ellieslittlewh0re - Tumblr blog

[ellieslittlewh0re]

thank you for 1000k notes!! 🩷✨

Please write some skin to skin with Ellie. I need a break from her strap!! Whew <3

yes!! I totally understand where your coming from 😩 I miss the good ol fashioned bumpin & grinding 🩷

𝖺/𝗇 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 <𝟥

𝑺𝑲𝑰𝑵𝟐𝑺𝑲𝑰𝑵 𝒆.𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔.

જ⁀➴ 𝐬𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 <𝟑

જ⁀➴ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 (𝖽𝗎𝗁), 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 & 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺

It was still early in the morning, the sun just barely breaking on the horizon, and dew drops stuck to your shared bedroom window from the summer humidity.

Ellie stirred awake, rubbing her eyes as she adjusted to creeping daylight, and then she saw you. Your bare shoulder, and how the light highlighted your silhouette, all the way down your bare sides.

She felt bad of course, after a night where she let her jealousy and insecurities overwhelm her, she ended up saying some things she regretted- things she didn’t mean.

Her hand caressed your shoulder, and down your arm, you were still asleep, but she didn’t intend to let it last long.

She loved you, cared so deeply for you, and you just made perfect sense to her.

Maybe it was her insecurities talking again, but she had to make it up to you, now.

She scoots closer to you on the bed, her bare chest on your back, and her arm wraps around your front, her lips now on your shoulder.

This is when you start to finally wake up, her restless kisses making it impossible to ignore.

You hummed as your eyes blink open, and you quickly remember last nights events.

Sure, you were still upset. It wasn’t unforgivable, but you wanted to make her work for it.

“Baby?” She said, quiet and a little rough, and you ignored her, tucking your face away further into the pillow so she couldn’t see your face.

Another kiss is felt on your shoulder, and then another one a little higher up, and they kept coming until her lips were in the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered into you, her warm breath making the skin on your arms tingle.

You extended your neck, giving room for her to continue her surge, and a smile kept onto Ellie’s lips, knowing that not only you were awake, but you were inviting her.

Her soft pecks turned wet, her tongue sliding across your skin until it turned into gentle suctioning, and her hips perfectly snug.

You hum again as Ellie’s hand finds your breast, gently rolling the fat between her fingers, taking extra caution around the sensitive nerves.

Her breathing starts to pick up in your ear as her hips are rolling into you, grinding her cunt into your ass, and her hand also became more frenzied, finding its way into your panties, and sliding a index finger between your sticky folds.

You moaned in response, eyes still shut, and wrapping a hand around to pull on the back of her thigh in need of more.

Luckily for Ellie, you didn’t make her work nearly as hard as you should have because her boxers were growing increasingly tight and uncomfortable, sticking and clinging to her cunt as she continued to hump you from behind.

Boby parts begin to stick, her forehead resting on the back of your shoulder, and her thighs against yours. She was relentless with her wrist, but the angle wasn’t favorable.

You’re rolled onto your back, and she’s climbing on top of you, finally abling a kiss, all the while using one of her hands to slide her boxers down the length of her legs, not bothering to take them the rest of the way off as they dangled from one of her ankles.

Your eyes opened the rest of the way, seeing her as she lowers her lips to your chest, planting open mouthed kisses, and you whine as the kisses turned brutish- sucking, and her teeth grazing your nipple as she pulls away.

She gets lower, her bottom lip ghosting the pudge of your lower stomach, “Can I?” She asks, so sweetly, and so unsure, wanting nothing more to get closer to you in any way possible, but never fully satisfied.

You nodded, and it took her no less than a second to hook her pretty fingers around the hem of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them elsewhere with little importance to neither of you.

It started sweet with the trail of kisses up your inner thighs, her warm hands hooking around you, and all her adoring vows spewed between the flicks of her tongue.

See, Ellie loved you- loved fucking you, but it was one of this mornings where her growing itch was starting to physically ache.

She lifts herself, and in your dazed-out haze, you give her a look of confusion, but she’s pulling and pushing at your legs, spreading them until the inner muscles started to sting.

“Ellie, what are you-?” You started to ask, but she pretty much answered your question as she swung a leg over one of yours, her hands on your knees, and lowered herself onto you.

A sharp breath is exhale from your lungs, and a sigh from hers.

“M’sorry, babe… couldn’t wait anymore.”

Her freckled forearm was now covered in raised, pinkish scratches, both from you pulling her closer, and pushing away in overstimulation.

“Ellie… I’m gonna-“ You try to speak, but your voice fails you, coming out in a series of small little wines.

She comes down, her trembling arms barely able to hold herself up, but still continues the wave-like motions of her hips- in and out, gently rolling like a tide against the sea shelled bottom.

She kissed your cheek, a tinge of saltwater on her tongue as her lips lazily rested against your temple,

“I know, baby, me too. Together, yeah?”

She straightens herself, one of her hands pushing on the inside of your knee, ensuring full contact. And it seems so obvious in times like this that you’d always forgive her so easily- kaleidoscopic eyes peeking through dark lashes, her hip bones protruding behind alabaster skin, and the hypnotizing manner of her muscles under strain.

Ellie’s jaw clenched, digging a little harder, and rutting a little faster as her climax approaches, both greedy for her own release, but also sympathetic towards yours.

Almost ritualistic in nature, she repeated your name, and you with hers, your bodies practically conjoined as she collapses on top of you.

Once the air returned back to her lungs, she rolls off, and is opening her arms for you to take position.

And, of course, you do, nuzzling in beside her, and her hand is in your hair, stroking gently at the stands.

This is how your morning came and went, wrapped around your girlfriend, and limbs intertwined, softly snoring away the daylight, and Ellie’s heartbeat being your melodic departure.

i’m so bad at endings I’m sorry but none the less, I hope you enjoyed 🩷

[ellieslittlewh0re]

Please write some skin to skin with Ellie. I need a break from her strap!! Whew <3

yes!! I totally understand where your coming from 😩 I miss the good ol fashioned bumpin & grinding 🩷

𝖺/𝗇 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 <𝟥

𝑺𝑲𝑰𝑵𝟐𝑺𝑲𝑰𝑵 𝒆.𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔.

જ⁀➴ 𝐬𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 <𝟑

જ⁀➴ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 (𝖽𝗎𝗁), 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 & 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺

It was still early in the morning, the sun just barely breaking on the horizon, and dew drops stuck to your shared bedroom window from the summer humidity.

Ellie stirred awake, rubbing her eyes as she adjusted to creeping daylight, and then she saw you. Your bare shoulder, and how the light highlighted your silhouette, all the way down your bare sides.

She felt bad of course, after a night where she let her jealousy and insecurities overwhelm her, she ended up saying some things she regretted- things she didn’t mean.

Her hand caressed your shoulder, and down your arm, you were still asleep, but she didn’t intend to let it last long.

She loved you, cared so deeply for you, and you just made perfect sense to her.

Maybe it was her insecurities talking again, but she had to make it up to you, now.

She scoots closer to you on the bed, her bare chest on your back, and her arm wraps around your front, her lips now on your shoulder.

This is when you start to finally wake up, her restless kisses making it impossible to ignore.

You hummed as your eyes blink open, and you quickly remember last nights events.

Sure, you were still upset. It wasn’t unforgivable, but you wanted to make her work for it.

“Baby?” She said, quiet and a little rough, and you ignored her, tucking your face away further into the pillow so she couldn’t see your face.

Another kiss is felt on your shoulder, and then another one a little higher up, and they kept coming until her lips were in the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered into you, her warm breath making the skin on your arms tingle.

You extended your neck, giving room for her to continue her surge, and a smile kept onto Ellie’s lips, knowing that not only you were awake, but you were inviting her.

Her soft pecks turned wet, her tongue sliding across your skin until it turned into gentle suctioning, and her hips perfectly snug.

You hum again as Ellie’s hand finds your breast, gently rolling the fat between her fingers, taking extra caution around the sensitive nerves.

Her breathing starts to pick up in your ear as her hips are rolling into you, grinding her cunt into your ass, and her hand also became more frenzied, finding its way into your panties, and sliding a index finger between your sticky folds.

You moaned in response, eyes still shut, and wrapping a hand around to pull on the back of her thigh in need of more.

Luckily for Ellie, you didn’t make her work nearly as hard as you should have because her boxers were growing increasingly tight and uncomfortable, sticking and clinging to her cunt as she continued to hump you from behind.

Boby parts begin to stick, her forehead resting on the back of your shoulder, and her thighs against yours. She was relentless with her wrist, but the angle wasn’t favorable.

You’re rolled onto your back, and she’s climbing on top of you, finally abling a kiss, all the while using one of her hands to slide her boxers down the length of her legs, not bothering to take them the rest of the way off as they dangled from one of her ankles.

Your eyes opened the rest of the way, seeing her as she lowers her lips to your chest, planting open mouthed kisses, and you whine as the kisses turned brutish- sucking, and her teeth grazing your nipple as she pulls away.

She gets lower, her bottom lip ghosting the pudge of your lower stomach, “Can I?” She asks, so sweetly, and so unsure, wanting nothing more to get closer to you in any way possible, but never fully satisfied.

You nodded, and it took her no less than a second to hook her pretty fingers around the hem of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them elsewhere with little importance to neither of you.

It started sweet with the trail of kisses up your inner thighs, her warm hands hooking around you, and all her adoring vows spewed between the flicks of her tongue.

