she/her 20 lesbian whitemen and minors dni.requests open
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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Let's do this.
TOMB RAIDER: THE LEGEND OF LARA CROFT (2024)
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a older woman dominating a younger woman is hot but what about younger woman dominating a older woman âŚ.
#tay's thoughts#i was thinking about alcina and miranda yes#mother miranda#lady dimitrescu#resident evil village#resident evil
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WHAT THE FUCK IS THE CONTEXT BEHIND THE FIRST GIF
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pissed the fuck off bc my fyp on here is full of straight shit from marvel or other shit i donât read or am interested in.
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finger
kate laswell x f!reader | ~3.6k words tags: alcohol, age gap (Kate is in her late 40s, Reader is in her 30s), cunnilingus, fingering, slight mommy kink, x2 'good girls', x1 'brat', porn with a dash of plot a/n: kate isn't married in this. reader has hair long enough for kate to grab. happy pride.
Forty swipes deep into dating app hell and down to the dregs of a beer, the bartender exchanges your glass for a tumbler. Face smushed into a palm, you stare incredulously at the liquor. You definitely didnât order whiskey. Definitely canât afford it. Even at a dive like this, your budget demands whateverâs on special, tonight being Rainier.
Youâre quick to correct the bartender. No way youâre overdrafting again. âHeyâI didnât order this.â
A knowing smile curves his mouth, and he jerks his head over a shoulder. âNo, but she did.â
Itâs a surprise your neck doesnât snap when you look and a second that your jaw doesnât hit the counter on its way to the floor. The she in question sits at the corner with her arm draped over the back of another stool. Older than you, maybe by a decade. She looks like a suit or off-duty fed, with a dress shirt undone to the top of her sternum, a blazer draped over her seat, and sandy hair pulled into a bun. Your eyes linger on the triangle of skin below her neck, and heat rushes up your neck when they pan to her face.
Though the color is difficult to discern in the dim light, theyâre half-lidded and fixed to you over the rim of her glass. She taps the top of the empty seat beside herâas if the free drink wasn't a clear enough invitation.
Not your usual type, but a drink is a drink. Itâs polite to respond.
Your thumb swipes the app shut, and you pocket your phone, scooting off your stool on an invisible leash. A warm ball of excitement tugging you across the sticky floor, slowing time in your head. You ferry the whiskey like itâs some grand gift, desperately not wanting to spill a drop and make a fool of yourself in front of whoever the hell this woman is.
Her eyes drop, appraising you on the approach. You think you might be buzzing as loud as the lights.Â
âHi,â you pass behind as her arm lifts off the stool, allowing you to sidle into the gap between and hoist yourself up. You set the whiskey on a coaster and tap it with a finger. âThanks for the drink.â
âHope neatâs alright.â She replies, head tilting slightly, body turning angling toward you. âBad day?â
âBad night,â you correct sheepishly. âI, uh, had a date but they canceled at the last second.â
Her tongue clicks, setting her glass down to undo the cuff buttons of her sleeves. âThatâs bad manners. Their loss, though. Youâre a knockout.â
The way she says it so casually, oozing confidence you only dream of, momentarily stuns you. Youâve been called âcuteâ and âprettyâ, butâYour brain short circuits at the sight of her deftly rolling her sleeves. Slight tan, a dusting of freckles, and a couple of interesting scars. Your eyes flick to hers, an amused smile telling you sheâs caught you ogling for the second time.
âThanks. Thatâs kind of you to say.â you finally reply, taking a sip of the whiskey in a move you hope exudes poise.
She tucks the fabric to one elbow and starts the other. âIt looked like you could use something stronger. Thought a finger or two would help.â
The whiskey nearly shoots out of your nose, but you swallow after an embarrassing choke.
She merely chuckles and extends a hand to pat your back gently. âOf bourbon, that is.â
âY-Yeah, no, I know,â you sputter and pluck a cocktail napkin from a stack, wiping your mouth and praying for a spontaneous, you-sized sinkhole to open beneath your seat.
