ftmstonergirly
326 posts
◇ •°genderqueer stoner slut°• ◇ //21//she/her//
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i am not in the mood nor do i have the energy to put a disclaimer on every kink post and i dont wanna explain every time i fantasize abt smth that this is fucking obviously about consenting adults playing pretend. call me what u want idfc i am not holding your hand to guide u through my playground u can look and play or you can leave.
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force me to cockwarm a too-long dildo, trap it inside me with some too-tight panties and "cover" up the bulge with a too-short skirt. watch me struggle to get around as i try to resist the pressure on my bladder, watch me rock back and forth any time i sit down to try and distract myself. tease me when my cunt leaks down my thighs, making me pull down my panties to show you. smack my pussy when the slicked up dildo inevitably slides out of my overworked cunt <3
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Consider a trans guy really into mythology one day gets the attention of a god, and this god turns the mortal boy into the new fertility goddess. His body is now transformed to be impossibly curvy, heavy breasts dripping with milk, always ovulating. Draped in beautiful transparent fabrics. When people pray to him as a fertility goddess, he gets a little orgasm each time.
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hggg I really need a hung tgirl to rape me so hard she’s bruising my cervix with every thrust & making me scream and cry… I want her to abuse my cervix not just bc it feels good for her, but bc she’s trying to hurt me. 😵💫😮💨
A cutie with a tight cunt and an abuse kink. Don't you worry. I love abusing your tight cunts. I wany you crying and bruised. The more you're in pain, the harder I'll cum.
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cunt slaps are actually pretty loud like if you’re doing them right they’re pretty loud and the sound is magical. and if you’re doing them REALLY right you’ll let your middle and ring fingers barely dip inside their entrance each time. wet pussy being slapped over and over again paired to those whiny little hitches of breath between moans cause they expect you to push deep in that sweet cunt at some point but you just keep slapping it instead
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Roughly fucking your throat and then pulling out and petting your hair and cooing at you as you cough and try to catch your breath and shoving it back in before you get the chance. You start slapping my thighs and trying to push me off, desperate for air, but I just keep talking about how close I am and rutting against your face
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sometimes fakeboys need soft, gentle pussy eating and massage to remind us that we’re women.
“yessss honey. feel that tongue on your clit and holes? that’s because you have a sweet pink pussy. you’re a girl! I can’t suck you off like a man, but that’s okay. you have a perfect, pretty pussy like a perfect, pretty girl should!”
all the while kissing our clits and slowly sticking their fingers inside our pussies.
“thaaaaaat’s it, pretty girl. cum on daddy’s fingers. nice and gentle, niiiiiiice and gentle. awwww, thatta girl. fuck it all out. fuck it all out on daddy’s hand. I’ll kiss your pussy better. you’ll remember you’re a pretty girl soon enough..”
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At a certain point, you just have to accept that you're nothing but a dumb ditzy milk cow. A walking pair of udders, made to be teased and tugged and played with.
It feels so good to think about, doesn't it? There's no worry as a cow, no pressure, except for the pressure building up inside your udders, waiting for the overwhelming pleasure of being milked.
It's so satisfying to put those teats of yours on display. Low-cut tops, no bra, even just walking, and eventually crawling, around the house completely topless. It's just so much better for everyone to see your greatest assets.
Dumber and happier every time they're ogled, squeezed, massaged and groped. That rush of pleasure just washing over your brain so easily, irresistibly, and leaving you giggly and floaty as your udders only feel more and more arousal.
I wonder how long you'll try and resist? Will you fight these urges, struggle against the natural compulsion to keep your udders exposed and ready?
Or are you already clumsily tugging at your teats, pulling your shirt off to show off like a good cow?
Awww, silly heifer. Can't help but shake and bounce those udders, and can't resist giving me a nice, long...
