Belly button pic plz 🙏🏼 I need something to worship 😫
Today’s yoga class was heavily core focused - my fave type of class 🤭
Gotta keep things nice and toned 😉
perfect, but still needs to be punished 🪶🕯️🧊⛓️

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@midriffiction
Belly button pic plz 🙏🏼 I need something to worship 😫
Today’s yoga class was heavily core focused - my fave type of class 🤭
Gotta keep things nice and toned 😉
perfect, but still needs to be punished 🪶🕯️🧊⛓️
Limits
As she twirls her fork and raises another mouthful to her lips, leaning over the table takes a slight, but noticeable extra effort. A warm weight at her center cushions her in her seat. She chews, savors carefully, and swallows. It's a slow journey down, and she's uncomfortably aware of the tight squeeze between her ribs before more brimming warmth blossoms and settles in the pit of her stomach. She tilts back with a heavy sigh and her hand wanders immediately underneath her shirt, coming to rest on the gently swollen curve of her full belly. Content, she rubs in lazy circles, glancing around for prying eyes as her fingertips already tease at the edges of her belly button, its soft insides pushed closer to the surface, enough to feel a queasy, but pleasant resistance when a fingertip presses deeper.
Her plate isn't empty, but she needs a moment. Her breath comes in measured, rhythmic waves, her high waistband straining rough against her skin as her abdomen swells outward with each inhale. Can she finish? There's a dull ache, a gentle shifting in her gut that demands attention. The sight of her belly full enough to rest in her lap summons thoughts of lounging somewhere soft and comfortable, baring her midriff to a cool breeze and both her warm hands, soothing oil cascading down to pool in her wide-open navel.
Her reverie is interrupted by a sudden presence at her side, and before she can compose herself, an extra helping drops onto the plate, golden noodles soaked in sauce and teeming with garlic and spices. "You're doing so good. Have a little more." a voice murmurs. They breeze away before she can protest, and savory steam is already wafting over her palate. Her stomach is quiet, full to comfortable capacity, its soft surface pressed just slightly against the edge of the table, a band of skin just visible under her tighter-fitting top...but she lifts her fork again.
Here's a fantasy for you, belly lovers. This has a little of everything - belly play, navel play, breeding, light feederism, hinted sub/dom dynamics. Definitely nsfw.
Flashing my belly to the entire friend group was a complete accident. At first I thought no one had seen.
"Hold still." His neck strains and his pulse is audible with the back of his head pressed to the wall. She leans closer and the delicate hood at the upper edge of her navel threatens to graze the tip of his nose. He draws in a shallow breath and involuntarily tilts his face down, greeted by a clear view of every detail of the inner surfaces, soft lines and creases joined into a sultry star at the center of her innie.
She grabs his collar and holds him in place, her thumb tracing slow paths across his throat. "Too close. What did I just say?" He bares his teeth and clenches his fists in his lap. With a mocking smile, she stretches back, hips sinking and belly pulling inward, her navel narrowing into a dark oval before opening wide, inviting, as she exhales, peering down as she places two fingers on either side of her belly button and pulls the rim in a slow, gentle circle. He fails to avert his eyes and stares deep.
"If you don't behave I-" her voice tapers to a squeal as he lunges with both hands for her waist, her fingertip tugging her belly button upward into an eager slit, making way for his burning tongue to drag desperate up the soft trail leading inside, the tip forcing itself tight all the way to the core of her navel, flicking hungry and rough against the fine details - she can feel it pulsing near her spine. He snarls, hand firm on her back to push her close against his face, breathing heavy between deep, lingering tongue kisses, his free hand spreading her belly button with its palm pressed to the curve of her lower belly.
Her nails clutch the nape of his neck and the pace slows, he shudders and gasps with his forehead to her solar plexus. Both catching their breath, he lets his fingers wander over her bare skin, drawn inevitably back to the glistening edges of her navel, caressing the lower rim and slipping inside, pulling away and immediately returning. He leans back, arm around her waist, to take in the full view of her midriff rising and falling, belly convex with every deep inhale. His hand is poised beneath her navel, his gaze locked to it. "Hold still."
Attention
"Are you listening?" No, not even remotely. Not for lack of trying or care, but the words blend together into sweet nothings he would walk over hot coals to hear clearly. The reproachful tone barely drags him back to reality, only to be met with the same vision that sent him wandering off in the first place, the dark cleft of her deep navel beckoning just below the rumpled edge of her shirt, the way the fabric hangs for dear life to the contour of her waist.
