|
Cascade Crypto Carnage #1:Taboo Tangle of Sisters, Sluts, and Stimulants
|
Chapter 1: Arrival at Alpine MeadowsThe gravel crunched under the tires of Jeff's beat-up old Ford pickup as it rolled up the long, winding drive to Alpine Meadows Ranch. It was a Monday afternoon in late October, the Washington sky a crisp blue streaked with wisps of cloud, and the 17,000 acres of rolling meadows and dense evergreen forests stretched out like a private kingdom. The main house loomed ahead—a sprawling log-and-stone mansion with wraparound porches, flanked by horse arenas, an indoor pool house that gleamed like a jewel in the sunlight, and a scattering of cozy cabins and outbuildings dotting the landscape. Hidden beneath it all were secret rooms and a few levels of underground bunkers Dave had built "just in case," but that was a story for another day.Dave stepped out onto the porch, shirtless as usual after a morning of chopping wood by the fire pit. At 6'4", with broad shoulders rippling under sun-kissed skin and those piercing blue eyes that could make a woman forget her own name, he was the picture of effortless manhood. His jeans hung low on his hips, the faint outline of his thick, 10-inch cock—soft for now, but always promising—visible against the denim if you knew where to look. He wiped his hands on a rag, grinning as the truck came to a stop."Jeff! Carmen! Get your asses over here," Dave boomed, his voice deep and warm, carrying across the yard like a rumble of thunder. He strode down the steps, enveloping Jeff in a bear hug that lifted the shorter man off his feet for a second. Jeff laughed, clapping Dave on the back— they went way back from some crypto forums online, back when Dave was just starting to stack his billions.Carmen climbed out slower, her eyes widening as she took in the place. She was 32 to Sarah's 30, a near-carbon copy of her sister but dialed down a notch: 5'5" instead of 5'7", slimmer through the hips and waist, not quite the lush plumpness that made Sarah a walking wet dream. But damn, she had that same adorable face—heart-shaped with full, pouty lips, high cheekbones, and big hazel eyes that sparkled with mischief. Her long dark hair was loose today, tumbling over her shoulders in waves, and she wore her signature cutoff jean shorts, frayed high on her creamy thighs, paired with a loose tank top that did little to hide the lacy black bra underneath. As she shifted her weight, the shorts rode up just enough to tease the curve of her ass cheek. She wasn't plump like Sarah—not yet, anyway—but there was a softness to her, a desperation in the way she moved, like she was always hungry for something more."Jesus, Dave, this place is... fuck," Carmen breathed, her voice a husky drawl as she hugged him. She pressed in closer than necessary, her tits—pert C-cups compared to Sarah's heavy DDs—squishing against his bare chest. Dave chuckled, patting her back, but he caught the way her eyes flicked down, lingering on the V of his hips."Sarah's out at the equestrian center till evening—got a new filly she's breaking in. Come on, let's get you two settled." He grabbed their duffels from the truck bed like they were feathers, leading them inside. The foyer opened into a great room with vaulted ceilings, a massive stone fireplace, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the meadows. But he didn't linger on the opulence; instead, he headed straight up the wide oak staircase to the second floor.Their guest suite was across the hall from the master bedroom—a massive space with a king-sized four-poster bed draped in plush flannel sheets, a sitting area with leather armchairs by a private balcony, and an en-suite bathroom bigger than most apartments, complete with a rain shower and a deep soaking tub. