here be titties

This is an NSFT sideblog so my main doesn't get crosshairs on it. I reserve the right to not engage and/or block at will but feel free to peruse.

[dragongirlbooty]

This is my NSFW sideblog. I won't be tagging things as nsfw or anything like that since it's all lewd if not outright porn here. behave yourself. i'm not a cop but i also don't want trouble.

[kitsune-pop]

older sister giving her younger sister a reacharound but she's a vampire and can't resist slowly sinking her fangs into her little sister's neck even though she swore she'd never do this she'd never turn on her sister like this but she smells so good and her moans were so sweet and god she tastes so good and she can't stop drinking even as her sister starts to go pale and gasp and shake and fuck her little sister's cumming all over her hand fuck fuck fuck she just whispered "take more big sis" fuck I can't think-

[shanks]

Qiandai以宇

[miracestuous]

Things that are good about little sisters:

• so small

• pocket-sized

• teasable as hell

• you can dress them up in all kinds of cute outfits!

• and then take them off!

• entirely too much energy

• make excellent body pillows!

• and you can use them like one too

[miracestuous]

things that are good about big sisters:

• theyre big

• they protect you

• they know how to tease you

• kissable lips

• kissable tits

• kissable EVERYTHING

• when they sigh when youre being frustrating you know theyll still forgive you

• mussing up your hair like youre such a silly little thing

• they can show you all kinds of hot new sex moves

• just dont tell mom

[j5daigada]

summer sasha 💦

[fates-wings]

Hey dont worry about whats happening off screen

[transgender-dumpster-princess]

Cumming on your tummy is the most age regressed way to come

[leatherdykelust]

Artist is @saagelius on Twitter

[mostpeggablemilf]

reblog if prev deserves to get facefucked in the back of the bar by a woman who bought her drinks until i couldn't walk.

[caffeccinoart]

Peach Tea in a minor altercation

[dragongirlbooty]

i would be better at dommeing and more interested if i had a pussy. it's difficult to domme when your only options are hands and oral and you have chronic pain. especially bc i dont like recieving oral. my options are way too limited. need to be able to just lay on a pillow and go 'ok pet time to eat me out' for til i regain the energy needed to stand/walk/do hand stuff again

[sleepy-middle-sib]

[sadocanine]

I'm sorry it's so thick just quiet down okay I don't need my roommates hearing my little sister moan like that when she's just supposed to be visiting

[lusciouslusciousliz]

The stale gym air was going to drive her insane, one of these days.

“I just.” She was on the floor, limbs haphazardly tossed about. Muscles she was supposed to be training, or even stretching, turned limp and docile. “I just need something to help me win. I know I can, I’ve fucking trained enough, I just. I just need that fire, you know? That push. Something to help me fucking- fucking get them. Make me want it.”

Like you have. Every time.

She didn’t say that. She wanted to, and it rattled around in her brain for a few prolonged moments afterward, like a shitty billiards shot.

The silence drew out for a few painful moments, her gaze locked onto the ceiling, a too-bright light burning in her vision. Until the muscles in her neck gave in like all the rest, and her head flopped to the side, and her gaze landed on her.

Her. The source of her frustration. Her best friend. Her rival. Her only friend, even.

Natalie was an impossibly frustrating enigma Iris couldn’t wrap her head around. She was just. Better. Natalie started wrestling after Iris did, but Iris had never beat her in a fight. Even when she was just starting out, when she was cocky and stupid and Natalie had a hunger for proving her wrong. She remembered being pinned that first time, that shit-eating grin on Natalie's face, that amused “Must be beginner’s luck, huh?”

Iris remembered tapping out, rolling out of Natalie's grip, a confused sludge of emotions writhing in her gut. Frustration, certainly.

Natalie was smoother than Iris. More charismatic. Iris knew she was a lesbian since she could remember, Natalie figured it out the morning after fucking one. Natalie called Iris, that morning. Iris could hear the breathy wisps of lust in Natalie's voice, had to endure listening to her stumble upon the same conclusions Iris practically had tattooed on the back of her eyelids. Iris remembered barely managing a curt, “That’s great, dude.” before punching her pillow. The sludge was back, but different, this time.

