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#lesbian
bbybluemochi · 1 day
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“You must come with me, loving me, to death; or else hate me, and still come with me” Carmilla, 1872.
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princessmiaaaaaa · 20 hours
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queerism1969 · 3 days
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sapphicjoy · 3 days
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flowersforvi · 2 days
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need a blurb about ellie masturbating..
i’m going insane over this ask thank u anon.
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ellie only really ever masturbates unless if she’s insanely desperate. sometimes it just gets to a point where she can’t control herself, and she’s all needy for someone’s touch.
she would have her boxes pulled down to her lower thigh, all other clothes disregarded onto the floor. one hand is touching her tit, groping and kneading it as she pleases. her other hand is making small circles on her clit, her pussy wet n aching.
poor baby doesn’t even know what she’s thinking about, all she has on her mind right now is the thought of how fucking good it’ll feel when she finally gets to cum. ellie would let out little gasps n heavy breaths, not wanting to be too loud.
at some point she just can’t control herself, bucking her hips into her own hand, clit rubbing so perfectly against her fingers. she’s a panting mess, sweat dripping from her forehead. god, she needs to cum so fucking bad.
sometimes she’ll even beg, not to anyone in specific, just someone— anyone that’s listening, to cum. it’s so fucking cute, els will even whisper it, as if she has to hide it from someone.
“pleasepleaseplease, let me cum— i’ll be good, ill do whatever you need me to— just let me cum please.”
n a few short moments later she will, moving her hand from her tits to her mouth, trying to cover any noise that spills from it. she’s breathing heavy, hips slowing their movements. she’s just sosooo cute trying her hardest to get off all by herself :(.
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So I read the first 3 volumes of She Loves To Cook and She Loves To Eat (Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna) by Sakaomi Yuzaki, and um, Sublime. 11/10. Perfect. Preordered volume 4. Cannot wait.
VOLUME 1 VOLUME 2 VOLUME 3 VOLUME 4
Expect a lot of content from this one in coming weeks.
The story is about two women who live alone in small apartments.
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Yuki Nomoto is an office worker in a men's world. She loves to cook but tends to cook more than she can eat because she loves the creation aspect more than the eating. Moreover, she loves cooking big portions and desperately wishes she had someone to cook for. But not a man. Nope.
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Totoko Kasuga is an alcohol merchandiser who lives two doors down from her. She's a very big, tall woman who eats a lot, and fascinates Nomoto when she's seen carrying home a family-size KFC order- just for her.
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Nomoto decides to invite her over for dinner, and the two women immediately hit it off, planning future dinners, making weekend trips to farmer's markets, and planning their winter holidays together.
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Eventually, the apartment between theirs is rented by a younger woman who needs to get away from her overbearing family, She befriends her new neighbors and they bond over how traditional Japanese values have hurt them all in some way.
Nomoto connects via Twitter with other women who share her interests and help her discover who she is and who she wants to be.
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The series makes a lot of commentary about how much of what women do is expected to be for men's consumption. Why do I have to cook for men? Why do I have to dress cute for men? Why are men prioritized in family life? Why is the love between women so stigmatized? Why is it seen as lesser? Why is there so little dating advice for sapphic women?
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Things I love about this story:
The love interest is a big girl like me!
It explores the emotional intimacy of cooking and eating together - my primary love language
Romance without all the shuddering, blushing, awkward hand-holding and attempts to kiss that get dragged out for 50 chapters, which can be cute but gets tiresome
Acknowledgement of asexual, aromantic and demisexual identities
Productive discussion of the ways "well-meaning" parents abuse their children without hitting them
Things I don't like about the series:
No step-by-step cooking instructions!
It leaves me with a strong desire to try cooking things I simply can't get all the ingredients for without a trip to an Asian market 30+ minutes away, which feels like such a drag because I work in a grocery store, and I hate going grocery shopping by myself.
The longing for a girl-next-door type meetcute has intensified.
I love cooking and baking. I love food. I love wine and beer and dinner cocktails. I dislike that I don't get to share this love with others.
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This is what love looks like. This series was tailor-made for me.
