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@cherrythorn
jessi. she/her. 29. this blog is a smut-driven, independent roleplay blog. i’m semi-selective, but i welcome anyone who wants to roleplay! you must be 21 and over. if you’re under 21, please do not interact!
muses. (in progress) wanted plots. memes. (they’re always welcomed!!)
based on this nsfw gif
open to: f (21+)
muse: amelia (trans woman)
connection: her roommate, boyfriend/girlfriend, ex boyfriend/girlfriend, one night stand, etc.
Amelia whimpered softly as the familiar warmth of her cock inside the woman's body was abruptly replaced by cool air. Her member, still thick and twitching from her recent climax, flopped against her belly, slick with her cum and the woman's natural wetness.
Her eyes, a little hazy with spent pleasure, focused downwards. A pearly white stream, thick and rich, began to slide from the pregnant woman’s swollen lips. It wasn’t a trickle, but a deliberate, slow ooze, tracing a path down her inner thigh, glistening in the soft light.
A small, contented sigh escaped Amelia’s lips. It was a beautiful, slightly messy sight, a testament to the raw, visceral act they had just shared. The woman, whose name Amelia had only learned a few hours ago, shifted slightly, her belly, still rounded with another man’s child, seeming to push towards Amelia in a silent invitation.
“Look,” Amelia breathed, her voice raspy, pointing with a trembling finger. “It’s everywhere.”
open to: m/f/nb (21+)
muse: olivia. 40s.
connection: her roommate, boyfriend/girlfriend, ex boyfriend/girlfriend, one night stand, etc.
Olivia hooked her thumbs under the neck of her tank top and slowly pulled it down, revealing her bare breasts to the cool evening air. Her nipples, one of which sported a delicate silver stud, puckered slightly as they emerged from the fabric's warmth. The moon cast an ethereal glow on her skin through her apartment window, highlighting the subtle rise and fall of her chest with each breath.
She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation of freedom that came with shedding her clothes. Olivia's hand drifted up to cup one breast, her fingers grazing the nipple as she tilted her head back. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she began to circle the bud with her thumb, feeling the pleasant tingle that followed.
The cold air caressed her bare skin, sending shivers down Olivia's spine. She stepped forward, her toes curling into the carpet as she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs. The world seemed to slow down, and for a moment, all that existed was the gentle rustle of leaves and the whispered secrets of the night.
Olivia's other hand joined the first, palms cradling her breasts as she stood there, basking in the tranquility of the moment. Time lost all meaning as she lost herself in the simple pleasure of being bare. In this perfect, fleeting instant, all her worries and cares melted away, leaving only the pure, unadulterated joy of existing.
based on this nsfw gif
open to: f (21+)
muse: amelia (trans woman)
connection: her roommate, boyfriend/girlfriend, ex boyfriend/girlfriend, one night stand, etc.
Amelia leaned against the bar, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her half-empty glass. The dim light cast a golden glow over her unbuttoned shirt, the loose fabric swaying slightly with her every breath. She didn’t care who noticed her bare chest—each undone button was a quiet rebellion, a way of carving space for herself in a world that hadn’t always made room.
based on this nsfw gif
open to: m/f/nb (21+)
muse: olivia. 40s.
connection: her roommate, boyfriend/girlfriend, ex boyfriend/girlfriend, one night stand, etc.
Olivia sank down on their erection, water pummeling down from where they sat in the shower. The water hammered against their slick shoulders, a warm curtain sealing them in their own private world. A gasp caught in Olivia's throat, not from the shock of the heat, but from the breathtaking fullness as she took them completely, her thighs trembling with the effort.
They began to move, a slow, primal rhythm dictated by the water sluicing over them. Each rise and fall was a study in sensation. Olivia braced her hands on their chest, her fingers tracing the familiar planes of their body, her head falling back as the water cascaded over her hair and breasts. Her world narrowed to this: the scent of clean skin and rain-fresh soap, the sound of their ragged breathing harmonizing with the spray, the exquisite friction building with every rock of her hips.
based on this nsfw gif
open to: f (21+)
muse: amelia (trans woman)
connection: her roommate, boyfriend/girlfriend, ex boyfriend/girlfriend, one night stand, etc.
