Tags: fingering, edging, cunnilingus, dom sue, sub reader, butch reader
Words: 3,433
Author's note: I know I said I enjoyed Sue’s character but wouldn’t write for her because she’s too sweet but then I started to think about it… she’d be sooooo soft… and here we are. This is very…gooey. I may have gone overboard on describing Sue’s softness (and smiles), but it’s what she deserves!! Also my tags feel very light but I can't see anything else to add? Please let me know if I've missed anything.
Explicitly butch reader. Sue calls reader handsome, has a bush, reader wearing boxers, button up shirt and belt, good boy and good girl used. No pronouns used.
ao3 | masterlist
| Part 1 | Part 2 (TBC) |
Nerves flutter in your chest as you ride up the elevator to the Baxter’s private floor. It’s just you and Sue tonight. All night.
The doors open sooner then you’re ready and you step out with shaky legs, your hands grip a bouquet tight enough to feel the stems digging into you through the paper. You look around. You tried to time the elevator to arrive to the minute, but you’ve yet to count how long the actual ride takes so you had to guess. A moment later Sue rounds the corner, greeting you with a bright smile.
“You’re here,” she says, opening her arms. You try to reign in your eagerness as you lean into her warmth. Her arms wrap around you, a bit tighter than a hello hug needs. You only lean back when she does.
“You invited me,” you say with a smile.
“So I did.” She grabs your hand and leads you to the kitchen, talking about what’s for dinner. You cautiously twine your fingers with hers. She throws a warm look over her shoulder without pausing. She turns right at the kitchen instead of entering. You follow curiously. The look she throws you this time has her eyes sparkling with mischief.
The next door she opens leads to a bedroom. Her bedroom you realise as you look around. You hesitate for the first time, not quite able to bring yourself to enter despite her leading you in. She stops instead of dragging you in. She turns to face you and grabs you other hand.
“Will you wear something I’ve picked out?” she asks hopefully. You’ve never been able to deny her and it’s such a simple request. She knows what you like. You nod easily. Her smile lights her face and she pulls you into her room. The outfit laid out on her bed is…nice. Very nice. Obviously expensive and just your style. She watches fondly as you gently run your fingers over the fabric.
“There was more but I don’t want to overwhelm you on our first full night.”
“More?” You look at her curiously. There’s a full outfit there. Maybe jewellery or something? Sue steps closer. She trails her free hand down your arm then off your fingers onto the fabric of the outfit she’s chosen. She trails her fingers lower to fiddle with the hem. Two fingers gently run under the edge.
“Oh,” you murmur. Sue’s grin this time is slower. She slides between you and the bed, her hand returning your arm. This time it climbs higher to lightly rest on your shoulder.
“Why don’t you get dressed while I plate?” She’s so close her nose brushes yours. You nod mutely, your mind suddenly quiet. She gently squeezes your shoulder, then slips away as easily as she slipped in. You resist the urge to ask her to stay.
You admire the fabric for another moment before putting the new outfit on. You neatly fold your old outfit and place it on the bedside table. Normally you would put it on the bed but you have a feeling that’s going to be used tonight and you won’t want to waste a second. You linger afterwards. You aren’t sure if you’re meant to go back to the kitchen or if Sue wants to escort you again. After a few agonising moments you decide to go to the kitchen. You don’t want to be away from her and there’s currently no reason to be.
She’s placing both plates onto the dining room table when you emerge from the hall. The smile she gives you is radiant. She meets you halfway when you walk to her. Her hands smooth over the fabric at your shoulders.
“So handsome,” she murmurs, almost to herself. You duck your head. “Ah,” she murmurs and tilts your head up to look at her, “There’s no reason to hide.” Her smile is so warm you struggle to not look away again.
“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, trying to memorise the blue of her eyes. She runs the tips of the fingers along your jaw before pulling away.
“Let’s eat,” she says, “We can continue this conversation later.”
Dinner is delicious and the company is even better. Your quiet conversation fills the room. Sue warm and attentive, you returning the same attention. It’s easy with her, talking about the silly things and the serious. You’ve been content in her presence before but this leaves such a warm feeling in your chest. When you’ve both cleared your plates and the conversation has finally wound down, you stand to take the dishes but Sue stops you.
“You cooked. Let me help clean you,” you insist.
“The dishwasher’s been modified,” she explains. “And I didn’t cook,” she admits with a hint of humour. “Will you sit on the couch for me?”