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined one wall, stocked with everything from ranch manuals to dog-eared thrillers, and a mini-fridge hummed quietly in the corner, stocked with craft beers and chilled whites.Carmen dropped her purse on the bed, her cheeks flushing as she spun in a slow circle. "Holy shit, this is nicer than our whole apartment. Jeff, baby, look at this tub—I could drown in there." But her eyes weren't on the tub; they were on Dave, watching the way his back muscles flexed as he set their bags down. A familiar ache bloomed between her legs, hot and insistent. It had been months since Jeff had really satisfied her—his average five-incher just couldn't hit the spots she craved anymore. And Dave... fuck, he was everything Jeff wasn't. That bulge in his jeans wasn't imagination; it was real, thick, and she could already picture it stretching her.Jeff flopped onto the bed, kicking off his boots. "Man, Dave, you're spoiling us. We were just gonna crash on your couch for a week, tops."Dave waved it off, leaning against the doorframe with that easy confidence. "Couch? Nah, this is your spot now. Stay as long as you want—Sarah's been bugging me about family time anyway. Dinner's on in a couple hours; I'll fire up the grill out back. Steaks, if you're not veggie or some shit."Carmen laughed, a throaty sound that made Jeff glance up. "Veggie? Please. Gimme a rare one, Dave. Bloody as hell." She bit her lip, holding his gaze a beat too long, and Dave's blue eyes twinkled—he noticed, alright. But he just nodded, pushing off the frame. "You got it. Holler if you need anything." He shot Jeff a wink. "Towels are in the linen closet. Make yourselves at home."As the door clicked shut, Carmen let out a shaky breath, her panties already damp. "Fuck, Jeff, did you see him? Shirtless, all sweaty from chopping wood like some lumberjack god. And that... outline. Jesus." She peeled off her tank top, revealing the black lace bra that cupped her tits just right, nipples already pebbling against the fabric.Jeff watched her, a mix of arousal and something darker—resignation?—in his eyes. He knew he couldn't compete; hell, part of him didn't want to. The thought of Carmen getting railed by a real man, like Dave... it twisted him up in the best way. "Yeah, babe. Dave's built like a tank. You into that?"She smirked, shimmying out of her shorts, her loose boy shorts underneath riding low on her hips, the pink cotton peeking out as she bent over to rummage in her bag. "Into it? Honey, I'd climb him like a tree if Sarah wasn't around." She straightened, tossing him a fresh towel. "Shower first—you're driving. Then you can eat my pussy while I pick out something cute for dinner. Make me cum thinking about that big dick of his."Jeff's cock twitched in his jeans—half-hard at the command. Carmen had him wrapped, and he loved it. "Bossy as ever," he muttered, but he stripped down quick, heading into the bathroom. The shower hissed on, steam curling out as Carmen dug through her clothes. She wanted to look good tonight—sexy, but not too obvious. Something to make Dave's eyes linger.Under the hot spray, Jeff soaped up, his mind wandering to the same forbidden territory. By the time he emerged, towel around his waist, Carmen was sprawled on the bed in nothing but her boy shorts, legs spread wide, one hand lazily circling her clit through the damp fabric. Her hazel eyes were half-lidded, that pretty face flushed pink. "Get over here, Jeff. Taste how wet your future brother-in-law makes me."He dropped to his knees without a word, burying his face between her thighs. She smelled like vanilla and need, her folds slick and swollen as he lapped at her, tongue flicking her clit. "Mmm, yeah... just like that. Imagine if it was Dave's tongue, huh? Big strong hands spreading me open..." Carmen moaned, arching her back, her fingers tangling in his wet hair. She ground against his mouth, chasing the release, picturing Dave's blue eyes locked on hers while he devoured her. It didn't take long—Jeff was good at this part, at least. She came with a shuddering gasp, thighs clamping around his head, her juices smearing