Sapphic Nsft - Tumblr Posts - Page 3

Hot as fuck to try and sass and protest, only for your owner to respond like you’re just barking and talking about how cute it is, acting like they can’t understand what you’re saying

Need dominant lesbian women to laugh at what a pathetic slut I can be for them. They just make demands of me and laugh to each other saying "Look what I got her to do, what a slut." 😵‍💫❤️

Pff obviously I'm not into cnc! I just yearn for a woman to use my body purely for her pleasure as I beg her not to as tears drop from my eyes but she just shushes me and tells me it's okay and to just let it happen~

Y'all, I'd do just about anything to have a pretty girl sit on my lap and have her ramble about any topic she wants, but the catch is that I'm playing with her pussy while she goes on and on

Just to hear her start off all confident and passionate, only to hear her start to ramble... and then catch her breathing slowly and maintain her thoughts

God, WOMEN😍😍😍😍

Untitled, by Ceres

Men and minors DNI, thanks.

I need someone to rip through me. I want to be torn into a pile of trembling ribbons, saturated by the well springing from what remains of my center. It has been too long since I felt like prey, not for entertainment or satisfaction, but purely for the need, the craving, the drive for nourishment. For hate.

By the goddesses, I want you to hate me.

And when you've caught me - as though it was enough of a struggle to say you "caught" anything - make me your meal. Shove that hate wherever it suits you, and I'll lay still and dead, just the way you like. Take what you want, and I won't make a sound. I promise.

Eat the dark meat and leave the rest to rot.

It's 4/20 and I just want to smoke with you and see how long we can resist each other. I wanna smoke a blunt and sit just a little too close together, thighs brushing against each other, hands absentmindedly wandering around each other's waists and hips... I want that rush that comes when your head is all fuzzy and suddenly everything melts together, lips tingling on each other in electric cascades, my arms wrapped around your neck as I sit in your lap and grind your thigh helplessly.

I want to feel the shiver that runs through you when I whisper in your ear, begging to taste you, begging for permission to make you come on my mouth. Anything, anything, just don't let the heat stop building. My face is already so red from being this high and I'm so drunk on you, blushing so hard it looks like I might pass out, and you're twitching beneath my touch, doing your best to keep your composure and keep up the act that you're any less lost in this than I am.

I want to make the world disappear in a puff of smoke and I want to replace it with you.

I want my exhibitionism taken literally. I want my nude body to be an exhibition in some high concept women-only museum where I'm just another object to admire. Or maybe I'm a hands-on piece and passerby are encouraged to treat me however they please ~

Ugh I get so wet thinking of how many hands might be on me, smiling faces waiting in line, femmes and butches and everyone in between standing on their toes to look over the crowd and see what the commotion is about, and it's me, my face buried in someone's crotch, my legs clenched tight around someone's hand, dripping all over the floor, every part of me being used for someone's pleasure...

And then I think of you. Sitting patiently behind everyone, waiting calmly for the crowd to die down. Like an artist admiring her own work. I think about the hunger in your eyes and the fear in my own, knowing just how badly you're going to ruin me after seeing how much I liked all those strangers.

Getting myself a "Nevertheless, she persisted" pillow for my couch because I managed to survive being horny at work for another day.

I just want a butch's hands around my neck. Is that so much to ask for?

Okay, maybe I want a little more than that. Maybe I want them to grab my wrists with one hand and pin them over my head and tease me til I cry with the other. Maybe, just maybe, I need them to make me beg, beg for them to hurt me, for them to use me. It could be that I won't feel complete until I'm a sobbing dripping mess, soaking through the bedsheets and drenched in sweat. Maybe maybe maybe...

Being a switch is crazy because some days I'm the most helpless little thing and some days, well...

I want her in my lap, grinding on the bulge in my pants, and I want to kiss her forcefully while she's doing it so that my little upward thrusts end in her moaning into my mouth. I want to see tears streaking down her face as she begs for me to abuse her holes. I want her on her knees and I want to smack her pretty little face with my strap and watch her struggle, fruitlessly, to get it into her mouth.

Fuck, I need to eat her until she's sobbing. I'm not going to feel sane until I've got her clit dancing on my tongue while my fingers do that little pitter-patter waltz on her favorite spot. I want to eat her ass so deep my nose is dipping into her pussy, not seeing but feeling her back arch beneath me, my hands gripping her thighs so hard it leaves bruises.

I'm losing it thinking about how bad I want to feel her squirt against me, my hips rocking into her again, and again, and again as her voice replies with that toe-curling "ah-ah-ah" I adore so much. I want her twitching and clenching until she can hardly breathe.

I want to make her beg for me to stop, only so that I can push further and further, using every part of her body until she's got nothing left to give. I want to ruin her for everyone else.

Maybe I'm telling on myself when I say this but there is no collection of sounds more beautiful than sitting on a dyke's face. Like. Idk how to even convey how enamored I am with these sounds I can't even put to paper, the slurping and licking and gasping between deep, shuddering breaths. Especially if she's touching herself at the same time like omg??? Who made this so good????

