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Chivalry isn’t dead.

It just has tattoos and a carabiner.

Butch Coded

hanging out and drinking with a butch in her room when she jokingly puts her beer bottle through the crotch in her jeans. she's sitting across from you on the bed. youre tipsy and eyeballing her, trying to ignore the thoughts that creep in. she's cackling like it's the funniest thing in the world. waving it back and forth like- ugh. it's silly. she's just messing around. but youre thinking about what the bottle would look like replaced with a strap. or maybe even getting in her lap and taking the cap off with your te- "open it."

what? you look up; startled out of your thoughts. must've been staring too long, you think. "w-what?" it comes out in a stutter and you're mentally banging your head against the wall. "open it, the beer." it's like she was there inside your head. you wonder if you were really that easy to read. but your eyes are wide and she's staring at you expectantly. your face and ears are getting hot, and you can tell that she can tell how bad she's got you. you try to think of something to say, but you can't. might as well do what you're told. right?

slowly you crawl over to her spot on the bed. her legs spread to make room. her eyes follow you as you get closer; watch your hands as they go past her hips to hold yourself up. you debate keeping your head down, but her hand comes up to tap your chin and lift it up to meet her eyes. her dark gaze is overwhelming. she doesnt say anything, but you can see her chest quickly rise and fall. trying to keep her composure, just as you are. the fact that she isn't saying anything turns you on more. it's as though she knows that you will follow her lead wordlessly.

you try to maintain eye contact as you reach for her crotch and your lips meet the cool touch of the bottle cap. finally you muster up some confidence to give her something back. you decide to tease her as if it was a strap. you go in to kiss the cap and you can see a smirk forming at the corner of her lips. shuddering at the sight, you keep going. licking a stripe up from the base and back to the top. maybe it was a little gross and dirty, but you loved it. couldnt get enough of it, and neither could she. she grabbed the hair at the back of your head, as though it was the scruff on your neck - like a dog. you were practically panting as you wrapped your lips around the bottle cap, latched your teeth onto it and twisted. it had already been opened, so there wasn't much work left to be done. you spat it out on the side of the bed and turned to get the bottle back in your mouth. as you pulled it out of her jeans, she realized what you were doing and helped you tip your head back. you finished off the bottle. she pulled it out from your mouth. a string of spit connecting you to the bottle, drool escaping your lips along with your tongue. you were dizzy and so, so turned on. she admired you for a moment before pulling you in for a kiss.

still chasing that abby anderson build

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Thinking about how fun it'd be to go to a concert with a femme... standing behind them with one arm draped around their chest, occassionally squeezing at their shoulder to let them know I want another kiss. My other hand at their hip, fingers tucked in their waistband to keep their ass pressed firmly against my hips. Acting completely oblivious to the fact that when I sway with the music, my new packer nonchalantly rubs against their ass...