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cherryinthesun · 2 days
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Blake x Yang - Spring
It's a first out of four illustrations from my new small project 'Four Seasons of Love' with Bumbleby! ^^
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sigmahimejoshi · 2 days
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A sub who's never rode anybody before, and their loving dom who holds their hips and teaches them how to grind perfectly but is secretly just abusing their subs spot and not doing any teaching!
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k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl · 3 days
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Magic games night tonight
I am once again the hottest bitch there~
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wandagcre · 15 hours
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taste of divine – perv!wanda series 🔞
You consult your upfront and flirty best friend Wanda about your struggles of reaching orgasm. She happily guides you through it, but the following events ended up being more than what you bargained for.
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gif source: aftertheglitterfades
WARNING: dom!wanda, sub!reader, corruption kink, pillow riding, first times, fingering, praise, wanda talking you through it, heavy dubcon/noncon themes, fingering, perverted actions: implied stealing undies, staring, touching and taking nonconsensual nudes, using inanimate objects for teasing/sex, daddy kink (W), somnophilia, fingering under the table, manipulation
💌act i: push it for the pleasure 💌act ii: it's a trap (when you act like that) 💌act iii: i got what you need
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do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre
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bonewreath · 13 hours
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞! ** 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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summary: modern au; ellie moves to a big city to escape the past. she goes to her first lesbian bar, where she meets you.
cw: porn with…a whisper of plot; alcohol use, fingering (e!receiving), strap-on sex, bottom!ellie, slightly sub!ellie, she’s whiny here
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Ellie’s never been to a lesbian bar.
It’s surreal - banners of colorful pride flags are strung across the room, some of which she can’t even identify. Distressed and faded posters are plastered on the stone walls, advertising drag shows and queer punk bands with names like The Cranky Dykes and T-Girl Social. Nearly every patron is tatted or pierced, and there’s more platform boots and fishnet clothing than Ellie’s ever seen in one place before. Before she’d moved to the city, Ellie had lit up with excitement at the thought of visiting a lesbian bar. But now, in her worn Harley Davidson tee and a pair of jeans with unintentional rips at the knees, she feels very much out of her depth. 
Steeling her nerves, she internally reminds herself that this is exactly why she’d moved in the first place - she needed new experiences. She needed unfamiliarity. What she’d left back in Texas was her normal, and she planned to build a new normal here. One that was the antithesis of everything she’d known before. 
The bar isn’t completely packed, but she does need to push past dancing, sweaty bodies, girls sucking on each other’s faces, and chatting cliques to get to the edge of the bar, where more clusters of people are calling out drink orders and thrusting wads of cash tips at the bartenders. By some miracle, an empty barstool presents itself after a drunken patron with a mohawk stumbles out of it, and Ellie swoops in to snatch it before someone else does. She sits there for a good few minutes, trying to capture a bartender’s attention, until someone shuffles up beside her and sticks a hand out to wave one over. And, of course, they notice immediately, heading over with a towel slung over their shoulder. Ellie sinks lower into her seat, cheeks burning.
“I’ll have a spicy marg,” the woman beside Ellie says, voice projecting loud enough to hear over the clamor of music and chatter. The bartender nods, then goes to step away, but the woman next to Ellie stops her, speaking with that attention-commanding voice.
“What are you having?” 
The bartender’s gaze shifts to Ellie, still hunched over and beet-red in the face. She flushes impossibly redder when she looks up at the woman who’d just ordered, realizing that the question had been directed at her. 
“Oh,” she blurts, posture straightening. She glances at the woman, anxiety flaring, then back at the bartender. “Um, an old fashioned. Please. Thanks.”
Just as quickly as they’d come, the bartender disappears again, off to pour precisely-measured shots and mix cocktails in shiny silver shakers. Ellie’s hands are in her lap, fiddling restlessly, when she finally forces herself to look up at the woman who’d practically had to order for her. 
You smile at her when she meets your gaze. Though she’s trying to be subtle about it, you can feel the way Ellie drinks in your every feature, eyes flickering over your face, then your body. It’s obvious that she likes what she sees, because she has a hard time looking you in the eye again. 