You reluctantly hand over your dish and move to the other room. There’s only the one part wall separating the rooms but you still play with your hands anxiously. You’re only able to see Sue in flashes as she moves about the kitchen. You look up when she makes her way over. She settles on the couch beside you with a warm smile. Her knee brushes yours. She gently takes one your hands in hers and holds it in her lap. Your eyes linger on where her skirt rides up her thigh before you manage to get control of yourself.
“I would like you to follow instructions tonight, okay?” she says.
“Of course, Sue,” you say immediately. Her thumb rubs the back of your hand.
“Good,” murmurs Sue, “Although it would be alright if you’d prefer something else. Tonight is about both of our pleasure and comfort. An exploration of what the future could be like for us. I don’t want you saying yes to things simply to make me happy. I want you to enjoy them too. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
“Are you ready?” she asks. You perk up. She’s watching you with a warm smile, her eyes are practically sparkling.
“Yes,” you breathe.
“Come along then.” She stands and holds out her hand. You take it, fingers slotting perfectly between hers. She leads you back to the bedroom. She stops at the end of the bed again. She tugs you closer. Close enough that your clothes brush hers.
“Let’s continue our conversation from earlier,” Sue says. You’re lost. She gently turns your head to face the full length mirror. “Look at you,” she whispers, pressing herself against your back again. The instinctive embarrassment rises inside of you but her grip tightens so you can’t look away. You swallow nervously, focusing on her in the mirror instead of yourself.
“I remember the conversation pausing when I was complimenting you. Not the other way around.”
Sue smiles. She turns her face so her lips brush your skin. She skims them over your cheek in an impression of a kiss.
“Let me have my fun,” she murmurs, breath hot against your ear.
You take a deep breath. “Yes, Sue.”
“My handsome boy,” she says. She glides her lips down to your neck as her hands untuck your shirt and glide under it. Her touch is light and your stomach muscles jump at the slightly ticklish feeling. Her hands explore as she gently sucks a mark onto your neck. Your eyes follow the movement of her hands under your shirt, never moving too high or too low. A tease or an idle movement, you don’t know. She releases your skin and gives a light lick over the newly sensitive spot, an amused smile growing when you shiver. “Let’s get you out of this. I want to see how handsome you are underneath.”
You nod and try to unbutton your shirt. Your hands shake slightly. She lightly pushes your hands away before you can get the first button undone.
“Let me,” she says. She doesn’t need to move, using the mirror to help her unbutton your shirt while still pressed against your back. “You’re mine to unwrap, after all.”
“Sorry,” you breathe.
“No need,” she reassures, voice still that same soft tone. “You only wanted to help, didn’t you sweet thing?”
You nod, unable to take your eyes away from her skilled hands. She smoothy undoes every button. Within moments she’s leaning back enough just to slide your shirt off and onto the ground, her nails lightly dragging up your arms and over your shoulders. You’re slightly surprised by her letting it fall, crumpled, to the ground but don’t say anything. She’s pressed against you again within a moment but you still missed her warmth.
Her hands go to your belt and your breath hitches. She undoes it slowly. A brief look higher shows her eyes on your face. The heat in them is too much and you quickly drop your gaze back to your belt. Now undone, she tugs it off. It you more wet than should be reasonable, yet it conjures images up you aren’t strong enough to shove back down. Hovering over Sue, kneeling between her legs, making her feel so good, her face scrunched in pleasure. You’re too distracted to see if she catches your reaction. Your pants drop to the floor too, Sue not dragging it out this time.
“Shoes,” she says and you’re quick to toe out of them. You wobble a little with the pants still bunched around your ankles but Sue steadies you. An embarrassed glance up shows only a soft smile on her face.
You’re too fuzzy to guess what she’ll do next but the feel of her warmth against your back again is welcome. The feel of her clothes annoying only in the hiding of the feel of her skin. Her hands settle on your hips. She doesn’t move for a few long moments, admiring you in the mirror. You resist the urge to squirm. She presses a gentle kiss into your shoulder before her hands tighten on your hips and she gently guides you backwards to the bed. You’re slightly surprised she isn’t going to fuck you right in front of the mirror, but maybe that’s too much for the first night. You’re meant to be getting to know each other in a new way. You want to see her not yourself, even if it is the sight of you falling apart at her hands. Maybe another night.
She guides you to lay in the centre of the extremely comfortable bed and is quick to follow. You’re impressed with how quickly she pulls her dress off in the moments between. She settles on your hips and it’s your turn to admire her. A chance you accept eagerly. Your eyes drink her in even as your hands hesitate above her hips.
“You can touch,” she says, voice rougher than before. Your hands don’t settle on her hips. Instead you skim lightly over them before exploring higher. Her skin is smooth and soft beneath your touch. You can’t help exploring for longer than you should. Eventually you sit up slightly to reach behind her. The blue of her bra suits her wonderfully but you want to see what’s underneath.