âIâm Kate.â She rubs a slow circle near the top of your spine, then flattens her hand to rest her thumb on the nape of your neck. It brushes over the skin once when you give her your name. She repeats it, lifting her glass. âIâll take their place for the night, unless you object?â
The assertiveness is a stark contrast to your fumbling and the coy indecisiveness of women you typically attract. The question hangs off her tongue, dangling like a worm on a hook. She wants you to bite, you feel it in the heat of her gaze, and let her in. She must be a fed with a focus like that; no way sheâs corporate. Youâve lived in the DMV long enough to spot them. Canât throw a rock without hitting one, anyway.Â
You smile, feeling the warmth of Kateâs palm through your shirt. âIâd like that.âÂ
âYeah? Good.â She sips, shifting further until her knee skims the outside of your thigh. âTell me about yourself, kid.â
That does something for you, and you file it away for later. You mirror Kateâs posture, turning so your knees interlace. You know how intimate this must look to the handful of other patrons, to the bartender, as if youâre already a couple. Yet it feels natural, like youâre supposed to meld into the complete stranger because she bought you a drink. A breath slips out when her hand leaves your back, the angle too far to be comfortable, and drops to your kneecap. Itâs like a game of chicken, all these small touches, and you kind of want to lose.
You prattle off the basics. How you moved to D.C. two years ago for work, how the cityâs grown on you, and on a tangent, that youâre actually pretty lonely. It spills out of you freely, unable to look away from the steel blues seemingly hanging off every word. Itâs the most attention youâve received outside of work in a long time. Itâs that and the whiskey, must be, why the butterflies in your stomach migrate to your chest, evolving into the thrum of a birdâs wings.Â
To your quiet delight, her attention isnât the only thing she gives youâitâs her interest. She hums and affirms. She asks questions. Digs into the meat of the story you spout off about your shitty landlord. And she squeezes your knee when you share how you spent the last holiday alone in the city. You try to turn it around once or twice, though you abandon that line of questioning after she tells you sheâs a âcontractorâ.
Before you know it, youâre finished with a second whiskey and incredibly warm and wanting.
Kate hits you with the Letâs get out of here and loops an arm around your waist outside the bar. In the cab, you let her slide her hand up your leg, stopping in time to eat up your pathetic whine with a languid kiss. Though she pays the fare, you leave a big tipâan apology for the makeout he couldnâtâve missed through the rearview.
You float through the hotel lobby in a haze of alcohol and lust, barely appreciating the swankiness of the place. Whatever âcontractorâ really means, it pays well. She practically lassoes you into the elevator with one arm, her suit jacket draped over the other.Â
âYou can back out anytime.â She says, punching the button for her floor. âNo hurt feelings.â
The blood in your veins itches with need as you grab her waist and haul her closer. You unabashedly stare, glossy-eyed. This woman, whoâs been nothing but kind and attentive and generousâyou want to return the favor. Tenfold. Something about her draws it out. âI donât want to,â You whisper, the elevator softly dinging with each passing floor. âI want more.â
She smiles, hand fitting over the nape of your neck again like it belongs there, and reels you in for another kiss. It leaves you gasping when the lift stops.
Her room is a suite, another token of her apparent success. The best place youâve ever stayed at came with a coffee maker. There isnât much of a chance to admire it, though, since she plants you on the wall the moment the door clicks, latching it shut with her free hand. Itâs a long, heated stumble further into the room, most of your clothes coming off with each step. It doesnât hit you until she holds you at armâs length to sit on the edge of her bed. She smirks up at you, tugging on the waistband of your underwear. Not to take them off but as direction.
You kneel between her open legs without a second thought.