his chin."Good boy," she purred, pushing him away gently. "Now dry off and put on those boxers I like—the ones that show off your ass. We're gonna make an impression."An hour later, they wandered downstairs, the scent of grilling steak wafting through the open windows. Carmen had gone for subtle slutty: a soft white crop top that hugged her tits, ending just below her bra line to show a sliver of underboob, and high-waisted pajama shorts in gray cotton—loose enough to ride up when she sat, tight enough to outline her pussy lips if she bent over. Her hair was up in a messy bun, a few tendrils framing her adorable face, and she'd swiped on some gloss that made her lips look even more fuckable. Jeff trailed behind in his boxers and a faded tee, looking every bit the comfortable slacker.Dave was at the kitchen island, flipping burgers—wait, steaks—shirt still off, a light sheen of sweat from the grill making his abs glisten. "There you are. Beers?" He cracked open three from the fridge, handing them over with that grin.Carmen took hers, her fingers brushing his deliberately, lingering. "Thanks, big guy. Smells amazing. You always cook like this?" She hopped up on a stool, crossing her legs so her shorts gaped just enough—pink panties flashing for a split second. Jeff noticed, but said nothing, sipping his beer and watching."Only when company's worth it," Dave replied, eyes flicking down for a heartbeat before meeting hers again. "Sarah's due back any minute— she'll take over the sides. She's the real chef around here. Makes a mean apple pie that'll make you weak in the knees."Carmen leaned forward, elbows on the island, her crop top dipping to give him a peek at cleavage. "Apple pie, huh? Bet it does. So, Dave... you ever get lonely out here in the middle of nowhere? All this land, just you and Sarah? No neighbors dropping by for... fun?" Her voice was light, teasing, but those hazel eyes said everything. Hungry. Probing.Dave chuckled, plating the steaks with tongs that flexed his forearms. "Lonely? Nah. Sarah keeps me plenty busy. But yeah, we got neighbors. Kasia next door—she's always swinging by with pies and shit. Cute kid, lives off her daddy's money. Blonde plumper with a smile that lights up the damn meadow."Jeff perked up a bit. "Kasia? Sounds hot."Carmen shot him a look—playful, but possessive—before turning back to Dave. "Plumper, huh? Like my sister? Sarah's got that juicy thing going on—thick thighs that could crush a man's skull. You into that?" She uncrossed her legs, recrossing the other way, another flash of pink. Her heart raced; she could feel her nipples tightening under the thin fabric.Dave's gaze held steady, but she saw the twitch in his jeans—that monster stirring just a little. "Guilty. Love a woman with curves you can grab onto. Sarah's my queen—those hazel eyes of hers turn green when she's feeling frisky. Puts her hair in pigtails and it's game over." He paused, flipping a steak. "What about you, Carmen? You and Jeff keeping the city spicy?"She laughed, low and throaty, sipping her beer. "Spicy? Baby steps. Jeff's sweet, but... sometimes a girl wonders what it'd be like with someone who could really fill her up. You know?" Jeff shifted on his stool, his face flushing, but he didn't interrupt. If anything, his eyes gleamed with that secret thrill.Before Dave could respond, the front door swung open, and Sarah breezed in, her cheeks rosy from the ride back. She was a vision—5'7" of pure, plump perfection in riding boots, tight jeans that hugged her thick thighs and that gorgeous juicy ass like a second skin, and a flannel shirt unbuttoned just enough to tease the swell of her big, heavy tits. Her long dark hair was loose, windswept, framing that adorable face: full lips curved in a smile, hazel eyes sparkling. No makeup needed; she glowed. "Hey, strangers! Oh my God, Carmen—get over here!"The sisters collided in a hug, tits mashing together, laughter filling the kitchen. Sarah