See, Ellie loved you- loved fucking you, but it was one of this mornings where her growing itch was starting to physically ache.

She lifts herself, and in your dazed-out haze, you give her a look of confusion, but she’s pulling and pushing at your legs, spreading them until the inner muscles started to sting.

“Ellie, what are you-?” You started to ask, but she pretty much answered your question as she swung a leg over one of yours, her hands on your knees, and lowered herself onto you.

A sharp breath is exhale from your lungs, and a sigh from hers.

“M’sorry, babe… couldn’t wait anymore.”

Her freckled forearm was now covered in raised, pinkish scratches, both from you pulling her closer, and pushing away in overstimulation.

“Ellie… I’m gonna-“ You try to speak, but your voice fails you, coming out in a series of small little wines.

She comes down, her trembling arms barely able to hold herself up, but still continues the wave-like motions of her hips- in and out, gently rolling like a tide against the sea shelled bottom.

She kissed your cheek, a tinge of saltwater on her tongue as her lips lazily rested against your temple,

“I know, baby, me too. Together, yeah?”

She straightens herself, one of her hands pushing on the inside of your knee, ensuring full contact. And it seems so obvious in times like this that you’d always forgive her so easily- kaleidoscopic eyes peeking through dark lashes, her hip bones protruding behind alabaster skin, and the hypnotizing manner of her muscles under strain.

Ellie’s jaw clenched, digging a little harder, and rutting a little faster as her climax approaches, both greedy for her own release, but also sympathetic towards yours.

Almost ritualistic in nature, she repeated your name, and you with hers, your bodies practically conjoined as she collapses on top of you.

Once the air returned back to her lungs, she rolls off, and is opening her arms for you to take position.

And, of course, you do, nuzzling in beside her, and her hand is in your hair, stroking gently at the stands.

This is how your morning came and went, wrapped around your girlfriend, and limbs intertwined, softly snoring away the daylight, and Ellie’s heartbeat being your melodic departure.

i’m so bad at endings I’m sorry but none the less, I hope you enjoyed 🩷

[ellieslittlewh0re]

workin on a lil request rn!! hopefully yall didn’t forget about me 😩

[ellieslittlewh0re]

i cannot stress enough how important it is to show writers that you like their work. leave a comment, reblog, send asks. it’s the least you can do after reading someone’s work for free that they’ve put all their time and effort into.

[ellieslittlewh0re]

so real

ཻུ۪۪♡.🎀°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

farm!ellie placing you on her and dinas bed while dinas in the other room folding laundry, rubbing you through your clothes and pushing her front to your ass while it's scorching hot outside, melting, really. slipping her rough hand underneath your beige cotton shorts and covering your mouth as you whimper in search of some friction, whispering "shut up... i'm sorry, you have to be quiet", faux apologetic as she merely softly scratches your slit that is growing wrenched with the pads of her fingers. kissing your neck and wetting it with her warm saliva, licking it up and disgustingly placing her leg on your side in order to rub against you even more, cause this isn't about you -- this is about her, her pleasure and her disgusting, selfish, yearn to cheat on her loving wife with the girl who's really just the help, nothing more. you hear dinas footsteps outside of the room and the laundry basket bumps againt the door which makes you yelp, thinking you're about to get caught-- you have morals alright, but the other woman pressed against your back just hugs you tighter and squeezes, shushing you like she's pissed off that you dared to even move away from her grip, and says "jus' shut up and make me cum, she's not gonna see us, just shut up", holding and squeezing the fat of your tits like you're some kind of doll she's taking advantage of.

the air feels moist and the bed squeaks, your ears are burning and so are your cheeks, you're guilty, turned on, desperate beyond measure, and all you can focus on is ellie's hectic whispers of "yeah, like that"

[ellieslittlewh0re]

I’m religious now????

Hiii btw 🩷

[ellieslittlewh0re]

Katy O’Brian and Kristen Stewart for Them (2024)

[ellieslittlewh0re]

Kristen Stewart & Katy O'Brian in 'LOVE LIES BLEEDING' (2024)

[ellieslittlewh0re]

"lesbians for a free Palestine"

downtown Ottawa, Ontario, Canada

[ellieslittlewh0re]

Do you know what happened to the fic that was like a psycho Ellie at a boarding school?????

I think you’re talking about the one by lolasimms??She took down all her stuff I’m not entirely sure why 😔

[ellieslittlewh0re]

self reblog ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

HELP PALESTINE dono links, educate yourself, how to help

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝒇𝒊𝒏.

₊˚ପ⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝖮𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖱𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖶𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝖠𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

₊˚ପ⊹ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒.

₊˚ପ⊹ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉 (𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝖽-𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝟥𝟢'𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝟣𝟫-𝟤𝟤 𝗂𝗌𝗁) 𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒, 𝗌𝗎𝖻 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝗎𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾 (𝗋!𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀), 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 (𝗋!𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀) 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄/𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝖻𝖼 𝗂𝖽𝖼 𝗅𝗈𝗅

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟣 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟤 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟥

Another couple of weeks came and went.

Abby still kept her distance, and you did what you were hired to do.

The first weekend after the kiss was painfully, and irrevocably delicate. With her son being away at his dad’s, and Abby not being able to hide away at work, there was no distractions, which only made it worse.

You two would dance around each other, trying your best to look the other way when passing each other in the halls or in the kitchen, but her eyes would linger when you weren’t looking.

It felt like you were tormenting her with your short skirts and your sheer, tight-fitting tops.

How could she NOT look?

She started to feel like she deserved it for leaving you on the bed that day, all breathless, and heavy eyelids, weighed down by lust.

Abby thought she was doing it for the right reasons, you know… not mixing work with play, but over the past few days, she realized it wasn’t that at all.

She wanted to be prepared.

So while you were taking care of her son, feeding him, bathing him, and teaching him how to spell his own fucking name, she was out buying a strap to fuck you with.

Whether she was going to go through with it or not, she wasn’t sure.

But her time to decide was running out. It was the weekend again, the house quiet and clean, which means you weren’t busy, and neither was she.

It was one of those evenings where you could hear the crickets chirping from the tree line that surrounded the house, fireplace lit and dim.

You were sitting on the bed of your room, which became your more preferred hanging out spot since the kiss, not wanting to face the possibility of a more straightforward rejection from Abby.

And Abby was in the kitchen, two empty glasses in front of her, and her palms face down in the counter.

This is so stupid, she kept telling herself, her eyes glancing between the glasses and the bottle of liquor.

She poured some into one, and brought the rim to her lips, swallowing all of it with the tilt of her head.

Has it really come down to needing liquid courage to face you? Yes. Yes it has, but not because she was scared or nervous. She had a good thing going with you here, and didn’t want to scare you off or taint the image of her you had in your head.

She wanted to live up to your expectations.

For Abby, even if things didn’t go in that direction tonight, and instead became more of a peace offering to be in your good graces again, the anxiety felt worth it.

So, she poured more into her glass, and put it back, but not before getting out a more palatable alcohol from the cabinet, and rummaging through her fridge for a juice to mix it with.

She eyeballed as she poured a couple of shots into the empty glass and filled the rest with more pleasurable-tasting liquid, taking a deep breath as she grabbed the glasses from the counter and made her way to your room.

She tapped on the slightly opened door with the back of her knuckle, and waited for your response before pushing the door the rest of the way open.

“Hey,” She smiled, meeting your eyes, to which you happily greeted her back, closing the book you were previously reading and setting it down.

Her eyes widened, then furrowed, scanning her eyes down your body at the tank top, and shorts you were wearing.

“Shit, were you about to go to bed? I’m sorry.” Abby, once again, felt dumb. Of fucking course you were. It’s late, and she suddenly felt like she was intruding your space, momentarily forgetting that it was her fucking house, and you’re no different than a tenant.

But she never thought about it that way, at least, not since she first saw you.

“Wha-?” You looked down, and crossed your arms over your chest to hide whatever modesty you had left, “No, no…. It’s okay. I wasn’t.”

Good.

You scooted to the end of the bed, dropping your arm because hell, you wanted her to see.

You watched her eyes for a falter, a hint, anything, but they maintained contact with yours. You didn’t make it easy for her though, wearing clothes that left little to the imagination but covered just enough to have her feening, imagination running wild at the idea of undeniable access.

Abby cleared her throat, and extended her arm, “Made you something.”

You take the glass from her hand, giving her a confused smirk, and take a sip.

She sat down beside you a safe distance, but close enough that you could smell the pine aroma of her body soap.

“Better?” She asked, keeping the conversation light, and steering away of anything that might drive you away.

But you weren’t dumb, you knew she was only here to “clear the air”, but a part of you still held onto the hope she changed her mind.

“Much better.”

You continued to sip to fill the empty spaces between each nervous glance and chuckle, letting the alcohol warm you from the inside out, and Abby did the same.

Abby’s thumb twirled around the rim of her glass, looking down at the rippling surface before looking back up, “I’m sorry about the other day.” She spoke softly, and genuinely, her bottom lip pouting more prominently than it usually did.

“It’s not like I haven’t thought about it, it’s just-“ She paused, looking forward, and exhaled a deep breath, “You’re young. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

This caught you off guard, but it made perfect sense. Abby has always been respectful and cautious about the topic, but you also felt relief that it wasn’t as one-sided as you originally thought.

You weren’t being delusional after all.

