls me over, entering slow from behind, fucking with quiet passion—long strokes until he unloads once more, sealing the night. We drift to sleep entwined. Morning light filters in; we stumble to the shower. Water pounds as he presses me against the tile, lifting one leg to slide in deep. Thrusts quick and urgent, water sluicing over us, his mouth on my nipples—biting, sucking—while he hammers my ass. I brace, pushing back, until he grunts and fills me again, cum mixing with the spray. Dressed in robes, we share breakfast—coffee, croissants from room service—on the balcony. 'Last night was incredible,' I say, then confess: 'Lukas and Tomas... they wouldn't leave me dry. They want me too. I don't want to hurt any of you four.' Karl's face falls, sad eyes meeting mine. 'Go with them if that's what you need. But promise—spend the night with me again. Just us.' I squeeze his hand, the city waking below, possibilities lingering.

That’s not how marginal rates work, is it? As I understand it, the person making $49k would only pay 12% on the first $38k. They’d pay $22% on the income above $48k.

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i'll be vulnerable a guess that we agree that trickledown economics doesn't work the way its proponents assert? It was and is (and was) reasonable to me that income disparity has a cause. It may be as simple as the point you are trying to get across using the article you cite may be over my head. i think i maybe too simplistic (and macro) terms myself. The point i'm trying to make is i see the cause of income disparity as from a point we both hit on earlier: "greed." And, immediately i pause because what may constitute "greed" for me, may not constitute "greed" for another. i'm going to come back to this and connect "greed" with another term being used in our exchange. But, to me, the vid i shared on "who had it better," demonstrates income disparity as a reflection of greed. The money and growth are there, but the smallest and richest group of people is benefiting many times more than the majority middle and lower wage earners. But it was not always that way. There have always been the three levels, but for many years, they all benefitted pretty equally from overall national economic growth. Well, collectively. If it was just me buying from Amazon, the success would be much less. It seems to me, we can point to any large successful company and make the same statement, and we might be able to demonstrate that everyone, in some way, is a "people like you." If one drives or takes any fossil fuel vehicle anywhere, they are supporting oil company successs, and the examples are without end. It becomes a question of degree, no? The organic farmer that we buy from locally may buy the packaging they use for the honey they produce at WalMart (the "affordability problem" you note) or the diesel for their tractor from Exxon, or___________. The trail seems endless? i do not believe there is something as absolute as a "solution to the problem" of what i think of as less than ideal individual behavior. And i'm a believer that asshat is not a permanent condition, but a moment by moment choice we can all make. But that gets into the weeds, i know. i said i'd return to the factor of "greed," because i thing its connected to how one defines "success." Looking at the 2025 tax brackets, the percentage of taxes paid on "income earned" goes from 10% to 37% if "earned income" exceeds $626k. Does everyone making >$626k pay 37% in taxes? Not implying that the tax rates are right or fair, but thinking lower and middle class people pay a larger percentage of their earnings than the Musks of this world. In terms of left over income, who experiences the larger penalty for success, or conversely has less incentive to 'succeed?" At what level of income or wealth does one stop experiencing an inability to purchase enough. Is greed a matter of perspective? Is "rich?" Is it class warfare to tax the person making $48k 12% but the person making $49k 22%? At what point does it become class warfare? While i do not believe there is a perfect answer, a straight percentage paid by all seems more equal. Maybe one step considering a "living wage?" i think the other side of the picture is the challenges of agreeing on what our tax dollars are spent on. i need to eat dinner 🙂