pulled back, holding Carmen at arm's length. "You look amazing. Those shorts—scandalous. Jeff, good to see you too." She pecked his cheek, then turned to Dave, rising on tiptoes to kiss him deep, her hand sliding possessively over his bare chest. "Missed you, stud. Steaks ready?"Dave wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her plump curves against him. "Just in time, babe. Girls' night already?"Sarah grinned, those hazel eyes flickering toward green as she glanced at Carmen. "Maybe. But first, food. Carmen, tell me everything—rent still a bitch?"As they all settled around the massive oak dining table—steaks sizzling, Sarah whipping up garlic mashed potatoes and a fresh salad—the conversation flowed easy. Stories from the city, Dave's latest crypto wins (vague, of course), Sarah's horse tales. But under it all simmered the tension. Carmen couldn't stop stealing glances at Dave's crotch, especially when he shifted in his chair, the denim straining. Once, their eyes met across the table, and she didn't look away—licking her lips slow as she speared a bite of steak. "God, Dave, this is so... satisfying. Firm on the outside, juicy inside. Just how I like my men."Jeff choked on his beer, coughing, but Sarah just laughed, oblivious or maybe not. "Carmen, you're terrible. Dave's all mine, you know."Dave's blue eyes locked on Carmen's, a smirk playing on his lips. "Plenty to go around in this house, ladies." He didn't say more, but the air thickened, charged with promise.After dinner, as the sun dipped low over the meadows, painting the sky in pinks and oranges, they migrated to the great room. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows. Sarah curled up on the couch next to Dave, her head on his shoulder, one thick thigh draped over his lap—innocent, but the way her hand traced lazy circles on his abs said otherwise. Carmen and Jeff took the loveseat opposite, her bare feet tucked under her, shorts riding up again. She "accidentally" let her legs part just a bit when she laughed at one of Dave's jokes, giving him—and Jeff—a clear view of that pink cotton clinging to her damp folds."God, this place is paradise," Carmen sighed, stretching her arms overhead, her crop top lifting to flash underboob. "No wonder you never leave, Sarah. Though... with a man like Dave, who would?" Her eyes dipped south again, staring outright now at the growing bulge in his jeans. It was thickening, the outline unmistakable—long, girthy, pressing against the seam like it was pissed at being caged.Dave shifted, not hiding it, his hand casually adjusting. Carmen's breath hitched, her pussy clenching. Busted. But instead of looking away, she met his gaze, biting her lip with that pretty smile. "Something on your mind, sis?" Sarah murmured, her voice sleepy, but her eyes were green now—playful, aware."Just admiring the view," Carmen whispered, and Jeff squirmed beside her, his own erection tenting his boxers pathetically by comparison.The night wore on with wine and whispers, the flirting a low hum beneath the surface. By the time they all stumbled upstairs—Sarah tugging Dave into the master with a murmured "Night, you two"—Carmen was soaked, her mind racing with what-ifs. In the guest suite, she pushed Jeff onto the bed, straddling his face without preamble. "Eat me again, baby. And this time, pretend you're him."Jeff obeyed, tongue delving deep as she rocked, moaning Dave's name under her breath. But as she came, grinding down hard, she knew it wasn't enough. Not anymore.Chapter 2: The Neighbor's KnockTuesday dawned bright, the ranch alive with the distant whinny of horses from the arena. Sarah was up early, kissing Dave goodbye before heading out to the equestrian center—her passion, her escape. "Don't let Carmen wear you out too much," she teased, her pigtails bouncing as she tied them up, hazel eyes flashing green. In her yoga pants and a cropped hoodie, her plump body jiggled just right—thick thighs rubbing