Amelia leaned against the cool, white tile of her bathroom wall, the steam from a recent shower still clinging to the mirror and softening the edges of the room. In this private sanctuary, the closed door felt like a shield against the world. Her breath came in shallow hitches as her gaze drifted down to her body, her fingers tracing the soft curves of her hips before settling on herself.
She began with slow, deliberate strokes, her palm slick and warm. Each movement was a quiet reclamation of her own pleasure. As she closed her eyes, the world fell away, replaced by the rhythmic friction and the rising heat at the base of her spine. Her movements grew more urgent, her grip tightening as the friction sparked a fire that radiated through her abdomen. She arched her back, a soft, melodic moan escaping her lips and echoing off the porcelain walls.
The tension built to a fever pitch, electric and undeniable. Her toes curled against the bathmat as she reached the precipice, her heart drumming a frantic rhythm against her ribs. With one final, forceful surge of her hips, the dam broke. Amelia gasped, her body shuddering violently as the orgasm took hold. She pulsed rhythmically, a powerful, arcing release of fluid, a hot, heavy squirt, splattering against her stomach and the tiles behind her.
Lola lets out a shaky little laugh, breath catching as her head tilts back against the pillow, blonde hair spilling across the sheets in a messy halo. Her fingers curl into Amelia’s shoulders, nails pressing in just enough to hold on, like she’s trying to keep herself grounded even while everything feels dizzy and electric.
“God,” she murmurs, voice low and breathy, equal parts thrill and disbelief, “if my best friend ever found out about this, she’d totally freak.”
Her lips curve into that familiar, mischievous grin anyway, because trouble has never exactly scared her off, even if it involved hooking up with her best friend's mother. She shifts beneath the older woman, hips lifting instinctively to meet the movement, chasing the warmth and closeness between them.
“But,” she adds, eyes half-lidded and sparkling with reckless amusement, one hand sliding up to tangle in Amelia’s hair, tugging her a little closer, “then again… I’ve never been very good at staying out of trouble.”
Amelia let out a low, textured hum that resonated deep in her chest, a sound caught somewhere between a purr and a chuckle. She looked down at Lola, watching the way the candlelight caught the flushed heat rising along her throat. Despite the years that sat between them, there was no denying the raw, magnetic pull that had been hummed beneath every innocent coffee date and polite dinner conversation they’d shared for months.
Amelia shifted, her weight balanced perfectly as she pressed closer, feeling the friction ignite against her skin. She didn’t shy away from the intensity of the moment; instead, she leaned into it, her pulse thrumming in time with the breathless rhythm Lola had set. When she moved, she was deliberate, savoring the way Lola’s composure fractured further, turning that reckless, mischievous grin into something far more desperate and honest.
"Trouble has a way of finding the people who deserve it most," Amelia murmured, her voice husky and laced with an edge of possessive warmth. She brushed a stray lock of blonde hair away from Lola’s forehead, her touch lingering against the damp, heated skin. She took pride in the way Lola looked at her, not as a mother-figure to someone else, but as a woman who commanded the room and everything within it. There was no guilt here, only the electric, undeniable truth of two people finally stopping the charade, letting the rest of the world vanish behind the closed door.
Aveline moaned, her pussy aching for Amelia, being slightly younger and less experiments than her lover. “Oh, fuck! Amelia!” she need out, large breasts bouncing from the thrust of bing penetrated, her walls fluttering around Amelia’s cock. “Please, Am, take me,” she begged, spreading her legs wider for the woman’s access. “Ah, Amelia you’re going to make me orgasm before I can even make you,” she panted, the foreplay having done it’s job and edged her.
Aveline then reached down and began playing with her own clit, a blessed out expression on her beautiful features. She arched her back when her spine was traced, obedient and responsive to Amelia. “Your touch is intoxicating,” Aveline whimpered, her nipples aching from needing attention as well.
