Sweetness and Danger

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falsettos genderswap. whizvin smut but girls
KEY
Marvin : Marilyn

Whizzer: Whizzina

Trina: Troy

Mendel: Melody

Jason: Jessica

Whizzina laid in her bed in the den, reading a book. It was nine-thirty, and she was already half asleep in her pale pink nightgown. That was, until, her girlfriend slipped through the door, locked it, and crawled into Whizzina's bed.

"Marilyn, don't even think about it. There is no way we are fucking tonight. You have a daughter to care for, tonight, hon."

"Oh, but dear, I want to take care of you tonight. Jessica is asleep."

"You have a husband to sleep in the same bed with, then."

"He's out. Most likely with my fucking shrink."

"Doctor Melody? Like, Melody Weisenbachfeld?"

"Mhm."

"Okay, weird. But shoo, I'm reading, darling."

"Babe - "

"Don't babe me, you know what that does."

"Love,"

Whizzina let out a unsatisfied whine at the nickname. "Please, hush, darling."

"Oh, but Whizzina, you're irresistible." She whispered, lips already attached to the taller woman's neck.

"God, I hate you,"

"But you still live with me," Marilyn replied, voice smoothly seductive. "And hug me ... and kiss me, and fuck me."

"Shush."

Marilyn smirked when Whizzina pulled her into a lusty kiss. "You're lucky I love you," she said once they'd pulled away for breath, panting against each other.

"Lose the nightgown, would you?"

"Demanding much?"

"Only for you, hot shit."

"Lies."

Nothing more was said as Whizzina tossed her hair back and lifted the pink fabric from her skin and tossed it to the floor, gently.

"No bra? Slut." Marilyn teased, going in for another kiss - eagerly returned by the woman growing desperate under her touches.

"I'm not a slut." She said.

"Not for anybody else, maybe,"

"Hey - "

"Hush up."

It didn't take much more dirty talk and frisky touches for the couple to get to the real business.

Whizzina flipped the couple so she was on top, sat firmly on Marilyn's hips, and leaned down to kiss her - again.

Finally, though, after fifteen seconds of tongue, she moved to strip Marilyn of her own blue nightgown.

"Beautiful," Whizzina mumbled, reaching down tentatively for her lover's - well, she liked to call them tits. Marilyn was civil - breasts, she would say.

"Oh," Marilyn breathed, lips plump and parted slightly, brunette waves of hair pooling at her neck. Her eyes rest half-lidded and her vision remained blurred. "God, Troy could never make me feel this good ..."

Once Whizzina began to suck at her neck again, though, a switch flipped in Marilyns head. She huffed outwardly and pushed at Whizzina, flipping them again.

Pale wrists wrest in her hands - what more could she do than to pin those wrists above her lover's head? The woman under her squirmed, just a little, as Marilyn began to trail kisses down her body -

———

Leaving Whizzina to wake alone, tangled in the satin sheets of her bed and still, well, naked.

Outside of her sheer curtains she could see, barely, snow coating the buildings of New York, another thick layer of white falling over the city. A beautiful sight, she decided.

Before sitting up, she checked the clock resting on her nightstand - nine-thirty.

A monday.

Jessica would be at school by then. Troy, at work.

Marilyn, at home. To cook, clean.

To love...

In a fluster, Whizzina ushered herself to find a satin robe and string it over her figure. She tied it tightly, in the worrisome case of Marilyn's family still being at home.

She tied her hair into a ponytail which rest lazily over her shoulder as she slipped into slippers and unlocked her door.

Once in the kitchen, where she suspected her dearest to be, she wrapped her arms around her from behind and placed a lone kiss on her neck before scurrying to the bathroom to check her appearance and, oh.

Apparently, in the midst of their encounter, Whizzina had begun to cry. Her head was hazy for a second, and then it hit her - they'd done something new, that night.

The passion, the lust, the stimulation, was all so much for poor Whizzina, she'd begun to cry, and the proof remained on her cheeks.

Mascara.

"Darling," she called cocking her head and taking her ponytail down. She reached for a hairbrush.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"What did we do last night?"

A low giggle sounded behind her, Marilyn there always to place seductive kisses against Whizzina's tender neck.

"Would you like me to show you?"

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