together, juicy ass swaying as she grabbed her keys.Dave watched her go from the porch, coffee in hand, his morning wood still half-hard from their quickie in the shower. At 10 inches fully erect, it took Sarah both hands to stroke him properly, and she loved it—gagging on the head while her heavy tits bounced. "Love you, plumper," he called, and she blew him a kiss.By mid-morning, he'd chopped another cord of wood, shirtless again, sweat trickling down his chiseled chest. Carmen and Jeff were still lazing—slackers through and through— but she emerged around 10:30, drawn by the rhythmic thunk of the axe. Today, she was in a sundress, light blue cotton that skimmed her slimmer curves, the hem flirting mid-thigh. No bra, her nipples poking through like invitations, and her hair in loose waves. Jeff was inside, nursing a hangover beer."Damn, Dave," she called, leaning against the porch rail, her dress gaping slightly at the neckline. "You make manual labor look pornographic. That axe... all that power." Her eyes were glued to his crotch again, where his jeans strained from the exertion—and maybe her stare.He paused, wiping his brow, axe over one shoulder like a warrior. The bulge was there, semi-hard now, snaking down his thigh. "Morning, Carmen. Sleep okay? Suite treat you right?"She sauntered down the steps, hips swaying, stopping just close enough to smell his musk—wood smoke and man. "Like a dream. Dreamed about this place... and its owner." She tilted her head, that adorable face all innocence masking filth. "Tell me, Dave—Sarah ever get jealous of all the eyes on you? With a package like that, bet women stare."He set the axe down, stepping closer, towering over her. His blue eyes bored into hers, voice low. "She knows she's got the best claim. But staring? That's harmless fun." His gaze dropped to her tits, nipples diamond-hard. "You staring, Carmen?"Her cheeks burned, but she didn't back down—desperation fueling her. "Guilty. Jeff's... adequate. But you? Fuck, I bet you ruin women for good. How does Sarah even walk after?"Dave laughed, a deep rumble that vibrated through her. "Practice. And love. But yeah, it's a handful." He adjusted again, deliberately this time, letting her see the full outline—thick as her wrist, veined. Carmen's mouth watered, her thighs pressing together.Before she could push further, a car door slammed—the neighbor. Kasia hopped out of her sleek Range Rover, a wicker basket in hand. She was 28, a plump blonde dream with wavy hair cascading to her shoulders, framing a cute, round face dusted with freckles. At 5'6", she carried her curves like a gift: big, juicy ass poured into yoga leggings that left nothing to the imagination, and titties—DDs at least—straining a simple white tee, no bra in sight. She wasn't as breathtaking as Sarah, but damn, she was sexy in that soft, shy way. Rich daddy kept her in luxury, but out here, she was lonely, masturbating nightly to thoughts of Dave's "package," as she called it in her dirtiest fantasies."Dave! Fresh scones—blueberry, your favorite," Kasia called, her voice bubbly, cheeks pinking as she spotted Carmen. She climbed the steps, basket swinging, her ass cheeks jiggling with each step. Up close, her plumpness was intoxicating—thick thighs brushing, a little belly pooch under the tee that begged to be grabbed.Dave grinned, taking the basket. "Kasia, you're a lifesaver. This for me, or you trying to fatten me up?"She giggled, tucking hair behind her ear, eyes darting to his bare chest, then lower—lingering on the bulge like Carmen had. "Maybe both? Hi, I'm Kasia—neighbor. You must be... family?" She extended a hand to Carmen, but her body angled toward Dave, hips cocked.Carmen shook it, sizing her up—competition, but hot. "Carmen, Sarah's sister. Staying a bit. Love the scones idea—Dave needs spoiling."Kasia's eyes lit up. "Oh! Sarah's sister? You look just like her—gorgeous. Dave's lucky." She turned to him, biting her lip. "Any chance