And on top of all of that, Natalie was hot. God, Natalie was hot. Natalie started estrogen a year after Iris did, and she had bigger tits. Natalie moisturized when she remembered (when Iris reminded her) and her skin was clearer than Iris', who had lost count of the empty bottles of overpriced product she’d thrown away. Natalie was stronger than Iris. Bigger. Wrestling wasn’t bodybuilding. It was a weight game, and everyone knew it. Natalie wasn’t lean, she wasn’t toned, she was a pudgy layer of fat over a core of rock-hard muscle. It was fucking breathtaking to witness. It was also the body type that haunted Iris' dreams and seduced her nightmares. And she had to train next to it for hours upon hours every day, in too-small tank tops, hearing her groan with sweat dripping obscenely off her forehead. 

It wasn’t fair. None of it was fucking fair. It wasn’t fair that Iris trained every day of every week, that she didn’t take holidays, that she spent her money on protein powder she had to choke down, that she had a fucking Excel spreadsheet, and still she was pasty and scrawny and weak and couldn’t beat a fucking rookie. Meanwhile that fucking rookie ate like shit and trained once a week when she wasn’t busy getting her dick sucked in a bar alleyway and still beat Iris' ass. Every. Single. Fucking. Time. And the worst part was, Natalie was a good person! A great person! A person Iris loved and cherished and received all of that back in multitudes, a person who pressed her weight against Iris' thigh to push her stretch deeper, who stayed in the empty gym until eleven at night just to help Iris train. She was fucking. Amazing. Amazing enough that the constant, fiery ball of rage rattling around in Iris' mind started feeling, like, maybe bad, actually. Maybe unjustified, maybe immoral. Maybe the wrong thing to do.

So Iris grimaced, and smiled, every time. Every single time.

“I have an idea.”

Fuck, her voice was hot too. She didn’t even think of that. Deep and breathy and seductive without trying to. Iris didn’t even know if Natalie voice trained or just fucking sounded like that. Asshole.

“Iris?”

Shit.

“Yeah. Sorry. Idea for what?”

“To help you get motivated. To get that drive. You were just talking about it."

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“Yeah. Right. Sorry.”

Natalie rolled her eyes. Iris felt stupid, and small.

“Winner tops.”

Iris blinked. “What?”

“You know.” Natalie got up, now, as did Iris, leaning back on her elbows. She was confused, still.

“Winner tops. Fucks the other.” Natalie shifted closer. Iris was starting to understand, now, but that didn’t help much.

“You can’t be serious.”

“You don’t have anything on the line. That’s why you can’t win. You think, ‘Oh well, I’ll try again next time. Maybe won’t mess up so early on, that really put me on a bad foot.’ But it doesn’t, because next time you screw up too, and it doesn’t matter. It never matters.”

“I see it, you know. When you compete.” Natalie continued, relentless. “See the moment you fumble, just a bit, and I have to look away, because I know what’ll happen. I know you’ve lost, when that gleam escapes your eye.”

Iris' throat was dry. “How does this- thing- solve any of those problems?”

Natalie grinned. That stupid fucking grin. “One match. It’s all on the line. You can’t fall back anymore. You have to suffer your mistakes. Have to keep going. You’re not a fucking bottom, are you?”

Iris cleared her throat. “No. Obviously.”

Natalie nodded. “Obviously. So you keep fighting. You have that fire. You don’t want to win eventually. You want to win now. Whatever it takes. You get dirty, unprofessional, off-script. That’s how you wrestle. It’s not fucking fencing.”

Iris paused.

Natalie paused, too, before continuing. “So what do you-”

It felt so fucking good to tackle her.

They tumbled into an awkward, uncoordinated ball. Iris had the advantage, of course. Her momentum helped her maintain control, to roll on top and stay there. At least until they stopped moving, and Natalie's head was clear, the fog of confusion lifted. Despite starting at advantage, it was a hard position to hold. Natalie was big, and strong, and fought dirty. Predictably dirty, though.