The confirmation of her attraction towards you gave you a new sense of confidence. “How do you know I’m not the one taking advantage of you?” You asked in a hushed voice, sweet, crystallized sugar on your tongue as you leaned in, and shit-

Abby liked to think she had more of a backbone- a moral compass to help resist her temptations, but that flew out the window as soon as you did this.

Abbys eyes darkened, flickering between your parted lips before meeting your gaze, perhaps to get the go ahead signal from you but your lips were already on hers, which was good enough for her.

You’re pushed back slightly and let Abby’s tongue take control, her hand on your thigh and thumb vanishing under the hem of your shorts, squeezing the fat dangerously close to your cunt.

Her hand moved to your face, cradling the space between your cheekbone and neck, pulling you into her before breaking away, “Let’s move this to my room, yeah?” She breathed, her voice excreting an excitement that she tried hard to withhold, but it still found a way to remain firm like it wasn’t a question at all.

And all you could do was nod, head already fuzzy, and a feeling of sticky discomfort between your thighs.

Abby led you to her room, her hand in yours and your smaller strides following closely behind her larger ones.

You’re sat on the edge of the bed, and she kneels before you, never breaking eye contact. And honestly, you couldn’t look away even if the embarrassment and nauseating flutter in your stomach wanted to, being so captivated and eager to comply to her every demand.

Her hand followed the curve of your calf down before coming back up, and she rubbed her palms over the soft plush of your thighs, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps.

Her lips grazed the inside of your knee, placing a gentle kiss, “Can I taste you?” She asked, so sweet that it could’ve been mistaken as asking to borrow a cup of sugar, but the reaction it had on your body (and your pussy) said otherwise.

An uncontrollable squeak emitted from your throat,

“Y-yes…”

Her hands squeezed the tops of your thighs, molding your flesh between calloused fingers before focusing on your waistband.

You lifted your ass as she tugged, pulling the pants down the length of your legs and past your ankles and dropping them to the floor.

“Oh my god-“ She groaned, marveling at the sight of your pretty pink panties, now made see-through with your own arousal, “All this from a few kisses? You’re dirtier than I thought.” She sneered, moving closer. And how hypocritical of her to say that when she’s not much better off at this point.

“Abby… please.” You whined, lifting your hips from the mattress in an attempt to find some relief.

Abby was also impatient, and as much as she wanted to take her time, treat you right, she also just simply wanted to please you.

She looped her finger behind the crotch of your panties and pulled it away from your cunt. You sucked in a sharp breath, sinking your weight back on your elbows, and squeezed the sheets between your fingers as she did this. The cold air hitting the new skin sends a chill across your limbs.

Something happened inside of Abby’s body. It’s one thing to see it, but to feel it?? Feeling the effect she had on your body- how wet you were, and how she could practically feel you try to suck her in even though she barely made it past the first knuckle… It was primal. A inextinguishable fire that kept burning brighter with each passing breath.

Your body is yanked down, ass pulled to the edge of the bed, and your thighs are thrown over her shoulders, her arms locking in around them.

You yelped at the sudden difference, looking down at her with a worried expression, but your head immediately falls back as her mouth encapsulates your clothed pussy.

You moaned, eyes disappearing into the back of your head.

She sucked, hallowing her cheeks around your bundle of nerves, and used her tongue to soak you through your panties with her spit.

Once again, she pulled the fabric down, tightening it flush with your cunt, and licked you through the ribbed cotton, letting your flavor seep into her mouth through the barrier.

But her patience was thinning. She needed to taste you properly, and she needed her hands free so she could hold your wriggling legs in place.

“I’m sorry” Was all she said, and you didn’t even have time to process it before you felt a harsh yank against your hips and the sound of fibers tearing apart.

-

Inhale, exhale.

Your wines hoarse, mouth dry. Crescent-shaped indents carved into Abby’s forearms and hands from your nails that were desperately grabbing at her- overstimulated and clit throbbing after the third orgasm of the night.

And she hasn’t even fingered you yet.

Her mouth detaches, and you sigh a breath of relief, but even with her absence, an uncomfortable buzzing still lingered.

She came up, placing both hands on the beside your face, and kissed you, slipping her tongue inside to give you a taste of yourself still on her tongue.

She started kissing you down your neck and chest, one of her hands sliding underneath your shirt, “Can you handle more?” She asked, lips grazing the surface of skin above your collarbone.

Inhale, exhale.

“Y-yes.” You nodded, tightening your legs around her hips, pulling her in because even though you were ran dry, you still craved the pressure of her inside.

She connected her lips with yours, and her hand placed itself around your jaw, cradling it. It was slow, patient, but also overpowering, made you feel even smaller somehow.

She pulled away, her lips still ghosting over yours, “Good girl.”

She gets up and turns away, disappearing behind the bathroom door, and leaves it open a few inches before re-entering a short time later, except nothing could have prepared you for this.

Inhale, exhale.

Shiny leather straps hugged her hips, dipping around the backside of the boxers and accentuating her ass, accompanied by the black silicone standing between her legs, big enough that it suited her size, almost seeming natural on her.

Your cunt clenches, and your thighs rub together as she approached.

Inhale, exhale.

She climbed on top, and your legs immediately open for her, welcoming her between them, and wrapping around her backside.

She was already inside, sinking herself in a couple of centimeters at a time and pausing in between to give you time to adjust to the girth.

Inhale, exhale.

You whined, nails etching across her back, and she was quick to soothe you with another kiss, “We shouldn’t do this.” She breathed between pecks but made zero attempts to stop it- in fact, she snapped her hips forward, filling you up with the last of her until the base was flush with your cunt.

-

Skin slapping against skin, beads of sweat tracing the edges of Abby’s forehead, and both of your legs hogtied together by her arm, holding them against her body, your feet dangling in the air.

Your ass wasn’t even on the bed at this point since she was quite literally holding you up, instead using her strength and size to her advantage to get the perfect angle inside of you, using you like you were her own little fuck doll.

It was rough, tender, but rough.

She’d check in on you, chanting little praises like how you were doing such a good job, but she’d also spew out a symphony of possessive remarks.

“Whose pussy does this belong to, hm?” And you’d muster the very little strength you had, mumbling exactly what she wanted to hear, your eyes rolling to the back of your fucking brain.

“That’s right… s’mine.” She’d grunt, picking up her pace, and slamming her hips into the back of your thighs, her strap bulging against the surface of your tummy.

“A-Abby…” You whimpered, but it hardly sounded like anything at all. You reached her hand that was squeezing you-holding you by the thigh, using it like a fucking handle to drill her cock into you.

“Abby..” you said again, trying to warn her of your impending orgasm, but she didn’t hear you, or she was just ignoring you because she doesn’t slow down, not even for a second.

Your eyes roll back before squeezing shut, limbs stiffening, “fuck, fuck, fu- ohmygod“ The plush of your bottom lip stung, edges of your teeth sinking into it before your jaw slacks. Your body trembles, hips bucking, but Abby still just holds you there and only pauses inside of you when your orgasm visualizes itself- a overflow of milky, viscous elixir seeping down the length of her strap.

She pulls out, dropping your legs to the mattress, and she’s panting heavily, the highs of her cheeks glistening against the warm glow of the lamp.

She’s hovering over you, kissing your cheek, and along your jaw.

She was being so, SO sweet, particularly because she felt bad for essentially bringing you to tears, but also because she was trying to make up for what she’s about to do next.

Her hands slip between the bed and your back, pulling you from it and lifting you up. Your legs are wrapped around her waist when your back hits a solid surface- the wall.

“Abby…” Abby you say, confused and still delirious, “what are you-?”

“Just one more… please. I know you can do it.” She was also delirious, words rushed and slightly slurred- trance-like, and dead set on being inside of you just to see how fucking dumb you get all over again.

It was like a drug to her, terrified of the consequences, the what-ifs, but once she tried it, she knew from then on she’d always crave more.

Now, she didn’t fucking care about the consequences.

This time, you initiated the kiss, and moan as her hands squeeze the fat of your ass, fingerprints breaking the blood vessels across your skin.

She pulls away, a loose strand of straight, golden hair blowing with her jagged breaths, “Tell me if it hurts, yeah?”

You nod, bitting down on your bottom lip as she lifted you higher, and angled herself below your cunt.

You cling to her neck as you’re lowered onto her cock, tears brewing at the corners of your eyes, and using her shoulder to mute yourself from crying out.

“Hey, hey… I got you“ She cooed, tilting her head so her lips were aligned with your ear, “You’re doing so good for me, baby. Just relax.”

Inhale, exhale.

Inhale, exhale.

She lowers you some more, hands gripping the underside of your thighs, and veins straining in her hands from the sheer amount of effort she was using to keep you steady.

You lock eyes with her, a pull between the center of your brows, and lips glossy with spit. You stretch around her, walls expanding to her size mixed with the new angle that proved to hit even deeper than before, which says a lot.

“That’s it… good girl.” The corner of her lips tug into an almost smirk, faint enough to miss it if you weren’t 5 inches from her face.

She started slow, scared to hurt you, and letting you grind your hips with her deep inside, but then she started to manually move you herself, lifting you and then guiding your hips as they came back down.

The pain was blinding, and casted white in the peripheral of your eyes. Your cheek slid across Abby’s shoulder, dampened by your tears, and that’s when she sped up.

You let out a cry, and your head goes back, slamming against the wall, but within seconds the pain lessens, instead being replaced by indescribable pleasure.