“Thanks,” she says. “I’ve been trying to order for a while.”
“So I saw,” you respond, but not unkindly. You take a moment to look her over, although you’d already done plenty of that before you’d even approached her - you had seen her from across the bar, looking forlorn, her leg bouncing beneath the edge of the bar as she tried (and failed) to order herself a drink. Her lack of confidence is what piqued your interest; it was hard to believe that someone that gorgeous wasn’t oozing arrogance and self-importance. She’s all lean muscles and shaggy hair, her forearm decorated with a sprawling fern tattoo. You could already imagine yourself running your hands through that hair, kissing the length of her sharp jawline, pulling those narrow hips up against your own. 
At a lesbian bar, a hot girl who couldn’t carry herself with confidence usually meant one of two things: she’s fresh out of a breakup, or she’d never been somewhere like this. You’re determined to find out which of the two applies to her.
“What’s your name? I haven’t seen you here before.” You angle your body to face Ellie, popping your hip out as subtly as you can. 
Ellie, determined to keep her eyes on your face and not the curve of your hip or the delicious sliver of cleavage peeking out of your square-neck top, peers up at you from behind her bangs. “Uh, yeah, I’ve never been. I just moved here. I’m Ellie - what’s your name?”
You tell her your name and she repeats it slowly, like she’s tasting every syllable. “Pretty.”
Your drinks arrive before you can fumble for a response. 
“Spicy marg, old fashioned,” the bartender lists as they slide your drinks over the smooth wood of the bar. Ellie murmurs her thanks and you nod at the bartender before they disappear, your hand curling around the glass. 
“Cheers?” You tip your drink towards Ellie. She clinks her own glass against yours and the two of you take your first sips, the bitterness of the alcohol burning its way down your throat. You feel it settle in your stomach, warm and satisfying. 
“So,” you begin, licking jalapeño and lime-tinged tequila from your lips. Ellie’s eyes follow the movement for a moment before she catches herself and looks away. “Where’d you move from?”
Ellie smiles shyly. You watch her index finger trace the rim of her glass. “Texas.”
“Oh?” One of your brows lifts. “And what made you want to move here, Texas?”
“For one, I’m gay.” 
“Thank you for stating the obvious.”
She lets out a little laugh, and the sound makes you want to grin - you take a sip of your margarita instead. 
“I just… Couldn’t be there anymore,” she elaborates. “It wasn’t right for me. I needed to start fresh.”
You don’t say anything for a moment, letting Ellie’s words sink in. Clearly, something severe enough had happened to make her want to shed her life in Texas like an old skin. And this lesbian bar, filled with every unique kind of queer this city had to offer, was part of this new version of Ellie - the version she’d chosen to build from the ground up. You’re struck by how brave Ellie must be for that. And yeah, maybe she’d struggled to order a drink for herself, but that didn’t take away from her bravery - not when she’d willfully chosen to uproot her life, a decision most people could never follow through with. 
“I’m impressed,” you say honestly. “And I hope the city gives you what you’re looking for.”
The corners of Ellie’s lips twitch, and that pretty blush fights its way onto her cheeks again. You’re about to say something when you hear the first notes of one of your favorite songs thumping through the speakers, a few other bargoers cheering to express their own excitement. 
“Dance with me,” you say to Ellie, reaching forward with your free hand to grab her forearm. She looks up at you like a deer in headlights.
“I can’t dance.”
“Doesn’t matter, just follow my lead. C’mon.”
“I don’t know if—”
“Didn’t you come here to try new things?” You curl your fingers around Ellie’s wrist, and she lets you pull her to her feet. You’ve made a good point, and she doesn’t argue again - just follows you to the dancefloor, where dozens of others are already moving to the beat of the music, hips rolling, heads nodding. The lights pulsate in the vibrant colors of the rainbow, the crowd painted shades of sunset orange, hot pink, deep indigo. You sip your drink and start to dance, turning to face Ellie; she’s gaping at you, unmoving. 