for a quick tour of the pool house? Daddy's gone again, and I'm bored out of my mind. Last excitement was the UPS guy... total dud."Dave chuckled. "Pool's open. Carmen? Jeff inside—grab him?"But Carmen waved it off. "Nah, you two go. I'll... watch the wood." As Dave and Kasia headed around back, laughing, Carmen watched Kasia's ass sway, jealousy twisting with arousal. "Fuck, he's got options," she muttered, slipping a hand into her dress, fingers finding her clit. But she stopped—saving it for later. For him.Inside, Jeff watched from the window, stroking himself slow. "Come on, babe," he whispered to the empty room. "Let him own you."By lunch, Dave was back, Kasia lingering for sandwiches, her foot "accidentally" brushing his under the table. Carmen joined, the three women now orbiting him—Sarah due home soon, but for now, the teasing ramped up. "So, Kasia," Carmen asked, all smiles, "ever wonder what Dave's hiding under those jeans? I mean, hypothetically."Kasia sputtered, blushing crimson, but her eyes sparkled. "Hypothetically? All the time. Makes a girl... curious."Dave just ate his sandwich, smirking, his cock throbbing against his thigh. The ranch was big, but the hunger? It was bigger. And it was just getting started.(To be continued...)
[stylesheet-group="0"]{}body{margin:0;}html{-ms-text-size-adjust:100%;-webkit-text-size-adjust:100%;-webkit-tap-highlight-color:rgba(0,0,0,0);}input::-webkit-search-cancel-button,input::-webkit-search-decoration,input::-webkit-search-results-button,input::-webkit-search-results-decoration{display:none;}[stylesheet-group="1"]{}.css-146c3p1{background-color:rgba(0,0,0,0.00);border:0 solid black;box-sizing:border-box;color:rgba(0,0,0,1.00);display:inline;font:14px -apple-system,BlinkMacSystemFont,"Segoe UI",Roboto,Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;list-style:none;margin:0px;padding:0px;position:relative;text-align:start;text-decoration:none;white-space:pre-wrap;word-wrap:break-word;}.css-175oi2r{align-items:stretch;background-color:rgba(0,0,0,0.00);border:0 solid black;box-sizing:border-box;display:flex;flex-basis:auto;flex-direction:column;flex-shrink:0;list-style:none;margin:0px;min-height:0px;min-width:0px;padding:0px;position:relative;text-decoration:none;z-index:0;}.css-1jxf684{background-color:rgba(0,0,0,0.00);border:0 solid black;box-sizing:border-box;color:inherit;display:inline;font:inherit;list-style:none;margin:0px;padding:0px;position:relative;text-align:inherit;text-decoration:none;white-space:inherit;word-wrap:break-word;}.css-9pa8cd{bottom:0px;height:100%;left:0px;opacity:0;position:absolute;right:0px;top:0px;width:100%;z-index:-1;}[stylesheet-group="2"]{}.r-13awgt0{flex:1;}.r-1adg3ll{display:block;}.r-1jkafct{border-bottom-left-radius:2px;border-bottom-right-radius:2px;border-top-left-radius:2px;border-top-right-radius:2px;}.r-1phboty{border-bottom-style:solid;border-left-style:solid;border-right-style:solid;border-top-style:solid;}.r-1udh08x{overflow-x:hidden;overflow-y:hidden;}.r-4iw3lz{border-bottom-width:0;border-left-width:0;border-right-width:0;border-top-width:0;}.r-4qtqp9{display:inline-block;}.r-6koalj{display:flex;}.r-bztko3{overflow-x:visible;overflow-y:visible;}.r-crgep1{margin:0px;}.r-hvic4v{display:none;}.r-krxsd3{display:-webkit-box;}.r-rs99b7{border-bottom-width:1px;border-left-width:1px;border-right-width:1px;border-top-width:1px;}.r-sdzlij{border-bottom-left-radius:9999px;border-bottom-right-radius:9999px;border-top-left-radius:9999px;border-top-right-radius:9999px;}.r-t60dpp{padding:0px;}.r-wwvuq4{padding:0;}.r-xoduu5{display:inline-flex;}.r-ywje51{margin:auto;}.r-z2wwpe{border-bottom-left-radius:4px;border-bottom-right-radius:4px;border-top-left-radius:4px;border-top-right-radius:4px;}[stylesheet-group="2.1"]{}.r-1559e4e{padding-bottom:2px;padding-top:2px;}.r-1fkl15p{padding-left:32px;padding-right:32px;}.r-3o4zer{padding-left:12px;padding-right:12px;}.r-3pj75a{padding-left:16px;padding-right:16px;}.r-cxgwc0