Amelia’s chest heaved with a soft gasp as Aveline’s hips bucked against her, her internal muscles clenching around Amelia’s cock in a rhythm that threatened to unravel her own control. The sight of Aveline, so utterly lost in pleasure, her face flushed and her eyes half-lidded as she worked her own clit, sent a jolt of fierce pride and possessiveness through Amelia. She loved this fire in Aveline, this raw, uninhibited desire that she brought out. "You're so beautiful, my love," Amelia murmured, her voice husky, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Aveline's temple.
Her own cock throbbed with every squeeze, every wriggle of Aveline's hips, pushing her further into the exquisite spiral of need. Amelia traced the curve of Aveline's back, letting her fingers drift lower to cup a firm cheek, pulling her closer, deeper onto her length. She wanted to drown in her, to feel every inch of her lover’s response. The air was thick with their combined scent and heat, a delicious chaos that Amelia reveled in. She watched Aveline's fingers increase their tempo, felt the tremors beginning to course through the younger woman’s body, and a powerful sense of satisfaction bloomed in Amelia’s chest. She was utterly hers.
yet again, her girlfriend was busy with work. leaving here there alone with her roommate, amelia. she didn't mind it at all. especially since she had come to like the other. especially the time they spent together. which as of late was a lot of time. not that she complained. the other was great company. though as of late, she had found herself growing close to her. so close that she was sure she was growing feelings for her too. being alone with her again tonight, one thing had lead to another and here they were. both clothes off, with amelia fucking her.
she couldn't deny the feelings she had for her girlfriends roommate. not anymore. especially now with how good the other felt fucking her. moan after moan escaped her lips as amelia thrust her cock inside of her. leaning in, she kissed her back. this all felt so right to her. should she have felt bad ? probably. but she didn't. "so good. so damn good." taylor moaned out. inch by inch, her own climax getting closer. she didn't want this to end though. not at all. feeling her own climax finally hit, she couldn't help but to moan out amelias name as she came.
Amelia felt the shudders ripple through Taylor’s body beneath her, a delicious earthquake that sent a fresh jolt through her own core. Taylor’s hips bucked up, fitting perfectly against Amelia’s grinding pelvis vibrated straight through Amelia’s cock.
Her pulse hammered against her temples, mirroring the rhythm she was still driving into Taylor. Each thrust was met with the slick warmth, the intense squeeze of Taylor’s inner walls, the delicious friction that had been building steadily within her.
An unexpected and fierce wave of possessiveness washed over Amelia. To hear her name torn from Taylor’s lips in such a moment, so utterly lost in pleasure by her hand, her cock, it was intoxicating. It confirmed everything Amelia had been feeling, everything she had tried to suppress. The late-night talks, the shared laughter, the lingering glances, it had all led to this, to the tangle of their limbs, the scent of sex and arousal filling the air.
She leaned down, her forehead resting against Taylor’s sweat-damp shoulder, panting. Her breath hitched. The muscles in her thighs burned from the effort, but she didn’t want to stop. Not yet. Taylor was still clenching around her, still buzzing with the aftermath of her orgasm, and that sensation was pushing Amelia closer and closer to her own edge. She wanted to meet Taylor there, wanted to drown in the shared release, to make this moment last forever.
“You’re amazing,” Amelia whispered, her voice thick with desire, the words barely audible against Taylor’s skin. She tilted her hips, driving her cock in one last, deep thrust. The dam was about to break, and Amelia surrendered to the inevitable. With a guttural sound torn from her own throat, she followed Taylor over the edge, her whole body convulsing as she spilled herself deep inside her.
alara never wanted to be apart from her again. those months were hell on earth for her. a hell she never wanted to experience again. leaning up, she pressed her lips against amelias. the woman who was the love of her life. the woman she very much couldn't live without. and she didn't have too anymore. hearing that she wanted everything that she wanted, it brought a smile to her lips. "make love to me again. this time, don't stop after i've hit my climax." she wanted the other to make her cum more than once. and she sure as hell didn't want her stop until they were sure that she was pregnant too. "i love you so much amelia. so damn much."
Amelia felt the words vibrate through her, a resonant hum that seemed to settle deep in her bones. The months of separation had been a hollow ache, a constant phantom pain where Alara’s presence should have been. Now, feeling the warmth of Alara’s breath and the soft pressure of her lips, the void finally began to seal shut.