They watched all of each other’s matches. Naturally. Iris never looked away, though. Her eyes stayed focused on every little movement Natalie made until she tapped out–or, more often, until she’d pinned some poor thing underneath her, a brazen and fiery grin on her face, eyes wild. Iris really stared, then.

Natalie went for her trick. A dirty underhand. It always worked once, unless you knew to look out for it. Iris dodged to the side, and Natalie grabbed air.

Iris felt more alive than she had in years.

Iris did what she’d always wanted to, all this time. She grabbed Natalie's wrists and yanked to the side. Natalie began to tumble, but thought she was okay. Until Iris used that moment of recuperation to grab big handfuls of Natalie's side and pull with all her might. Natalie lost her center of gravity and went rolling onto her stomach, and Iris pounced.

Iris' arms were coiled around Natalie's head, her legs around Natalie's torso, clinging on with all her might. She was so close. So, so close.

One, two…

Natalie continued to roll. Unfortunate. Instead of trying to stabilize her position, Natalie's legs pressed off against the floor, adding a heaping dose of momentum to the roll. Iris clinging on tight resulted in her stuck between Natalie's entire body weight and the hard plastic floor in one great push. For a moment, Iris' breath was knocked out of her, a moment Natalie seized to escape Iris' grip. Clever.

Iris had it, for a moment. Just another second. She could’ve planted her feet better. Could’ve seen what Natalie was doing. It was frustrating, inherently, how everything Natalie did was so telegraphed, so easy to counter. And yet she did it so quickly, so brazenly, that Iris just froze, got blindsided. Every time. Every single—

Natalie grabbed Iris from behind, a hand on each side, and tossed her over her head. It was an absurd motion, and Iris just let it happen. She was in her head, again.

Natalie was above her, again.

“I’m serious, you know. The bet wasn’t a joke. I’m going to fuck you.”

Natalie wasn’t smiling, anymore.

“You’re not taking this seriously. You think I don’t mean it. I mean it. I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

Iris kneed Natalie in the stomach and bit her stomach. Sunk her teeth in real deep. Enough to make her wince, enough to toss her off. Not that fucking easy.

Natalie was smiling, again. It pissed Iris off.

Iris threw herself at Natalie again. She didn’t have a plan, this time, just a want, no. A need. To prove Natalie wrong, to wipe that stupid look off her face. She needed this. She needed it in her gut.

But Natalie was faster. And Iris was predictable. She dove to the side and stuck her arm out and Irisgot clotheslined. And then Iris was on the ground, again, and Natalie was above her. Again.

“You’ve never been fucked before, have you?” Natalie was smiling, and her voice was low and sultry. It wasn’t fucking fair. “That’s okay. I’ll take care of you. But you’re still going to take me. All of me. However long it takes.”

Iris tried to elbow, again, but Natalie dodged. She went to bite, and Natalie swayed out of the way. For her trouble, all Iris got was a hand on her jaw, pressing it against the floor.

“You’re getting predictable. And you’re blushing, too. What, do you want this? Are you all fucked up and horny from me shit-talking? Are you going to lie here until count, let me pin this stupid slutty waist down and fuck you until you can’t think? Are you really—”

Iris kicked Natalie in the balls.

“That’s not- allowed-” Natalie spoke, through gritted teeth, but Iris didn’t care. She was seeing red. Her arms moved before Iris told them to, her legs pressing off floor she didn’t know was there. And it was working. God, it was working. Natalie couldn’t keep up. Her counters were slow and predictable. Iris wasn’t reacting to her moves, she was reacting to how Natalie was thinking. She knew what Natalie was going to do before she did it, dodged before Natalie's muscles even tensed. It was like magic, like water. Iris was floating, Iris was flying. Natalie couldn’t do anything.

Iris rolled Natalie over. Pulled her arms into a knot and sealed it under Natalie's own body weight. Pinned her legs under Iris' own. Clamped Natalie's neck under her elbow. Held Natalie's chest down with her palm.