{padding-left:24px;padding-right:24px;}.r-dd0y9b{padding-bottom:20px;padding-top:20px;}.r-ddtstp{margin-bottom:0px;margin-top:0px;}.r-dp7rxi{padding-bottom:40px;padding-top:40px;}.r-f8sm7e{margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;}.r-n7gxbd{padding-left:4px;padding-right:4px;}.r-s49dbf{margin-bottom:1px;margin-top:1px;}.r-sjygvo{padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;}[stylesheet-group="2.2"]{}.r-15peodp{right:-9999px;}.r-19qo34d{left:-9999px;}.r-1ca1ndr{margin-left:0.5em;}.r-1ez5h0i{margin-left:4px;}.r-1gs4q39{margin-right:4px;}.r-1kkk96v{margin-left:8px;}.r-1kpi4qh{margin-left:0.075em;}.r-1l2kgy{margin-right:0.5em;}.r-1q6cnnd{right:-2px;}.r-1wron08{margin-right:8px;}.r-3t4u6i{margin-left:2px;}.r-45ll9u{left:50%;}.r-5f1w11{left:-2px;}.r-k4bwe5{margin-right:0.075em;}.r-o59np7{padding-right:8px;}.r-ocobd0{right:50%;}.r-qjj4hq{padding-left:8px;}.r-x1x4zq{margin-right:2px;}[stylesheet-group="3"]{}.r-105ug2t{pointer-events:auto!important;}.r-109y4c4{height:1px;}.r-10ptun7{height:16px;}.r-10v3vxq{transform:scaleX(-1);}.r-117bsoe{margin-bottom:20px;}.r-11c0sde{margin-top:24px;}.r-11j9u27{visibility:hidden;}.r-12181gd{box-shadow:0 0 2px rgba(0,0,0,0.03) inset;}.r-12sks89{min-height:22px;}.r-12vffkv>*{pointer-events:auto;}.r-12vffkv{pointer-events:none!important;}.r-12ym1je{width:18px;}.r-135wba7{line-height:24px;}.r-13qz1uu{width:100%;}.r-13wfysu{-webkit-text-decoration-line:none;text-decoration-line:none;}.r-146iojx{max-width:300px;}.r-1472mwg{height:24px;}.r-14j79pv{color:rgba(83,100,113,1.00);}.r-14lw9ot{background-color:rgba(255,255,255,1.00);}.r-15ysp7h{min-height:32px;}.r-16dba41{font-weight:400;}.r-16y2uox{flex-grow:1;}.r-176fswd{transform:translateX(-50%) translateY(-50%);}.r-1777fci{justify-content:center;}.r-17bb2tj{animation-duration:0.75s;}.r-17leim2{background-repeat:repeat;}.r-17s6mgv{justify-content:flex-end;}.r-18jsvk2{color:rgba(15,20,25,1.00);}.r-18tzken{width:56px;}.r-18u37iz{flex-direction:row;}.r-18yzcnr{height:22px;}.r-19wmn03{width:20px;}.r-19yznuf{min-height:52px;}.r-1abnn5w{animation-play-state:paused;}.r-1acpoxo{width:36px;}.r-1ad0z5i{word-break:break-all;}.r-1awozwy{align-items:center;}.r-1b43r93{font-size:14px;}.r-1betnmo{max-width:672px;}.r-1blnp2b{width:72px;}.r-1blvdjr{font-size:23px;}.r-1ceczpf{min-height:24px;}.r-1cwl3u0{line-height:16px;}.r-1d2f490{left:0px;}.r-1ddef8g{-webkit-text-decoration-line:underline;text-decoration-line:underline;}.r-1dn12g7{line-height:48px;}.r-1ebb2ja{list-style:none;}.r-1ff274t{text-align:right;}.r-1gkfh8e{font-size:11px;}.r-1h0z5md{justify-content:flex-start;}.r-1h8ys4a{padding-top:4px;}.r-1hjwoze{height:18px;}.r-1iln25a{word-wrap:normal;}.r-1inkyih{font-size:17px;}.r-1ipicw7{width:300px;}.r-1iusvr4{flex-basis:0px;}.r-1janqcz{width:16px;}.r-1jaylin{width:-webkit-max-content;width:-moz-max-content;width:max-content;}.r-1k78y06{font-family:Tahoma, Arial, sans-serif;}.r-1kihuf0{align-self:center;}.r-1ldzwu0{animation-timing-function:linear;}.r-1loqt21{cursor:pointer;}.r-1mlwlqe{flex-basis:auto;}.r-1mrlafo{background-position:0;}.r-1muvv40{animation-iteration-count:infinite;}.r-1mwlp6a{height:56px;}.r-1nao33i{color:rgba(231,233,234,1.00);}.r-1niwhzg{background-color:rgba(0,0,0,0.00);}.r-1ny4l3l{outline-style:none;}.r-1oifz5y{background-color:rgba(170,17,0,1.00);}.r-1oszu61{align-items:stretch;}.r-1otgn73{touch-action:manipulation;}.r-1p0dtai{bottom:0px;}.r-1pi2tsx{height:100%;}.r-1ps3wis{min-width:44px;}.r-1qd0xha{font-family:-apple-system,BlinkMacSystemFont,"Segoe UI",Roboto,Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;}.r-1qi8awa{min-width:36px;}.r-1r5jyh0{min-height:130px;}.r-1r8g8re{height:36px;}.r-1s2hp8q{min-height:26px;}.r-1sxrcry{background-size:auto;}.r-1tl8opc{font-family:"Segoe UI",Meiryo,system-ui,-apple-system,BlinkMacSystemFont,sans-serif;}.r-1to6hqq{background-color:rgba(255,212,0,1.00);}.r-1ttztb7{text-align:inherit;}.r-1udbk01{text-overflow:ellipsis;}.r-1v2oles{top:50%;}.r-1vmecro{direction:rtl;}.r-1vr29t4{font-weight:800;}.r-1wb8bfx{text-decoration-thickness:2px;}.r-1wbh5a2{flex-shrink:1;}.r-1wvb978{font-feature-settings:'ss01' on;}.r-1wyyakw{z-index:-1;}.r-1xcajam{position:fixed;}.r-1xk2f4g{clip:rect(1px, 