...moooooooo~
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shh, shhh, honey, please, I know it hurts feeling me grind into you so deep, rutting against your cervix like this, but we need you to learn how this feels so you’ll feel the difference when i start to pump you full. you can cry if you need to but im not letting you go until I know your body remembers
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Awards Show
This isn’t a prompt or request (they’re still closed for now). This is just a self indulgent little scene that turned into a 3k fic. Bit more intimacy/sensual themes than my usual, but still has all my fav tropes :) Hope people enjoy this one x
I couldn’t resist the opportunity to show you off to my friends and colleagues at the company awards dinner. This may have been the biggest you’d ever gotten during any of your pregnancies; your tight firm belly was a beach ball beneath your maroon silk dress, hanging low and heavy on your hips. My hand wrapped around your waist and squeezed your hip affectionately as we mingled through the crowd. With a champagne glass in hand you smiled and laughed at the joke my boss made.
“You look ready to pop my dear. You better not steal the show tonight by going into labour” The CEO had said with a grin, looking in awe at your incredible size.
We both laughed, my hand moving up and down your lower back. If only he knew.
Your contractions had started this afternoon, the slow gentle tightening of your womb signalling our baby’s readiness to come into the world. But even with your contractions, we still put our black tie outfits on and went out this evening to the company awards show. You knew it was important to me and my career. Plus, neither of us could deny the thrill of having to ride out your contractions in such a public setting.
“How are you doing darling?” I whispered in your ear after my boss and CEO walked away.
“Mmmm… okay…. They’re getting a little stronger now though.” You said with a breathy moan, your hand naturally moving across the underside of your belly, rubbing the taut skin through the silk fabric of your dress.
“Let’s quickly pop into the bathroom before we take our seats. I can check to see how you’re progressing.”
With my hand around your waist I felt how much more you were waddling, a sign of how low the baby was sitting in the bowl of your pelvis. I squeezed your hip and took a long breath to try and control myself.
In the single occupancy bathroom I quickly locked the door behind us. You found your way to the sink and braced against the bathroom counter, swaying your hips through another contraction. I growled at the sight, seeing you so gravid and fertile, your body doing something so powerful and natural.
“You look incredible, my love.” I stood behind you, pressing my body against your backside and wrapping my arms around you to feel the firm and hard skin of your belly as it contracted. A low moan came from your lips as the wave reached its peak and I bent forward, my chest to your back, whispering in your ear to breathe.
When the contraction had passed, I pulled up the fabric of your maroon silk dress, slowly up your thighs until I reached my destination. You moaned as I slipped my fingers inside, deep but gentle, knowing how sensitive you were during labour.
“Wow darling…. You’re already at 7cm.” My words were thick with desire in your ear. “Do you think you can hold on for the rest of the evening?”
You smiled at me through the reflection of the mirror, grinning with excitement.
We made our way out the bathroom and found our seats for the dinner and awards ceremony. I could feel your breathing was heavier, your movements were slower, and I beamed with pride at how well you were doing. Everyone was in awe of your attendance this evening, being so advanced in your pregnancy, and yet nobody knew just how close you were to not being pregnant anymore.
Our seats were in the middle of the hall, on a large round table with nearly a dozen other people. Some colleagues I knew, others I didn’t, all with their partners or spouses. Music was playing, waiters were bringing food to tables, drinks were flowing, the room was soon filled with conversation and laughter as people got progressively more drunk. All the while you sat beautifully beside me, joining in discussions and smiling brightly. My gorgeous wife, heavily pregnant, and secretly in active labour.
Two courses into our meal you started to hum quietly beside me, shifting in your seat. My hand found your thigh, my thumb rubbing soothing motions across your leg over the thin fabric of your dress. “You’re doing great darling, just breathe through them. Not long now.” I purred in your ear, knowing that wasn’t true. The awards had just commenced, my boss and CEO taking the stage to begin proceedings, and like all previous company dinners I knew it would be a long evening.
Contraction after contraction wracked your body, but you showed no obvious signs of discomfort. You’d gone a little quieter perhaps but your smile remained bright to everyone around us. Every now and then throughout the evening the room would erupt in obligatory applause as someone was granted an award or achievement from the company. During one of these moments my ears pricked, attuned to your sounds, and I heard a low moan slip from your parted lips.
My arm wrapped around your shoulders, leaning in close, my breath caressing your neck. “Darling…. You okay?” I asked, concerned but unbelievably aroused.
“Nngh… baby feels so low…” you whispered, spreading your legs a little under the table.
I shivered, stuttering slightly with a husky voice “D-Do you need to push?”
