The butch knight who’ll do anything and everything for his femme princess, currently tucked underneath a table in her large, private study with her dress hiked up to her thighs and panties underneath tugged to the side. The knight’s tongue and lips relishing in the princess’s sweet taste, thanking her for this over and over while one hand held firm on the book she was reading and the other in his hair. Nails biting at his scalp with each little ache he could taste in her dripping pussy.
**Not proofread, I wrote this at 10pm on a whim plz be nice.**
This one is for femmes that love butch cowboys. 🤠
It might be fun to bat those lashes and flash that pretty little smile around town. But when you see a familiar dashing butch cowboy with tired brown eyes and a darling little dimple when they smile…. Don’t steal their hat.
It might be tempting. That wide brim looks so good against their sun-tanned skin. You’d look darling wearing it paired with a cute little dress and a pair of boots.
Just before you make contact with the felt her hand closes around your wrist. Not hard enough to hurt, just firm enough to hold. It sends a shiver down your spine.
“Easy darlin’,” the cowboy drawls, eyes bright with something unspoken. “Can’t just go grabbing at a cowboys hat now. People will talk.”
Pouting will earn you only small smile and you refuse to settle for anything less than what you want. So you take the challenge in those tired looking eyes and snatch the hat off that butch’s head faster than an unmarried woman in love at a wedding bouquet toss.
The thrill of victory courses might course through your veins while you twirl around with your prize. Replaced by the buzz of nerves when you catch the flash of something dark in the cowboys eyes. He says nothing and makes no moves to stop you as you rest the hat on your brow and shoot him a coy smile.
“Maybe we should give them something to talk about then Cowboy.” You crook a finger at him, enjoying the unimpeded view of their handsome features without the shadow of that hat.
You’re not quite sure what made you feel so brave. Maybe it was good old fashioned liquid courage. Or maybe all the encouragement you needed was the right pair of brown eyes to look at you with quiet intensity. Whatever it was, you’re rewarded by your bravery tenfold.
Two drinks and half an hour of teasing on the dance floor of your favorite watering hole later… your brown-eyed butch cowboy sets his hat more firmly onto your head before readjusting their grip on your hips.
“You wanted to wear it so bad darlin” he drawls, slamming the full length of his silicone cock back into your pussy again. And again. And again. “So keep my hat on your pretty little head and keep riding, Cowgirl.”
A smart retort dies in your lips when a calloused hand makes purchase with your ass. Instead, a surprised little squeal slips out and you clench around her strap. And the sting of his settles so nicely into a dull burn.
“Let ‘em hear you darlin. We’re supposed to be giving the bar a show, remember?” Their hand makes purchase with your ass again and you’re sure that come morning you’ll be left with red marks. But the burn feels delicious and right now you don’t care about the consequences of your actions.
“You and I… we’re gonna remind everyone what happens when you try taking a cowboy’s hat.” His words are steady as he talks you through it; almost gentle. The stark contrast of how ruthlessly they fuck into you makes the edges of your mind fuzzy.
“A man’s hat is sacred, you see,” they murmur into your ear. “And you don’t just go round touching someone else’s hat, it’s like playing with their heart.”
You have to wrap both arms around sturdy, sun-kissed shoulders to keep from turning into a puddle right then and there. All you can manage as a response are breathless little uh, uh, uhs in time with his thrusts.
“Now… sometimes a cowboy will place his hat on a pretty little thing he fancies. As a way to tell others he’s got an interest.” At some point. You’re not entirely sure when. He reached between your legs to toy with your clit. “But he’d just as soon punch the fella that lays a hand on his hat without permission.”
You knew the rules already, your father and two brothers were all cow rustlers. You knew it was trouble to take his hat to begin with. But damnit, you’d seen something you wanted and decided to take a chance. Claim what you wanted. And you were so glad you did.
If you’d known that staking your claim on what you wanted could go so right you might have been braver sooner. The truck creeks and sways, fogged windows a telltale sign to passersby to mind their own business.
Once you’d ridden your prize past a couple well earned orgasms you’re stretched out on the bench seat of her truck between their denim-clad thighs. Your body aches in the best way and you can’t help but smile as your newly claimed cowboy presses his lips to your neck and wraps warm, strong arms around you.
“Sorry I stole your hat.” You’re lying through your teeth, you weren’t sorry in the least and you got exactly what you wanted. Your butch made quick work of exchanging phone numbers and you were sure this would be the first time of many you’d ride this particular cowboy into the sunset. You would personally ensure it by taking that wide brimmed hat again if necessary.
femmes,,, bro femmes r so freaking,,, i would get on my knees and do anything a pretty femme asked me to do 😭 i want nothing more than to worship a femme pls i'm so down bad and gay
YOU, yes you insecure femme or butch, repeat after me.
My Identity doesn't have to be validated from anyone, just me.
I don't own anyone an explanation for the way I express my masculinity/feminity.
I am myself and that's more than enough.
I respect myself by validating myself because I matter.
I'm me and no one will tell me otherwise.
I'm butch enough.
I'm femme enough.
I own my identity.
There is always someone out there who feels like me and is happy to understand me.
I'm not alone.
I'm the ideal version of myself and I refuse to change to fit the standard.
I'm my own standard.
Pineapple pizza is the worst— WHO SAID THAT.
Okay, okay, I'm sorry I just hate it. But seriously, listen to me dyke! You're everything and yet you feel like nothing, you need to see yourself as the precious diamond you are!
I sometimes see femmes or butches feel like they are not enough because of many things. Those things at the end, are so silly and don't determine what's femme and what's butch.
Because being butchfemme it's all about self Identity and self love.
Treat yourself right and the label will feel right! Love your femmeness and love your butchness! Fuck all the things people have told you about not being enough, are they butchfemme to understand what you go through? No! So they don't matter! You know what matters? YOU.
And remember, you are not alone. You're truly never alone, look back at older lesbians, they're just like you and me, or they're completely different, but that's our beauty, isn't it?