Her hands, tracing the familiar curves of Alara’s waist, trembled slightly, not from uncertainty, but from the sheer weight of relief. When Alara spoke of pregnancy, of a future forged from their shared blood and breath, Amelia felt a surge of protective devotion. She knew the complexities of her own body, the unique way she was built, and the fact that Alara wanted every piece of her sent a wave of heat through her chest.
"I’m not going anywhere, Alara," Amelia whispered against her mouth, her voice thick with emotion. "You are my North Star. I spent every night of those months trying to find my way back to this."
She shifted, pulling Alara closer until there wasn't a breath of space left between them. She could feel the steady thrum of Alara’s heart against her own ribs, a frantic, beautiful rhythm. Amelia’s hands wandered upward, framing Alara’s face with a reverence usually reserved for icons. She looked into her lover’s eyes, seeing the raw hunger and the even rawer love reflected there.
The request to not stop, to push through the peaks until they reached that point of total surrender, lit a fire in Amelia’s veins. She reached down, her fingers tangling with Alara’s as she moved to satisfy the request. Amelia was acutely aware of her own body, the strength she possessed and the way she could offer herself to Alara in this specific, intimate way. There was no dysphoria here, only the powerful, grounding reality of being the woman who could give Alara what she craved.
"Then I won’t stop," Amelia promised, her forehead resting against Alara’s. Her touch grew more insistent, more intentional, tracing the path toward the heat of their shared desire. "I’ll give you everything I am. Every part of me is yours to keep, forever this time."
As she moved to guide Alara back down into the pillows, Amelia felt a profound sense of purpose. This wasn't just about the physical act; it was a reclamation of their life together. She would hold her, love her, and stay within her until the sun rose, making sure that when they finally drifted off, there was no doubt left that they were finally, irrevocably, home.
The other woman's pupils were massive, and Hannah enjoyed knowing she was also having an effect on her, that Amelia was overcome by her own lust, too. "Yes, don't stop," she replied, hands pressing firmly to ground herself as Amelia gave her what she wanted, another rhythm to add to the pleasure of the woman's cock pounding into her. "F-fuck," Hannah stammered, her pussy getting slick again as her pleasure continued to build and she could hear that Amelia was close, her breath getting ragged. "Right there, just like that," she whined. Hannah had had sex plenty of times of course. A lot of great sex, even.
But it was nothing like this, nothing like the absolute unravelling of control over her own pleasure that Amelia seemed to bring about in her. She was still sensitive from her last orgasm, but she couldn't stop herself from moaning in pleasure as the older woman told her to take it all.
"Yes, fill my little pussy with that big cock," she begged, feeling the familiar gush of wetness flooding her pussy all of a sudden once again. She practically screamed as Amelia's hips fucked into her desperately. "Cum in me." She was desperate to feel it, to be bred.
It was not long until she got what she wanted, Amelia's cock burrowed deep inside of her pussy. Hannah gasped, walls clenching to make sure she didn't lose a drop. She'd never been this turned on like this before and no one had ever done to her what Amelia had.
Amelia’s vision blurred, the world narrowing down to the exact point where their bodies joined. Hearing Hannah's desperate plea, the demand to be filled, to be bred, struck something primal deep within her. Any remaining shred of restraint snapped. Amelia’s hips locked forward, her cock buried as deep as it could go, and she let out a low, guttural growl that vibrated through both of their chests.
The release hit her like a tidal wave. She felt the heavy, rhythmic pulses of her own climax as she flooded Hannah, her length twitching with every surge of heat. Hannah’s walls were like a velvet vice, clenching and milking her, demanding every last drop. Amelia rode out the white-hot intensity of a climax that felt far more profound than anything she had experienced in a long time.
For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the harsh, synchronized gasping of their breath. Amelia felt lightheaded, her muscles trembling from the exertion and the sheer sensory overload. She slowly lowered herself, careful not to pull away just yet, wanting to savor the intimacy of the connection. She leaned down, pressing her forehead against Hannah’s, her sweat-dampened hair falling around them like a curtain.