“Come here,” you say, having to shout over the music. Ellie steps closer to you as you move to the rhythm, hips swishing. You’re wearing a pair of flared pants that makes your ass look incredible, and after Ellie finally starts to dance along with you, you turn around to bring your backside closer to her. As if by instinct, Ellie’s arm loops around your waist - she presses her palm into the front of your pelvis, rolls her hips against your ass. You grin, wide and self-satisfied, as you lift your drink to your lips again - only to realize it’s almost gone. You make a mental note to head back to the bar after this song, but for now, you enjoy the last few drops of your margarita, revelling in the feeling of Ellie’s hand, strong on your hip, as she presses ever-closer into you from behind. 
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Ellie’s in awe of you. 
The way you’d strolled up beside her at the bar, posture proud, buying Ellie a drink and flirting with her like it was easy, natural. The way you’d let your eyes wander over her figure, not shy at all about the lust in your gaze. The way you’d dragged her to the dancefloor and ground your ass back against her, smelling like lime and tequila and something headier, something distinctly you. 
Now, after two strong drinks and several songs-worth of dancing with you, Ellie’s so turned on she feels like a live wire, sparks erupting from her every nerve. 
On the dancefloor, Ellie had looped her arm around your hips, leaning in so close she could smell the liquor on your breath. You’d needed to fight down every urge to kiss her first - you weren’t even sure if she’d ever kissed another woman before, and you’d already done enough to pull her out of her shell for the night. But Ellie had leaned her forehead against yours, noses brushing, eyes fluttering shut… And your mouths had crashed together in the sort of kiss you’re going to have a very hard time forgetting.
After making out in the crowd like that for god knows how long, you’d invited Ellie back to your apartment. Which brings you to your current predicament: Ellie’s backed up against the front door, your hand under her shirt, fingers dancing over every inch of her deliciously solid abdomen. If Ellie’s inexperienced, she’s doing a fabulous job of pretending she isn’t. But you’re not sure just how innocent she is now, as she moans unabashedly into your mouth, your hand squeezing her tits over her sports bra. 
“Hey,” you breathe, pulling back from the heated kiss you’d been sharing. 
“Mm?” Ellie blinks at you, dazed. You want to ruin her. 
“Is this okay?” You peck at her lips, then her cheek. “We don’t have to… Do anything. Not if you don’t want to.” 
Ellie’s bangs are gorgeously tousled, and she looks at you like a kicked puppy - all round eyes and furrowed brows, worried you’re taking something from her. “But I… I want to.” 
“You sure?” 
Ellie nods. 
“Have you ever been with another woman before?” Your stomach twists at the directness of your own question, but you really want to know. Need to know. A bar hookup might not be the best way for her to pop her cherry - or, at least, her gay cherry. 
Then again, it’s not exactly unheard of in the community.
“Yeah. I have,” Ellie says, her hand reaching out to grab your hip. 
You find yourself wanting to pry, dig deeper for more information, but there’s no real reason for it. She’s not entirely new to this. She wants you. That’s all that really matters, right?
So you take her to your bedroom, let her undress you with shaky, calloused hands, kiss her slow and sweet while she unbuttons her jeans and kicks them aside. You help each other undress until you’re both naked, and then you’re stumbling into bed, your legs straddling Ellie’s hips as you kiss down her neck, stopping to suck pretty purple bruises into the sensitive skin. Ellie makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper, sending another white-hot jolt of arousal through you. Your cunt is spread over her pelvis, and you grind down against her like that, letting out a pleased sound of your own.
 “God, you’re so hot,” Ellie mutters, watching you roll your hips as you kiss down to her chest. She reaches for your tits, squeezes them in her palms. 
“Yeah?” You smile, sharp and wolfish, down at Ellie. She looks at you like she can’t believe this is happening - like she can’t believe you’re real. “Gonna let me fuck you, Ellie?”
She moans at the obscenity of the question, nodding quickly. “Yes, god, please fuck me.”
“Mm,” you hum, “need to get you ready first, baby.”