âYou still want more?â
Hours earlier, when your date texted a poor excuse to cancel, you didnât think this was where the night would go. The weight of Kateâs gaze is heavy, almost as intoxicating as the whiskey lingering on your tongue. The anticipation is electric, and the view isâŚWell, you could get used to sitting on your knees if itâs her holding the reins.
You lay your hands on her thighs and feel the muscles beneath her pants shift. Itâs heady, knowing someone this composed and enigmatic wants you, too.
âYes.â You finally manage, hands sliding up to unbutton her fly and curling over the band to tug them down along with her underwear. Above, Kate chuckles, lifting her hips to allow you to peel them to her ankles. God, how desperate you must look when your eyes whip from her face to the patch of hair before you. Your mouth hangs open, drool already gathering on your tongue.
âYouâll catch flies like that.â she teases.Â
Her hand lands atop your head. No pull or pressure. Yet.Â
âBut good answer,â Her fingers flex against your scalp. âShow me how good that pretty little mouth of yours is, shall we?â
Yes ma'am.
Without hesitation, you press open-mouthed kisses to Kateâs spread thighs, relishing the sigh of relief from above. You lay another on the hair above her pussy, inhaling her scent appreciatively, then give a few exploratory licks to her labia, avoiding where she wants you to wind her up. Something about a woman in control that makes you want to pick at a frayed edge and unwind her, even just a little bit.Â
The hand in your hair tightens after more teasing, a silent Get to it. You still spare a couple more wet kisses, then lick a stripe over her hole before slipping it in. Her hips jut toward your mouth, pressure finally applied to your skull. You oblige her, searching for more of the vinous taste coating your tongue. You think it might be the best night of your life when she moans, your hands joining your mouth to gently spread her open.
âThatâs it, just like thatâŚâ She rasps, voice thin and shaky. âThatâs a good girl.âÂ
Your chest bursts at the praise, heat doubling in your cheeks. It cracks your eyes open, vision glazed. The sight of her, brow furrowed and lip caught between teethâyou did that.Â
You dutifully continue, responding to each jerk of your head with soft groans, each one a direct line to your cunt. Pressing your thighs together, you feel how soaked you are, the cotton sticking. By the time you drag your tongue up to her clit, her legs shake, thighs trembling and bumping against your ears. Kateâs trying to keep them still; the tension beneath your hands charged and telling. When you wrap your lips around her clit to suck, you watch her eyes roll back and square your shoulders to keep her open.
âAtta girl.â She grits between her teeth, the fingers in your hair tightening to pull you snugly against her pussy. Her other hand fists the comforter, the fabric crinkling in her white-knuckled grip. âDonât stop,â Itâs almost a whine, bitten back and forced into a grunt. You could die here, nose buried in her bush and tongue stuck to her clit, chin slipping through her wetness. Drown or suffocate. Itâd be a hell of a way to go.
But she comes, eyebrows pinched and mouth wide, going stock-still and rigid until the tension snaps. Kate shakes through it, letting all of one moan loose before clamping her mouth shut, baring her teeth to hiss instead. Her hips buck, and you carefully move with her, intent on catching everything she gives, greedily lapping at her until she tugs your head back.
A wet sheen paints your upper lip to your chin, possibly your throat, and you stare, hands on her knees, up at Kate. Her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, her eyes dark and color high on her cheeks. Mild carpet burn bites your knees, but you donât dare move.Â
Itâs like that for a few minutes. Her hand loosens its grip to pet your hair, her breathing gradually leveling out. Her scent permeates the air and your skin. God, even if you never see her again after this, sheâs a part of you now.
âUp,â She suddenly says, standing and gesturing to the bed. âTake off the rest, then on your back.â
You scramble, wincing at the pops of your knees, but she doesnât seem to notice. The clasp of your bra works with you, unfastening easily, and you shiver when the damp gusset of your underwear slaps wetly against your thigh on the way off. She grabs bottled water from the nightstand instead, drinking deeply, looking away at the curtains covering the windows.
