𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒇𝒇:

I don't have many rules, per se. I ask you to be respectful and not cross any boundaries I have set. Please do not try to get personal information from me, and do not harass me or abuse anon asks if I have blocked you. Plagiarism of my work/posts will get you blocked. It’s rude and disrespectful.

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I keep my blog silly and fun!! I want to entertain and keep my blog a safe space, so please respect that!

“Mommy, ‘m not tired.”

You are. It’s a lie, and you know it. Wanda knows it too, but it is adorable to see your eyebrows scrunch together as you pout.

“Sweet one, it’s way past your bedtime,” she whispers, gathering you in her arms. Your face is immediately smushed into her breasts—and you would never complain about that—as she holds you tight and settles against the pillows.

She’s right. It’s late. And you’re sleepy. Your eyes keep closing every few seconds, much to your dismay. You want to stay up. There’s no reason why. You just want to. Something in your body won’t settle yet, a restlessness you can’t explain.

And Wanda is very aware of it.

“Shh,” she whispers, right into your ear. “Close those pretty, pretty eyes. Just listen to Mommy. Shh…”

You listen, letting your eyes fall shut and keeping them closed. You feel her hand slide slowly down from where it had been stroking your hair to your neck, then your collarbone, your chest. You hum as she gently squeezes your left breast on her way down, squirming ever so slightly.

Wanda laughs softly—it’s damn adorable how you shift and whine even when you’re about to drift off—and slides her hand further down, into the waistband of your sleep shorts. The fingertips of her middle and pointer finger brush your clit over your panties and you bite your lip, squeezing your eyes shut.

“That’s it, my darling dove.” Wanda’s voice is so, so soft. Like a warm blanket over you in the cold. Like a feather brushing your cheek. It’s hypnotizing and soothing at the same time, and you can feel your stomach start to flutter. You don’t even realize—not that you could see it coming anyway—that her eyes are glowing a faint red in the irises.

You suddenly picture a vivid image. Her on top of you, kissing down your neck. You know it’s not happening right now, because you can feel her chin on your head, which means it can’t possibly be on your neck, but it feels so real.

Wanda watches your body react, the way your thighs squeeze her hand, which is still cupping your pussy over your panties and resting there. It brings a very specific kind of satisfaction to her, seeing the restlessness already start to fade because of her distractions.

The image in your mind changes—now you’re bent over and she’s behind you, spreading your folds to get a good look.

“Oh, precious baby,” you can hear her somewhere in the distance, “so wet for me. All for me.”

You moan softly, rolling your hips up. Wanda bites the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning, and she lets you grind against her hand. In fact, she slides her hand under your panties so the mental image can feel more real.

“M-Mommy…” Your voice is slightly slurred from sleepiness, and it’s also this beautiful whine that Wanda adores. She doesn’t quite know if you’re speaking to the real her or the dream her she has implanted into your cute little brain, but she’ll happily accept either one.

“Shhh, let it happen. That’s it—good girl…” she whispers. She decides to help you out, since you’re starting to lose your rhythm of grinding. Her fingers start rubbing circles on your clit, well-acquainted with the exact pressure your body needs to feel the pleasure start to build. Your thighs tighten, and she uses her magic to push them open and hold them. She can’t have you ruining this, after all.

Once again, the mental image changes. It’s like the magic responds to you, making a highlight reel of every fantasy you’ve ever thought about, which only increases the strength of what you’re feeling. In a matter of seconds, you see Wanda fucking you with her fingers in a public restaurant, then Wanda forcing you to crawl through the house completely naked with a red ass, and then her strap—from her point of view—slipping in and out of your pussy rapidly as you sob for her.

It’s there. The orgasm is right there. Your toes curl against the sheets, your hips move against Wanda’s fingers with no restraint. It’s right there. You just need a final push, one thing to get you over that peak—

“Cum for Mommy.”

It’s all over. In the fantasies, her voice in three different tones, three different emotions, three entirely different contexts. And it’s in both of your ears in real life too, and that’s all you need.

The pressure suddenly loosens all at once. You gasp, gripping onto her shirt desperately as you arch into her. And there she is, her arm wrapping around you even tighter as her other hand continues on your clit to help you ride the orgasm out.

And then…quiet. No more restlessness. It’s gone now. It’s been vanquished. You can feel every part of your body relax. Your toes, your calves, your thighs. Your hips, your stomach, your arms.

“That’s it, such a good girl,” Wanda—the real Wanda, your Mommy who is smiling down at you with satisfaction—whispers. “So good for me. Just relax. Let it take you. Shh…shh…”

And you’re asleep. Her hand is just drawing out from your panties and you’re already out. Fast asleep, relaxed and breathing steadily.

Wanda nuzzles her nose against yours and then kisses your forehead, lips lingering for a few more moments than truly necessary. When she draws back, she admires your sleeping form.

You’re beautiful. Truly. You are a work of art. There is not a single part of you that is not breathtaking.