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Old 10-04-2014, 08:55 AM   #18
Charmingbutch21
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Penmarked Femme View Post
So I love that this thread is here, wanna follow it down my own spool a bit. It had been suggested that femme butch erotica from the perspective is not only refreshing but also very encouraging. So here is my addition.

There is just something about a slow dance with a butch that makes me melt and burn in equal measure. Recently spent all night dancing with a friend butch that can't be anything more. But her hands that night told me a different story.

Her frame was iron clad and her hand pulled me in and gripped my waist and lower back like a vice. The heat coming off her torso was like an anatomical furnace and pressed against mine there was nary a hint of soft reflective light between our bodies. Feeling the dip and sway of her rhythm left me no choice and I fell towards her with abandon and let my soft underside uncurl against her like a morning glory in the glow of the sun. And there was no question in that she would hold me the best she could, while she had me. And the fantasy was already in my mind, an unobtrusive exit from the dance if not the blaring music. A quick assent to the upper floor like two high school kids, stealing into an empty gym and finally being able to touch one another.

It was inconceivable to me that she could not feel my heart beating through my rib cadge as hers and mine were currently like puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together. It was all I could do not stretch my neck to place my cheek against hers and dream that she would slide her mouth over mine. It was already making me shudder looking at the small black chrome ball on the centre of her tongue and fantasize about how it would feel against my clit.

This boi that wasn't mine was sweeping my longing inside me to the surface. This was a boi that the hard shell of my imagination could hold for the night and I hoped she knew it. This was a boi that I could feel with wishful thinking, holding me vice like all over my body. If she would only ask for my consent.

The things I would let her do, the things I would ask her to do. If I closed my eyes I could feel my wrists in her unyielding grasp held tightly behind my back. Restraining me roughly so she could plant kisses and small darts of her tongue following the neck line of my black dress. I would not be able to suppress a pant and a moan as she circled slowly with the tip of her tongue on my sternum, making my nipples tense and ache in response.

I grew breathless thinking about us in that dark room, illuminated only from the streetlight that had the luck to escape the dark trees. I could feel those butch hands one in my hair with a forearm pinning me to the wall, and the other snaking up my thigh, her finger drawing mercilessly over my opening, on top my red lacy underwear. It was her pleasure to make me wait and wait all the while telling me, whispering in my ear,

"Your body is mine and I am going to fuck it how I like."

My long neglected desires would run down my leg and she would plunge her hand into me making me cry out and buck against her aggressive embrace. She would smile knowing how she owned me in this moment. Feeling my pussy overflow and my legs shuddering. Reaching under my dress with both hands her eyes were hard succeeding even to penetrate me with a look. One long, panting animistic gaze of need before whipping the underwear down my legs and over my heels.

Leaving me open and exposed under the black layer of crinoline she would stand again reasserting her will. She pinched both my swollen nipples making my jump with a sharp intake of breath, and cry out as she pulled down the bra and bit hard one and then the other, going back and fourth until my hips had to rock against her. Rock and grind and push against the long hard form of her cock.

"Is this what you want you dirty slut?" She asked as she pushed it against my cunt. My breathless answer to moan again and encircle her neck with my arms.

"I said, is this what you want my dirty girl, hun princess is this what you want, say it."

"Yes"

"Yes what?" She plunged in with her hand again.

"Yes I want your cock. Yes, please yes."

Picking me up and slamming me against the wall my legs were around her waist and she slipped herself inside. Pounding a rhythmic refrain into my body until I could feel my back arching, the scream building in my throat muffled, her lips and teeth sucking and biting mine. Her breath my breath, her waves my waves, pulsing into each other until the hot, rough, climbing sensation. She pushed as deep as it could and rode me until my organism burst. And them her arms would be around me, her kisses soft, her hands like gentle vices again and in that same slight illumination she would be mine.
Thank you for posting this! I'm fascinated by the femme voice in erotica. It truly makes me believe that 'the dance' exists. I'm looking forward to reading more from you
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