“N-no…. I’m okay just…. A lot of pressure—oooof”
I kissed the side of your cheek affectionately, my hand still wrapped around your shoulders while the other squeezed your thigh. “You’re doing brilliantly, my love. Just keep breathing through them.” I shifted in my seat to hide my obvious arousal. The idea that you might start pushing right here in this venue was almost too much to bear. I took a long sip of my drink and focused back on the stage to distract myself.
Half way through the awards, after all the food had been consumed leaving dessert plates and empty wine bottles littering the table, you suddenly reached out and gripped my thigh squeezing tight. I looked over to you with a mix of concern and excitement. You had slumped slightly in your seat, spreading your legs wider under the table and tilting your hips up, your breasts and belly rising and falling with your rapid breathing.
“Breathe…. Breathe through it darling, we’re almost there.” I encouraged softly, my hand moving to rest upon your heavy belly sitting between your spread thighs, feeling the rock hard muscles beneath my fingers. You grunted a little, a sound I recognised, and my eyes nearly came out their sockets.
“Don’t push darling… you need to hold it a little longer okay.” I tried to soothe you, but my heart was thumping in my chest and my insides were coiling with unbridled excitement.
“M-my— waters—” you croaked, relaxing after the intense contraction.
I looked down; from above your dress looked completely dry but when I felt underneath the top layer I felt the liquid that was now dripping down your inner thighs and onto the floor. Quickly grabbing my fabric napkin and yours, I dropped them under the table, putting one between your legs and the other on the floor to soak up the worst of it.
“Shhhh… you’re okay my love. Looks like it’s nearly time, baby wants to meet us.” My hand moved possessively over your belly, my smile wide and beaming with pride. You smiled, your cheeks flushed a little, leaning closer to kiss me softly.
“Can we go now?” You asked quietly, and I noticed the light sheen of sweat on your forehead.
“Yes darling, you’ve done wonderfully. Let’s go and meet our new baby—”
Then my name very loudly echoed across the hall and all eyes were focused in our direction. The award. Shit. My boss was standing on stage, crystal award in hand, and everyone began to clap.
“Damn— I erm— do I go—” my words fumbled from my mouth as I looked between you and the stage. You were absolutely full to the brim with our baby, so close to delivering…. But staying would mean you would have to hold on a little bit longer, and that thought sent a shiver up my spine.
“Go sweetheart, go get your award.” You said affectionately, putting a hand on my cheek.
“Are you sure? You’re incredible.” I kissed your lips, both of us basqued under a spotlight from the venue, and then I walked quickly up to the stage to receive my award.
Looking out across the crowd my eyes were focused only on you. Sitting proudly at our table, your eyes beamed with joy as you clapped along with the rest of the room. Clearing my throat, trying to regain professional composure, I began my speech. Your eyes glistened with affection and pride, hanging onto my every word even though you had heard me practice this over and over again.
Then I noticed a change in you, barely perceptible to anyone else but I knew your body better than my own. You tensed, your smiling expression now forced, and you had one hand gripping the edge of the table while the other moved to the underside of your belly. Fumbling my words I was utterly distracted watching you in the middle of the crowd, secretly riding out what looked like an intense contraction. I was in awe of you, still smiling and beaming with pride, while your body squeezed and contracted and opened for our baby. You’d never looked more beautiful.
I regurgitated my well rehearsed speech, looking only at you, as if the rest of the room no longer existed. Your full and swollen bosom was rising and falling rapidly atop your large, firm belly, and you seemed to be panting silently through the wave. Minutes passed and contraction wasn’t letting you go, I was still talking and you were still squirming in your chair. I watched as you grit your teeth, gripping the sides of your chair and spreading your legs wider under the table. Your demeanor shifted, something had changed. I could see your jaw clamped, teeth almost bared, and your face was contorted with effort—
Holy shit you were pushing!!!
I gripped the podium in front of me, my hips twitching, the sight of you pushing nearly throwing me over the edge of ecstasy. Clearing my throat, I managed to continue my speech, all the while I watched you instinctively push right there in the middle of this formal event. I smirked as I got towards the end, where I very publicly thanked my beautiful pregnant wife. All eyes across the venue suddenly turned in your direction. I didn’t know what you’d do, whether you’d admit defeat and acknowledge your labour, or if you’d continued to hide the fact you were uncontrollably pushing….