“May I?” you ask, fingers stopping on the clasp.
“You may,” she says, voice smooth.
Thankfully, your slightly shaky fingers don’t betray you and it doesn’t take more than a moment to remove. Taking a risk, you throw the bra to the side like she had your clothes. No reprimand comes and you eagerly reach for your prize. You keep your touch gentle but not light. Smoothing over her skin first before squeezing. She presses her chest into your hands. You move to gently play with her nipples, loving the way her shoulders slowly relax with the stimulation. She tilts her head back slightly and you itch to take her hair out of her ponytail. Not only to have the soft light reflecting off of it to highlight her silhouette more, but to have its soft ends brush against your knuckles.
You lightly pinch her nipples and she tilts her head forward again, smiling.
“You’re distracting me,” she accuses with soft amusement.
“This wasn’t the plan?” you ask, not sure what exactly you’re distracting her from. You still your hands but don’t pull away. This is exactly what you were hoping for.
“Not tonight. I want to see you.”
“Oh.” You slide your hands back down to her hips. “So another night?”
“You’ll get your chance to worship me,” she promises, voice firmer than you were expecting. “Let me have my turn first.”
You swallow roughly. Smiling, she lifts her hips and pulls off your boxers. Your legs part automatically once they’re gone and she settles between them. Maybe she’s torturing you, or maybe she doesn’t want to be patient anymore, but she doesn’t kiss you like you’re expecting. At least, not your lips. She starts just below your ribcage, breath hot against your skin.
“Hands up. Keep them there,” Sue says. You obey even as you desperately wish to touch her. She rewards you with a proud smile. “Good girl.” You can’t hold eye contact. She doesn’t tell you to. She kisses her way down your stomach. It’s almost ticklish. She stops just above your bush, nose brushing your skin for a moment before she pulls back.
“Already so wet,” she says wonderingly. Her fingers play with your soaked curls. Your thighs twitch but you manage to stay still. She’s so close to where you ache for her.
She lingers long enough for you to say a desperate, “Please.”
You can feel her smile when she brushes a kiss against your thigh. You see it in the way her eyes sparkle. You haven’t been able to take your eyes off of her this entire time. She trails her nose over your skin to nose at your bush again. Her fingers slide lower and finally push past your curls. You widen your legs further. Her fingers gather your wetness before smearing it around your entrance. You fear she’s going to tease again a moment before she slides one finger inside of you. She doesn’t push far. Only a few knuckles deep. Enough (Sue storm is actually touching you), yet not enough to soothe the ache inside of you. Thankfully, she’s just testing the waters. Her eyes watching you closely. When your reaction is pure desperation, she pushes in all the way. You moan. It’s a slight burn but it soothes the fire growing inside of you. A few strokes later she pauses and waits until your eyes clear enough to focus fully on her own. She tilts her head to rest against your thigh.
“Can I add another?”
“Yes. Please.”
Another soft kiss to your thigh and another finger carefully pushed inside of you. You appreciate the slowness at first, being treated so delicately warms that hollow spot inside of you, but the slow pace stokes the fire gradually. You try not to be too obvious but it isn’t long before you’re squirming beneath her. Quiet, needy whimpers escaping you.
“Is there something you would like to ask for?” Instead of the amusement you’re expecting on her face, there’s a fervour around the edges. Her pupils are blown and her cheeks flushed.
“Yes,” you say, voice breathy. She waits, fingers never stopping, and it takes you a moment to realise you haven’t actually said the words yet. You don’t understand how such a slow pace has made you so spacey so fast. “Please, can you go faster? Please?”
“Of course.” She smiles so sweetly the heat inside of you flashes brighter.
Her face still lingers so closely to your heat. Close enough that you can feel the warmth of her breath brushing your clit. It makes your need stronger. The aching worse despite the relief of her faster pace. Still not enough, especially with the tease of this slight stimulation. Asking had worked last time, maybe it will again.
“Please,” you rasp out. Sue hums out a questioning noise. You struggle to get your mouth to work. How long has she been doing this to you? How long has this need been stoked enough to linger yet not to build? “Please,” you try again, “Use your mouth.” Worrying she might take this to mean stop using her fingers you quickly add, “On my clit. Please, Sue, please.”
“Such a good girl using your words,” she praises. You shiver. She takes a moment to nose at your curls again, to breathe you in.