Abbys breathing heavily, her head resting in the crook of your neck, and yours hands interlocking behind her head.

It was so intimate, so vulnerable, and unlike anything either you have ever experienced in past relationships.

“Abby… I’m gonna- mmhm… gonna cum.” Your voice trembled, a rasp forming in your throat from the events that have transpired over the past three hours.

Sweat trickled between your tits, and strands of Abby’s hair stuck to her forehead in what seemed like a purposeful manner- swirled, and wave-like in design.

“I got you, I got you…” She said, her voice trailing off, becoming too focused on the stakes at hand.

See, Abby was scared of this night ending. Maybe it started as a forbidden crush in the beginning, but now?? With your eyes puffy, lashes wet and clumping together, and your pretty lips hugging her cock, she was no doubt in love.

You sing her name, pleading for her lips, and she immediately complied, kissing you as she both thrusted her hips into you, and moved your body up and down on her strap, surely bruising you for days to come.

As you come down from your orgasm, you loosen your grip on her, limbs feeling like jell-o, and she carefully lays you back down in the bed, leaving you for a moment to fetch a damp rag.

She’d be so gentle cleaning you up and leaving kisses across your chest and shoulders like her touch could reverse the deepening of the crimson splotches she left all over your body.

She’d also dress you, putting you in one of her t-shirts as soon as the opportunity comes because it’s something she has been thinking about for weeks at this point, not only the size difference between you two exciting her but also the fact that you’re wearing her clothes, which only makes her fantasy of you being her little wife feel that much more real.

When she’d determine you were sufficiently taken care of, she’d get in bed with you, pulling you into her arms with your back against your chest.

You hummed, a weak smile on your face and closed eyelids, falling into one of the best sleeps of your life.

Abby, however, didn’t.

Yes, she was exhausted, but all night as she held you, she couldn’t stop thinking about how the morning would materialize and how you’d react when she told you that she loved you.

𝗍𝖺����𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ೃ⁀➷ @aouiaa @macaroni676 @sheluvslilith @sapphicsuperstar444 @lmaoo-spiderman @williamsangel @falloutboy-lover @atyourmerci @mskbitch @r3starttt

[ellieslittlewh0re]

HELP PALESTINE dono links, educate yourself, how to help

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝒇𝒊𝒏.

₊˚ପ⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝖮𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖱𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖶𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝖠𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

₊˚ପ⊹ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒.

₊˚ପ⊹ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉 (𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝖽-𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝟥𝟢'𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝟣𝟫-𝟤𝟤 𝗂𝗌𝗁) 𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒, 𝗌𝗎𝖻 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝗎𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾 (𝗋!𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀), 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 (𝗋!𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀) 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄/𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝖻𝖼 𝗂𝖽𝖼 𝗅𝗈𝗅

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟣 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟤 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟥

Another couple of weeks came and went.

Abby still kept her distance, and you did what you were hired to do.

The first weekend after the kiss was painfully, and irrevocably delicate. With her son being away at his dad’s, and Abby not being able to hide away at work, there was no distractions, which only made it worse.

You two would dance around each other, trying your best to look the other way when passing each other in the halls or in the kitchen, but her eyes would linger when you weren’t looking.

It felt like you were tormenting her with your short skirts and your sheer, tight-fitting tops.

How could she NOT look?

She started to feel like she deserved it for leaving you on the bed that day, all breathless, and heavy eyelids, weighed down by lust.

Abby thought she was doing it for the right reasons, you know… not mixing work with play, but over the past few days, she realized it wasn’t that at all.

She wanted to be prepared.

So while you were taking care of her son, feeding him, bathing him, and teaching him how to spell his own fucking name, she was out buying a strap to fuck you with.

Whether she was going to go through with it or not, she wasn’t sure.

But her time to decide was running out. It was the weekend again, the house quiet and clean, which means you weren’t busy, and neither was she.

It was one of those evenings where you could hear the crickets chirping from the tree line that surrounded the house, fireplace lit and dim.

You were sitting on the bed of your room, which became your more preferred hanging out spot since the kiss, not wanting to face the possibility of a more straightforward rejection from Abby.

And Abby was in the kitchen, two empty glasses in front of her, and her palms face down in the counter.

This is so stupid, she kept telling herself, her eyes glancing between the glasses and the bottle of liquor.

She poured some into one, and brought the rim to her lips, swallowing all of it with the tilt of her head.

Has it really come down to needing liquid courage to face you? Yes. Yes it has, but not because she was scared or nervous. She had a good thing going with you here, and didn’t want to scare you off or taint the image of her you had in your head.

She wanted to live up to your expectations.

For Abby, even if things didn’t go in that direction tonight, and instead became more of a peace offering to be in your good graces again, the anxiety felt worth it.

So, she poured more into her glass, and put it back, but not before getting out a more palatable alcohol from the cabinet, and rummaging through her fridge for a juice to mix it with.

She eyeballed as she poured a couple of shots into the empty glass and filled the rest with more pleasurable-tasting liquid, taking a deep breath as she grabbed the glasses from the counter and made her way to your room.

She tapped on the slightly opened door with the back of her knuckle, and waited for your response before pushing the door the rest of the way open.

“Hey,” She smiled, meeting your eyes, to which you happily greeted her back, closing the book you were previously reading and setting it down.

Her eyes widened, then furrowed, scanning her eyes down your body at the tank top, and shorts you were wearing.

“Shit, were you about to go to bed? I’m sorry.” Abby, once again, felt dumb. Of fucking course you were. It’s late, and she suddenly felt like she was intruding your space, momentarily forgetting that it was her fucking house, and you’re no different than a tenant.

But she never thought about it that way, at least, not since she first saw you.

“Wha-?” You looked down, and crossed your arms over your chest to hide whatever modesty you had left, “No, no…. It’s okay. I wasn’t.”

Good.

You scooted to the end of the bed, dropping your arm because hell, you wanted her to see.

You watched her eyes for a falter, a hint, anything, but they maintained contact with yours. You didn’t make it easy for her though, wearing clothes that left little to the imagination but covered just enough to have her feening, imagination running wild at the idea of undeniable access.

Abby cleared her throat, and extended her arm, “Made you something.”

You take the glass from her hand, giving her a confused smirk, and take a sip.

She sat down beside you a safe distance, but close enough that you could smell the pine aroma of her body soap.

“Better?” She asked, keeping the conversation light, and steering away of anything that might drive you away.

But you weren’t dumb, you knew she was only here to “clear the air”, but a part of you still held onto the hope she changed her mind.

“Much better.”

You continued to sip to fill the empty spaces between each nervous glance and chuckle, letting the alcohol warm you from the inside out, and Abby did the same.

Abby’s thumb twirled around the rim of her glass, looking down at the rippling surface before looking back up, “I’m sorry about the other day.” She spoke softly, and genuinely, her bottom lip pouting more prominently than it usually did.

“It’s not like I haven’t thought about it, it’s just-“ She paused, looking forward, and exhaled a deep breath, “You’re young. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

This caught you off guard, but it made perfect sense. Abby has always been respectful and cautious about the topic, but you also felt relief that it wasn’t as one-sided as you originally thought.

You weren’t being delusional after all.

The confirmation of her attraction towards you gave you a new sense of confidence. “How do you know I’m not the one taking advantage of you?” You asked in a hushed voice, sweet, crystallized sugar on your tongue as you leaned in, and shit-

Abby liked to think she had more of a backbone- a moral compass to help resist her temptations, but that flew out the window as soon as you did this.

Abbys eyes darkened, flickering between your parted lips before meeting your gaze, perhaps to get the go ahead signal from you but your lips were already on hers, which was good enough for her.

You’re pushed back slightly and let Abby’s tongue take control, her hand on your thigh and thumb vanishing under the hem of your shorts, squeezing the fat dangerously close to your cunt.

Her hand moved to your face, cradling the space between your cheekbone and neck, pulling you into her before breaking away, “Let’s move this to my room, yeah?” She breathed, her voice excreting an excitement that she tried hard to withhold, but it still found a way to remain firm like it wasn’t a question at all.

And all you could do was nod, head already fuzzy, and a feeling of sticky discomfort between your thighs.

Abby led you to her room, her hand in yours and your smaller strides following closely behind her larger ones.

You’re sat on the edge of the bed, and she kneels before you, never breaking eye contact. And honestly, you couldn’t look away even if the embarrassment and nauseating flutter in your stomach wanted to, being so captivated and eager to comply to her every demand.

Her hand followed the curve of your calf down before coming back up, and she rubbed her palms over the soft plush of your thighs, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps.

Her lips grazed the inside of your knee, placing a gentle kiss, “Can I taste you?” She asked, so sweet that it could’ve been mistaken as asking to borrow a cup of sugar, but the reaction it had on your body (and your pussy) said otherwise.

An uncontrollable squeak emitted from your throat,

“Y-yes…”

Her hands squeezed the tops of your thighs, molding your flesh between calloused fingers before focusing on your waistband.

You lifted your ass as she tugged, pulling the pants down the length of your legs and past your ankles and dropping them to the floor.

“Oh my god-“ She groaned, marveling at the sight of your pretty pink panties, now made see-through with your own arousal, “All this from a few kisses? You’re dirtier than I thought.” She sneered, moving closer. And how hypocritical of her to say that when she’s not much better off at this point.

“Abby… please.” You whined, lifting your hips from the mattress in an attempt to find some relief.

