Filthy Little Vignettes: SDV Edition
(Emily x M! Farmer)
NSFW: Minors DNI!
Firelight danced across the wooden walls of the farmhouse, casting a warm glow over the cluttered room. The farmer’s bed was a tangle of quilts, the floor strewn with seed packets and a half-polished hoe leaning against the wall. Outside, the Pelican Town night hummed with crickets, the air heavy with the scent of earth and spring blossoms. Emily stood in the doorway, her blue hair catching the fire’s flicker, her patchwork skirt swaying as she leaned against the frame, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
“You’ve been working too hard, farmer,” she said, her voice a lilting tease, vibrant as the crystals she loved. “All those crops, animals, mines… when do you make time for fun?”
The farmer, sprawled in a chair by the fire, looked up from the glass of wine he’d been nursing. His hair was mussed from a long day, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a sliver of sun-kissed skin. “Fun?” he said, his voice warm, a grin tugging at his mouth. “I thought harvesting turnips was the height of excitement.”
Emily laughed, a bright, musical sound that filled the room. She crossed the space in a few fluid steps, her movements graceful, almost dance-like. “Oh, you’re hopeless.” She stopped in front of him, close enough that he could smell the faint lavender on her skin, mixed with something wilder, earthier. “Lucky for you, I’m here to fix that.”
Before he could respond, she reached out, her fingers curling under his chin, tilting his face up to meet her gaze. Her eyes, bright and commanding, held a playful heat that made his pulse quicken. “On your knees,” she said, her tone light but firm, a challenge wrapped in a smile. “I have something for you to do.”
The farmer’s grin widened, but he didn’t hesitate. He slid from the chair, dropping to his knees on the worn wooden floor, his hands resting lightly on her hips. Emily’s smile grew, her fingers threading into his hair, tugging gently to guide his head closer. “Good boy,” she murmured, her voice dripping with approval. She lifted her skirt, bunching the colorful fabric in one hand, revealing smooth thighs and the soft, bare skin beneath.
The farmer’s breath caught, his hands tightening on her hips. He looked up at her, her face framed by the firelight, her expression a mix of playfulness and hunger. “You’re trouble,” he said, his voice low, rough with want.
“And you love it,” Emily shot back, her fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer. “Now, be useful.” She guided his face between her thighs, her stance widening slightly, her body radiating confidence. The farmer didn’t need more encouragement. His lips brushed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, teasing, before his tongue found her, warm and slick with arousal.
Emily’s gasp was sharp, her head tipping back as she steadied herself against his shoulders. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice a soft moan, her fingers raking through his hair, holding him firmly in place. “Just like that.” The farmer’s tongue moved with purpose, slow at first, savoring her taste—sweet, musky, uniquely her. He flicked lightly, then pressed harder, his lips sucking gently, drawing a low, shuddering moan from Emily’s throat.
Her grip in his hair tightened, not painful but commanding, keeping him exactly where she wanted him. “You’re so good at this,” she purred, her voice a mix of praise and tease, her hips rocking slightly against his mouth. The farmer’s hands slid up her thighs, gripping her firmly, his fingers digging into her soft skin as he worked, his tongue circling, teasing, relentless. Emily’s breaths grew ragged, her moans louder, filling the quiet farmhouse with the sound of her pleasure.
The firelight played over her skin, highlighting the flush creeping up her chest, the way her lips parted as she gasped. “Don’t stop,” she said, her voice hitching, her fingers tugging his hair harder. The farmer hummed against her, the vibration sending a jolt through her body, and she cried out, her thighs trembling around his face. He could feel her getting closer, her movements more desperate, her grip almost possessive. His tongue moved faster, more precise, and when he sucked gently on her clit, Emily’s moan was raw, unrestrained, her body shuddering as she came, her fingers clutching his hair like a lifeline.
She rode out the waves of her climax, her breaths heavy, her body trembling against him. The farmer didn’t pull away, his lips softening, kissing her gently as she came down, her fingers loosening in his hair, stroking now, almost tender. “Not bad,” she panted, her voice warm with satisfaction, a playful edge returning. “But we’re not done.”
She tugged his hair, pulling him up to his feet, her eyes glinting with mischief. The farmer stood, his own arousal evident in the tight strain of his trousers, his face flushed from pleasing her. Emily’s hands were on him in an instant, pushing his shirt off his shoulders, her nails grazing his chest as she backed him toward the wall.
She pressed herself against him, her lips crashing into his, tasting herself on his tongue. The kiss was hungry, fierce, her hands roaming his chest, then lower, deftly undoing his belt. The farmer groaned into her mouth, his hands finding her hips, but Emily was in control, her movements confident, playful. She pulled back, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “Against the wall,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
The farmer obeyed, stepping back until his shoulders hit the rough wooden wall of the farmhouse. Emily was on him in a heartbeat, her hands tugging his trousers down, freeing his aching cock. She wrapped her fingers around him, stroking slowly, teasingly, and he groaned, his head tipping back against the wall. “Emily,” he said, his voice rough, pleading.
“Shh,” she murmured, her lips brushing his ear. “I want you inside me.” She hiked her skirt up again, her legs wrapping around his waist as he lifted her, her back pressing against the wall. The farmer’s hands gripped her thighs, supporting her weight, her warmth pressing against him, slick and inviting. Emily’s arms looped around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair again, pulling his face close.
“Now,” she said, her voice a playful command, her eyes locked on his. The farmer didn’t hesitate, guiding himself to her entrance, pushing into her with a slow, deliberate thrust. Emily’s moan was loud, her head falling back against the wall, her legs tightening around his waist. “Yes,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Harder.”
He obeyed, his hips snapping forward, driving into her with a rhythm that made the wall creak behind them. Emily’s moans filled the room, her body rocking against his, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. The farmer’s hands gripped her thighs tighter, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, the heat of her surrounding him, driving him wild. Emily’s hands roamed his hair, tugging, guiding, her playful dominance never wavering.
“You feel so good,” she purred, her voice breathless but teasing, her legs pulling him closer, deeper. She leaned forward, kissing him hard, her tongue tangling with his, her moans muffled against his lips. The farmer’s thrusts grew faster, more desperate, the sound of their bodies colliding mixing with the crackle of the fire outside. Emily’s fingers tightened in his hair, her body trembling as she neared the edge again.
“Make me come,” she said, her voice a low, commanding whisper, her eyes burning into his. The farmer groaned, his hips moving harder, faster, his cock hitting just the right spot inside her. Emily’s moans grew higher, more frantic, her legs shaking around his waist. With one final, deep thrust, she came, her cry sharp and raw, her body clenching around him, pulling him over the edge with her. He groaned, his release spilling into her, his hands gripping her thighs as they shuddered together, pressed against the wall.
They stayed there, panting, her legs still wrapped around him, her forehead resting against his. Emily’s laugh was soft, breathless, her fingers stroking through his hair gently now. “You’re not bad for a farm boy,” she teased, her voice warm, playful.
He chuckled, his breath ragged, his hands still holding her up. “And you’re trouble,” he said, kissing her softly, tasting the sweat on her lips. “The best kind.”
Emily grinned, unwrapping her legs and sliding down, her feet touching the floor. She tugged him toward the bed, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Rest up,” she said, her voice a playful promise. “We’ve got a long night ahead.”