It was perfect. Inescapable. Everything she’d ever dreamed of. She’d won.

She’d won.

One. Two.

Natalie kissed her, and it all fell apart.

Just a moment before, if someone had asked Iris how her body felt, she would have described it in terms of steel beams, welded at the joints, coiled by wires of crackling red electricity. Invincible. Inhuman. Unreal.

When Natalie kissed her, she realized she was but dust, and sand. Her rigid lines were an absurd facade, her lightning a trick of the light. Natalie reached through her unkillable core and felt it crumble away underneath her fingertips. Like nothing.

Natalie's kiss felt like a tsunami. Hot and wet and overwhelming, some otherworldly force of god. Iris' eyes fluttered closed and her lips parted simply because it felt like the right thing to do. Natalie's hands were on her cheeks and she was tugging their heads closer together just to overwhelm Iris more with her tongue, which felt fatter and wetter in her mouth than Iris' had ever in her own.

Natalie was free. Iris was overwhelmed. She felt her body move in slow motion. She was pinned on her back, and her ankles were pressed to her shoulders, and Natalie was straddling her hips, and. Iris had to look away. Neither said anything, but they both heard those beats echo painfully loud in their skulls.

One. Two. Three.

She lost. Natalie was going to gloat, probably, going to laugh it off and roll her to the side.

“Fuck, you’re throbbing.”

What?

Iris looked down. At herself. She was flushed, sweaty. Her core was boiling over. More obvious than any of that was the. Well. Throbbing. Her shorts were tight, and form fitting, and though normally this was nice and ironically helped with tucking, well. It had its drawbacks. Iris looked in Natalie's eyes and saw her counting Iris' heartbeats.

Natalie reached down and grazed over the fabric, and fuck. Iris let out a fucking whine, at that, her hips bucking involuntarily, cock pulsing in large, identifiable beats, like gasps of air after drowning.

“Fuck. You’re really desperate, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Iris mumbled.

Natalie stroked lightly, again, and Iris mewled. Pathetic.

“God, this is easy. You know, I knew you had lost once I started talking. It was a gamble. Didn’t know if you were just riled up, if you wanted to beat me. But once I saw that look in your eye? When I started being mean, when I started making fun of you? When I saw that dumb, desperate, lonely bottom in your eye? Fuck. It was like a dream come true. And you were just so easy. How you kept fighting. How you were so desperate to prove you didn’t need, more than anything, to get fucked. You almost convinced me, near the end.”

It was then, embarrassingly late, did Iris feel that Natalie, too, was throbbing. She was still pinned, so she felt it press right up against her own, the position so obscene just a few scraps of fabric separated Natalie's cock, and. Fuck. And Iris' hole. Iris had to look away, again. Strong hands were on her hips, and thumbs were tugging at her waistband, and she couldn’t look.

Her shorts were peeled off, the skin underneath red and sweaty, hot to the touch. She felt a flood of shame as her cock peeled off the small puddle of slick that had pooled there, even as she felt Natalie's grip on her thighs tighten, her body tremble. Ravenous. At that angle, Iris' cock was shoved against her stomach, every throb lifting it slightly before it landed right back down, on that same spot. It was humiliating.

Her shorts were pulled off her feet and tossed, fuck, somewhere, as if either gave a fuck about where. A moment passed, and Iris looked back. Fuck. Bad decision.

Natalie was naked, somehow, and her tits were big and heavy and her hips were bare and pressing against Iris' own, and. Fuck.

Of course she was bigger. Of course.

She was. Fuck. A lot bigger. Two inches, at least. And hefty. Natalie pressed them together and laid her cock along Iris' stomach and she couldn’t see her own anymore, could only feel it trapped underneath. Iris whimpered.

“Look.” Natalie grabbed Iris' hand, placing it on her cock. It was fat, and hot, and alive, jolting under her touch. Natalie dragged Iris' hand to the tip, where it lay flat against her stomach. Natalie pressed Iris' finger to her own stomach, making her press in until it was painful. 