Turning around, she twists the cap and sets the water aside, licking her lip free of a stray droplet. The pink tip of her tongue enough to expel a sharp breath.
Peculiarly, she leaves her shirt on but joins you, crawling onto the bed with a smile that mightâve passed for soft if her eyes werenât so sharp. She leaves barely any breathing space, draping a warm leg over yours and pulling it toward her. Her elbow rests beneath her, propping her up with a closed fist to her temple. Her other hand drifts from the crease of your thigh, over your stomach, and between your breasts. Head tilting, her tongue darts out again in apparent study, drinking you in. Her attention to the physical is just as reverent as it is in conversation.Â
You cannot bring yourself to speak, afraid youâll break the spell. But you twitch once, when her fingers ghost over a hard nipple, and she smirks.
âYes?â
âPlease,â You whisper, not too proud to beg, and reach for her hand. âPlease touch me. I am so fuckingââ
Kate tuts, freezing your handâs approach, then softens it with a hushed laugh. âImpatient. If thatâs what you want, then let me work.â She pinches the bud between her fingers, slowly maneuvering to her knees. âYou were so sweet at the bar. Donât tell me Iâve brought a selfish brat home.â
A frustrated groan slips out, stuttering into a whimper as she withdraws to sit on her heels. Your teeth catch your lip to silence another when she moves between your legs, not sparing a single glance to her prize. Her hands spider up your shins and down your calves. Itâs torture, and sheâs incredible at it.Â
Never in your life have you been called a brat past childhood, and certainly not in the bedroom. It pokes at that earlier inkling, urges it out into the open, but you stubbornly smother it. Maybe you areâbut you donât want to be for her.Â
âKate, please,â you plead again. âPlease, I justâI just got worked up when Iââ
âShh. I know. Iâm being awfully rude. Iâll take care of you, pretty thing.â Kate purrs, finally lowering her gaze to your dripping center, and her lip curls. Itâs calculated, the glacial speed with which she approaches your cunt. Situates herself nice between your spread legs, returning the favor of littering your shaking thighs with kisses, adding teeth into the meatiest parts.Â
Her nails lightly comb south through your thatch of hair, two callused fingers tracing over either side of your sex. A third finger teasing a trail through the wet, before dipping into the first knuckle. âFuck,â she gaps, marveling at the ease. âYou werenât kidding.â
Surely youâd think of a smarter comeback other than the nonsensical babble you stammer instead.
Your stomach twists into knots as a second finger joins the first, easing deeper, thumb hovering over your clit like a trigger. Her fingers move slowly and deliberately, but within seconds youâre taking them to the webbing. They crook and drag against your inner walls, coaxing a stream of needy sounds from your lips.
âWish you could see yourself,â Kate rasps, voice a hair lower. Brow narrowed with rapt attention. âThink you can take three?â She chuckles at the breathy little in a minute you force out. âGood girl, telling me how it is.â
Her fingers start to scissor and stretch, thumb occasionally tapping your clit to see your hips jolt. Your eyes are rolled back into oblivion when her tongue makes contact, and they snap open so fast you need to blink away black spots. Your hands hover over her head, unsure if sheâsâfuck, if sheâsâ
She unlatches from your clit, giving it a peck before nodding at your outstretched palms. As if all business, she sinks back into your cunt mouth-first and closes her eyes with a groan. Your pussy squeezes at the sight, a needy whimper accompanying your fingers as they thread through her hair, ruining her bun.Â
Kate alternates between devouring your pussy and tongue-fucking your hole, showcasing an almost animalistic side to the controlled woman who charmed you at the bar. The sounds muffled by your thighs, so hungry and urgent, itâs almost too much. You suck your lip into your mouth as the heat flooding your abdomen steadily migrates.