Abby was also impatient, and as much as she wanted to take her time, treat you right, she also just simply wanted to please you.

She looped her finger behind the crotch of your panties and pulled it away from your cunt. You sucked in a sharp breath, sinking your weight back on your elbows, and squeezed the sheets between your fingers as she did this. The cold air hitting the new skin sends a chill across your limbs.

Something happened inside of Abby’s body. It’s one thing to see it, but to feel it?? Feeling the effect she had on your body- how wet you were, and how she could practically feel you try to suck her in even though she barely made it past the first knuckle… It was primal. A inextinguishable fire that kept burning brighter with each passing breath.

Your body is yanked down, ass pulled to the edge of the bed, and your thighs are thrown over her shoulders, her arms locking in around them.

You yelped at the sudden difference, looking down at her with a worried expression, but your head immediately falls back as her mouth encapsulates your clothed pussy.

You moaned, eyes disappearing into the back of your head.

She sucked, hallowing her cheeks around your bundle of nerves, and used her tongue to soak you through your panties with her spit.

Once again, she pulled the fabric down, tightening it flush with your cunt, and licked you through the ribbed cotton, letting your flavor seep into her mouth through the barrier.

But her patience was thinning. She needed to taste you properly, and she needed her hands free so she could hold your wriggling legs in place.

“I’m sorry” Was all she said, and you didn’t even have time to process it before you felt a harsh yank against your hips and the sound of fibers tearing apart.

-

Inhale, exhale.

Your wines hoarse, mouth dry. Crescent-shaped indents carved into Abby’s forearms and hands from your nails that were desperately grabbing at her- overstimulated and clit throbbing after the third orgasm of the night.

And she hasn’t even fingered you yet.

Her mouth detaches, and you sigh a breath of relief, but even with her absence, an uncomfortable buzzing still lingered.

She came up, placing both hands on the beside your face, and kissed you, slipping her tongue inside to give you a taste of yourself still on her tongue.

She started kissing you down your neck and chest, one of her hands sliding underneath your shirt, “Can you handle more?” She asked, lips grazing the surface of skin above your collarbone.

Inhale, exhale.

“Y-yes.” You nodded, tightening your legs around her hips, pulling her in because even though you were ran dry, you still craved the pressure of her inside.

She connected her lips with yours, and her hand placed itself around your jaw, cradling it. It was slow, patient, but also overpowering, made you feel even smaller somehow.

She pulled away, her lips still ghosting over yours, “Good girl.”

She gets up and turns away, disappearing behind the bathroom door, and leaves it open a few inches before re-entering a short time later, except nothing could have prepared you for this.

Inhale, exhale.

Shiny leather straps hugged her hips, dipping around the backside of the boxers and accentuating her ass, accompanied by the black silicone standing between her legs, big enough that it suited her size, almost seeming natural on her.

Your cunt clenches, and your thighs rub together as she approached.

Inhale, exhale.

She climbed on top, and your legs immediately open for her, welcoming her between them, and wrapping around her backside.

She was already inside, sinking herself in a couple of centimeters at a time and pausing in between to give you time to adjust to the girth.

Inhale, exhale.

You whined, nails etching across her back, and she was quick to soothe you with another kiss, “We shouldn’t do this.” She breathed between pecks but made zero attempts to stop it- in fact, she snapped her hips forward, filling you up with the last of her until the base was flush with your cunt.

-

Skin slapping against skin, beads of sweat tracing the edges of Abby’s forehead, and both of your legs hogtied together by her arm, holding them against her body, your feet dangling in the air.

Your ass wasn’t even on the bed at this point since she was quite literally holding you up, instead using her strength and size to her advantage to get the perfect angle inside of you, using you like you were her own little fuck doll.

It was rough, tender, but rough.

She’d check in on you, chanting little praises like how you were doing such a good job, but she’d also spew out a symphony of possessive remarks.

“Whose pussy does this belong to, hm?” And you’d muster the very little strength you had, mumbling exactly what she wanted to hear, your eyes rolling to the back of your fucking brain.

“That’s right… s’mine.” She’d grunt, picking up her pace, and slamming her hips into the back of your thighs, her strap bulging against the surface of your tummy.

“A-Abby…” You whimpered, but it hardly sounded like anything at all. You reached her hand that was squeezing you-holding you by the thigh, using it like a fucking handle to drill her cock into you.

“Abby..” you said again, trying to warn her of your impending orgasm, but she didn’t hear you, or she was just ignoring you because she doesn’t slow down, not even for a second.

Your eyes roll back before squeezing shut, limbs stiffening, “fuck, fuck, fu- ohmygod“ The plush of your bottom lip stung, edges of your teeth sinking into it before your jaw slacks. Your body trembles, hips bucking, but Abby still just holds you there and only pauses inside of you when your orgasm visualizes itself- a overflow of milky, viscous elixir seeping down the length of her strap.

She pulls out, dropping your legs to the mattress, and she’s panting heavily, the highs of her cheeks glistening against the warm glow of the lamp.

She’s hovering over you, kissing your cheek, and along your jaw.

She was being so, SO sweet, particularly because she felt bad for essentially bringing you to tears, but also because she was trying to make up for what she’s about to do next.

Her hands slip between the bed and your back, pulling you from it and lifting you up. Your legs are wrapped around her waist when your back hits a solid surface- the wall.

“Abby…” Abby you say, confused and still delirious, “what are you-?”

“Just one more… please. I know you can do it.” She was also delirious, words rushed and slightly slurred- trance-like, and dead set on being inside of you just to see how fucking dumb you get all over again.

It was like a drug to her, terrified of the consequences, the what-ifs, but once she tried it, she knew from then on she’d always crave more.

Now, she didn’t fucking care about the consequences.

This time, you initiated the kiss, and moan as her hands squeeze the fat of your ass, fingerprints breaking the blood vessels across your skin.

She pulls away, a loose strand of straight, golden hair blowing with her jagged breaths, “Tell me if it hurts, yeah?”

You nod, bitting down on your bottom lip as she lifted you higher, and angled herself below your cunt.

You cling to her neck as you’re lowered onto her cock, tears brewing at the corners of your eyes, and using her shoulder to mute yourself from crying out.

“Hey, hey… I got you“ She cooed, tilting her head so her lips were aligned with your ear, “You’re doing so good for me, baby. Just relax.”

Inhale, exhale.

Inhale, exhale.

She lowers you some more, hands gripping the underside of your thighs, and veins straining in her hands from the sheer amount of effort she was using to keep you steady.

You lock eyes with her, a pull between the center of your brows, and lips glossy with spit. You stretch around her, walls expanding to her size mixed with the new angle that proved to hit even deeper than before, which says a lot.

“That’s it… good girl.” The corner of her lips tug into an almost smirk, faint enough to miss it if you weren’t 5 inches from her face.

She started slow, scared to hurt you, and letting you grind your hips with her deep inside, but then she started to manually move you herself, lifting you and then guiding your hips as they came back down.

The pain was blinding, and casted white in the peripheral of your eyes. Your cheek slid across Abby’s shoulder, dampened by your tears, and that’s when she sped up.

You let out a cry, and your head goes back, slamming against the wall, but within seconds the pain lessens, instead being replaced by indescribable pleasure.

Abbys breathing heavily, her head resting in the crook of your neck, and yours hands interlocking behind her head.

It was so intimate, so vulnerable, and unlike anything either you have ever experienced in past relationships.

“Abby… I’m gonna- mmhm… gonna cum.” Your voice trembled, a rasp forming in your throat from the events that have transpired over the past three hours.

Sweat trickled between your tits, and strands of Abby’s hair stuck to her forehead in what seemed like a purposeful manner- swirled, and wave-like in design.

“I got you, I got you…” She said, her voice trailing off, becoming too focused on the stakes at hand.

See, Abby was scared of this night ending. Maybe it started as a forbidden crush in the beginning, but now?? With your eyes puffy, lashes wet and clumping together, and your pretty lips hugging her cock, she was no doubt in love.

You sing her name, pleading for her lips, and she immediately complied, kissing you as she both thrusted her hips into you, and moved your body up and down on her strap, surely bruising you for days to come.

As you come down from your orgasm, you loosen your grip on her, limbs feeling like jell-o, and she carefully lays you back down in the bed, leaving you for a moment to fetch a damp rag.

She’d be so gentle cleaning you up and leaving kisses across your chest and shoulders like her touch could reverse the deepening of the crimson splotches she left all over your body.

She’d also dress you, putting you in one of her t-shirts as soon as the opportunity comes because it’s something she has been thinking about for weeks at this point, not only the size difference between you two exciting her but also the fact that you’re wearing her clothes, which only makes her fantasy of you being her little wife feel that much more real.

When she’d determine you were sufficiently taken care of, she’d get in bed with you, pulling you into her arms with your back against your chest.

You hummed, a weak smile on your face and closed eyelids, falling into one of the best sleeps of your life.

Abby, however, didn’t.

Yes, she was exhausted, but all night as she held you, she couldn’t stop thinking about how the morning would materialize and how you’d react when she told you that she loved you.

𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ೃ⁀➷ @aouiaa @macaroni676 @sheluvslilith @sapphicsuperstar444 @lmaoo-spiderman @williamsangel @falloutboy-lover @atyourmerci @mskbitch @r3starttt

[ellieslittlewh0re]

tomorrow!!!