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@Pozzible But: re money and tradition, that's what I mean by motivation. There's MORE motivation to join the two main parties...as Sanders and Trump stated in 2016. And that was intentional by the founders -- by creating a President and not allowing the Prime Minister to be head of state, re populism and checks-and-balances. If the PM were head of state, there would be motivation for splintering. You wrote: "But I’d be willing to bet that the Republican house would have been dissolved during their 8 week tantrum and absence from DC" Why? There wouldn't have been a 'no confidence' vote brought by Reps in the House... they wouldn't have voted themselves out. And Dems don't have a majority. If a faction of a "Rep-like coalition" broke away, it depends. Canada and the UK, for example, allow minority rule. In that case, Reps would have to call snap elections on themselves...which I don't think would have happened. And what would likely happen first would have been a change in leadership (which can happen here too, and did with McCarthy). But even in a change of leader scenario, not even 10% of the remaining "Rep-like coalition" group would have called on Johnson to step down from within. So, I don't see any possible change. And, even if he could have done so in a what-if scenario, why would Trump have called for it? Let's stick with the UK to articulate: Careful What You Wish For Labour has tanked since their 2024 win. Reform (MAGA-equivalent) has gained so much to not only be the leading party but, in seat estimates, are breaking outright majority rule in simulations of "if the election were held today" tests. Turn-over of government -- if that's your thing -- works both ways. Over time, Republicans would gain by it just as much as Democrats. But, like I said above, most parliamentary governments are 5 or more year terms. The average of Germany, France, and the UK is 3.5 years (thanks AI, so I didn't have to calc!!) including snap elections over last 25 years. Our House election is 2 years with Presidential, obviously, 4 years. So things are just as fast or faster, broadly. You said, "If you had a small faction of Greens, the majority wouldn’t be able to automatically prevent bringing legislation to the floor." I've never understood this argument. In my view, if the far-left can't get the moderate/center-left support on something, why would anyone on the R-side of the isle support? And the same in reverse. This argument is usually pushed by populists politicians of both left and right extremes -- it's like the 'tell'. By "bringing to the floor" and, assuming you force a vote, it's used to force others on YOUR side to vote for it or face a backlash -- and possible primary challenge. And it breaks down trust. On top of that, Pelosi brought many bills to the floor and passed them -- which just died in the Senate even with Dems leading that body as they weren't bi-partisan with ability to break 60-vote threshold/filibuster. I asked AI this Q as I remembered the Dem-on-Dem fights: In 2014, Pelosi fully passed 340 bills while the Dem-led Senate passed only 38 of them due to above reason... and Obama was in WH! I claim no correctness to the counts -- just remember the fights.

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I separated this out @tallslenderguy cuz I think we're going down a dual-topic path. Whether more or less extreme, wasn't really what I was trying to get to. But yes, it's more. However, you state above "the 'group' they represent is presenting as much smaller and more extreme." This is purely a progressive-left view of the world. I don't think facts show it. I want to try and use some data to flesh out -- concepts are one thing, but here we're assuming trends and other things to support ideas. To do this, I looked over like 20 polling outfits form the last 2 weeks to find a middle ground -- I won't even use the word "average" -- which also had a lot of detail. So, YouGov has an on-going tracker for this purpose. This particular one is sponsored by The Economist. It used to have a slight R-lean, more recently it's been a slight D-lean. But neither lean was terrible for an opinion poll. These results are not that different from others I've scanned in the last 6 months. Nov 7-10 for reg voters: Trump approval: 42% Do you think the Republican Party is too extreme: yes = 48% Do you think the Democratic Party is too extreme: yes= 48% (not a typo, same) Congressional blame for shutdown: Dem=34%, Rep=36%, Both=24% We are simply in two worlds. There is no real reduction of gain for either side. It's all marginal and it's not moving. Trump's approval is down but not massively in modern terms. It's still 85% among Reps -- so what's shrinking? Remember, off-year elections are less about ideological shifts of voters and more about who turns out to vote. This hits the sitting President's party regardless of who is in the White House. But right, on gerrymandering Reps are doing a lot. And Dems are responding. But this is nothing new. Dems had the House locked up by gerrymandering throughout the late 20th century. It's actually why Reps NOW are doing what they're doing: they grew up in that era and were pissed at Dem gerrymandering, as Dems are pissed now. Example: in 1984, Reagan won the Presidential race by 59%-41% of pop vote, Dems led House with 52% of pop vote but, due to gerrymandering, took 58% of seats.

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