#lick from head to toe

[speedyshark95]

SWEATY, SERVING, HAIR?MOISTURED,PUSS OUT TO THE WORLD, INSANE STANCE this mannnnnnnn

SO REAL

ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME OMFG

[foreverisntenough]

Erm if Trent is “fat” then I am so sorry. I am fr cooked cause that isn’t fat😀🥲

We don't compare here! You're gorge!!

Still, he isn't... Like far from it. I know that man is lightttt irl. Footybros are just salty with him (I am too most days.) So they always come for him.

But that man?!? That body?!? YUMMY. I was greeedddyyyy when he peeled that top off.

[naamahdarling]

The problem with Jasper is that I am terribly fond of him and am obsessed with his little face and his little feet and think he is absolutely the cutest cat I have ever seen and I could look at him and love on him forever, but he never, ever wants to be held or cuddled BY ME and is a strictly my-boyfriend-snuggler and hanging-out-with-me kind of dude who gives me one good grooming a day, in the morning, and he will give kisses, and that's it. All I want is to stroke him and rub his belly and cuddle him while he purrs and meanwhile he is only interested in the peanut butter cracker wrapper that I dropped and getting it into his stupid little gullet as fast as he possibly can.

I love and appreciate the Jeebers for the independent little souls they are, they are absolutely entitled to whatever boundaries they prefer, and I'm happy to be a home where that is (almost) completely respected.

But oh my god he is PERFECTLY shaped for cuddling.

CUDDLE ME!

[damsel-loves-machines]

Whipped Cream. Honey. Caramel. Syrup.

Lucifer indulges himself in these delicacies when he pairs them with his favorite snacks.

Apples.

Various apple based desserts.

You.

[itsseohannbin]

Hey bestie

Hey bestie?? Yeah, just say you fkn hate me at this point cause honestly what the fuck?

I'm so normal about this

So extremely normal

The most normal a human being can be about something like this

[hana-no-seiiki]

i know i said i wouldnt be doing fem readers with batfam anytime soon

but fucken

batfam! with dommy mommy reader

[minkieater]

the most beautiful man to ever exist

[vicsstars]

lawd have mercy

oh wow. the biceps. the smirk. the hands.

i’m #OverlyGoing 🙏

[rafesthroatbaby]

Fuck in a private jet, public place, rocket ship like we outer space

RAFE CAMERON VIBES

_____________

FOLLOW MY NSFW SIDE BLOG @demonvybes

[imbitterr]

“what an angry little man” -krauser, probably.

added the arm shot as a little treat…

[meaningtotellyou]

what song is it? i can’t hear clearly

what’s your fantasy - ludacris 😭

[enginedrivermp3]

everyone look away i'm making a john carter playlist....

[chetter-holmgren]

Not a single appropriate thought in my head right now

[gojosconsort]

Hey! I was wondering if you could maybe do a part 3 to Nanami and his innocent wife? You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.

“these bikinis are so tiny now,” you muse, poking your head out from the dressing room curtain. your husband kento slumps in a store chair, exhausted from working overtime and now you’re dragging him through this beachwear shop for a vacation he’s dreading—because you, his sweet, clueless wife, are a walking test of his sanity, and he’s losing.

“what’s the problem, honey?” he says while he’s trying to focus on the tacky store decor—anything but the thought of you in a bikini and your curves, because every time you step out, all innocent, his cock twitches and he’s one step from fucking you against the mirror until you’re a whimpering mess.

you yank the curtain open, stepping out, and kento nearly dies right here and there. the bikini’s a fucking crime—neon pink, two pathetic triangles straining against your tits, which threaten to spill over. the fabric’s stretched so tight it’s basically transparent, nipples hard from the store’s AC, and the straps are screaming for mercy, digging into your skin, pushing those pretty boobs up and out.

“my boobs don’t fit,” you pout, tugging at the top, making them bounce and jiggle in a way that sends kento’s cock throbbing painfully hard.

“fuck,” he chokes, voice a strangled wheeze. you giggle, oblivious, bouncing on your toes, and the bikini groans, one tit nearly popping free, a sliver of pink nipple taunting him—kento’s mouth waters, aching to lick that teasing peek, to push the fabric aside and tease the stiff bud with slow, hungry swirls of his tongue.

“it’s so tight, kento, look!” you say, spinning to check the mirror, and your ass in the matching thong bottom—plump, barely covered—makes his cock leak, a wet spot blooming dark against his pants, precum soaking through as he shifts, trying to hide it. “looks good” he rasps, sounding like he’s been punched, eyes glued to your chest, where every jiggle is slow-motion torture.

he’s picturing it—ripping that bikini off, sucking those fat tits, pinning you to the wall, fucking you raw until you’re dripping with him, your throat too hoarse to speak. his slacks are a prison, cock throbbing, balls tight, and he bites his cheek, the sting doing nothing to stop the feral spiral in his head.