You shudder when she finally uses her tongue. A soft, slow lick along the edge of your clit. Her fingers push into you again and the next lick is firm. Your thighs tense as they try to close again to keep her against you. The heat starts rising and the relief makes it rise even faster. Still, you can’t quite reach that peak. Her movements stay soft and slow.
Then her fingers slow down and she stops playing with your clit. You blink down at her in confusion. Her expression stays the same, intent. You think maybe she wants to prolong this moment. Maybe she doesn’t want you to come yet so she doesn’t have to stop touching you. If that’s why then you don’t mind, although you’re eager to touch her. Eventually she returns her attention to your clit. You steadily rise again. You’re close when she slows again. A whine is pulled from you.
“You’re doing so well,” she says like she isn’t torturing you.
“Please can I come?”
“Not yet.”
You hold in another whine. She waits another moment, maybe for a protest from you or begging or a question, before starting again. Let me have my fun, she had said. So you will. She starts with her fingers again. Slowly building up a methodical pace. You can’t tell if she’s actually going faster this time or if it’s just wishful thinking. You moan when she begins to play with your clit again, tongue warm and wet. You moan again when she curls her fingers some time later.
Time feels soft and slow as dripping syrup. You don’t know how long she’s been torturing you. Just a little longer, you think. Just a little more, you internally beg. Your hips start moving again without her permission. Squirming escalating to trying to push back against her fingers. They’re held down, the strange feeling of Sue’s forcefield against your skin.
Eventually, she slows to a stop once more and you can’t stop your desperate sound. Still, you don’t ask why or beg. She asked you to follow her instructions tonight and that’s want you want to do. Was that number three or four? You don’t want to know.
“You’re doing so well for me,” she says, voice lower. Your fingers dig tighter into the sheets. You don’t know when you started but your fingers ache from it. The heat inside of you is unbearable. Much longer and you fear you’re going to break.
The torture starts again and you whine quietly. She isn’t merciful. Still so, so slow. Your eyes scrunch in need. At some point, she moans low enough for you to look down. She’s made her hand invisible and she’s shifted low enough to see through it. You clench at the realisation she’s looking inside of you.
“Just like that,” she murmurs, “Such a good boy.” Her fingers curl, pushing against that spongey spot inside of you, and you clench down again. She does it again and your hope flares when she doesn’t slow down. You’re so, so close. One more time and you’ll come. She’ll be able to see you come. Her eyes stay fixated on your entrance. You try to control yourself, try to stay still and not get too loud. You fail but Sue doesn’t stop. She uses her free hand to rub firm circles around your clit.
The fire bursts in an explosion deep in your gut, racing up your spine to lick away the few thoughts left in your head. You come down to your legs twitching, Sue carefully sliding out of you. You’re more tired than you’re expecting from only one orgasm. Your body wrung out from being on the edge for so long. There’ll be no returning the favour tonight. Your limbs too heavy and your pussy too sensitive. Sue doesn’t seem to mind. She guides you to lay your head on her chest and she gently plays with your hair. It’s too easy to slip into sleep. A gentle kiss to your head sending good dreams with you.
Hiiii!!! Could we get some Pamela fluff where it’s just gentle pampering and sweet kisses??
Aftercare
A/n: Heyyy anon! So sorry for the wait! I hope you like this!
Pairings: Pamela Anderson x Fem!Reader
Warnings: mention of sex. And that’s it. Just super sweet mommy Pamela fluff.
After a long, pleasurable, and tiring string of intimate activities with Pamela, you’re well spent.
“Oh baby, did I wear you out?” She asks as she takes the strap off to clean it and put it back in the drawer where it belongs.
You tiredly nod with a blissed out smile as you lay bare naked on the luxury bed. Your girlfriend is, of course, also still naked you admire her beautiful form. You’re never going to get tired of her beauty.
“Cmon, let’s get you cleaned up.” She grabs your hand and gently tugs you to get off the bed and follow her into the bathroom.
You yawn as you rest against the wall while she fills the tub. “I know you’re tired, baby. But you need to get cleaned up.”
Once the bath is filled along with bubbles, the two of you get in, Pamela behind you as you sit in her lap and rest your head against her chest. She grabs a warm wash cloth with body wash and starts gently rubbing your entire body, being extra gentle with your pussy.
You sigh in contentment, you love when she takes care of you like this. “Good girl.” She praises softly as you let her clean you.
“I love you, Pammy.” You whisper
“I love you too, baby.” Pam responds before giving you a peck on the cheek.
Once it’s time to get out of the bath, she wraps you in a warm, fluffy towel before handing you your favorite silk night gown and robe.