“Feel how deep that is.” And Iris looked down, and saw Natalie's cock laying obscenely across her stomach, her hips slotted against Iris' own. And realized. “That’s how deep I’m going to get. That’s how far I’m going to fuck you.” Iris felt her cock twitch. Pressed her thumb against her flesh, again, felt her guts writhe under it. “Do you feel scared? Excited?” Natalie's voice was breathy, low. She was excited for one of those feelings, or both. Iris couldn’t tell.

Natalie drew back, and Iris groaned at the sight. She had left an obscene footprint, a mark of sweat and heat on Iris' stomach, a shadow of a cock that still engulfed Iris' own.

Natalie had lube in her bag. Of course she did. Whore. It was cool to the touch, and Iris hated how much relief it granted her, a cool satiating to the endless, pulsing fire rolling out from her core. Even when Natalie poured it haphazardly and egregiously, letting it dribble over her stomach and her thighs and her ass. Natalie made a show of dipping three fingers into the stuff, and Iris made to protest, but the words caught in her throat as it dawned on her that she surely needed it, that even three of Natalie's thick, calloused fingers would be barely enough to prepare her. She throbbed, at that, and didn’t know why.

The first finger was torture. Natalie was slow, and careful, and Iris hated it. She felt tense and ready to burst, she felt feral. She needed something fast, vicious, unsafe. She needed Natalie to rip her apart with her teeth. And then Natalie's finger slipped a tad deeper and her entire body froze, tensed, muscles clamping down with all their strength. And Iris had to be patient, which she hated, and relaxed, which she hated, and exist normally without getting fucked how she needed for another agonizing second as her traitorous body froze up yet again.

She thought, for a moment, how easy this all would be if she had a cunt instead, something that, at this point, would be so wet and sloppy Natalie could simply press inside and bottom out and satiate that deep urge in her gut in mere moments. She thought about being pinned like this, in the very same position, but. Maybe Natalie liked seeing her frustrated, liked seeing her forced to be patient, to control herself. Maybe even if she had a cunt, it’d be as untouched and ignored as her cock was now. Maybe she didn’t deserve it. Maybe even if she had a cunt she’d be a bottom bitch who only deserved getting fucked in the ass.

Iris closed her eyes, and whined, and clenched, and felt her hole spasm around Natalie's finger and her cock throb, and her back arched, and she was so fucking obvious that it just made Natalie's stupid fucking grin grow.

“You’re so fucking greedy. I can feel it. I wonder if I can make you cum without even touching it. How fucking pathetic would that be? I can see it searching. Wanting a hole, a mouth, a hand, anything. Trying so desperately to be the top you claim you are. Imagine if you loved getting fucked so much that it gave up trying and just came into the open air. Actually.” Natalie reached down and tugged Iris' top off. It was a raggedy, imprecise motion, and she didn’t even tug it off all the way, leaving Iris' arms stuck together. Not that either minded. “It’ll cum onto these pretty, puffy tits.”

Natalie reached down, and Iris' mind went blank. Her tits were small and unimpressive but Natalie groped them like they were the first Natalie had ever seen, groped them so hard and deep Iris forgot she was dissatisfied with them. Natalie groped them until Iris arched and let out a broken groan, until Iris felt wanted, until she felt that Natalie had been staring and fantasizing about them as perversely and constantly as Iris had with Natalie's own, and they weren’t enough for Iris but they were enough for Natalie and that could be enough for Iris, for now. And then Natalie squeezed harder and fucked a second finger into Iris' hole and she buckled and her head rolled back and her hole clenched tight, but Natalie had fucked her sloppy and loose enough that she didn’t have to care, and Iris could be overwhelmed and overstimulated and could still get fucked, and she was flying, she was finally fucking flying, and Natalie scissored her fingers and tugged her hole apart and poured lube into it and fucked that cold and deep into her and it was weird and fucked up and she didn’t care, she was flying, and it was sloppy and a third was pushing in and those three flushed up at just the right spot and she was throbbing and throbbing and throbbing and she couldn’t stop, and she was pulsing, and fuck, she was cumming, wasn’t she, she was cumming like a whore, like a fucking pathetic bottom, cumming untouched over her tits and her face and Natalie wasn’t stopping, she was fucking those fingers deep into her and she was flushed and losing control too. She had lost control too.