âK-Kate, fuck, Iâm close.â
With a wet pop, she lifts her head, face flushed and mouth drenched. Though you quietly protest, your orgasm dancing out of reach, you let a curse shrivel on your tongue. Her fingers slow to allow a third to prod at your hole. Itâs a stretch, even as slick as you are. The two of you groan as she feeds them into you. She drops a kiss to your thigh once theyâre in, gaze flitting up to read your face on the first languid push and pull.
âYeah?â
âY-Yeah, oh, oh fuck.â Your answer turns stupid at the insistence behind Kateâs renewed thrusts. The lewd, squelching sound drowns whatever shreds of coherency and possibly dignity you have left.
Her mouth returns, sawing your clit back and forth, applying pressure in tandem with the plunge of her fingers.Â
If she minds the number youâre doing to her scalp, she doesnât show it. Her hair comes undone under your desperate hands, trying to fuse your cunt to her jaw. Tit for tat, though maybe she thinks as you do, finding a warm and wet pussy a suitable demise.Â
With deliberate timing, her fingers bury themselves, bullying through the tight clasp of your walls, and teeth graze your clit. They sever the last thread of control, and your vision whites out. Head tipped against the pillow and heels digging into the bed, you shatter, voice unrestrained and echoing through the hotel room. A sliver of embarrassment stitches through the silence after, the neighboring suites an afterthought.
Kate cleans you in the afterglow. Your legs twitch uncontrollably as a towel dips between your legs, brain too muddled to appreciate her undoubtedly flattering words.Â
She climbs into bed after that, tucking the pair of you underneath the sheets. You guess youâre staying the night when she folds around you in a spoon. She sighs, deep and satisfied, breath tickling your ear. âGood?â
âBetter than good.â A tired giggle ekes out, snuggling into the bedding. Your eyelids droop, your head blissfully swimming from the faint smell of Kate on your lips. You swallow, unable to stop yourself from sleepily asking, âWhatâs after this?â
Her lips press to your temple in a prolonged kiss. Long enough to make you think you made a mistake. Then she whispers. âSleep. A shower. Then room service in the morning.â She must sense your unease, though, as she adds, âWeâll talk then.â
You nod, half-lost to slumber already, savoring the figure eights she traces on your side.Â
In the morning, you wake to an empty bed and a knock on the door. One foot in post-sex sleep-induced delirium, you find a robe in the ensuite and greet an amused-looking hotel employee at the door. Cart in tow, they breeze past you, lifting a cloche from a mouth-watering breakfast and a small carafe of coffee.
âDo I need toâŚpay for this?â You ask, head as scrambled as the eggs on the plate.Â
âNo, itâs being charged to the room.â The man says as he unloads the cart onto the roomâs table. He delays his departure, though, and you get the message. He leaves with the last of your cash, and you spot a note tucked under Kateâs pillow.
Sorry to leave you like this. Duty calls. Take your time with the room. No one will bother you beyond delivering breakfast. You can reach me at this number if you need a finger or three, again. - Kate
You snort and shove a piece of bacon into your mouth to distract yourself from the ache between your legs.
Later, you consider adjusting your age preferences up a bracket across your dating apps before deleting them altogether. You send a text, and itâs under a minute that three dots appear.Â
>> Miss me already, kid?
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where the fuck is my old military wife smut of kate laswell!??????
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photomode i love you
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100% sottr now im replaying it on ng+
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HEHEHEHEH need her so bad thank you for serving once again mal
hey mal,, could you pretty please make a lara smut where the reader just wants to be used by lara (++ reader has a spit kink) craving some lara smut thank you. - tay
HII, I absolutely could and I didâ sorry for the delay I hope you enjoy how filthy this is, smut under the cut! đ
Lara had you settled on a thigh, her laptop on another.
It was her idea to have both you and work, and it really was working, she had you completely naked, your wet cunt dragging up and fourth on her thigh, but you knew youâre not allowed to cum unless she says so, unless sheâs done with you, and knowing Lara? It could take hours. Your body glistening with sweat and Laraâs spit, her hand squeezing your hip as you relieve the ache between your legs but just enough and youâre not allowed to even finish.