1px, 1px, 1px);}.r-1xnzce8{-moz-user-select:text;-webkit-user-select:text;user-select:text;}.r-1xvli5t{height:1.25em;}.r-1y7e96w{min-width:22px;}.r-1ye8kvj{max-width:600px;}.r-1yef0xd{animation-name:r-11cv4x;}.r-1yjpyg1{font-size:31px;}.r-1ykxob0{top:60%;}.r-2o02ov{margin-top:40px;}.r-2tavb8{background-color:rgba(0,0,0,0.60);}.r-2yi16{min-height:36px;}.r-36ujnk{font-style:italic;}.r-37tt59{line-height:32px;}.r-3s2u2q{white-space:nowrap;}.r-417010{z-index:0;}.r-4gszlv{background-size:cover;}.r-4hwcpe{font-family:Vazirmatn, Tahoma, Arial, sans-serif;}.r-4wgw6l{min-width:32px;}.r-54znze{color:rgba(239,243,244,1.00);}.r-56xrmm{line-height:12px;}.r-6026j{background-color:rgba(255,255,255,0.85);}.r-633pao{pointer-events:none!important;}.r-6416eg{-moz-transition-property:background-color, box-shadow;-webkit-transition-property:background-color, box-shadow;transition-property:background-color, box-shadow;}.r-64el8z{min-width:52px;}.r-7q8q6z{cursor:default;}.r-8akbws{-webkit-box-orient:vertical;}.r-8jfcpp{top:-2px;}.r-92ng3h{width:1px;}.r-a023e6{font-size:15px;}.r-adyw6z{font-size:20px;}.r-agouwx{transform:translateZ(0);}.r-ah5dr5>*{pointer-events:none;}.r-ah5dr5{pointer-events:auto!important;}.r-aqfbo4{backface-visibility:hidden;}.r-b88u0q{font-weight:700;}.r-bcqeeo{min-width:0px;}.r-bnwqim{position:relative;}.r-bt1l66{min-height:20px;}.r-bvlit7{margin-bottom:-12px;}.r-clrlgt{animation-name:r-imtty0;}.r-deolkf{box-sizing:border-box;}.r-dflpy8{height:1.2em;}.r-dnmrzs{max-width:100%;}.r-ehq7j7{background-size:contain;}.r-emqnss{transform:translateZ(0px);}.r-eqz5dr{flex-direction:column;}.r-ero68b{min-height:40px;}.r-fdjqy7{text-align:left;}.r-fm7h5w{font-family:"TwitterChirpExtendedHeavy","Verdana",-apple-system,BlinkMacSystemFont,"Segoe UI",Roboto,Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;}.r-h9hxbl{width:1.2em;}.r-icoktb{opacity:0.5;}.r-ifefl9{min-height:0px;}.r-impgnl{transform:translateX(50%) translateY(-50%);}.r-iphfwy{padding-bottom:4px;}.r-ipm5af{top:0px;}.r-jmul1s{transform:scale(1.1);}.r-jwli3a{color:rgba(255,255,255,1.00);}.r-kemksi{background-color:rgba(0,0,0,1.00);}.r-lp5zef{min-width:24px;}.r-lrsllp{width:24px;}.r-lrvibr{-moz-user-select:none;-webkit-user-select:none;user-select:none;}.r-m6rgpd{vertical-align:text-bottom;}.r-majxgm{font-weight:500;}.r-n6v787{font-size:13px;}.r-nhe8su{animation-duration:0.5s;}.r-nvplwv{animation-timing-function:ease-out;}.r-nwxazl{line-height:40px;}.r-o7ynqc{transition-duration:0.2s;}.r-orgf3d{opacity:0;}.r-peo1c{min-height:44px;}.r-poiln3{font-family:inherit;}.r-pp5qcn{vertical-align:-20%;}.r-q4m81j{text-align:center;}.r-qlhcfr{font-size:0.001px;}.r-qvk6io{line-height:0px;}.r-qvutc0{word-wrap:break-word;}.r-rjixqe{line-height:20px;}.r-rki7wi{bottom:12px;}.r-s67bdx{font-size:48px;}.r-sb58tz{max-width:1000px;}.r-tjvw6i{text-decoration-thickness:1px;}.r-u6sd8q{background-repeat:no-repeat;}.r-u8s1d{position:absolute;}.r-ueyrd6{line-height:36px;}.r-uho16t{font-size:34px;}.r-vkv6oe{min-width:40px;}.r-vlxjld{color:rgba(247,249,249,1.00);}.r-vqxq0j{border:0 solid black;}.r-vrz42v{line-height:28px;}.r-vvn4in{background-position:center;}.r-wy61xf{height:72px;}.r-x3cy2q{background-size:100% 100%;}.r-x572qd{background-color:rgba(247,249,249,1.00);}.r-xigjrr{-webkit-filter:blur(4px);filter:blur(4px);}.r-yc9v9c{width:22px;}.r-yfoy6g{background-color:rgba(21,32,43,1.00);}.r-yn5ncy{animation-fill-mode:both;}.r-yy2aun{font-size:26px;}.r-yyyyoo{fill:currentcolor;}.r-z7pwl0{max-width:700px;}.r-z80fyv{height:20px;}.r-zchlnj{right:0px;}.r-kkt9r{position:absolute;visibility:hidden;top:0;width:50px;pointer-events:none}.r-kkt9r.loaded{visibility:visible;top:50vh;width:50px}
|
| |
| |
Posted on : Oct 30, 2025
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|