To my surprise, your face broke into a wide gleeful grin as you waved at me on stage and blew a kiss across the room, amazingly keeping up appearances. But your legs were wide under the table, I could see from this position up on the stage just how far apart they’d spread. Was our baby crowning underneath that silk dress of yours? How close were they to coming out? How long could you keep up pretences before nature took full control?…
I practically skipped off the stage back towards our table, the room clapping with obligatory applause.
“You’re pushing.” I whispered in your ear as I bent down to kiss your cheek.
“Mmmmh— couldn’t help it—” you growled a reply, equally as quiet but heavy with effort.
“We can’t leave right now, everyone will be watching us.” I sat down in my chair beside you, slipping my arm around you and pulling you closer into an embrace.
“I— I know—” you were panting, legs spread under the table, your hand gripping my thigh and digging your nails in.
“How much longer can you hold on darling? How close is the baby?” My words were thick with excitement.
“Baby… is low… but I don’t think… they’re crowning yet…. But-unhhhhhhhhhh-I can’t stop pushing—”
“Shhhhh… you’re doing brilliantly my love. If you can, try little pushes for now. We don’t know if you’re fully dilated and we don’t want you to tear.” I cooed, stroking your thigh that was spread open right against mine.
As the next award was announced, I heard you grunting during the applause. You said the baby wasn’t crowning but those sounds you were making, your subtle movements, were all too familiar to me. We certainly weren’t going to make it home for this birth, and I doubted if we’d even make it to the car. And yet you gave me no signs of wanting to move, staring blankly up at the stage as your chest heaved and your belly contracted, silently pushing our baby closer to this world.
“You’re doing wonderful darling, so incredible. Keep doing what your body tells you—”
“— I can feel the head—” you suddenly blurted out, twitching on your seat and pulling your legs together with an obvious grimace.
“Let’s go, now while everyone’s distracted.” I put my arms around you, helping you out of your chair. You were trembling.
“Mmmmmgh— it feels like the baby is gonna fall out—” you moaned under your breath, cradling your belly as you rose to your feet.
I laughed a little, supporting your hips. “It’s not going to fall out sweetheart, you’ve got a lot more pushing to go yet.” I purred in your ear as I led you out the dinner hall, your legs were unsteady and your gait was obscenely wide. I had no idea what was going on under your clothing, how close the baby was to being born, which only made this whole situation all the more thrilling.
Beyond the doors of the formal company dinner, the moan that came from your mouth was deep and guttural as you stopped to brace against a nearby wall. Palms to the flat surface your hips jerked backwards against me as you bore down uncontrollably.
“Nnnnnghhh— ohhhhhh I can feel the head— starting to come out—”
I rubbed your back and hips, squeezing and providing counter pressure that I knew you’d need. “Try not to push too hard babe… we need to get you back to the car…”
Realising the corridor was empty, all guests inside the dinner hall, I slipped a hand under the silk fabric of your dress climbing up your inner thigh to feel your progress. I didn’t even make it to your entrance as I felt the distinct bulge of your underwear, the head nestled so low it was pushing against your lower lips.
“Oh fuck babe…. The head is right there…” I groaned, fingers running across the damp fabric of your cotton underwear.
“Nnnnnghh— I know— I can feel it— trying to come out—” you huffed, your fingers curling against the wall as your body continued to bear down without your permission.
“Hold on a bit longer— we need to get you to the car.” I tried to plead with you but I knew you were not the one in control here. We were at the mercy of Mother Nature. We played a dangerous game and I just hoped I could get you somewhere private.
“I don’t know if I can make it—”
“What do you need darling? What do you want to do?” I groaned into your ear, my body flushed behind you, my hands still under your dress between your legs.
“Nnnnghh— hold it in— while I push—” you spluttered as you widened your stance, preparing for another push.
My hand moved, cupping your womanhood with my palm. “I’ve got you baby— do what you need to do—” I could barely contain my excitement at what was happening. My body tensed in time with yours and I felt the bulge against my palm grow as you pushed, the first sliver of our baby starting to part you from within.