“good?” you laugh, turning back, still tugging, making your breasts bounce more, each wobble a dagger to his control. “kento, they’re almost falling out!” you say, pouting, and start testing the fit—hopping, bending, shaking your shoulders, making your breasts bounce harder, each ripple shredding his sanity.

“see? it doesn’t fit!” you say, doing a little shimmy, and kento’s jaw locks, teeth grinding, a low groan trapped in his throat. he’s feral, imagining pinning you down, tying your wrists with his tie, gagging you with his cock till you’re choking, those tits bouncing as he fucks your throat raw.

you bend forward, inspecting the straps, and your tits sway, nearly spilling, the motion hypnotic. then you twist, checking the mirror, do a little spin, arms raised, and your tits bounce again, threatening to burst free with every turn while kento’s eyes are unblinking, glued to your chest.

how he wishes he could bend you over the chair right now, spanking that plump ass red, then fucking you from behind, hands squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples until you’re sobbing his name, cum leaking down your thighs as he fills you again and again.

“it’s so silly, right?” you say, still moving, hopping again, your boobs jiggling like they’re mocking him, the straps slipping, one inch from disaster. his cock’s throbbing, leaking so much and he’s picturing unloading on your tits, painting them white, watching it drip while you look up, all sweet.

then it happens—one strap snaps, a tit spills free, full, round, nipple taut and teasing, bouncing with your last hop. kento’s done, a guttural “we’re leaving” ripping out as he thinks he’s gotta buy this thing before he cums in his pants right here in the store, and he’s up, chair screeching, wet spot glaring. “let’s buy the damn thing already.”

[nekomamiiz]

@bokutone

30 year old bokuto

[sinkuna]

୨୧ — Nanami’s uneven footsteps shuffle against the wooden floors, his tie already slung over his shoulder, dress shirt wrinkled. He toes off his shoes with a clumsy thud, muffling a hiccup as he shrugs off his crumpled suit jacket. The bed dips as he kneels behind you, his warmth seeping through the thin sheet fabric before he stills- breath held, as if afraid to wake you.

"Mm... there you are," he slurs softly, calloused fingers brushing aside your hair so that he can press feather light kisses to the curve of your shoulder, "Missed... hic… missed your warmth." breath reeking of bourbon.

"Couldn't... hic... stop thinking 'bout you," a trail of saliva glistening as he licks up your spine, teeth scraping the nape of your neck. His hips grind sloppily into your ass, slacks straining against the swell of his cock, "Just... needed t'feel you. That okay?… 'S been... too long."

You stir slightly with a sleepy murmur, but he shushes you with a nose nuzzled into your hair, "Shh, I-let me... let me just..." A shaky exhale fans across your ear as he continues to grind gently against you, "Mmph, always feels... so good, m’ my perfect little wife."

With trembling fingers, Nanami undoes his belt with clumsy haste, the metal buckle clattering to the floor, a hiss escaping his clenched teeth as he pushes down his slacks. His bare cock nestles between the swell of your ass, hot and twitching and slick with beads of pre cum drooling from his tip.

"Please," he groans, a desperate note in his voice, "I- hic- need to-"

He gasps as his bare cock nudges against your already damp underwear, the fabric catching on the swollen head. "Hah-fuck," he curses, hands sliding down your sides to squeeze at your hips, pulling them back until they're flush with his own, "So wet- so wet for me, dear."

His hands tremble as they slide down your thighs, hooking his thumb under the elastic waistband and pulling them aside, "Can't wait, 'm sorry, I need-" He cuts himself off with a soft whine, rubbing the head of his cock against your slick folds.

Snapping his hips forward, your drunk loving husband buries himself inside of you with a choked moan, his hands squeezing tightly, "Shit- you're so hot and-hic-t-tight." His head hangs over your shoulder as his cock throbs inside of you, twitching and spasming at the sudden heat, his breaths stuttering.

It's slow. Aching. Each shallow thrust accompanied by broken whispers against your skin-"So good... like this. Wanna... wanna hold you." His hips stutter, alcohol making him clumsy, but his hands stay gentle, adoring as they map the expanse of your body, his lips trailing across every inch of skin he can reach. "Love you- love you s'much. Never-mmm, never letting go, I- I swear it," his voice cracks, his pace quickening, desperation bleeding into his movements.

His rhythm fractures- a stuttering, vulnerable push as he bottoms out. You could feel it in your sleep- in your dreams where your mind showed your hardworking husband fucking a child into you- the first tremor through his thighs, the choked "Nngh—!" vibrating against your shoulder blade. Then the pulse before a flood of warmth spills into your fertile womb.

"K-Kento~," you sigh, a dreamy smile spreading across your lips.

He groans out your name, half sobbing, hips grinding in tiny circles as if to coax every last drop before collapsing against you, "My... my love... right here." His wedding band glints in the moonlight, sticky with proof. "Always... always here… always ‘gonna come… home to you..."

By morning you’re curled in his embrace, his tie knotted loosely around your joined hands.

⋆｡˚꒰ঌ 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ໒꒱˚｡⋆