"Hannah," Amelia whispered, her voice wrecked and husky. She looked down at the woman beneath her, seeing the dazed, blissed-out expression on Hannah's face, her massive pupils still dark with lingering pleasure.
"You're incredible," Amelia breathed, her cock still pulsing faintly inside the slick, warm heat of Hannah's pussy. She nipped gently at Hannah's bottom lip, her heart still hammering against her ribs. "I don't think I could have stopped even if I wanted to. You’re so tight... so perfect for me."
Lyla felt something content and victorious rattle through her when she heard the vice intake of Amelia’s breath by her ear. Lyla’s hand alone having Amelia’s cock bucking into her hand, and the dark haired curl cupped her hand further around the woman’s length, creating a tightness she could fuck into. It was exhilarating, to feel good and make her feel good all at once. Amelia’s fingers had curved over Lyla’s heat like they were trying to carve a space, shuddering when she heard the hunger in her voice. Amelia wanted it as much as Lyla did, and impatience dragged a whine out of her, no longer wanting to wait. When kisses trailed over Lyla’s skin, a shiver trailed down her spine, skin burning tense. Lyla nodded in silent understanding when Amelia’s hand instructed hers, and she followed her movements, keeping a pace that she knew would pleasure her partner. Lyla made sure to turn her head to watch, to revel in the way Amelia’s chest rose and fell as the deep groan left her damp rosy lips. Finally, giving them what they both so craved and ached for, Lyla gasped when she felt her cock against her skin testing the waters, felt her grip her hip closer. Lyla’s heart beat rapidly in her chest, anticipating, waiting, burning, wanting, nodding eagerly when Amelia posed the menacing question. “Too big,” she muttered, having felt the thickness of her cock around her entrance, swallowing thickly with a desire so great she could barely form words that were coherent. “Want it- please, want you, need to feel you inside me, can’t get enough of you.” She admitted with a quick speed of words, as though the chance of having her wish fulfilled was going to slip away from her. When Amelia finally begun to give in, Lyla let out a loud sweet moan, hand placed upon Amelia’s thigh and digging into her skin, nails carving crescents. Inviting her in, Lyla clenched tightly around her, adjusting herself to the warm and wet cock that slid into her, head falling back onto Amelia’s shoulder, lips parted in pleasure. Lyla’s hands trailed to find Amelia’s, to wrap them around her waist so she would hold them in place, make them one together, before urgently speaking again, “You can move, it’s okay, please, I want you to."
The world narrowed down to the singular, searing point of contact where their bodies met. Hearing Lyla’s plea, the way the word "too big" melted instantly into a desperate "please", sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated heat straight to Amelia’s core. She felt the incredible, pulsing pressure of Lyla’s walls clinching around her length, a welcoming tightness that made her vision swim.
When Lyla gave her permission to move, Amelia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, a low, guttural sound of relief. She shifted her weight, grounding herself against Lyla’s soft curves, and began a slow, agonizingly deep thrust. The sensation was overwhelming; the friction of Lyla’s velvet heat against her sensitive skin was almost more than she could bear.
Amelia buried her face in the crook of Lyla’s neck, inhaling the scent of her skin and the musk of their shared desire. "You’re perfect," Amelia rasped, her voice trembling with the effort of maintaining some semblance of control. She didn't just want to move; she wanted to disappear into Lyla, to fill every inch of the space Lyla had so eagerly offered up.
With every rhythmic slide, the connection deepened. She increased the pace, her movements becoming more fluid and urgent as she responded to the way Lyla arched beneath her. It wasn't just a physical act; it was a reclamation of herself, centered in the way Lyla held her, wanted her, and shattered for her. In this rhythm, they weren't just two separate people; they were a singular, pulsing pulse of need and fulfillment.
