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women yearn for women MINORS AND MEN DNI

[wlwyearningsblog]

I need her to pin me down in bed, her voice low and commanding as she takes what’s hers. Her fingers circle my swollen clit first, just firm pressure that borders on painful in the best way. Then she shoves two fingers deep inside me, curling them hard against that sweet spot until I’m shaking… crying from how fucking good it feels.

[wlwyearningsblog]

I adore it when she tells me how much she wants me, how much I turn her on, how wet she becomes listening to my moans, and how desperately she craves me.

[wlwyearningsblog]

Please treasure the people who let you speak.

Treasure the ones who listen to the smallest things you have to say - the silly, casual little thoughts, the things that seem insignificant, and the things that feel huge. Treasure the people who let you talk about whatever is on your mind, who let you ramble and yap endlessly about your interests, your worries, your passions, your day. The people who never make you feel like you’re too much. Who never tell you to stop talking or make you feel like you have to shrink yourself to be worth listening to.

Being given a space where you can simply speak and be heard is such a precious kind of love. Hold onto the people who give you that.

[wlwyearningsblog]

Let your submission be cherished, treasured, and deeply appreciated for the gift that it is - never treated like something you owe or are obligated to give. It should always be something you choose to offer, something that is valued because it comes from you, not something expected or taken for granted.

[wlwyearningsblog]

I’m not joking when I say she’s mine. I’m so ridiculously possessive over her, and I don’t even want to pretend otherwise. She’s my girl, my favorite person, and I want her all to myself.

[wlwyearningsblog]

I miss her all the time. Even when she’s right here with me, even when she’s talking to me, I still miss her somehow. I feel like I could be glued to her side 24/7 and I’d still find a way to miss her.

[wlwyearningsblog]

Mommy’s desperate girl.

The whole day felt long. I kept glancing at her during the day.

At breakfast I “accidentally” brushed against her arm when reaching for coffee. At lunch sat too close on purpose. Dinner dragged on. Every bite tasted like nothing because all I could think about was her.

I sidled up to where she sat reading in the living room and pressed myself against her side, cheek nuzzling into her shoulder like a cat begging for pets.

She didn’t push me away, but she also didn’t immediately react the way I hoped. Still focused on her book, turning pages like my neediness was just background noise.

That stung. So I got bolder. My arms slid around her waist, squeezing gently as I buried my face in her neck. A test would she finally look at me?

After a few seconds of that - no reaction, I huffed quietly. Then, with zero subtlety, I pressed an open-mouthed kiss right below her ear. Finally her eyes flicked down to meet mine, and for the first time all day she smiled that small, knowing smile she gets when she realizes exactly what I want...

The book clicked shut. She set it aside slowly, deliberately and turned her full body toward me. One hand lifted to cup my cheek, thumb brushing over skin.

“You’ve been quiet all day” she murmured… and oh god that tone. She knew I’d been craving her touch for hours.

Before I could even answer or beg the other hand slid into my hair, tilting my head back. Her lips hovered inches from mine. I closed the distance, crashing my mouth against hers in a kiss that was equal parts desperation and relief.

I melted completely against her, hands fisting in the fabric of her shirt like I could fuse us together if I held on tight enough. The kiss grows heated, and without breaking it, I shift straddling her lap fully now. My thighs bracket hers as the need becomes unbearable.

"Mommy... please” a shaky plea. "Touch me… please touch me..". She doesn’t answer with words, her hands slide down my sides slowly… then lower, tracing the curve of my hips.

Her fingertips brush over the waistband of my pants, teasing but she doesn’t go further. Not unless I ask properly. And I know exactly what she expects.

“Please”, I gasp again, arching into her touch. “Please Mommy… touch me there. Please let your fingers-“. My voice cracks, begging has never felt so desperate.

She finally reacts - her palm slides down to press flat against my lower stomach, right above where I really want her.

“Like this?" she asks quietly making me say it. I nod frantically, cheeks flushed, before finding words: “Yes… please Mommy”. Then, because she loves hearing it I add: “I’m yours, I need you”.

Her hand slips lower… fingertips hooking under the waistband of my pants. The fabric slides down slowly not rushed at all. She takes her time, watching my face as she reveals skin inch by inch.

“You’ve been such a good girl today” she murmurs, "So patient… waiting for me”.

