#Older Woman Younger Man Relationship | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

subbyprincessb · 5 months

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Sorry I forgot to reply, I was making myself cum to the thought of you 💕

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alexdesires · 30 days

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Seeing you cry or being sad just makes me want to pin you down and fuck you hard. Until your eyes roll up, and your tongue comes out, that's when I know I melted your brain, my little doll.

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kxsalt · 1 day

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“That’s my girl.” A figure of speech, a gesture of support.

“Thanks, dad~” A slip of the tongue, an innocent mistake.

Embarrassed by your faux pas, we laugh it off. It’s a running joke, now. It runs away with us. “Go get 'em, kiddo.” “I will, dad!” Neither of us are kidding. It feels too natural. I use my wisdom to help and care for you. You use your energy to inspire and charge me. It feels icky. Icky doesn’t feel bad.

You’re too nervous to take the next step. I take the lead: “Let dad take care of that.” “Here’s a cute gift for you.” “You can sit on my lap, it’s fine.” Your role is enthusiastic follower: “Thanks, dad!” “Dad, can we…?” “Daddy, I want…”

“Bedtime, kiddo. You had a big day.” You oblige. I follow you to your bedroom. You sit on your bed. I take the lead again.

A deep kiss, and a firm hand on your thigh. I can feel you push away from me. Such a big age gap, what will people think? I can feel you grind your pussy into my hand. We need this.

I grope your young body, so soft and pliant. Girls my age aren’t like that. I lick your sweet, bare pussy. Boys your age don’t do that.

A finger in your princess parts, then two. More kissing, with the tongue that calls me dad. We drop the act of being friends making a silly joke. We’re honest for once.

“…Daddy’s little girl...”

“…I wanna be a good kid…”

My thick cock pushes into your needy pussy. I can control myself, for now. You’re soaking wet, but still need to be stretched out. I’m experienced, I know when to be gentle. I know when to be rough, too. I slowly fuck you while I wait for my cue.

“I can take it, daddy~”

Now. I drive my cock deep inside of you and growl as I enjoy my little girl. Your inexperienced body doesn’t know restraint. Rubbing your clit as I fuck you into the mattress, your young pussy gets even tighter when you cum.

“Icky little girl, cumming on her dad’s cock.”

All you can do is beg and nod. I feel your nails bite my back and your breath touch my ear. We’ve waited to long for this, we enjoy every moment. Fucking my beautiful little girl, I cum deep in you.

Your head against my chest; listening to my beating heart. What will people say when they see us together? Who cares. I run my fingers through your hair, your hand rubs my cheek.

“That’s my girl.”

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kr-yoongi · 2 months

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Draw Merlin looking up challenge: FAILED

#drew that first one while watching the season finale of The Fall with Colin !!#watched that entire show just for him im crazy #loved the relationship between him and Gillian’s character though wish there was more of that because I do love a good cop romance !#can’t believe they gave me another older woman detective with the charming younger man detective again (mare of Easttown)#I didn’t realise I needed to see that again !!#anyway my bad #back to business #Merlin #Merlin Fanart #Colin Morgan #Colin Morgan Fanart #Digital Art #kr_yoongi #also forgive me I work full time and can’t draw when I like anymore so I’m rusty </3

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bebesophie · 7 days

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diejager · 1 month

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I saw something about Victorian COD so hear me out-

Victorian Price in the fanciest suit

I'm sorry but that man would be so hooooooooooot as a Victorian gentleman, it fits his vibe

p.s. Happy 2024!!!!!!!

I got to this 3 months later… Happy belated new year 😅

Cw: flirting? Price being a gentleman, older man/younger woman, established relationship, tell me if I missed any.

Your father’s business parties had always been boring, they were a chore for you to keep a perfect facade to the public, the frail yet strong lady of the house, donned in ridiculously frilly dresses and thighs corsets. Your mother had fussed over it your entire life, her rough fingers, brought from her commoner background, had made her harsher in every manner to keep her title, for you to keep yours as a noble born into a world of riches. But the upkeep of it was useless when you had no part in it, forced to play a part in something you had no right to be a part of.