MILLION DOLLAR MAN PART 3 COMING SOON!!! (I promise)

here’s a little sneak peak :)

[ellieslittlewh0re]

MILLION DOLLAR MAN PART 3 COMING SOON!!! (I promise)

here’s a little sneak peak :)

[ellieslittlewh0re]

can we pls acknowledge my efforts 🥺

HELP PALESTINE • donation links. • educate yourself. • how to help. • why you should NOT buy/support tlou2 remaster.

౨ৎ 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈

𝑨.𝑨𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟣 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟤

⟢ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝖱𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖮𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖶𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝖠. 𝖠𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

⟢ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖠𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉 (𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝖽-𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝟥𝟢'𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝟣𝟫-𝟤𝟤 𝗂𝗌𝗁) 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍

𝐚/𝐧 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝟥 :)

It will be a month tomorrow since you started working for Ms. Anderson, and honestly, you got comfortable.

You easily fell into the routine of everything- making breakfast, getting her son ready for the day, and if you had to leave the house for something- whether it be grocery shopping, errands, or special requests made by Ms. Anderson herself, you'd drop him off at daycare.

Hell... you started to like it. I mean who wouldn't? Playing house in a mansion, never having to use your own money to buy anything, and of course, there's her.

Sure, she was gone for about 80% of the time, some nights you wouldn't see her at all, but when she did come home at a decent time, things were tense.

You tried engaging in conversations with her, asking her about her hobbies, her job, and just about anything to get to know her better, but she always found a way to cut it short.

And because of this, you thought you weren't reaching her expectations for how she wants things done, and you kinda woke up everyday expecting it to be your last day of employment, but that never came.

Abby, of course, wouldn't dream of firing you. You knew all the right things to say to her son when he was having a meltdown, and had a way about you that made her feel at peace even after a long day at the office.

Plus, you looked good around the house.

She liked seeing you play with her son on the floor, fully engaging yourself in his fantasy world, but she also loved seeing you reach for something on the top shelf in the kitchen, standing on your tippy toes, and your skirt riding up just enough to give her a taste, and she'd always use that image to occupy her mind later in bed- or even, at work.

As much as she liked you for the job, it also drove her fucking crazy that out of all people, it was you.

She felt like a loser for it, how you'd occupy her every thought, and how wrong she felt for it.

You worked for her, and you were young, barely old enough to even begin to figure out what you want out of life, and that can't be her.

Can it?

-

The house was quiet again, but not for its usual reasons. Carter's father had picked up this morning since the weekends were Dad's turn with him, and Ms. Anderson was in her gym.

You were in the kitchen, washing and cutting

a variety of fruits you had picked up the day prior at the farmers market.

The knife was heavy in your hand, slicing through the fibers like butter, and you couldn't help but peek your head towards the back door.

The double-wide French doors, on top of the generous amounts of windows, gave you the perfect view into the backyard, but more importantly, the perfect view of the guest house-sized detached gym.

And it was almost like Abby knew you were thinking about her because she walked out, rag hanging over her shoulder, and a cut-sleeve muscle tank showcasing the efforts of her strenuous workout. You sliced, being too trusting with your hands since your eyes were definitely not paying attention to the blade.

The knife came down hard on the cutting board, slicing through the tip of your finger.

Shit.

You ran to the sink and turned it on, holding your finger underneath the stream.

The droplets of blood contrasted against the stark granite, and you started to panic.

What a mess, you thought.

Abby opened the back door, wiping away the sweat on her upper lip with the rag, but she must've noticed your panic because she's furrowing her brows at you, "What's wrong?" She asked sternly, but with so much concern, already walking over to you.

"Oh, it's nothing." You shrugged it off, and even laughed a little, motioning your non injured hand at the bowl of fruit, trying to distract her from the mess in the sink, but she didn't care about the fucking fruit when she saw how much blood you were losing.

She immediately switched into parent mode, and held your wrist up, wrapping the lengths of her fingers entirely around it.

"Here, hold this, and squeeze." She placed crumbled up paper towels around your hand, and finger. Honestly, the amount of them seemed excessive, but Abby could never be too careful with you.

She guided you down the hall, past the office and your room, and all the way down to the other end of the house, which is where the primary bedroom was. At least, you thought that's where it was. It was the only room you weren't allowed in.

Confirmed- It was her bedroom.

It was spacious- carved, detailed wooden furniture, and floor-to-ceiling windows that would beautifully light up the space, but were instead hidden behind fully closed curtains. And not to mention the built-in bookshelves on opposing walls, stacked with both new and old literature.

"Sit." She placed her hand on the top of your shoulder, and you obey her, too busy soaking in the new atmosphere, and gawking at the disgustingly large and comfortable bed you were sitting on.

Sure, the rest of the house is just as nice, but this was her room.

Abby retreated into what you could assume was the master bath, rummaging around in the cupboard before returning and kneeling at your feet that dangled over the edge.

"This is going to sting."

She damped a cotton ball with the clear liquid, unfolding the paper towels from the wound, and started to dab at the skin, seemingly taking her time based on her feathery light touches.

You winced at first, but slowly let yourself lean into her care.

It felt like progress to you, and Abby felt like shit. You got hurt under her roof, under her care.

That's the last thing she wanted.

Underneath all the blood, it was actually a very minor cut, just some cream and a bandage would suffice, which was a relief because Abby was already planning a trip to the ER in her head.

You held the bandaged finger, and looked up as she stood, "Thank you. I'm sorry for making a mess-"

"Don't apologize." She paused you mid- sentence. She didn't care about the mess, and it honestly upset her that you'd even apologize in the first place.

Can't you see how much she cares about you?

She sat down beside you, letting out a deep breath that she had been holding while fixing your cut.

Being that close... your knees, and the tops of your thighs... all so accessible under the flap of your skirt.

She felt like she could pass out honestly.

You felt awkward, and so did Abby, both for similar reasons.

You, on one hand, felt like being in her bedroom was forbidden. You slept so many nights picturing what it would be like. You wondered if it was messy because she never let you clean it, and what color her sheets were, what kind of things were on her nightstand, speaking of-

You looked over to the small bedside table, a lamp (not as important), an opened book facing down seemingly to mark where she left off, and a pair of simple, black framed glasses.

What you do know- 1. She likes to read, 2. She wears glasses while reading, and 3. You really want to kiss her.

And the reason for Abby's unease was because you were in her room, sitting on her bed. The same bed that she'd touch herself on while thinking about you.

And even though she was disgusted by herself for it, it oddly turned her on more.

Maybe it was just a buildup of stress and the fact she hadn't slept with anyone since the divorce. Not because she didn't want to, she just didn't have the time to go out and meet anyone new.

She's kinda old-fashioned that way. She didn't want a one-night stand with just anyone, but if it meant she could taste you just once, she'd change her ways.

The tension was obvious at this point- so obvious that neither of you could ignore it anymore.

But still, Abby tried. She refused to make the first move out of respect, and you figured as much since you were way younger than her, but who gives a fuck about respect when she's looking at you like this?

Pupils blown wide, half-hooded behind sultry eyelids, and clearly, even though she was looking at you, her head was somewhere else.

She was thinking about how your lips would feel on hers, how soft your skin was in the places she hadn't seen yet, and what little noises you'd make when her tongue was between your thighs.

She was fucked.

You leaned in, not intentionally, but your body was going on an instinct- an instinct to be touched, to be held, and you wanted her to be the one to do it.

"Abby..." You breathed, and you felt a warmth pool into your lower stomach. Just saying her name versus the usual "ma'am" or "Ms. Anderson" had you lose all sense of what this really was- a job.

Your lips were hovering over hers at this point, and you leaned in more to compensate for the fact Abby was leaning away, fighting with herself against what she knows is the right thing to do, and what she really wants to do.

"We can't do this", Abby stuttered, but still made no effort to create a distance, if anything, she was loosing the moral battle with herself.

You moved your hand from her knee and up her thigh, sliding your fingers inward, "Why not?" It wasn't a genuine question. You didn't care for a list of reasons why this shouldn't- or couldn't happen, and your sticky, sweet voice made that clear to her.

You nudged your lips against hers, tempting her, but not fully giving in like how she was hoping.

Abby's fists tightened by her sides, and your hand placement radiated a pulse between her legs.

Your back arched as you half-lifted yourself off the bed, leaning in the rest of the way to close the space, and kissed her.

It was a simple peck, the kind you pull away from to see how the other person would react, but as you're pulling away, her lips were back on yours.

It was deeper this time, more than a peck but still felt conservative. But when Abby's hands come up to your face, holding the sides before slipping her tongue inside, something switched.

She stood, still kissing you as she climbed on top, pushing you back on the bed, and now fully on top of you.

Her chest bumped against yours, and both of you exchanged muffled moans between kisses before she pulled away altogether and got off the bed.

And, of course, Abby felt bad about this. She didn't want you to take it the wrong way, but if she kept going, she felt like the god she claimed she didn't believe in would smite her with a bolt through her fucking ceiling.

You were confused to say the least, still lying on the bed, and propped up on your elbows looking at her, awaiting an explanation.

Her foot tapped on the floor, her hands on her hips, and looking down, "I- um-" She cleaned her throat, her face hot from embarrassment, and other reasons.

She didn't know what to say, I mean, what could she say other than the fact that she really, really wants to, but can't?

She finally looks up, and seeing you there, all laid out, your skirt ruffled high on your thighs, she wishes she never stopped in the first place.

