#the bisexuals are taking over | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fr3aklike-me · 2 years

Text

best friends try clothes on for each other, right? ━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

contains: teasing, possessive talk, dubious consent, breeding, mentions of spanking on different parts, reader is referred to as having "breasts," "pussy," "clit"

let’s say that you’re my best friend – sweet, innocent, cute and unsuspecting. when you have a date you’re excited for coming up, you confide in me how badly you need to get laid, not even realizing how I clench at the idea of taking care of you when you’re obviously so needy and desperate to have someone’s hands on you. of course, being the devoted friend I am, I agree to go shopping with you so you can model different outfits you’re considering for the date – specifically one that will guarantee a good fuck in store for you. almost like torture, I sit outside the changing rooms, as you stride out with outfit after outfit – a series of miniskirts that hug you just right, tight tops that leave your nipples poking out, dresses so tight that I know it’d be so easy for me to press you against a wall, face pressed to the mirror, and slide my fingers deep in you. you gently whine that I should stay in the room with you – for practical reasons, of course, like so I can help you zip up dresses and so you avoid the shyness of emerging from the changing rooms in front of other people waiting outside them. it makes sense, and even though I know it’s only going to leave me with more thoughts, I go in, the dutiful friend I am. you go through a few more outfits, my eyes averting whenever you change then being requested by you to take in the entirety of each and every outfit. I don’t think you realize how much it’s impacting me to see you like this – possessive and jealous that these outfits will be for someone else to fuck you with, yet admiring and stunned from how good you look.

you try on a tight dress, lush red, and it squeezes around your tits and stretches right below your ass. you spread your arms out, doing a little twirl, and I smile approvingly. with a pout, you flatten your palms along it and say, “I’m just worried. Like, what if I bend over, and they see my panties? It’ll spoil the surprise. I’m wearing these really pretty lace ones that night, and I only want them seeing them when we have sex.”

after a few more moments of pondering, checking yourself out in the mirror, my eyes lingering on every inch of your body, feeling nearly ravenous in my need to drag you onto my lap and fingerfuck you, you turn to me. “This might sound weird, but if you’re comfortable, can I show you, and you tell me if you can see my panties?”

I laugh at first, thinking you’re joking, but in a few moments, I see that you’re the picture of seriousness. I’m throbbing at this point, but I nod, clearing my throat, hoping you don’t notice how I shift in my seat. you turn around, and I get the perfect view of your ass, that dress wrapped and tightened around it so well that I chew on my lip from behind. you brace two hands on the mirror in front of you, and bend low, sticking your ass out for me so I can inspect the results. slowly, the material shifts up, revealing a lace thong underneath, perfectly slid in between your two ass cheeks, where the dress sits halfway up.

after a long, quiet pause, you prompt, “Well?” I can hear how your tone has gotten quieter, more meek, and I glance at the mirror to find you staring hard at the ground.

“Um, it shows a bit. Which is fine, unless you really wanted those panties to be a surprise in the bedroom.”

“I do,” you softly whine, sighing gently, “and I like this dress so much.” you meet my gaze in the mirror, and immediately burst into laughter. “Look at you, you’re flushed red. C’mon, don’t friends play dress up?” with this statement, you shake your butt teasingly, giggling when I look away. you probably don’t even realize all the ways I’m thinking of taking you right now – dragging you onto my lap and slapping your pussy gently for being such a tease, holding your hips in the position you’re in and sliding my cock inside, making you watch yourself in the mirror. “How do you think I look, though?”

I cleared my throat. “You look good.”

you flip around, facing me. you purse your lips together, taking in my flushed face, and I wonder if you can read the room. apparently not, because your next words are, “I also really like how my cleavage looks in this. Like, if I bend over, you can see…” you complete the sentiment by lowering yourself, showing me how the dress gives the perfect view of the curve of your breasts. this really was fucking torture. especially when you stand up, and grope your own tits, squeezing them gently, shaking them around. “I just love how these look in this dress.” you give them one last squeeze, sighing gently as your eyes flutter close. “Sorry, I forgot how sensitive they are.”

at this point, my suspicions are rising. friends or not, you had never gone to lengths this great to emphasize how good an outfit was. “What the fuck are you doing?”

your hands drop from your chest. “What?”