“Thank you, darling.” You say before pecking her lips.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
Anyone would call you guys so in love that it’s sickening. But you couldn’t care less. Pamela helps dressing you, tying your robe before she gets into her own pajamas.
“You want any snacks or water?” She asks.
“No thank you. Just wanna lay with you.” You blush. You’re still shy around her and she finds that adorable.
“C’mere, baby.” You climb into bed with her and the two of you spend the rest of the night watching TV before passing out in each others arms.
Not even done writing Bella Donna and I'm already thinking of ideas for book 2. On this episode, its Catherine Valeria & Bella Donna at the beach. Specially my idea of iPhones for vampires, iVamps, and special vampire sunscreen. Looks at my beloved wives🤭❤️
Hi!! I love your wlw work and would love stepmom!Pamela Anderson who has a secret relationship with reader, and she sneaks into her room one night for some fun. Also a mommy kink if thats ok! ok have fun!
Pretty Baby
A/n: Im so sorry this took so long, anon!
Pairings: Stepmom!Pamela Anderson x fem!reader
Warnings: smut 18+ ONLY, stepcest, oral (r receiving), mommy kink, dom!pam, sub!reader, age gap (Pam is 30 something and reader is 19)
Honestly, your life couldn’t be more normal. You go to school, hang out with friends, read gossip magazines, and watch TV. Except for the fact that your stepmom is Pamela Anderson.
And the fact that you’ve had a secret relationship with her for quite some time now. Somehow, your dad hasn’t found out about it. And you were scared to know what he would do if he did find out about it.
You didn’t know what to do about your situation? Tell someone? But what could they do? You’re 19, it’s not illegal. And you do consent to it. Albeit, not verbally.
One night you’re lying in bed about to fall asleep, clutching your stuffed rabbit when you hear your door softly open and shut. The dip in your mattress lets you know she’s there. Her soft hands caress your form over the comforter before you finally sit up.
“Hi, baby. Did I wake you?”
You rub your eyes, “I mean…I was about to fall asleep.”
“Im sorry honey. Maybe I can make it up to you? You’ll be sleeping really good afterwards.” You can’t help but nod, your panties dampening at the implications.
Pulling off the blanket, Pamela leans forward and presses her lips to yours, kissing you passionately. You moan into the kiss, both of your hands getting tangled in each other’s hair. Then she starts kissing down your neck, sucking on that sweet spot that makes you weak.
“Mommy.” You moan out and she grins in satisfaction. She loves when she gets you in this headspace. Where you submit to her completely.
“Yeah, sweetie? What do you need?” She asks in a soft voice.
You buck your hips towards her hand that’s settled between your legs. She chuckles softly, “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want.” Slowly, she pulls up your pajama shirt revealing your breasts. Your stepmom immediately goes into kneading them and twisting and pulling your nipples.
You cry out when her mouth closes on one, biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh. You throw your head back, eyes screwing shut and hand tangling more in her hair.
Once she gives both sides equal attention, she slides down your body before pulling your pajama bottoms and panties off. Instinctively, you spread your legs for her and she licks her lips at your wet core.
“Look how pretty. Mommy’s girl has such a cute little pussy.” She licks a bold stripe against it making you cry out, especially when she begins tonguing you down with repeated strokes all the way up to your clit. You grip the sheets and your stuffed rabbit as you relish in the taboo pleasure. This was so so wrong. If this got out…
But at this current moment, you can’t find it in yourself to care. Because the way she’s eating your cunt was so good, you don’t care if the whole world can hear your cries.
“M-mommy Im gonna cum!” You shout, covering your mouth to try and silence yourself.
“Come on, sweetheart. Cum for mommy.” The coil inside you snaps and you buck your hips up, your vision going white for a split second. Taking deep breaths you slowly come back down from your intense high, Pamela licking you clean as always.
“Good girl, baby.” She smiles as she covers you back up and tucks you in, giving you one last kiss on the lips, “Goodnight princess.”
Warnings: strap-on use, oral fixation, outside sex, accidental voyeurism, fluff and smut, porn with little plot, vaginal fuck
Word Count: 2,597
(Just conjured this during a very horny time, I ain't ashamed lol ;) )
Masterlist // AO3
From the beachhouse balcony, Pamela could see everything that lay on her property's perimeter. Especially her beloved garden in the corner of her eye in the distance, something she had dreamt of for decades to have her own. Pamela slowly trotted down her beachhouse steps, admiring her little life. Still waves hitting the shore of rocks, greenery growing rapidly around her property as far as the eye can see. Pamela’s enclosed garden grew closer on the horizon. She hired a gardener 6 months back, and they grew close and fond of each other. Mace was digging new holes to plot this year's latest crop of vegetables. The bright sun beaded down on her bare shoulders. Pamela watched intently, weaving her fingers along the wired fence. Pamela’s eye was glued to the way Mace’s body moved as she dug another hole. Her biceps flexed as her wrist turned the shovel. Mace’s tits bounced in her plain white tank top as she stood up, turning to the wheelbarrow. She’d never admit she watches them, but they’re so obvious. Mace dug her boots in the soil as she jumped back.