She fought with herself, drowning out all the thoughts of what could have been, and smiled, "Thanks for the fruit."

⟢ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @aouiaa @macaroni676 @sheluvslilith @sapphicsuperstar444 @lmaoo-spiderman @williamsangel

reminder!! I don’t tag ageless bogs

[ellieslittlewh0re]

HELP PALESTINE • donation links. • educate yourself. • how to help. •

౨ৎ 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈

𝑨.𝑨𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟣 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟤 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟥

⟢ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝖱𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖮𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖶𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝖠. 𝖠𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

⟢ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖠𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉 (𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝖽-𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝟥𝟢'𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝟣𝟫-𝟤𝟤 𝗂𝗌𝗁) 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍

𝐚/𝐧 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝟥 :)

It will be a month tomorrow since you started working for Ms. Anderson, and honestly, you got comfortable.

You easily fell into the routine of everything- making breakfast, getting her son ready for the day, and if you had to leave the house for something- whether it be grocery shopping, errands, or special requests made by Ms. Anderson herself, you'd drop him off at daycare.

Hell... you started to like it. I mean who wouldn't? Playing house in a mansion, never having to use your own money to buy anything, and of course, there's her.

Sure, she was gone for about 80% of the time, some nights you wouldn't see her at all, but when she did come home at a decent time, things were tense.

You tried engaging in conversations with her, asking her about her hobbies, her job, and just about anything to get to know her better, but she always found a way to cut it short.

And because of this, you thought you weren't reaching her expectations for how she wants things done, and you kinda woke up everyday expecting it to be your last day of employment, but that never came.

Abby, of course, wouldn't dream of firing you. You knew all the right things to say to her son when he was having a meltdown, and had a way about you that made her feel at peace even after a long day at the office.

Plus, you looked good around the house.

She liked seeing you play with her son on the floor, fully engaging yourself in his fantasy world, but she also loved seeing you reach for something on the top shelf in the kitchen, standing on your tippy toes, and your skirt riding up just enough to give her a taste, and she'd always use that image to occupy her mind later in bed- or even, at work.

As much as she liked you for the job, it also drove her fucking crazy that out of all people, it was you.

She felt like a loser for it, how you'd occupy her every thought, and how wrong she felt for it.

You worked for her, and you were young, barely old enough to even begin to figure out what you want out of life, and that can't be her.

Can it?

-

The house was quiet again, but not for its usual reasons. Carter's father had picked up this morning since the weekends were Dad's turn with him, and Ms. Anderson was in her gym.

You were in the kitchen, washing and cutting

a variety of fruits you had picked up the day prior at the farmers market.

The knife was heavy in your hand, slicing through the fibers like butter, and you couldn't help but peek your head towards the back door.

The double-wide French doors, on top of the generous amounts of windows, gave you the perfect view into the backyard, but more importantly, the perfect view of the guest house-sized detached gym.

And it was almost like Abby knew you were thinking about her because she walked out, rag hanging over her shoulder, and a cut-sleeve muscle tank showcasing the efforts of her strenuous workout. You sliced, being too trusting with your hands since your eyes were definitely not paying attention to the blade.

The knife came down hard on the cutting board, slicing through the tip of your finger.

Shit.

You ran to the sink and turned it on, holding your finger underneath the stream.

The droplets of blood contrasted against the stark granite, and you started to panic.

What a mess, you thought.

Abby opened the back door, wiping away the sweat on her upper lip with the rag, but she must've noticed your panic because she's furrowing her brows at you, "What's wrong?" She asked sternly, but with so much concern, already walking over to you.

"Oh, it's nothing." You shrugged it off, and even laughed a little, motioning your non injured hand at the bowl of fruit, trying to distract her from the mess in the sink, but she didn't care about the fucking fruit when she saw how much blood you were losing.

She immediately switched into parent mode, and held your wrist up, wrapping the lengths of her fingers entirely around it.

"Here, hold this, and squeeze." She placed crumbled up paper towels around your hand, and finger. Honestly, the amount of them seemed excessive, but Abby could never be too careful with you.

She guided you down the hall, past the office and your room, and all the way down to the other end of the house, which is where the primary bedroom was. At least, you thought that's where it was. It was the only room you weren't allowed in.

Confirmed- It was her bedroom.

It was spacious- carved, detailed wooden furniture, and floor-to-ceiling windows that would beautifully light up the space, but were instead hidden behind fully closed curtains. And not to mention the built-in bookshelves on opposing walls, stacked with both new and old literature.

"Sit." She placed her hand on the top of your shoulder, and you obey her, too busy soaking in the new atmosphere, and gawking at the disgustingly large and comfortable bed you were sitting on.

Sure, the rest of the house is just as nice, but this was her room.

Abby retreated into what you could assume was the master bath, rummaging around in the cupboard before returning and kneeling at your feet that dangled over the edge.

"This is going to sting."

She damped a cotton ball with the clear liquid, unfolding the paper towels from the wound, and started to dab at the skin, seemingly taking her time based on her feathery light touches.

You winced at first, but slowly let yourself lean into her care.

It felt like progress to you, and Abby felt like shit. You got hurt under her roof, under her care.

That's the last thing she wanted.

Underneath all the blood, it was actually a very minor cut, just some cream and a bandage would suffice, which was a relief because Abby was already planning a trip to the ER in her head.

You held the bandaged finger, and looked up as she stood, "Thank you. I'm sorry for making a mess-"

"Don't apologize." She paused you mid- sentence. She didn't care about the mess, and it honestly upset her that you'd even apologize in the first place.

Can't you see how much she cares about you?

She sat down beside you, letting out a deep breath that she had been holding while fixing your cut.

Being that close... your knees, and the tops of your thighs... all so accessible under the flap of your skirt.

She felt like she could pass out honestly.

You felt awkward, and so did Abby, both for similar reasons.

You, on one hand, felt like being in her bedroom was forbidden. You slept so many nights picturing what it would be like. You wondered if it was messy because she never let you clean it, and what color her sheets were, what kind of things were on her nightstand, speaking of-

You looked over to the small bedside table, a lamp (not as important), an opened book facing down seemingly to mark where she left off, and a pair of simple, black framed glasses.

What you do know- 1. She likes to read, 2. She wears glasses while reading, and 3. You really want to kiss her.

And the reason for Abby's unease was because you were in her room, sitting on her bed. The same bed that she'd touch herself on while thinking about you.

And even though she was disgusted by herself for it, it oddly turned her on more.

Maybe it was just a buildup of stress and the fact she hadn't slept with anyone since the divorce. Not because she didn't want to, she just didn't have the time to go out and meet anyone new.

She's kinda old-fashioned that way. She didn't want a one-night stand with just anyone, but if it meant she could taste you just once, she'd change her ways.

The tension was obvious at this point- so obvious that neither of you could ignore it anymore.

But still, Abby tried. She refused to make the first move out of respect, and you figured as much since you were way younger than her, but who gives a fuck about respect when she's looking at you like this?

Pupils blown wide, half-hooded behind sultry eyelids, and clearly, even though she was looking at you, her head was somewhere else.

She was thinking about how your lips would feel on hers, how soft your skin was in the places she hadn't seen yet, and what little noises you'd make when her tongue was between your thighs.

She was fucked.

You leaned in, not intentionally, but your body was going on an instinct- an instinct to be touched, to be held, and you wanted her to be the one to do it.

"Abby..." You breathed, and you felt a warmth pool into your lower stomach. Just saying her name versus the usual "ma'am" or "Ms. Anderson" had you lose all sense of what this really was- a job.

Your lips were hovering over hers at this point, and you leaned in more to compensate for the fact Abby was leaning away, fighting with herself against what she knows is the right thing to do, and what she really wants to do.

"We can't do this", Abby stuttered, but still made no effort to create a distance, if anything, she was loosing the moral battle with herself.

You moved your hand from her knee and up her thigh, sliding your fingers inward, "Why not?" It wasn't a genuine question. You didn't care for a list of reasons why this shouldn't- or couldn't happen, and your sticky, sweet voice made that clear to her.

You nudged your lips against hers, tempting her, but not fully giving in like how she was hoping.

Abby's fists tightened by her sides, and your hand placement radiated a pulse between her legs.

Your back arched as you half-lifted yourself off the bed, leaning in the rest of the way to close the space, and kissed her.

It was a simple peck, the kind you pull away from to see how the other person would react, but as you're pulling away, her lips were back on yours.

It was deeper this time, more than a peck but still felt conservative. But when Abby's hands come up to your face, holding the sides before slipping her tongue inside, something switched.

She stood, still kissing you as she climbed on top, pushing you back on the bed, and now fully on top of you.

Her chest bumped against yours, and both of you exchanged muffled moans between kisses before she pulled away altogether and got off the bed.

And, of course, Abby felt bad about this. She didn't want you to take it the wrong way, but if she kept going, she felt like the god she claimed she didn't believe in would smite her with a bolt through her fucking ceiling.

You were confused to say the least, still lying on the bed, and propped up on your elbows looking at her, awaiting an explanation.

Her foot tapped on the floor, her hands on her hips, and looking down, "I- um-" She cleaned her throat, her face hot from embarrassment, and other reasons.

She didn't know what to say, I mean, what could she say other than the fact that she really, really wants to, but can't?

She finally looks up, and seeing you there, all laid out, your skirt ruffled high on your thighs, she wishes she never stopped in the first place.