Those fingers drew out of her and she was tired and foggy but still she whined, still she clenched around nothing, still she felt their absence like she’d been stabbed in the gut, and it was only Natalie soothing her, only whispers saying, “it’s okay… precious little thing, I know what you need…” in that breathy, husky voice was enough to make her cope for just a few more agonizing seconds before combusting. 

But then Natalie was above her with a grin and her cock was sinking into her hole and it was fat and warm and bare and raw and everything she’d imaginged and more, and it was just a bit thinner than Natalie's three fingers but sunk in so much deeper, and Iris held her breath until Natalie couldn’t press in anymore, until she was so too tight and too untouched, when Natalie had to fuck each bit in with torturous bucks of her hips, even with that bottle of lube emptied into Iris' guts she could still feel every scrape of Natalie's cock against her insides like it a bare wire frying and crackling her skin, and each time Natalie pushed deeper and a new part of her split open and everything else was forced open a tad wider, and Natalie pinned her and leveraged her body weight in heavy, godly thrusts she couldn’t resist, and she was whimpering and broken but she had done it, and she looked down and Natalie was hot and sweaty and flush with her hips. And with a shaky hand Iris reached down to her stomach and pressed, and pressed deeper, and it was absurdly deep into her insides but she pressed deep enough that she could barely feel the indent of Natalie's tip and she let out a wavering moan at the absurdity. 

Iris looked up to Natalie and saw it wasn’t absurd, to her, it was something else. Iris saw a beast barely contained, her knuckles clenched white holding Iris' hips, and she wanted to say do it, pussy, what are you, a bottom?, but she was beyond words, beyond coherence. So she groaned, something small and wimpish, but it got her point across, it seemed, because Natalie snarled and gripped her hips and ground her cock in Iris' hole until her back was arched and she was whining and begging desperate for more. And then Natalie tugged herself out, somehow, and then pressed in again, and again, until she was fucking Iris with the ravenous ferocity that she deserved, and Iris was limp and sloppy but her veins were electric, and each bottom out in her gut felt like a punch to the stomach in the best way possible.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking- so fucking- tight-” Natalie could barely form words either, and it was driving Iris crazy, seeing Natalie devolve into something so raw and primal she couldn’t even think, something hot and sweaty and heavy that just wanted to take and ruin and fuck, and Iris was weak and pathetic but her stupid moans were enough to bring that out of someone like Natalie and that drove Iris fucking insane, more than anything, and Natalie was speeding up and she pushed more of her body weight forward to bury the slighest bit more inside Iris and she pressed on Iris' stomach and Iris couldn’t handle it anymore, she couldn’t, and again she came all over herself, all over her stomach and her tits and her face and Natalie spat on her chest and reached down and smeared it around, and it felt gross and right and hot and gripped Iris' tit with one hand and her jaw with the other and looked into Iris' eyes as she came, as her cock ground into her and flooded her, and it was the most overwhelming sensation Iris had ever felt, it was so deep and so big and so raw, and her body was so bent, and Iris was Natalie's, Iris was hers, and she was a stupid bottom hot enough to get fucked raw by the hottest woman Iris had ever known, and that was enough. That was enough.

A week later, Iris swept her local competition, the first tournament she’d won in her career.

“I don’t get it, though. The bet didn’t motivate me. I lost. I didn’t even want to win. Why did it work?”

Natalie hummed. “I kind of made that up. You just needed to get fucked.”

Iris smacked her on the back of the head. Asshole.

[gluefactorybait]

young centaur first heat

[gluefactorybait]

young centaur first heat discovered by lesbian adventuring party

[gluefactorybait]

young centaur first heat gang rape

[dumbdoegirl]

sometimes all a girl needs is to stare vacant eyed into a camera holding up double peace signs while dressed in clothes she would never pick out for herself.