“This is clearly not just about wanting to show me an outfit.”

you brace your hands on your hips, and even through the sexual frustration, I snort fondly. “Yes, it is.” you slowly walk closer to me, and with myself still seated, my eyes are directly in line with your breasts. I peer up to watch you adjusting the straps, until they slip off. “And see how easily it can come off?”

“Perfect for your date.”

“Mhm, so you see, it’s the perfect dress to get fucked in.” you stare down at me coyly, an eyebrow raised in question, even though your fingers are fumbling with the edge of the dress in shyness.

I slip a hand under your thigh, raising your leg so that it’s propped over my shoulder, dangling, as you press your hands against the wall to keep your balance. “So, if you had the chance to get fucked in it now, how would you feel about that?”

you slip your leg off, smile knowingly. “I mean, I think I’d like it, but don’t you have to even check if I’m wet?” you turn back around, bending over, spreading your legs wide enough that this time, I can see your glistening cunt, leaking onto your pretty thong, smeared around your inner thighs. “See, you can only fuck me in it if I’m really, really wet.” with this, you wiggle your butt again, giggling when my jaw clenches, eyes trained on you. “Otherwise, maybe I’ll just wait for my date – oh, fuck.”

your teasing dissolves into a long moan as I move to the edge of my seat, grabbing your hips and pushing your cunt onto my face, my tongue immediately diving in, licking around your flimsy thong. your breathing shudders as I flatten my tongue and drag it along the length of your slippery cunt, gathering the wetness into my mouth and finally fucking getting a taste of you. I can’t get enough of it, licking and licking around the thin fabric, the tip of my tongue softly toying with your pussy lips, swollen and soaked with the desire to be touched. I suck on your lips, nearly groaning at how good it feels to finally have you like this in my mouth. your hips rut, pussy rubbing all over my face as you brace your head on the wall, breaths fogging the mirror. I grab your ass, keeping you still as my fingers drag away the wet, useless piece of fabric, tongue flicking along your pussy, dragging across your folds.

“Ugh, please suck my clit,” you whisper.

“After that show you put on for me? I ought to spank you for that, princess.”

you keep quiet for a few moments, small, gentle whimpers leaving as I press light, soft kisses along your entire pussy, my lips reverent for you. “You can, you know.”

“With all these people to hear? I don’t think so, baby.”

you huff in frustration, groaning, “Please, please at least suck my – hmph, fuck.”

I curl my tongue along your throbbing, stiff clit, the tip stroking it over and over again, pausing to flick it side to side until you’re clamping a hand over your mouth. I dig my fingers into your ass, finally squeezing it in that dress just as I had fantasized, squeezing and groping it, spreading you further so that my lips can round on your clit and suck as hard as I can, until your squeals are obvious even from behind your hand.

“Please, please, I need you inside me.”

that was enough for me. I drag you onto my lap, my arms holding you tight, keeping you in place, your cunt right on my bulge. I raise my hips up, rubbing the curve of my dick along your wet, soft pussy through the fabric, your juices leaking through as you grind, fingers digging into my back, whining into my neck, “Stop teasing me, fuck.”

“Look who’s talking,” I groaned, gripping your ass to drag you up and down my bulge, the shape of it pressed right to your bare cunt. you fist your fingers in my shirt, shuddering and moaning when I grab your waist to help you grind particularly hard down. “Using those pretty outfits just to get me to fuck you. You better not go on that fucking date, understood?”

you nod into my neck, sucking on my skin in order to keep your noises quiet, my own breath hitching at the contact. “I won’t, all yours, all for you.”

I finally unbuckle my pants, rubbing my dick along your slippery cunt, slapping it on your clit to watch you squirm and gasp. finally, when you’re tugging on my shirt and biting my neck in concentration to not make noise, I nudge my cock into your pretty hole, just rubbing the head along your walls. when you begin grinding down, moaning and tugging on my hair in frustration, I slip all the way in, pressing my mouth to yours to keep the two of us quiet. your tongue eagerly meets mine, and we kiss slowly, gently, as you sit there, my cock tight and snug in your pussy. with your mouth still moving against mine, I test out a slow thrust, my hands groping at your ass. you whimper into my mouth, yanking my hair once again, and in a few more thrusts, I’m gently bouncing you in my lap, my cock slipping in and out of you, the most wet, obscene noises echoing in the changing room as your pussy tightens around me.

you move your hips against me, matching my pace as you suck on my tongue to keep quiet, ass smacking against my thighs. your breathing is heavy, tongue hanging out of your mouth as you whimper softly. you tug on my hair again, pressing your forehead to mine. “I’m getting close. Please come inside me, I need to be filled up with you.”