“Jesus, Pam! I’m getting you a bell for Christmas.” She laughed, holding her chest. “Aw, I’m sorry, honey-bunny, you were deep in work, huh?”
“Of course,” She breathed out, wiping a drop of sweat from her forehead. “Maybe if someone got down on her knees and helped me for a bit, I wouldn’t be so focused.” Mace joked, adjusting her belt. Mace was obviously butch, from the way she presented herself in fashion, and the way she stood in front of Pamela. Her dark-wash jeans were covered in fresh soil, and Mace’s white tank top, once tucked in her jeans, crawled up her stomach. “Haha! You’d love that, wouldn’t you, on my knees? I was busy this morning, but I can help now.” Pamela grabbed her gardening gloves from the wheelbarrow standing beside Mace.
“Whoa there, I never thought it like that, but if you’re offering.”
“Haha, shut up. You couldn’t handle me, Macey.” Pamela knelt and began digging a hole. Mace rolled her eyes and handed Pam seedlings. “Darlin’, I could handle you if you let me.” Pamela looked up at Mace in surprise. It wasn’t uncommon for Mace to make perverted jokes; Pamela was used to it. She found them funny and liked how comfortable Mace was around her. “Mace, sometimes I have no clue if you’re joking or not.” Pamela got up from the soil so Mace could fill the holes. Mace cracked a cocky smile, something Pamela’s very aware of from spending so much time with her. “Because you never take me seriously, Pammy.” They chuckled together, growing silent between them as they moved to another project. Deeper into the garden.
An hour or two later, Pam and Mace surrounded themselves in the center of the garden. Enclosed off from the outside world in their own little peace. Pamela’s peace, Mace nurtures it. Cares for it as deeply as she does. Not because she’s a good gardener like Pamela, but it means everything to Pam. Not once would Mace like to hinder the happiness she had built.
Mace panted, getting off the ground, feeling lightheaded as usual. Not because something was wrong with Mace, she had a bad habit of forgetting to eat throughout the day. She inhaled deeply, trying to make it stop. A low growl escaped her stomach, echoing through the trees. “Hungry aren’t you?” Pamela took off her gloves, shaking the dirt off. She peeled off her grey sweater, revealing a white spaghetti-strapped tank top and light linen pants. “No, why’d you ask?” Mace blinked hard, leaning next to a gate covered in vines.
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Mace. You’re sweating more and look pale. I know for a fact you got dizzy again. When did you eat last?” Pamela accompanied Mace beside the gate as her hand reached out to squeeze Mace's bicep. Pamela saw Mace as her own person, of course, even if the media didn’t see it that way. See, Mace drew media attention on one of the outings she and Pamela had. Paparazzi and fans speculate that Pamela found someone who resembles a certain famous tatted-up ex-husband, but Pamela knew Mace and her ex were different people. Behind Mack’s dark hair and tattoos was someone completely different. She’s softer, gentler and wiser than her ex. Mack’s young, but she has a good head on her shoulders. It was screwed on right, for the most part.
“Shit, I dunno, Pam. Maybe last night at dinner before we went to bed.” Mack fluffed her hair away from her forehead. Pamela found it cute or sexy. She couldn’t tell. Pamela was on the fence about her feelings toward Mace. She couldn’t tell if she actually liked Mace romantically or if it was just a feeling of proximity. Constantly around Mace, that is. Recently, she’s tested the waters to see how Mace responds. “Jesus Christ, Mace!” Pamela patted dirt off her linen dress before swatting Mace’s arm. “It’s almost dinner time as it is!”
“Maybe you need to entice me with supper.”
“Entice you? I’m scared to ask how.” Pamela’s cheeks flushed as she brushed her knee against the lump in Mace’s jeans. Thinking nothing of it, space in her baggy jeans. Mace always bought a size too big. Until this time, when there was something hard that greeted her knee. Pamela wanted to feel again, just to check she wasn’t going crazy. Pamela raised her knee again as Mace caught it.
