Rival’s Rapture (Fights.Sexy)

A post of mine, with art of a bearhug has been flagged for being "sexual content" -- even though it was tagged as having sexual themes. I guess that means that Tumblr is still WAY TOO aggressive in their moderation of content. Despite their outreach claiming otherwise.

Now, I haven't given up entirely, just yet. I'll just have to do what I do on Instagram, which is just post the least adult elements of my work.

Once, and then again. Once, and then again. You raise up, and then slam your perky tits down on mine. Our soft, supple flesh giving way with every blow. Expanding out in a mushrooming base, only to find their form again as you lean back up to come again.

The heat of the room, and the ferocity with which we struggle causing us to sweat. The warm comforter beneath us making those first few drips and drops increase to a quick sheen.

My lips releasing grunts and groans with every lift and subsequent drop. I can’t take this. I can’t last, with how vicious each blow is, even if they aren’t painful. As what they are, is withering, and fatiguing. And so, desperate to do something – ANYTHING, I search the recesses of my mind for something we have done before. What I can use to escape a pin. And in a flash of action, on both our parts, I go to bridge beneath you. Our hands and laced fingers releasing, as you, due to angle, slide up my body and to the side. Not off of me, but across my chest. Your hands catching my right arm, and your thighs wrapping around my left in a front-side crucifix.

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Want thousands of femfight stories from the web’s best writers? Go here!: https://www.Fights.Sexy

I can hear you speak, and me reply. Feel the tremble of your lips as you whisper to me, and sense the same vibration when I do the same back. 

What are we saying? Where do our minds linger in this moment of embrace and intransigence? 

I would tell you if I knew. Recite it for you, if I could make out the words offered. But I am too engrossed. Too intoxicated. Too lost in this moment…. This struggle…. This mutual bearhug with you. 

The heat of it, both literal and figurative. The intensity of it, more than anything we have ever known. And though I cannot describe what we say to each other, as minutes pass and then pile behind us. From single digits to tens, then on and on. I can feel myself giving way. Giving in. 

I can’t squeeze you anymore. Can’t keep my bearhug locked on you. And so, somewhere in the madness and chaos of this carnal, cathartic, and crushing hug, I find a way to squirm. To shift as my arms release you. Pulling our womanhoods apart, as strings of essence cling to and bridge between them. Uncrossing our legs, so I can try to climb.

To stand? To tackle? Again I am without answer, as before I reach zenith, you suddenly squeeze again. Hard. And in your arms and in your lap I collapse. My bare breasts framing your beautiful face, as I look down into your eyes. 

Shivering as I let loose the most delicate little whimpers. My lips hovering just above yours. My mind finally clearing enough to process sound, speech, and sequence.