It's a shameful effort to force his eyes to meet hers, his gaze threatens to drop down her body and focus, settle, probe deep where he knows it belongs. As she rolls her eyes and turns elsewhere, his body betrays him and hand meets hip, palm presses pleadingly against lower belly and guides her close enough for him to bury his face in the shallow crook of her flank. Both bodies tense at the lightning bolt of sudden touch but her step falters and her hand, unsure but calm, comes to rest on his forearm, his rough cheek reveling against her smooth skin. Breath slows to a heavy sigh, a rise and fall deep in her core as his attention remains, as always, with her.
Taking belly button cleaning to a whole new, sexy level 😍
Spring
Just when it seemed winter would never end, life returned. It felt queasy, unfamiliar, but its pulse was undeniable.
Pent-up yearning becomes eager tinder at the first sight of bare skin. Layers shed to reveal the smooth, supple expanse, dreams of tender touch rumbling close to the surface. Soft contours drawing inward to the valley of origin, of fluttering sensation and breathless laughter. Deep satisfaction full to the brim under aching softness.
Sorely missed, long awaited, hope settles at the core.
Summer
Does it count as staring if it's your peripherals? He sips his coffee, pretending to fuss with his keyboard. He hasn't written anything for at least ten minutes. Across the quiet cafe, she stretches again, tipping her chair back. The streaks of sunlight pouring in through the windows seem to center on her torso, as her baggy sweatshirt rides up just enough to give him a long glimpse of her belly button. The soft curve of her lower belly rests comfortably on the hem of her sweatpants, pressing down on it slightly as she takes a deep breath. His pulse starts to pick up.
He isn't quite stealthy enough - she catches him watching out of the corner of his eye and they both blush, their eyes darting to pretend to be looking anywhere else. While he mimes typing, hunched sheepishly over his laptop, she does some watching herself. Her stomach growls quietly, full and content. Almost on instinct, her hand drifts under her shirt and cradles her midriff, rubbing in absentminded circles. Secretly, they both picture their hands layered on top of each other, his fingertips slipping past her navel, poking a little deeper each time.
She rises and slings her bag over her shoulder, glancing in his direction one last time. When his gaze meets hers, she shifts her shoulders, stretching out the kinks in her back, making sure that her sweatshirt rises and falls just enough to flash her deep navel a couple of times, her belly bouncing as she moves her hips, enough to almost make him break out in a sweat. He imagines himself on his knees, her hands gentle but insistent on his shoulders as he presses his lips against her warm skin. She turns to leave with a smile, and the heat from outside settles in his chest as he decides to keep daydreaming
don't get me wrong I'm glad the crop top is continuing to have a cultural moment but it's also making me act like the tasmanian devil
The heat makes it easier to daydream. Her words drift through his mind - "stop and think of me..." He lets the crowd carry him, and he looks for her in everyone else. Henna designs dance on bare skin all around him, and he pictures drawing the brush slowly down her tummy, in an agonizing spiral around her belly button, imagines her muffled gasps and the way her body rocks as she fights to hold still. Someone's hip grazes against his wrist and he shivers, wishing it was her, how he would lift his hand just enough to tickle her as she slips past. Handmade jewelry for sale...something sparkling wrapped around her waist, hanging tassels giving her little chills as she walks. He can almost feel her lifted up on his shoulders, her midriff so close but just out of reach...until he lowers her back into his arms, presses his lips against her navel for just a second before she slips away, and he chases the thought of her through the crowd.
well here’s an evil lee idea… definitely for the brats in the audience…
Tying your ler to a chair or to the bed.
Sit on their lap and bring yourself closer to them, leaning into their ear and whisper to them, begging to be tickled.
Describe all the ways you’d want them to force you to laugh, pull giggles out of your lips, make you squirm under their hands, make you beg for their mercy.
Pretend to not notice them trying to get out of their bondage, ignore their little “threats” to let them out.
And just Keep begging them to tickle you to their heart’s content, even though they can’t lay a hand on you…~
wow🤩
@ all my ler friends, how would you react to this scenario? Yay or nay? 😜
don't get me started 🥴 torture me until I can't take it. Let me loose or I break free, either way there's going to be fireworks 🔥
They spill through the door, tangled together, arms around shoulders. The same thought on both minds - "I overdid it..." But it doesn't matter. They have their hands on each other and they made it home. He pulls her in for a kiss and she bites his nose, her body shuddering as she tries to laugh through the drunken haze. He grins wide, barely keeping his footing. His hand easily slips under her shirt and fingers dance across her lower belly. As she throws her head back and sways back and forth, not sure herself if she's trying to escape tickles or lean into them, he lets her fall against his chest, his arms encircling her. She breaks free and spins to face him, teetering backwards. "You'll have to work harder than that." Her laughter rings out as he drops to his knees and clumsily hooks an arm around her waist, his fingertip meeting her navel like a key and lock.
My personal tastes and a blank version - free to use for all