Ellie’s breathing is ragged, her hips lifting, seeking friction. You climb down her body until you’re settled between her legs, pulling her knees apart to give yourself access to her center. She’s fucking soaked - you bite your lip at the sight of her, clit swollen and puffy, labia shining with arousal. 
You start with one finger, dipping into the wetness pooled at her entrance and spreading it up to her clit, drawing sharp breaths and staggering moans from Ellie’s kiss-bitten lips. Every sound she makes has you yearning to hear more, more. You slide your middle finger into her clenching hole and groan when you feel her walls open up smoothly around the digit. She pulses around you, hot and slick. When you begin pumping your finger in and out of that tight heat, Ellie’s noises become even more drawn-out, even more frantic - you look up at her and find her eyes already on you, dark with lust, a desperate, pleading expression etched onto her face. 
“You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” you coo at her, revelling in the way her pussy tightens at your words. 
“I–nngh, fuck–I need…” She trails off, jaw clenching. 
You fake-pout at her, puff out your lower lip in faux sympathy. “What is it? What do you need?”
“Need more,” Ellie pants out.
“I can give you more, sweetheart,” you reassure her, “all you had to do was ask.”
So, you give her more. You slip another finger inside of her, press the heel of your hand against the sensitive nub of her clit; your fingers curl upwards in the warmth of her cunt, finding that spongy, sensitive spot that’ll make her see stars. She whines - actually fucking whines, high-pitched and desperate, as if to say yes, right there.
“Shit, oh my god…” Ellie’s hands are clutching the sheets, knuckles blanched. “‘M so close.”
You don’t let up, and it only takes a few more moments of your careful ministrations before Ellie’s falling apart, a mess of jolting hips, strangled gasps, and a rush of wetness. You watch her come undone, wishing you could committ the sight to memory. After, you lick your fingers clean.
While Ellie’s spent and recovering from the height of her orgasm, you shuffle to the side of the bed to reach for your nightstand. You roll open the drawer, rummage around, and return to Ellie’s side with a tiny bottle of lube and your strap, the harness made of powder pink fabric. The brunette sighs contentedly when you lean over to kiss her, swiping her sweat-damp bangs away from her forehead. 
“You taste so good, did you know that?” You press another kiss to the corner of Ellie’s lips, feeling the way they twitch into a smile. 
“I really doubt it,” Ellie says.
You scoff. “Don’t doubt my taste.”
“Mm, okay. Fine. I believe you.”
Fighting your own smile, you move back to sit on your heels, cheeks heating when you notice Ellie’s eyes roaming over your naked body. 
“Need something?” 
Ellie nods, then sits up and pulls you in for another kiss, her hand on the back of your neck. “I want you to really fuck me now.” 
“Oh yeah?” You grin at her, your hands making their way to her tits and smoothing over her pebbled nipples. “Think you should learn some manners, Ellie. How about please?”
Her expression goes soft - eyes rounding, mouth pursing. 
“Please,” she says, and her voice is so sweet, it might rot your teeth. “Please fuck me.”
And who are you to deny her what she needs?
As it turns out, Ellie’s pussy was made to take strap. She’s leaned over, face down in one of your pillows, her ass propped up perfectly to give you access to her cunt. Still soaked from her last orgasm, she hardly needs any lube, the strap pushing into her all the way to the hilt without any resistance; she keens when you’re fully seated inside of her, a sound that makes your own pussy throb with need. Every noise she makes is pure heaven - you wish you could record them all, listen to them when you’re in bed at night with your hand between your thighs. 
“Fuuuuck,” Ellie cries out when you hit that sweet spot with the tip of the strap, her head shifting to lean on one side, allowing you to see the look on her face - the roll of her eyes, the way her lips part to let out each of her gasps and moans. 
“How’s that feel, princess?” You ask as you pound into her from behind; you admire the way her back arches deeper, like she’s encouraging you to fuck into her further and further. 
“S-so good,” Ellie stutters weakly. 
“Yeah? Doing so good for me, baby,” you pant. Every slam of your hips against Ellie’s ass makes her grunt, a pleased little sound, short and needy. 
That tiny grunt turns into an impatient whine when you pull out of her entirely, a lewd, wet noise accompanying the motion. 