I nearly moan out loud at your words, pressing my face to your neck as I start thrusting harder. “You want to get filled with my load?”

“Please,” you whisper, bouncing on my cock faster. you shove the dress down so that your breasts are out, and I immediately take a nipple into my mouth, sucking on it as your fingers curl into my hair, mouth pressed to my head as you gasp when my thumb presses to your clit, rubbing fast circles into the sweet bud. “I need you to make me yours, show everyone who I belong to. Fill me up, please, I need it.”

words become impossible as I move my hips as quickly as I can, my thumb rubbing and rubbing your clit, taking turns on kissing and sucking your pretty nipples. my other hand grips your cute ass, encouraging you to ride me as fast as you can. when your hips lose their steady pace, messily moving with no direction, I know you’ve reached that point, and I whisper in your ear, “Let me breed my pretty girl.”

you shake, pulsing all around my cock, sucking furiously on my neck as I snap my hips up over and over, fucking you through your orgasm as you squeeze onto my cock, enouraging me to finally come, my sticky come bursting inside your hole, finally filling you up with a warm, thick load as I continue pounding into you until every drop is tucked deep inside.

you lay limp against me, breathing heavily, sweat shining across your forehead. I lean against the wall, swallowing hard as I register what just happened. I press a soft kiss to your forehead, and you lean back to smile at me, whispering with a giggle, “Just as I planned.”

#fr3aklike-me #idek what this is #I just let the h-word take over my soul LMAO #nsft #nsft story #nsft imagine #nsft text #nsft scenario #nsft long text #nsft storytime #nsft long story #lesbian nsft #wlw nsft #nblw nsft #sapphic nsft #bisexual nsft #queer nsft

3K notes · View notes

fayevalcntine · 9 months

Text

Positioning Louis as the "Edwardian wife who becomes trapped by her husband" in a literal sense does no justice to analyzing his actual place and role as a Black man in his society and in his relationship with Lestat. Any interpretation or analysis you do of him when it comes to their relationship cannot be stripped of the racial aspect because it's constantly there. Texts analyzing Edwardian wives (and particularly ones this fandom loves to bring up) typically were white and the dissection of their place in societal rules are always viewed from the aspect of gender that is within these texts only allowed to white women, but never to Black men or even Black women. And gender and race become inseparable when you discuss the latter, no matter how people may view it.

This is why I can't take this approach to analyzing Louis' story seriously because if you don't consider the racial aspect in his relationship even to himself and his sexuality, what's the point? You're still centering the standards that were more placed upon white male/female couples than you're willing to look into the unique structure of Black families, religion, their view of homosexuality and how that sooner heavily influences Louis than the family's "need" for him to be sold off to an Edwardian husband. Even in Louis' own story, him and Claudia being Black is more centered on than any demeaning "housewife" comment he tries to go against from Claudia's perspective. She makes that comment once, whereas we have at least two episodes from Louis' perspective that have very blatant hints and showings of the racism he still suffers from under the Jim Crow era and how it affects his self-worth as well as his relationship with Lestat who doesn't seem to take into consideration how any of the blatant racial aggressions and objections still affect Louis and what he considers to be important to achieve in his own life.

Then there's also the pointed topic of Louis' position as a Black man who is a pimp to the Black women he has as sex workers, as well as how his position as a Black father affects Claudia, another Black girl. If you insist on Louis being centered as this "Edwardian white wife" who is confined by his implicit gender in his marriage, where does that leave Claudia and the blatant misogyny and disrespect she gets from both him and Lestat? Lestat who is her white father abuses her. Positioning Louis within the strict confines of "being her mother" doesn't do her any favors because he didn't hesitate to choke her when he was deeply emotionally distressed, nor does it make him look any better when he's fine with chopping up her diaries and then delivering them on a silver platter so that Daniel, another white man, can read and dissect. Even if he does this under the sole pretense of "doing right by her", how does it in any way help when he also can't face up to his failures towards her?