“What? Nervous twitch, or are you trying to win me over? Cause you already won.” Mace’s hand tightly gripped Pamela’s thigh, making her crotch slam into the lump in her jeans. Pamela winced, feeling the lump wasn’t empty. It was hard, but once Pamela relaxed against Mace, the blow softened. “Curious, actually, I know you buy men's jeans and well–...they’re always big in the zipper area. Looks like you're always rockin’ a boner, haha!”
“Always got one around you, I suppose,” Mace joked, staring up in the trees watching a few loose leaves fall. “Smartass! Literally, what’s going on with the jeans?”
“You wanna entice me, right? Entice this.” Mack adjusted her belt buckle before unzipping her jeans, letting a very realistic cock slip out of her denim. If Pamela didn’t know better, she’d think it was real and not a dildo. “Oh, my god. Macey.”
“What? I felt like wearing it. The harness is new.” Mace’s smile grew ear to ear at Pamela’s reaction. From shock to pure intrigue. “Oh? And what, you thought if you broke it in, you’d get lucky?”
“Pam, you know me by now. What do you think?”
“I shouldn’t be surprised at this point, you want that broke in, right? And I want you to eat. Let me entice you then, huh?” Pamela moved softly, standing in front of Mace, her pinkie grazes the toy's shaft. Pam looked around, in fear that someone might be there. However deep they were in the garden, Pamela was still paranoid. She dipped down, landing on her knees in the soft soil. Her Persian roses hit her body as she fell. Pamela locked eyes with Mace. For only a millisecond, they both stared at each other in adoration. Pamela’s lips parted, letting Mace’s cock slide in her mouth. Taking the realistic dildo fully, its rubber skin moves back as her tongue runs up the shaft. Disappearing at the base. Mace’s hands involuntarily reached out to Pamela’s head, stroking each strand of her hair. Watching Pamela’s eyes lock with Mace's made every part of her body heaten, especially heating her lower body.
Pamela gagged sloppily, slipping Mace’s dildo out of her mouth. Drool pooled out the corner of her mouth. “Oh, Mace, this feels so real. You sure you haven’t been hiding anything important from me?” Pamela remained on her knees, flicking Mace’s dildo. As it bounced up and down, Mace chuckled, swiping her thumb across Pamela’s lower lip. Her thumb was coated in spit. “It’s as real as you imagine it is, darlin’.” Her thumb never left Pamela’s lower lip, slowly tapping the tip of her thumb. Pamela knew what Mace wanted. Mace always gushed over how soft Pamela’s lips were and how naturally glossy they were. Claiming she never needed lip balm, but Pam insisted. Pamela cocked her head down, letting Mace’s thumb slip past her lips in her mouth. Mace groaned, feeling Pam’s warm mouth suck on her thumb. Sucking the same way she once did on Mace’s cock. Mace almost lost it, finally feeling Pamela’s motions.
“You like this better, don’t you?” Pamela licked the tip of Mace’s thumb. “You know what would be better, darlin’?” Pamela’s chuckle was short and sweet. “I have a few ideas.” She hummed. Lifting herself off the soil to pull her plain linen pants down past her ankles. Revealing a cotton white thong. “Better?” Pamela smiled, spinning around to show off her ass. “Very much so, though, I have a better idea.” Mace’s hand pulled the thong down, snapping it back under Pamela’s ass. “Mace!” Pamela giggled as she arched a brow. “Well, let’s see if it feels real in other places, huh?” Pamela flicked her finger to make Mace follow behind her.
Mace followed as they took a step or two before turning towards the gazebo in the heart of the garden. It wasn’t much. Pamela had a metal table and chairs made of the same iron, but recently, Mace built a little two-seat sofa made of old pallets. It was modest, but Pamela helped with the upholstery. Pamela peered around her surroundings slightly before prompting herself on the sofa. Pamela was a sweet-natured woman, of course, but it meant people thought she turned into a prude. As if everything she said or did in the 90s and 2000s wasn’t true or just a character she created. She may act like an angel in public now, but behind closed doors, she hasn’t changed a bit. Pamela would only let certain people see this side of her if she fully trusted them.
With that thought, Mace towered over Pamela as she got comfortable on the sofa. Mace peered down, observing how the sun hit Pam’s bare shoulders so softly; the gazebo gave shade, hiding Pamela’s freckled cheeks. Pamela leaned back on the sofa as the sun travelled past her shoulders and illuminated her breasts. Every inch of her skin looked soft under Mace’s touch. She didn’t know where to start.