Granted, you had your reservation, understanding that being on the same side as your father had it’s perks, the power his title - soon to be passed down to your older brother once your father passed - and his money. You didn’t necessarily depend on it wholly, you might live in his home, eat from his cooks and call for the maids and butlers he employed, but you had your studio away from home, somewhere in the city where you painted under natural light and sold portraits to people who paid you for a commission.

It wasn’t as grand as being a merchant, to sell the luxuries most nobles sought - gems, fabrics, gold and silver - but it built you connections, your work passed from mouth to ear, one noble at a time, and one town at a time. You had your clientele and your father had his, you had an image to keep for something you worked so hard for, but to invest an equal amount of face and finesse in a snobbish party was draining. Fortunately, a few of your father’s work affiliates were regular clients at your little studio, sending letters to you months in advance to organise dates for you to paint them, it varied between one and a few months.

Your favourite was a British merchant company, lead by one bear of a man that you knew well, managed by three - a kind-hearted brit with beautiful skin, a boisterous Scot with his unusual haircut, and a broad and rugged man who hid his identity under a fearsome mask - other you were well-acquainted with and advised by a strong headed woman too advanced for your era. John Price was his name, a man a decade older than you, but treated you kinder than any man had before him, a gentleman in a beautiful suit and slacks, a red shirt and waxed shoes. He - coincidentally - matched your attire, your frilly, red chemise with a high and bowed collar, the sleeves long and rumpled in waves of red silk, waist high pants that hugged your body the same way your mother’s corset hugged her form and slick shoes that shone under the high chandeliers.

“You seem bored, love,” his soft and baritone voice never failed to make you shudder, his hand on your back a reminder than he was with you.

He was always the gentleman, a man who worked his way to nobility, gaining a title and land through blood, sweat and tears. He was known for his trades, selling and shipping a large variety of items that some considered exotic simply because nobles hated interacting with foreigners, a kind of bred racism and xenophobia through generations to fear any uprising from their colonies and other countries. He was as broad as his company was known, every core member of it respected for climbing the echelon of society through hard work. Some purebred nobles might hate him for taking a title without being born into it, but none could object his craft, like an artist couldn’t do hate their canvas.

“There isn’t much to do, is there, John?” You nodded towards your father, knowing that he was observant enough to see the slightest of movement, “My father is… he loves bathing in luxury, in the popularity his name brings.”

He hummed, a low rumble from his throat, his eyes narrowed almost threateningly, but you knew the amused gleam in his eyes. You had years to get to know him, once an occasional client - a man who stumbled into your studio wanting to let a newly risen artist a chance to paint him, admiring your work for the smooth and confident strokes - who brought his art trade to you, now a trusted friend, someone you were blasphemously closed too for someone your age.

Your friendship hadn’t lasted long, the constant coaching from Kyle and Johnny, the silent push from Simon and the proud smile from Kate had both of you meeting halfway, throwing you into his open arms and fooling around at the back of your studio until John could take you away to marry.Eloping and always sounded interesting, you weren’t needed at home, your father had an heir and your mother had your younger sister to worry about.

“He flaunts it foolishly, yes,” he agreed, raising the cup to his lips, tipping it until the champagne flowed down the glass rim, “But we have a contract, one I intend to uphold until he complete his end of it. And I met you.”

He turned to you, a tender smile hidden under his beard, his stormy blues softening as he peered down at you, adoration gleaming in his eyes. You wished you could kiss him, to grip him by the collar and pull him down to press your lips against his course ones, to kiss him deeply and show him the love you felt for him.

“I would, love, but we’re in public,” had you spoken out loud? It seemed you did if John answered you, his chuckles shaking his shoulders, “Would you come home with me once I’ve finished my business?”

“Of course, John.”

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sparklyflowernight · 24 days

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