“Keep going, my love, I won’t let them come out too fast.”
Your sounds were deep and gravelled and primal, but not loud enough to draw the attention of anyone inside the venue. One… two… three grunting pushes against my palm and the baby hadn’t made much progress. Thankfully.
“Ohhhh— okay— it’s passed—” you croaked, pushing yourself away from the wall and catching your breath.
“Are you ready to try walking to the car again?” My hand moved up and down your lower back affectionately, keeping you supported.
You nodded, running a hand over the full swell of your belly. “Yes, let’s keep moving. But we need to go slow… the head is right there, just inside of me.”
Growling at your statement, I wrapped my arm around your waist to support you as we both walked slowly down the corridor. “I know darling, it’s really close. Our little one is very eager to meet us.” I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face, looking down at you with that full belly, your bow-legged walk, on the cusp of giving birth at any moment.
We made it out of the venue but on the steps out the front of the building you abruptly stopped and grabbed the railing, bending your knees and grunting with an uncontrollable push.
“Oh darling…” I quickly moved my hands to your hips to support you as your body bore down instinctively. “This one really is in a hurry. Just go with it, but we need to get you to the car soon.”
You shuddered and almost mooed with the effort of your push, your body taking full control in this moment in a desperate bid to expel our baby from your womb. Over and over again you pushed. I couldn’t move my hands to check your progress, they were supporting all your weight at this moment. We were halfway down the steps outside the venue and nowhere near our car, a far cry from the privacy I wanted for our child’s birth.
You grunted with each push, the sound sending all the blood in my body to my crotch. I knew from our previous births just how hard you were pushing, knowing the baby was probably slipping forward and back under your dress with each push. “Sweetheart…. Are we going to make it back to the car?” I asked nervously, feeling your knees bend a little more, your hips lowering slightly.
“Nnnnnghhh—don’t know— it’s definitely— starting to c-c-c-crown—!” You groaned between pushes.
When the contraction finished you were gasping for air as you twisted from the railing and sagged into my arms. “My…. My knickers… seem to be keeping the baby… from coming out….” Your voice was a caressed whisper against my chest.
“You’re doing amazing, my love. You’re an incredible goddess.” I said, kissing the top of your head and holding you and your swollen belly against me. “Do you want to keep going? Or are we having this baby right here?”
The look you gave me was filled with both pleasure and pain, your eyes glistening with dark enjoyment. “Let’s— keep going— I can hold them in….”
I took this moment between contractions to feel your progress, my hands running from you hip down your leg and up under your dress. Your body shivered when I reached the apex of your thighs.
“Are you sure about that, my love?” I asked with a teasing arch of my eyebrows as my fingers brushed over your underwear. “That’s not just you I can feel…. The baby’s head is really starting to crown.”
“I- I know—” your words were breathy and husky, and I could tell you were feeling extremely full right now.
“And you think you can walk all the way across the car park with a baby between your legs?” My fingers gently stroked circles on the soft flesh of your inner thigh.
You nodded, but your face grimaced with another contraction and you started to pant against my chest, squeezing my shoulders.
“You want to push again, don’t you sweetheart?”
You nodded against me.
“But you don’t want to give birth right here?”
You shook your head.
My hand then moved back over the partially crowned head in your underwear, cupping the sphere and holding it in place.
“Shhh… it’s okay I got you. Push baby…. You can push now….” I growled into your ear as I wrapped my arm around your waist while the other was cupped between your legs. “Push right against my hand— that’s it— I’ll keep you from crowning fully…”
It felt like your entire body was quaking against me as you submitted to your body’s instincts and bore down right against my palm. The sounds you made were animalistic and feral, it was music to my ears. You pushed for another minute and a half, with each one I could feel the pressure from the baby’s head pressing more and more against my palm. Eventually you were released from the contraction, breathing heavily and barely able to stand.
“Let’s…go….before…the…next one…comes…” you whispered, exhausted but clearly aroused.
Together we walked slowly across the carpark, our car seemed like a mirage in the distance, but you were determined and I was more than happy to comply. I wondered how many times we would have to stop on the way, how many times I would need to cup your bulging lips, so you could have the birth you wanted in the comfort of our car.