“You gonna keep staring, or are we going to finish what you started?” Pamela looked up at Mace through her brows, raising her knee close to her torso, planting her foot on the sofa seat. Her little landing strip of hair peaked out as her hips shifted. Mace’s secret obsession was bushes, Pamela knew, but had some restraint. She wasn’t ready to go full out. Even though it would make Mace the happiest and horniest butch in the world. Mace’s smile grew as her hand raised to her mouth, spitting on her index and middle fingers. Dropping her hand to her strapon, coating her mostly wet dildo. “Oh, we’re gonna finish, that’s for sure.” Mace’s hands on Pamela’s thighs, keeping them off the sofa. Mace arched her hips slightly as the tip of her dildo grazed her lips. Mace’s hand dipped, holding the dildo's shaft pointedly as it slowly stretched Pam’s pussy open. Pam let out a small gasp as she cooed out a breath.
“Oh-...that’s it y-you’re-…good job.” She blew out another breath as her manicured nails pressed into Mace’s biceps. Mace slowly continued as her dildo fully disappeared, only letting the dildo’s ball press against Pam’s ass. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, keep going.” Pamela’s thumbs circled Mace’s biceps. Mace moved her hips back as her dildo, before it fully slipped out, Mace rocked her hips forward, less soft than before. Beginning to thrust back and forth. Pam’s cheeks heated under Mace’s body. Her soft breaths became harder to silence.
“Aw, shit! M-Mace.”
“Uh huh.” Mace concentrated as she gained her rhythm. “Real enough for you huh?” Mace panted. “You like my cock?”
“F-fuck yea…” She whined, locking her eyes with Mace’s. “It is your cock…oh god.” Mace silenced a laugh under Pam’s reaction as she increased her thrusts. The sounds between them grew louder. Pam’s wet pussy began to soak the fabric of the sofa. Pam’s grip on Mace’s shoulders tightened. Mace leaned forward, making the pair turn slightly, allowing Pam to get on her back. Mace increased her thrust vividly, as Pam held her thigh close. Every muscle in Mace’s body flexed over Pam’s, as Pam’s jiggled under Mace’s in the same motion.
“Remember, it’s mine. My cock.” Mace gritted; she didn’t want it to come out as a growl, but it did in the moment. Her concentration was on other matters at hand.
“I-fuck…yes, I know!” Pam whimpered as the sun cascaded along her blonde hair as her head moved. Her moans evolved to screams. Mace almost stopped to make sure she’s alright, but Pam moved quick, wrapping her calves around Mace’s waist, holding a tight grip, keeping her in place. “Don’t! Don’t stop!”
Mace nodded in reply as her free hand crept past Pam’s hip to her neglected clit, already throbbing from the friction of Mace’s harness. Mace’s index and middle fingers brushed her clit. Pam jumped, her back arched forward, making both hers and Mace’s heads smack together. The pain was momentarily as Mace landed on her back against the sofa. Pamela leaped on top as her hand forcefully grasped Mace’s hand.
“Don't stop, don’t you dare! Keep rubbing my-...my!” Pam continued riding Mace’s cock. Mace enjoyed the view better than before, not because Pam’s tits were eye level, but also because she loved seeing Pam come undone by this. She and Pam share the burden of overthinking, so seeing Pam not thinking too hard about what she is doing always made her smile. She wasn’t overthinking in the moment; all she was thinking about was her own pleasure. It wasn’t hard with Mace there. Her pleasure was Mace’s top priority.
“As you wish, Pammy.” Mace continued her strokes, Pam’s grip tightened. It felt like her heart pumped in her hand. “Fuck! M-Mace! I’m…cumming!” She inhaled deeply as if the air were precious. Pam’s body tensed mid-ride until she dropped on Mace’s. Her body vibrated as the orgasm hit every nerve ending.
“Shit…I may begin to have a headache.” Pam whispered against Mace’s shoulder. “Haha! I thought you’re supposed to say that before, not after?”
“No, not like that!” Pam giggled. “The sun was in my eyes when you had me pinned down.”
“Aw, poor baby. Maybe a little nap in the house will do you good.” Mace cooed dramatically, stroking Pamela’s back. “Maybe, as long as you join me.” She sat up, fluffing her hair, but stopped in her tracks. Mace looked puzzled before responding. “What’s wrong? Can’t find your clothes?”
“No…I found them. My assistant is holding them.” In that remark, Mace sat up to see what she was staring at. Two feet away from the gazebo, Pamela's assistant stood with her clothes in hand. With an expression Mace couldn’t read. Either embarrassment or pride.
“How long have you been there?!” Mace adjusted her belt, stuffing her dildo under her head jeans as Pamela covered herself with her hands. “A while…I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“So you watched?!” Both Pamela and Mace said in unison. “Jesus!”