Lyla smiled against Amelia’s skin when she caught sight of Amelia’s fingers tightening around the steering wheel. Her assurance only felt like encouragement, resulting in Lyla speeding up her movements, skin of her palm pressing harsher against the length of Amelia’s cock with intent. “‘S’it good?” She asked instead, amusement laced in her tone like she already knew the answer. When Amelia hips bucked rapidly, Lyla’s teeth dug into the side of her neck lightly, grazing her skin and leaving a purple rosed hickey, “So eager.” She muttered, quite liking the restrain that the belt imposed on her. Making it difficult for her to do anything more than keep trying to push forward, meeting resistance. “Sound so pretty.” She hummed, giggling quietly when Amelia tried to speak and instead urged her on, “Trying to what?” She whispered in her ear, before leaning back and doing the exact opposite of her request. Lyla stopped momentarily, leaning down now, to replace her palm with her mouth. She looked up at Amelia, turning her head slightly so she could keep view of her face. Lyla begun with experimental drags of her tongue over the tip of her long thick cock, wrapping her tongue around the curve. Using one hand, she continued to stroke her length, before bobbing down to fill her mouth with Amelia’s hungry aching cock, dragging the head into the side of her cheek, pooling all the wetness around it and then letting it pull out with a pop. “You should focus on the road Amelia, we want to get home safe don’t we?” She found a rhythm and continued, other free hand moving to place her fingers under Amelia’s jaw, something to keep ahold of, thumb brushing over her skin gently while her mouth sinfully worked at her cock.
Every nerve ending in her body seemed to have migrated, centering entirely on the searing, wet heat between her legs. When Lyla’s mouth finally enveloped her, the sensation was so sudden and all-consuming that Amelia’s foot nearly heavy-pressed the gas pedal, the car letting out a low, mechanical growl of acceleration before she forced herself to steady.
A choked, broken sound escaped Amelia’s throat, half-groan, half-plea, as she stared ahead at the asphalt, though the road was becoming a dizzying blur of streetlights and taillights. The rhythmic suction, the way Lyla’s tongue swirled around the sensitive ridge before she pulled back with that taunting pop, sent jolts of electricity straight to Amelia’s spine.
"Lyla... please," Amelia managed to grit out through clenched teeth, her voice a strained, gravelly shadow of itself. She was hyper-aware of the seatbelt’s restriction, the nylon strap biting into her shoulder as her hips tried to seek more of that devastating friction.
She wasn't just driving; she was navigating a minefield of pure, unadulterated sensation. Amelia felt the dull ache in her length sharpen into a desperate, pulsing need, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
When Lyla resumed her rhythm, deeper this time, Amelia’s head fell back against the headrest, her eyes fluttering shut for a fraction of a second too long. She snapped them open, a low whine vibrating in her chest. The contrast was agonizing: the cold, calculated necessity of staying in her lane versus the molten, messy reality of what Lyla was doing to her.
"I'm trying," Amelia breathed, her voice dropping to a desperate whisper as she felt Lyla’s hand tighten slightly under her jaw, guiding her focus back to the windshield while her mouth continued to ruin her. "I’m trying to focus, but you’re... God, you’re making it impossible."
Min Lyla. F. 26. Roommate.
It had been a long and eventful day, and Lyla rested her head against the window, tired. The sun gleamed in and the radio played with a soft hum, but Lyla could hear the consistent sound of material shifting. Turning her head to the driver’s seat, she noticed Amelia moving slightly in her seat, as if trying to contain herself. Lyla’s eyes followed the tightness of her jeans, noticing the material bulging, and a soft wicked smile fell across her lips, leaning forward from the window. “You look like you could use some help.” She offered, tone suggestive and cautious at once. “You drove us today, it’s only fair that I say thank you.”
Lyla’s hands moved dangerously toward Amelia’s front, eyes locked with Amelia’s as she undid the front zip and button. Letting it lose, her aching cock sprung out like it had been begging for stimulation. “Poor thing.” She mumbled, spitting into her palm before her lips leaned closer to press tantalising kisses to Amelia’s neck. With her wet hand, she directed it to move along Amelia’s length with purpose, thumb pressing over the cockhead, palm working along her in a rhythmic manner. “This okay?” she whispered against her skin. "How long have you been thinking about it?"
Amelia’s breath hitched, a sharp intake of air that seemed to rattle in her chest as she felt the cool air of the car’s interior hit her skin, followed immediately by the searing heat of Lyla’s touch. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the leather-wrapped steering wheel, her focus splintering between the winding road ahead and the electric sensation spreading from her lap.
