Three Goblin Art
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
blake kathryn
$LAYYYTER
todays bird
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Not today Justin
Mike Driver
Kaledo Art
ojovivo
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Stranger Things
trying on a metaphor
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Monterey Bay Aquarium
Xuebing Du
pixel skylines
Product Placement
@theartofmadeline
taylor price
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@elviradyke
Hi 🦇♥️
Trying out having a nsfw blog so i’m not so horny on main lol
The basics:
- 26
- femme dyke (she/her) (tme)
- dms and asks open but don’t be weird i’m a human being too
- femme4butch/stud/masc, but i welcome dykes of all sorts ♥️
MEN AND MINORS DNI
I WILL BLOCK YOU
I AUTO-BLOCK EMPTY AND/OR AGELESS BLOGS
also non-leftists DNI
i’ll update this as needed but that’s all for now :)
TERFs, SWERFs, radfems and the like: kys
i’m back (my apologies for the spiral🙃) and the flyer has been updated! we didn’t make rent last week and duke hit us with a nasty notice to disconnect our power. we’re trying our best here- we’ve gone to social services with no help. called resource after resource just go get a resounding no. we need the support of our community especially this month.
don’t let pride go by without thinking of us- share, like, and donate!
$35/$850
went to some more community resources today and got waitlisted. we appreciate all the likes, shares and donations today! please keep spreading- if everyone who saw this gave $5 this goal would be complete in no time. help these two black trans dykes live🖤
thinking about a butch, one who's used to being in charge. the one with a lifetime of composure. the one who always knows what to say, always has a hand on the small of my back..so self assured.
the one who last night had me sobbing underneath them while they buried their cock so deep inside me i swore i could feel it in my stomach.
and then..i catch the front of their jeans with two fingers hooked through their belt loops and tug them close.
not hard..just enough. and suddenly, they're blinking at me.
"what?" they ask, voice low. brow raised. "nothing," i smile back..soft.
"you're looking at me weird.."
"i'm looking at you" i agree, and immediately i see the suspicion in their eyes..because they know that tone.
the entire time, i’m trying not to smile because the most lovely butch is standing their in their favorite jeans..the ones that ride low on their hips, button down with the sleeves rolled up just a fraction. strap hidden beneath their clothes because it makes them feel more like themselves..somehow completely oblivious to the effect they’re having on me.
so i tug gently on their belt loops again, needy. whiny.
"c'mere handsome." and they splutter. actually splutter. the person who can talk their way through anything..who usually has all of the confidence in the world. gone. completely, and utterly gone.
"handsome?" they manage. like they've never heard the word before. like their trying it on for size. and i can practically feel my chest ache.
"yeah.." i smile gently, full lips turning up at the corner. "handsome" while i busy my hands, straightening their collar, smoothing down an invisible wrinkle in the fabric. letting my hands linger.
"really handsome" i purr, my eyes dark. pupils blown. and suddenly, they won't look directly at me. their eyes trained on the floor, on the way my hands had somehow moved to the button of their jeans.
their cheeks are cherry red, the tips of their ears stained the same color. and they're trying so hard not to grin. to maintain some semblance of composure.
because maybe they spend so so much time being strong, and confident, the one who takes care of everyone else..that nobody notices how much it means when someone looks at them and sees exactly who they are. when someone doesn't try to change them, or mold them..force them into a box that never quite fit right.
no hesitation, no qualifiers..just a sharp breath in the moment i finally unbutton those jeans and drop to my knees. blinking up at them with those pretty green eyes before pressing my palm against the bulge in their boxers.
"so so handsome daddy"
reblog if someone should be groping you right now
Why is touching someone’s skin under their clothes so much more sensual than if they were naked?
obsessed with hearing her voice change as she says ‘don’t stop oh my god’ while she’s taking my cock
Giving head isn't for you. It's for me. Watching you melt in my mouth fixes me a little each time.
i want to crawl on top of you, want to see the bulge of your strap through those jeans. my legs on either side, keeping you there. your hands automatically finding my waist, fingers gently digging into the soft flesh of my hips. right where they belong.
except this time, slowly, i peel them off. interlacing my hands with yours and pinning them above your head. your lips part, brows raised in surprise.