âLara..â a moan left your lips as you felt too close and you just wanted to feel that orgasm already. âNo.â Lara mumbled, whatever she says goes, her other hand typing down as she was working, her eyes not even looking at you, her long hair splayed down her shoulders, as you took in how gorgeous she is, you lean in and kiss the side of her neck as her hand went up your spine and drove you crazier.
âSo needy..â she chuckled as you could still hear the sound of the keys being clicked, she took a break again as she looked back up at you, her hands resting on your waist, âshow me that pretty face.â Lara softly whispered, yanking the back of your hair a little aggressively, causing you to yelp, but her hands went and squeezed your tits as she gathered spit in her mouth to let spill all over your hardened nipple, catching it in her mouth and sucking, your body was shaking as her spit made a mess all over your body, she was sucking you like she was hungry and been starving for so long her breathing uneven as you were trying to stay steady with your mouth hung open as whimpers escaped each time her tongue grazed your nipple.
Your cunt was throbbing, you needed her so bad and you couldnât take the teasing anymore, you knew Lara loved using you like this, watching you desperate and naked on her, being needy turns her on and you knew she was just as desperate as you are as her mouth left your nipple with a loud pop, a string of saliva connecting her mouth to your swollen breast.
Lara wiped her mouth and then wiped the spit all over your face as she giggled and pulled you closer, âopen.â She asks, grinning as she tugged at your chin, you didnât have to think twice before your mouth opened and she spits inside of it, feeling the liquid drip down your chin, urging you to close your mouth and swallow. âGood girl..â she whispered, pressing kisses down your throat, her fingers finding your clit as she rubbed and massaged your needy hole.
You were a mess, you needed her so badly as you started riding her hand, wondering when sheâd stop and go back to her work but you were too desperate to cum, your grip on her shoulders tightened, Laraâs brown eyes found yours as she watched you fuck yourself on her hand, chuckling at the way youâre so out of it, face glistening from her spit and the sweat running down your chest and forehead.
âPlease let me cum..â you whined, the sounds that slipped out of you have never sounded so desperate before. âDid I say stop..? Come on, thenâ cum.â Lara challenged you, staring up into your eyes as she shoved two fingers inside and you were a writhing mess, bouncing on her fingers fast and hard, âfuck..â Lara cussed, her accent thicker than before as her voice grew more hoarse and raspy, her fingers rubbed against that spongy spot that made you see stars and every possible colour on the wheel.
You moaned her name and every curse word in the book as she shoved her fingers deeper, your hips stuttering as the orgasm washed over you, making you scream her name, chest heaving and eyes blinking shut.
âThere we goâŚâ Lara mumbled, pulling you against her into a soft embrace, slowly pulling her fingers out of you to not cause any more discomfort, âthere we go pretty girl.â She adds, her hand sliding down your back to comfort you. âDid so well for me⌠such a pretty thing.â She comforted you, kissing the side of your head as she heard your breathing beginning to calm down, becoming more slow and steady.
âYou okay?â She asks, rubbing your head as she licks your orgasm off her fingers. âMhm..â you mumbled after a moment or so. âSo spent.â
That sure made Lara giddy, she giggled like a school girl at the way she made you so so tired, âletâs go take a bath hm? Youâre a mess.â She jokes, pinching your hip playfully.
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i need her so bad
the don
#re8#re8 village#resident evil#mother miranda#resident evil village#i would need to be physically pulled off of her
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i need trump, vance, musk, and netanyahu to all be launched into the fucking sun
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i would need to be physically pulled off of her...
A few voice lines from the voice of Lady Dimitrescu. I will post more eventually.
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miranda with a back tattoo
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need and want a girlfriend so bad
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got so many ideas but no motivation..
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Hello dear friends! â¤đ¤đ¤đ
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