"It’s... more than okay," Amelia managed to choke out, her voice an octave deeper than usual, strained with the effort of keeping the car steady. She felt the rhythmic slide of Lyla’s wet palm, the friction perfectly calibrated to make her toes curl inside her shoes.
At the question of how long she’d been thinking about it, a flush that had nothing to do with the setting sun crept up Amelia’s neck. She shifted her hips instinctively, seeking more of that delicious pressure even as the seatbelt locked against her chest.
She let out a shaky moan as Lyla’s thumb swirled over the sensitive head of her member, the slickness of the gesture making her head light. The vibration of the car’s engine seemed to hum in harmony with the thrumming pulse in her groin.
"Lyla, I’m trying to... I’m trying to keep us - fuck, keep going," she gasped, her hips giving a small, involuntary buck against the rhythmic stroking.
Min Lyla. F. 26. Roommate.
Lyla’s body shuddered with an inability to keep upright, legs shaking and giving out at their own accord. Body jolting and electrified, focused on the careful hands working at the warmth between her legs, rubbing relentlessly and letting every moan and whimper die in her throat. She choked gasps and high pitched whines, wanting more and more. Lyla’s hand gripped its way over Amelia’s, urging her speed, the need to have her closer, feeling her press into the wetness pooling between her thighs. “More.” She whispered, hair a dishevelled mess as it splayed over her bare shoulders. Leaning back into her, she felt the thickness of her hardened cock press against her, clenching around nothing at the mere thought of Amelia filling her entirely. Turning her attention, she snaked her hand free from where it pressed over Amelia’s, now trailing behind her, watching as she begun to wrap her palm around Amelia’s cock. Giving her partner the relief she looked to need, getting one another off in tandem, hand moving up and down skilfully along her thick length, gathering drops of pre-cum and making it easier to slide. “Want-“ She muttered, words stumbling through content sighs, “Want you inside me.”
Amelia felt the air leave her lungs in a sharp, ragged intake as Lyla’s hand curled around her, the sudden friction sending a jolt of pure electricity straight to her core. Her hips betrayed her, twitching reflexively and driving her cock harder into the soft curve of Lyla’s lower back. She wasn’t just a spectator anymore; the dual sensation of her own fingers teasing Lyla’s slick heat and the firm, rhythmic stroking of Lyla’s hand against her own skin was starting to fray her composure.
"You have no idea," Amelia rasped, her voice dropping an octave, thick with the strain of holding back.
She leaned down, pressing a trail of heated, open-mouthed kisses against the nape of Lyla's neck. Every time Lyla’s hand slid upward, gathering the glistening pre-cum and coating her length in a slick, needy sheen, Amelia felt herself unraveling. Her control was dissolving, replaced by a singular, primal urge to stop the teasing and bridge the final gap between them.
She guided Lyla’s hand for a moment, showing her exactly the rhythm she craved before pulling her own fingers from between Lyla’s thighs. With a low, guttural groan, Amelia shifted her weight, grinding her pelvis in between Lyla's legs to test the fit, the friction agonizingly sweet. She reached around, her own hand finding Lyla’s hip to pull her flush against her, arching her body so the blunt, aching head of her cock rested right at the entrance of Lyla’s heat.
"You want me inside?" Amelia whispered against the shell of Lyla's ear, a dark, hungry promise vibrating in the small space between them. With a slow, deliberate tilt of her hips, Amelia began to push. The resistance was sweet and fleeting, quickly giving way to the velvet-tight warmth that welcomed her.
Hannah's back arched at the roar that left Amelia's lips. She wouldn't know how to stop the liquid even if she wanted to, having only just discovered that she could squirt. She supposed she could ask Amelia to pull back, but fuck she had no desire to do that right now. That was the complete opposite of what she wanted.
Even though her pussy was begging for a break, her mind and the rest of her was not done. She let out a quiet mewl of delight at the deliberate thrusts. "How are you doing this?" Hannah moaned, feeling the rumblings of that feeling renewing again, like she was being fucked so deep and so well her pussy could do nothing but get absolutely fucking drenched.