Thinking about the subtle harmony of pillows scrunching as I press her into them. How delicate her pretty face is as I drag myself across. I can barely contain myself thinking about those little moans between my thighs, nearly stifled by the headboard's rocking as I'm holding onto it for dear life, shaking like an earthquake on her mouth, drenching her face, trying my hardest not to scream over her because I could not bear to miss a single noise she makes. By all the goddesses who have ever walked this earth, you cannot find a symphony more captivating than those precious noises she makes when our thighs clench in synch, moans in matched tempo, orgasm erupting through both of us like our own personal cataclysm.

Seeing so many people talk about having *their butch* and I'm not gonna lie, I'm just thinking "when will it be my time pls pls pls" like... I will serve myself on a silver platter, I will pack myself into a pretty little box, I will get Doordash to deliver me to your porch please 🥺

I just want my throat crammed full and my body to be broken it's really not a big ask 🖤

bending over in front of open windows around the house bc i know my pretty panties stretch so nicely for the perv across the street xox

an abusive and possessive guy friend that doesn’t take no for an answer, or understand personal space, pretty please

it could start off with us meeting online. him already knowing from my profile that i’m a lesbian, so we’d fall into a comfortable routine as friends. we’d text non-stop, facetime all through the night, and give each other advice. it would feel like i’m i’d finally found a male figure in my life that i can trust to be myself around authentically. i’d always feel so safe around him. and he would feel the same, but then he’s start to vie my comfort differently...

the morning and goodnight text would start to become required no matter what I had going on personally. if i’d ‘ignore his calls’ he’d assume i’m trying to cut him off, and start to become highly manipulative. even his gaze would linger too long on my chest whenever i’d forget to wear a bra on cam.

our time together would become strained…maybe I’d call it out at first. making jokes that suddenly turn into real accusations. but they wouldn’t be ‘accusations’ now would they? because, he’d pull back. get into my good graces, plan to finally meet up and it would suddenly all become so clear.

holding onto me during our day time “friend-dates.” offering to drive me around just so he’d always know where i was and when. and finally, on one faithful night out when I was getting a bit too close to another girl…he’d demand my full attention. making up a reason for us to leave and for me to watch over him through the night. swearing that he just needed me there for him.

but as soon as night fell, he’d move to execute a way to completely nullify my protest. something that would leave me with a piece of him…

when your friends constantly try to get you to break up bc they see the bruises, and how you flinch when they stroke your hair, or how your clothes have gotten shorter since dating them. but you swear with all of your being that you’ve never felt happier. and mean it <3

whenever a hard limit slowly turns into a soft limit, i feel like i should be given head pats for succumbing to corruption and a life with more pleasure ^^

wanna put on some pretty lingerie and sit on your lap, watch you squirm as i tell you to not touch and kiss up your neck and jaw, dragging my nails up and down your body so gently. i want to see you get desperate and whine, and then grab your hands and guide them up to my chest, whisper that you’ve been so good, hm? and bring one of your hands down to let you feel how wet i am for you. i’ll let you have your way with me then, and ravish me completely for being so good.

i’m drinking and i think the perfect thing to pair with it would be a groomer in my messages, asking pervy questions while i mindlessly sip on my cocktail.

(it takes one cocktail to get me my preferred level of drunk and my dm/asks is open)

the depravity in my brain reaches a new level when all i can think about is being owned my an older couple…

it starting off as an unconventional friendship with the wife. she just thought i looked so cute being the counter at the cafe. and the way my features would scrunch up, how i bit my lip and stepped back to hold my chest whenever i got flustered with the amount of orders. it was just all too sweet and innocent…

so of course she started to come by more often. tipping more then needed, and staying behind for chats. it would became so in-betted in my everyday routine that I’d start to crave it. my days just weren’t complete if I didn’t work a shift to see my favorite regular.

eventually all our chatting would lead to mindless flirting. I mean, how could I not when such a friendly smile was thrown my way by such a stunning older woman. older woman were already my weakness, and you’d notice. you’d catch how I’d pay more attention to the milf while she ordered for her family. Or how my eyes would linger a bit lower when an older woman left. really, I was just making it too easy. and you were just too perfect to ignore.

so, why would I ever turn you down when you invited me over for one of those family dinners you’d spoken about. more time with my favorite regular…no, somehow you’d claimed your spot as my favorite person without me even noticing it. even when I had found myself ignoring the second car in the driveway, only focusing on how I’d get to see you…even then I hadn’t really just how control you had over me.

I just followed blindly, wholeheartedly, submissively into your dining room. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but as conversation flowed, I found myself reaching for my flute that seems to never run low. it was hard to even distinguish how far I had gone, when you were so receptive and lively in the conversation. it is just…i can’t think about anything but you. should that have been my sign to leave? or should it have been when I felt hands massaging my back, and never questioned to look up because your eyes had me.

i didn’t think about how i didn’t even get a hello out, but this man—i’d be damn to ask if he’s your husband. i wouldn’t want to know that. so I just nodded along to introductions. I am only focused on you and how your legs revealed from the slit of your ‘casual dress’ as you got up from your chair. I only focused on the feels of your hands on my skin as you guided my unstable legs up your stairs and towards your bedroom. Nevermind the footsteps behind us…all I could see was you…