The moment her fingertips graze my bare skin, I gasp already soaked, sensitive from hours of pent-up need. The second she makes contact with my clit through panties I grind down instantly - chasing friction.

She hums in approval, feeling how wet I am even through the fabric. Her fingers press harder now, circling with just the right amount of pressure. “Someone’s desperate” she teases.

The second her thumb makes direct contact, a loud whine tears from my throat unfiltered and shameless. I’m so sensitive after holding back all day that even the lightest touch feels overwhelming.

Her voice drops to that low, commanding purr: “Tell me what you need” firm. Making sure I say it out loud, begging properly before she lets me come...

I writhe in her lap, hips bucking involuntarily, chasing the friction but never getting quite enough. My breath comes in short, punched-out gasps.

“Mommy- I need-” Words fail for a second, overwhelmed by how close I already am. Then finally: “Please let me come” I whimper, pressing my forehead to hers as tears prickle at the corners of eyes.

She loves seeing me like this: a trembling, begging mess in her lap. But she doesn’t give in immediately.

“One more time” she murmurs, thumb pausing its circles. “Say it properly for Mommy." The kind of tone that makes my stomach flip because I know she won’t relent until I perform perfectly.

I swallow hard, lips trembling as I force the words out-clear and pleading: “Mommy, please... let me come. Please.. pretty please! I need it so bad-”. My voice cracks on the last word. “You can, my girl” she says calmly and watches me fall apart in her arms

[wlwyearningsblog]

Quiet obedience.

I sit cross-legged on the bed, she’s already kneeling in front of me. I reach out slowly… two fingers extended toward her lips.

“Open” I say with that steady calm tone she knows means no arguing. She obeys instantly - those pretty lips part for me without question.

My fingertips press gently against them, then slide into warm mouth. "Good girl”. My fingers withdraw from her mouth, glistening slightly. I trail them down, slowly tracing the curve of her jaw, then her throat letting the anticipation build.

Then finally… I press those damp fingertips to the entrance of her pussy, not pushing in yet. Just resting there possessively as eyes lock onto hers: “Breathe for me”. A soft command while I’m letting her body adjust naturally under my watchful gaze.

She whimpers - a tiny sound of frustration or longing and I smile faintly. “Patience”, I murmur gently.

She bites her lip, then finally whispers: “Please... Mommy”. So sweet and needy, It makes my chest tighten.

I tilt my head slightly, studying those pleading eyes, before slowly pushing one finger inside just an inch to test how wet she already is for me...

Her breath hitches as I sink the first finger deeper slowly, watching her face for every flicker of pleasure or hesitation. She exhales a shaky: “Mommy..." more plea than a word.

I add a second finger carefully, stretching her gradually with gentle curls. She squirms slightly because it’s too much, yet not enough all at once and I hum: “You’re doing so well” rewarding that quiet obedience.

Her hips twitch upward instinctively begging silently for more friction, more depth, but I hold my fingers still.

“Ask properly” I say softly, tilting her chin up with my free hand. My thumb brushes her cheek as I wait.

She whines first, then finally: “Please… Mommy. Please move your fingers. Please touch me right”. So polite in begging it almost makes me melt.

I finally start moving my fingers properly. Slow, deep thrusts now each one curling just right inside her. Her back arches off the bed silently, she doesn’t dare make noise without permission. But her eyes wide and glazed, staring up at me like I’m everything.

I lean down, capturing those pretty lips in another kiss while pumping faster. The rhythm shifts suddenly - I speed up my fingers, thrusting deeper and faster now. “Look at me” I order and she obeys instantly, eyes locking onto mine.

My thumb finds her clit, rubbing tight circles in time with each finger-pump, exactly how I know she needs it.

Her breath comes in shallow gasps, body tensing like a coiled spring. That’s when I lean down close to whisper against lips: "Come for Mommy”.

Her body obeys before her mind even processes it - back bowing off the bed as she shatters. A silent scream parts her lips, eyes squeezed shut for a second before fluttering open again to stare at me - dazed and overwhelmed.

I don’t stop my fingers, not yet. I ride out every pulse of her pleasure, slowing gradually. My thumb gentles on clit, soothing now.

A soft kiss lands on sweaty forehead when she finally goes limp beneath me utterly spent but safe in my arms.