Even the sounds, obnoxious though they were, were turning her on. "Play with my clit again," she begged, wanting to feel that feeling again of being pushed beyond the limits of her own pleasure so that she was gasping for air and her toes curled again, begging for relief from the buildup. She had felt the tension build, had heard Hannah's breath hitch, and had known something extraordinary was about to happen. But witnessing it, feeling Hannah's muscles clench, her pussy milking Amelia's cock with such intensity, was an entirely different beast. A deep, resonant hum vibrated through Amelia, a potent mix of pride and lust. She had done this. Her cock, her touch, her rhythm, had unlocked this raw, uninhibited pleasure in Hannah.
Amelia’s eyes slightly glazed, her pupils blown wide as she watched Hannah’s body tremble. Every twitch of those internal muscles felt like a direct command to her own nervous system, sending electric shocks of arousal straight to her core. She felt the thick, heavy pressure building behind her own pleasure, that familiar, desperate tightness that signaled she was teetering on the very edge of her own release.
"You want it?" Amelia rasped, her voice dropping into a low, gravelly register that seemed to vibrate in the small space between their bodies. She didn't wait for a verbal answer. She shifted her hips, leaning forward until she could feel the heat radiating off Hannah’s skin, and reached down with a free hand to tease that sensitive nub. She worked it with a thumb and forefinger, rhythmic and demanding.
Amelia’s own breathing grew ragged, coming in quick, shallow hitches. She surged forward, burying herself deeper, finding that perfect internal spot and pressing against it with every calculated, heavy pump. She wanted to fill Hannah, not just with her cock, but with everything she was. She wanted to dissolve into this moment, to let her own orgasm erupt in a tidal wave that would flood Hannah from the inside out.
"Take it all," Amelia moaned against Hannah’s neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. Her own hips began to move with a frantic, desperate urgency. She felt the pressure in her cock spike, a blinding, white-hot sensation coiling in her lower belly, demanding to be set free. She pushed harder, driving into Hannah with a worshipful, punishing intensity, her own climax cresting like a breaking wave.
As the first shudder of her own release tore through her body, Amelia didn't pull back. Instead, she ground her hips forward, anchoring herself deep inside Hannah. She felt her body begin to spasm, her own fluids, a heady, potent mixture of her arousal, surging forth to coat the walls of Hannah’s canal, wanting nothing more than to leave her mark, to leave Hannah soaked in the proof of exactly how much she had been pushed, and how completely they had broken each other open.
muse: noah. 50s. local college professor. ex boyfriend.
Noah stood in the doorway, tie loosened and the faint scent of whiskey clinging to him. He’d let himself in with the key she’d never asked for back. His eyes took in the scene: Olivia reclined against the pillows, legs parted, that toy disappearing slowly between her slick folds. He didn’t speak at first. Just watched, one brow lifting in that familiar, faintly amused way, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Christ, Olivia,” he murmured at last, voice low and rough around the edges, the British lilt still there even after all these years. The way she took it made something stir low in his gut. “Looking for a bit of company, or should I pour myself a drink and enjoy the show?”
Olivia didn’t flinch, though a sharp jolt of adrenaline raced through her, cold and electric. Her hand remained steady at the base of the toy, her rhythm faltering for only a fraction of a heartbeat before she forced herself to keep moving. She met his gaze across the room, her breath hitching in a way that wasn’t entirely from the physical stimulation.
She watched the way his eyes tracked the movement, dark and unapologetically hungry. The sheer audacity of him, walking back into her life like he hadn't left a wreckage in his wake, should have infuriated her. Instead, the sight of him sparked a dangerous simmer in her blood.
"You always did have impeccable timing, Noah," she whispered, her voice surprisingly steady, lacking the tremor she felt deep in her marrow.
She arched her back slightly, pressing her heels into the mattress, letting the motion pull a ragged gasp from her lips. She didn't look away, even as she felt her core tightening around the silicone, the friction becoming a desperate, heavy ache.
"The door was locked for a reason," she added, her eyes narrowing as she saw his knuckles whiten where he gripped the doorframe. She slid the toy deeper, a slow, deliberate provocation that made his pupils dilate. "If you’re going to stay, you can pour the drink. But don't expect me to stop just because you finally decided to show up."