“Why’d you stop?” Ellie asks, voice small. She cranes her neck to look back at you and the expression on her face is absolutely pathetic.
You give her ass a playful smack, admiring the way it recoils from the contact of your palm. “Want you to flip over. I need to see you come again, you looked so pretty the first time.” 
She does as instructed - she’s already so good at following directions, you’ve learned. When Ellie’s on her back, her face, neck, and chest tinged red with equal parts arousal and exertion, you lean in and whisper praises to her, lining the strap up to her entrance and pushing into her again. 
“Hold your legs up, sweetheart,” you instruct, pushing her thighs up until they’re folded against her body. She nods, panting, and lifts her hands up to hold her legs in place. You slip deeper into her like this; Ellie goes cross-eyed, lips pursed into a pretty “o” shape as you fuck her senseless. It doesn’t take much longer for her to get close again, and when her legs begin to shake with the effort of holding them up for you, you tell her to relax.
“Play with your clit, hm? I want you to come.” 
Ellie nods. “Y-yeah, I can do that. For you.”
“Just for me?” You grin.
“Mm, just for you.”
Her hand shakes as she brings it between her legs, drawing sloppy circles over her clit with her fingers. You keep fucking her, hips snapping restlessly, every lewd squelch of her cunt making you gush wetter and wetter. But as desperate as you are to come, you’re more focused on Ellie - the way she bites her lip, her entire body tense with her impending orgasm. She warns you before she finally tips over the edge: an endless chant of right there, I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come, oh my god…
You’re not sure how long you lie there on top of Ellie, still buried inside her, before her breathing finally rights itself again. You spend that time kissing all over her face and running your hands through her auburn hair, untangling a few knotted locks in the process. You’re both covered in a thin layer of sweat, bodies glistening, but neither of you seems to mind. Content to lie there together, you rest until Ellie pulls you in for a kiss - one that turns needy and sloppy not long after. 
“Can I taste you?” Ellie asks between kisses, her lips shiny with saliva. She says it with such hope, like she’s not sure what you’ll say. But you’re still drenched between your legs, inner thighs sticky with it. 
“There’s nothing I want more right now,” you confess. 
So Ellie finds a place between your legs, mouth latching to your clit like it’s muscle memory. You curl a fist into her hair and guide her every move, murmuring instructions, which she follows like the good girl she is. The night continues that way - all whispered pleas and tremoring orgasms, tangled limbs and slick-coated fingers, until the two of you finally doze off, wrapped in each other’s warmth.
And Ellie thinks she’s made a good decision, moving here. Trying something new.
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animentality · 15 hours
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sapphicjoy · 2 days
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flowersforvi · 2 days
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sub!ellie riding your strap, refusing to touch her until she makes herself cum ohhh my god she gets so whiney and desperate cause she can’t make herself cum the way you can:((
i love u anon. thank u for requesting this im gonna go insane.
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els loves riding you always, but she hates when you refuse to touch her until she cums by herself first. she has her face buried into your neck, arms wrapped around your waist, letting out the cutest muffled moans n whines.
poor girl can’t even control her own hips, she’s just moving them at a random pace, attempting to catch her clit on anything to ease the ache in her cunt.
she’s so frustrated. you haven’t touched her this entire time, and that’s all she wants right now. she doesn’t even care that she has the pleasure of riding your strap. she wants you to be in control of her body, and whatever happens to it in this moment.
“oh baby, i can’t— i really can’t do this anymore. just want you to touch me however you want.”
you look up at her with half lidded eyes, and without saying anything, she knows you won’t touch her. you told her you wouldn’t unless she came first.
“no, i told you to do something, didn’t i? are you gonna sit here n pout like a fuckin’ brat, or are you gonna make yourself cum?”
in response all she can do is tilt her head back, mouth opened slightly, letting out a small huff of disappointment, and get back to work.
ellie knew she wasn’t gonna cum tonight, not unless you touched her.
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sapphicbusstop · 1 day
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Alex Coal and Vivian Foxx scene
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nil-elk · 2 days
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You can't take my ass anywhere.
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