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Urgh, you know what I need? I need a man to force his thick hard cock into my pussy in front of a screen and camera. Then gently explain, while I drip pathetically around his cock, that the screen will show me phrases I need to say out loud. If I refuse to say one, or accidentally miss one, the recording of this entire thing will be posted online for everyone to see. Complete with my name and face, of course.
Then he destroys my (embarrassingly wet) cunt as I'm forced to moan the most pathetic porny phrases. And of course, they get longer and more humiliating as it goes...
"My pussy feels so good... She loves sucking on big throbbing dicks..."
"Please defile my womanhood with your delicious sperm. Please please please!"
"My cunt has never felt so amazing.... Being stretched around a thick meaty rod is making me gush so hard."
"I love cock so much. I want to be fucked with cocks forever. I love serving cocks, my only purpose is serving cocks. My pussy drools whenever I think of cocks."
"I love being fucked by men. My cunt always wants more hot man cock to gobble up. I can't help creaming and squirting when I feel cockhead against my cervix. Clenching and cumming on a hard fertile penis feels so good. Thank you penis!"
"Please cum inside of my tight slutty pussy, pretty please. I want nothing more in the world. I'd do anything to feel your semen flood my womb, I'm so needy and desperate. I want your cock-milk swimmers to coat my walls and gang-rape my egg until I'm pregnant. Please I'm begging you, please breed me please."
Etc. etc.
Of course, eventually I cum so hard I can't read or think, and by the time my silly cockdrunk brain processes what happened, it's too late. I missed one.
Now everyone online will get to see me begging and moaning and humiliating myself, and cumming my brains out while doing so...
That thought makes me clench so hard in fear and arousal that I immediately cum again, drooling and twitching in pleasure.
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im normal and well-adjusted and i do not want to be forcibly made into someone’s perfect obedient girlfriend. that would be crazy.
i absolutely do not want a man to choose all my clothing for me on a daily basis and make sure that i’m always wearing something explicitly feminine, something that guarantees people will be able to see my tits or my waist. i do not want to be punished for presenting masculinely. i do not want a man to take me out on dates and refer to me exclusively with she/her pronouns, correcting anyone who doesn’t.
no, no, i could never want a man to casually grope me, slipping his hands down my panties just to feel me squirm, touching me just to remind me of what i have between my legs. i would never fantasize about being fingered while i beg him to stop, but he doesn’t listen — he’s far too focused on the way my pussy clenches around him when he calls me his good girl.
i would be absolutely terrible if a man pinned me underneath him with my legs spread and forced me to watch as his cock slid into me. i’d hate it sooo, sooooo much if he fucked me and spent the entire duration of it telling me how i’m just a stupid girl, i’m confused, but it’s okay, it’s all in my head, my body is perfectly healthy and obviously female, and he’ll help me understand. he’ll fix me.
and god i’d really hate it if he came inside me unprotected, filling me with his cum as he deliberately fucked it deeper into me, attempting to knock me up so i truly understand reality from imagination.
i definitely do not want any of that at all
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I miss my girlfriend so much 😭 I literally need her to pin me down and rape me
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Had a lovely dream...
Well, more of a scene, than a dream. There was a girl in a dress who was modeling, the cameras going non-stop, even when I turned the chair to have her face me. Putting my hands atop the dress, she first seemed to reach to stop, but instead moved her hands behind the chair, allowing me to lower the dress to below her bust. The cameras continued until I turned her around, they seemed reluctant for pictures showing actual nipple, but they started up again once I gave each breast a firm squeeze, covering the nipple in each hand.
A lovely sub, who, when threatened with exposure, either assists or submissively does nothing to stop it, no matter who may see.
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im so brain dead i love watching porn where women are humiliated and abused. i love porn that shows women are just gross slaves for men to do whatever they want. porn porn porn
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I've been calling my butch girlfriend my husband in a bdsm way, yeah it's like a sex thing
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ever fingered a girl until she begs you to stop and then fucked her with the big vibe that makes her squeal and go “owie!” and then turned the vibe on so her eyes roll back in her head and she whimpers like a puppy and then made her cum until she has literal tears in her eyes and can barely form the words to beg you “no mooooore mommyyyyy”
cause if not then i would highly recommend 👍
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