She fought with herself, drowning out all the thoughts of what could have been, and smiled, "Thanks for the fruit."

⟢ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @aouiaa @macaroni676 @sheluvslilith @sapphicsuperstar444 @lmaoo-spiderman @williamsangel

reminder!! I don’t tag ageless bogs

[ellieslittlewh0re]

♡ posting part 2 tomorrow

━ 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 ୨⎯ 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧! 𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⎯୧

𖧷

⟢ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗎𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈, 𝗅𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗒/𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗓𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝗇.

⟢ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉! (𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 mid-𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝟥𝟢𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝟣𝟫-𝟤𝟤 𝗂𝗌𝗁) 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝗏𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾𝖽 & 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝖽, 𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 (𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒) 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍

𝙖/𝙣 - 𝗂 𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝟤-𝟥 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄

It was a slim chance, almost next to none that you out of all people would get the job. It's not like you have any experience with taking care of kids, maintaining a house, and especially of this scale. But here you were, standing in front of your new home, at least for next however long you can keep your new boss satisfied.

The driveway itself felt like it was straight out of a movie- luxury cars, perfectly polished laid stone, lined with landscaping around the edges that looked almost fake from a distance, not a singular blade of grass being out of line.

As you take in the surroundings, slowly making your way up the (what feels like) mile long driveway, a man is closing the front door behind him.

"Hello!" He calls out, waving his hand in your direction to come over.

He extends his arm as you approach him, offering a gentle handshake, and introduces himself as Owen.

He looked slightly out of place, not as much as you did, but still noticeable.

You laughed nervously, still unsure who "Owen" is supposed to be.

"Are you the one who I emailed about the job?" You asked, clenching your fingers nervously around the handle of your suitcase.

He placed his hands on his hips, looking a little off-guard before seemingly understanding,

"No, no, sorry, that would be my wife- ex wife." He corrected himself, giving you a tight lipped smile that felt more like a soothing self-pity tick.

You nodded, and looked around, unsure of what to say next.

"Sorry-" He laughed again, "I'm just stopping by to drop our son off. She's inside."

"Ah" You mouthed, and thanked the man. He walked past you, past the Bentley, and approached the driver side of the less expressive looking car in the driveway before turning around and shouting a "good luck".

What you do know- 1. Your boss is a woman, 2. She's divorced (seemingly), and 3. She's seriously fucking loaded.

What the man meant by "good luck" you can only assume. Maybe she's a bitch, or maybe, he's just bitter about whatever their history is, but you don't even have time to think of the possibilities because the front door is opening once again.

"You're late."

She stood in front of the wooden, 8, maybe 9 foot tall door, not even bothering to look at you as she fiddled with the cufflinks on her perfectly tailored, white button down.

"I'm so sorry, I had a uber cancel-"

She sighed, very clearly unimpressed by your excuse.

"Bedtime is at 7, and there's food in the fridge-"

She turned, walking inside, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with her longer strides as she briefly escorted you through the foyer, and into the kitchen, "There's emergency contacts here in case of an emergency." She sighed deeply, from annoyance or exhaustion you couldn't tell, pointing to a small notebook island.

You rocked on your heels, nodding at her every word because, honestly, you were scared and weren't sure if you could trust your voice at this point.

"Alright." She exhaled, not really directed at you, and picked up a coat that was hanging on the back of a bar stool, draping it over her arm, "Oh, one more thing-" She leaned forward, and placed a hand on your shoulder, violating your senses with her cologne, "-don't give him any sugar after 4, he'll keep you up all night."

You looked up, and finally, she sees you, her blue eyes etching themselves into yours.

"Yes, ma'am."

And Abby wasn't sure if it made her feel better or worse when she did this. Sure, you seemed responsible enough- shy and respectful, but shit, you were pretty.

She backed away and cleared her throat, turning her back towards you as she made her way towards the direction of the front door, the heels of her chairman shoes echoing against the hardwood floors.

-

The house was eerily quiet when there wasn't a 4-year-old running around and filling its vastness with his laughs and clanking of toys, not that you minded though, you were exhausted.

You sat in what looked to be the "family room", given the chest of toys, and large mounted t.v. with leather couches that felt too firm, almost like they had never been sat in by someone who weighed over 40 pounds, still, it served it purpose in giving you the place to readjust.

What you do know- 1. She works late, 2. Her son's name is Carter, and 3. She's scarily attractive.

Wait-

She's attractive? No- you can't think that. She's your BOSS, and she has a ex-husband, so, she's most likely straight, right?

You got up, pacing around the house, and looked around to make sure everything was where it should be in hopes it kept your head occupied.

You re- read through the notes she had left behind in the note pad, what the security code was, where your room was etc... but, even then, you still found yourself examining her handwriting, which also found a way to look expressive.

And then you thought about how she dressed- clean and sharp, the muscles in her back flexing as she walked away, and how tightly her shirt hugged her arms-

Your head darts towards the archway that just barely kept the front door out of sight, the faint beeping of the security code being dialed in freezing you.

The door opened and closed, the wall still shielding the company, and you anxiously fixed yourself- pushing strands of hair behind your ears and smoothing out the wrinkles on your pleated skirt.

Abby rounded the corner, looking down while unbuttoning the first three buttons of her shirt before looking up.

She looked shocked to see you standing there, and evidently waiting for her to get home.

She remembered telling which room was yours in the notes, right?

"Jesus it's-" She looked down at the watch on her wrist, "- It's almost 11. What are you still doing awake?" She sounded almost annoyed like she was looking forward to the peace and quiet that you now ruined, but she wasn't annoyed per se.

See, it's been a while since she has been this attracted to someone, and after being married for 12 years and losing all the skills that comes with flirting, she wasn't sure how to handle it.

"Couldn't sleep." You lied, knowing you didn't even try to go to bed, but she doesn't need to stress herself out with you when she has her own stuff to deal with.

Abby sat at the kitchen island, pushing her sleeves up to her elbows, and you can't help but notice the new skin- the thickness of her forearms and how the muscles curved along the side.

She looked exhausted- still polished, but the front stands of her hair were now loose from her slicked-back hairstyle, gently dancing over her cheeks when she moved her head.

Suddenly, you felt like a burden and didn't want to piss her off more than you thought you already had. So, you excused yourself and started to walk past her towards the hall, but she stuttered something, something that you didn't quite catch.

"Hm?" You turned around, eyes wide and eager to hear what she had to say.

It's been awhile since anyone cared that much to listen to her, she thought.

"Care for a drink?" As soon as the question left Abby's lips, she felt a little embarrassed- hell, she wasn't even sure if you were old enough to drink, not that she cares if a person under the age of 21 drinks alcohol, but she does care if the question came off... weird.

Maybe it was weird.

By the look on Abby's face, it's like you had already declined her offer- defeated and a little bit of a bruised ego, ready to remove herself from the conversation all together, and never speak of it again.

"Sure." You agreed, smiling at her, and she returned the smile, her face lighting up like she hadn't sat down with someone for a drink in a long time, which is no surprise to anyone when you're a mom and have a long, demanding work schedule.

She got up, walking across the kitchen to an intricately detailed wooden cabinet, "What do you want?"

She started to list all the different names of liquor, some sounding foreign to you as you sat down in the barstool that was next the one she was occupying previously, swiveling it back and forth with your feet, "I'll have what you're having." You say sweetly, not wanting her to go through the extra effort of pouring something different.

She chuckled, looking at you over her shoulder before dropping her head, shaking it back and forth.

She pulled a bottle from the middle shelf, setting it on the counter along with two short glasses.

She poured the dark caramel liquid, filling the glass by only an inch or two, and slid it across the island, "Ladies first." She motioned her hand, waiting for you to taste it.

You brought the crystal to your lips, your cheeks hot from the undivided attention she was giving you, but you brushed it off and tilted the glass back.

The liquor burned your throat, every part of you wanting to spit it out, but you swallow anyway.

"It's good." You lied, and not very convincingly, which humored Abby, chuckling at your reaction before pouring her own drink, filling it more than what she had done for yours.

She cornered the counter, joining you in the bar seats, "You get used to it."

You were too shy to look at her face in case her eyes met yours, but you had no issue with looking at her hands- how big they were, almost making the glass disappear in her grip, the veins running across the top of them that trailed your eyes to her fingers- also strong and thick to match the rest of her.

You caught yourself staring too hard- pulling your eyes away and grabbing your glass, taking another painful sip.

Abby was, of course, oblivious to this, thinking you were just trying to appease her.

-

The drinks got forgotten in the conversations you two shared, and now, sitting with her on the couch, talking like you had known her longer than just a day, but you could thank the alcohol for that one.

You weren't necessarily wasted, but it was the kind of drunk where you weren't really paying attention to what Abby was saying or why she was even laughing for that matter... something about her son? Whatever.

You were, however, paying attention to her face, how beautiful she was, and how her hand so effortlessly settled on your bare thigh, and a warmth that pooled into the pit of your stomach following.

When Abby realized she was touching you, she jerked away and cleared her throat, "It's late-" She stood up, half facing away from you so you wouldn't notice that she- a full-grown, mature woman was blushing, and not only that, but she was blushing over her brand-spanking-new employee.

A small disappointed "oh" brushed past your lips before you ultimately agreed.

It's probably for the best to keep this relationship professional, Abby knew this, but fuck, she'd be lying if she denied the fact she thought about you the moments leading up to her falling asleep that night.

⟢ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @aouiaa @macaroni676 @sheluvslilith