“gonna use you, and you’re going to let me…aren’t you?” i purr, and despite our usual arrangement you find yourself nodding along almost mindlessly. a smile tugs on my lips, and your eyes fall to them..glossy with that strawberry scented lip gloss I’ve been obsessed with recently.
“good boy,”
and slowly at first, my hips rock..back and forth, lashes fluttering closed against my cheeks and I breathe out. my hands keeping yours gently above your head and you haven’t found the will to move them. entranced.
then, faster..more desperate, those little whimpers falling from my lips “oh fuck, please” i’d beg, and your hips would buck. my eyes would snap open, my hands finding your thighs. “don’t..move. did I say you could move?” I’d ask, eyes dark. usually so submissive. you swallow, shaking your head no.
i’d move again, desperate. needy. so fucking close that you can feel the dampness where it’s soaked through my panties leaving a dark spot on your jeans.
“f-fuck, please please please” i’d breathe, a strangled whine falling from my lips and my thighs clenching on either side of you.
“please what baby?” you’d ask, finally finding your voice again. thick with desire, slow and steady..the way that makes me shiver.
“please fuck me”
and suddenly, i’d be on my back..my legs thrown over your shoulder while you take exactly what you want. and i’d let you.
again
and again
Trade offer: you ride my cock like it’s your dildo and I get to see your tits bounce and suck on them
In the mood for a slightly giggly drunk makeout sesh on my lap, firm yet soft grasps on each other pulling each other in deeper for more. I need desperate grinding of hips like nowww.
lesbian blowjob
reblog if you think all tits are perfect
The pervert lesbian is wearing a floral print bikini and has managed to awkwardly insert the saying "stop and smell the flowers" into your conversation 6 times in an hour
If you own a floral swimsuit you can re-enact this post and enter the pervert lesbian hall of fame
She smells like sweat and WD-40, a potent mixture of mechanical grime and the pungent cling of a long day in a stuffy workshop. I want to kiss her knuckles, but yanks her hands away from my lips, laughing because they're too dirty.
... and they are -- she is -- dirty. Her whole body is covered in fluids and soots and oils -- the beautiful viscera of her profession -- and her knuckles are littered with a light dusting of scars from machines and people who struggle with the divide between metal and flesh, but it is because of this, not in spite of it, that my lips long for her fingers.
For hers are the hands of a journeyman mechanic, but a master dyke, strong, calloused, and despite having had them inside me on a semi-regular basis, the only time I've ever felt her nails was when she slipped them into the seams of my armor plating to pry open my frame for maintainance.
She knows me in ways that would make poets seethe, having held me both inside and out, and one of these days I'll find a way to make her understand that I am simply not capable of finding her in a state -- that no such state exists -- where the first thing I think upon booting isn't just how badly I long for her touch.
When you see a woman you love, or a woman you've fucked with some regularity, maybe a friend you've longed over for ages -- or just even one that you saw at the bar and brought home for a rollick -- what living, breathing being struggling on this dying planet, could see herself dripping from the fingers of such a beautiful woman and think:
"No, they're dirty. I simply cannot kiss them."
I may not be flesh, but I will spend as pathetically, desperately little time here -- perhaps longer than her, but -- nothing in the grand schema of the universal matrix, and I will lick, I will suck, I will take into my throat the beauty of this world, and by every rule and every god, I will kiss her fingers clean if I have to,
and then I will kiss them again.
I do this for every dyke, but I especially do this for you <3
consider this: pervy insatiable femme x masc that is trying their hardest to be a gentleman
also consider said pervy insatiable femme working up their masc little by little; gentle scrapes of her nails down their arm and back, "innocently" pressing her chest close to their body while they pretend they're not thinking about her tits, squeezing their thigh in public because she knows it drives them crazy.....
