Smut Picture Prompts Meme: Full of Ragrets Edition

[meme_maid]

the  smut picture prompt meme
SIMILAR TO THE PICTURE PROMPT MEME ONLY FOR NSFW/SMUT PROMPTS INSTEAD

i. COMMENT WITH CHARACTER
ii. OTHERS LEAVE A PICTURE (OR TWO OR THREE....)
iii. REPLY TO THEM WITH A SETTING BASED ON THE IMAGES.

THIS POST WILL BE IMAGE HEAVY AND NSFW.

Link to an image:   <a href=IMAGEURL>TEXT</a>

Embed an image in your reply:   <img src=IMAGEURL>

Image height and width:   <img src=IMAGEURL width=500> OR <img src=IMAGEURL height=INSERT>

Comments

[littlemissfutility]

Good, especially for now, seems like it's good enough. She's no sure she could come up with anything better if their places were reversed. Beth snuggles in close, her arms sliding around him, and lets him enjoy the peace and quiet of the room. For the span of a few breaths, it's like there's nothing else in the world.

She perks up when he speaks again, though, gaze shifting back up from the patches of sunlight hitting his chest.

"Yeah," she says immediately, flushing pink when she realizes just how eager she sounds. The last thing she wants to do is demand it from him--but for all she could lie around without finishing herself off for the rest of the day, she really doesn't want to. They've gotten this far without too much difficulty, and the thought of Luke's head between her thighs sends a pulse of excitement through her clit. "I mean. If you want to."

She's smiling as she leans in for another quick kiss of encouragement.

[taggingwomprats]

"Of course I want to," Luke replies, maybe a little too quickly, and his face flushes. He still feels a bit drained and loose from his orgasm a few minutes ago. Sticky with sweat. That doesn't mean he doesn't want to make her feel good. If anything, he's extremely eager. He actually feels a little embarrassed by it. He rolls on to his side and then sits up with a little grin, rubbing a hand through his hair.

"Uh - I guess - get comfortable?"

He starts scooting down the couch. Hopefully he doesn't screw this up.

[littlemissfutility]

Beth grins at the way he answers. On him, eagerness is cute--it's genuine, especially when he smiles like the only thing he's unsure about is whether he needs to chill out. He doesn't have to, obviously, and she can't resist reaching up to stroke his cheek as he sits up. The way he's looking at her, it's hard not to want to touch him.

She slides over a little, taking advantage of the freed-up space on the couch to stretch out on her back. Her turn, now, to lie there like something out of a painting--and it's mostly thrilling, knowing why he's there, moving down the couch. Her stomach feels a little tight, but she does her best to think past it; she's pretty sure it's just anticipation, knowing all his attention's moving back to her.

"I'm comfortable," she tells him, because she pretty much is--and it feels like it needs to be said, if only so he doesn't have to ask.
Everything Luke's done this afternoon has been a reason for her to trust him, and she wants him to know it.

[taggingwomprats]

Beth does look like something out of a painting, as far as Luke's concerned. Not that he's a consumer of high art, but he's seen enough pictures of pictures to know what they're supposed to look like and she looks like them. Just as beautiful and just as radiant in the sunlight that streams in through the windows and dances over her skin and hair. He settles himself above her for a moment, trailing his hands down her sides, over her breasts, and eventually ending at her hips. When she announces she's ready (comfortable), he leans down to plant a kiss just below her breasts and then another on her belly and her naval and against her hips. From there, it's a short hop to her things, tongue and teeth teasing against smooth skin.

This close, he can inhale the scent of her arousal and he drinks that down for a moment as he shifts from one thigh to the other, scraping teeth lightly over her skin. Another breath as he decides what to do and he plants one final kiss on the bare skin of her thigh before he noses in against the lips of her sex with a low, shaky breath. He's only done this a few times before, so he hopes he doesn't screw it up. As it is, though, the bridge of his nose presses up against the little bundle of her clit as his tongue slowly slides over her lips, dragging the flat of it up and then down, experimenting to see what's going to draw the biggest reaction.

[littlemissfutility]

She saw a Caravaggio a couple months ago, close enough to touch. She still remembers what the jerk who owned it said, too: Art isn't about survival. It's about transcendence. Being more than animals. If that's true--and she thinks it is, just not the way Dr. Edwards believed it--then after a while, just living is art in itself. The moments where everything matters, and not because you're fighting for your life, those are as good as anything in a museum.

And that means that, however inexperienced Luke is at going down on girls, his touch is exactly what she wants. God knows she hasn't done this often enough to be all that blase about it, and he did plenty earlier to build up her interest. It only takes a few kisses, each of them moving a little further down, to bring her back to that aching desire. By the time he's at her thighs, his hair brushing soft against her, she's starting to shift to give him better access to her. A shiver rises on her skin as his teeth graze her skin.

She lets a hand settle at the back of his head, the other at his shoulder, distantly aware of just how gentle he was with her before. He deserves the same, her fingers smoothing through his hair as he turns his attention away from her inner thighs.

"Oh--" Beth's breath hitches when his tongue moves over her in a slow, smooth line, but it's the pressure on her clit that has her hips shifting slightly, trying to strengthen the sensation.