Taylor Eras Stories

Sette, Showmanship, Silence - 1989/Midnights (Smut)

CW: Exhibitionism, (Strap)warming, Praise, Degradation

!Canon!

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1989 emitted a breath from lungs, moan lodged deep in her chest; folds gently sinking down on a blue - glistened with (safe) sparkles - toy: muscles clenching around.

"Come on," Midnights held her hips into place; urging the younger woman further - only 3/4ths capsulating wet warmth, "I know you can do it, baby."

Throat hitched, white skirt covering what was left of her bare underbody and girlfriend's harness. Finally, the tiniest moan escaped: silicone reaching acme.

"God, you guys could at least try to keep the cuddly shit in your room."

1989 perked up; squeal lodged between her lips as it was in a fuzzle; pupils slowly lingering on Reputation, Lover, Speak Now, and Folklore arriving in the living room.

"Rep," Lover chuckled; resting her temple on Reputation's shoulder, "1989 is simply perched upon her lap; do refrain from pretending we haven't confined our endearing, lovey-dovey displays strictly to the realms of privacy."

1989 listened to Reputation grumble; body slamming down on the cushion couch along with the others - small yelp, leveling causing the toy to bob: blushing to cheeks.

Midnights had a sly smile on her mouth when 1989 dared to eye backwards, wrists suddenly restrained as she was pulled back: clicking of a remote's button in her left ear - right was confined to sultry breath.

"Wanna try something new?"

She gulped; blasting sound of the Netflix™ logo coming from speakers - frame nodding - girlfriend nibbling on said earlobe.

Midnights' praise was similar to a purr, "that's my beautiful girl," fingers interlocking with 1989s hips: snapping back, causing her to gasp.

She watched Speak Now eye her, brows raised - responding with a chuckle, "sorry." The woman smiled and nodded; attention back to the TV that was now playing a movie 1989 did not care to know.

Midnights meandered fingertips up; clinging to thighs. "I would love," she pampered kisses across baby blue's neck, "to see," she stopped at 1989s chin, "how you do."

1989 tilted her head; Midnights leaving one final kiss on cheek, "do you trust me?"

Breath inhaling - intense: eye contact. "Mhm."

"Use your words, princess." A whisper so soft it made her shiver - 1989 gulping down a thick wad of spit that had accumulated.

"Yes, I trust you."

A light slap to skin was administered; noise unattainable as dialogue continued through the area's speakers: 1989 hitched breath louder.

"Just watch the movie."

Her vision was blurred when trying her damn hardest to focus on the screen - figures of characters fogged. Down below, 1989s inner thighs slowly grinded against the thick toy: painfully slow - Midnights humming a tune; chin on shoulder, palms still on hips: doing the devil's work.

Fingers crept their way down her body; travelling down spine - slipping into an entrance already stuffed: slick gathering upon digit, drawing away and out of the blanket.

"Is this really the wettest you can get, baby?" Midnights brought it up, tongue wrapping around its taste; still the lowest voice in ear. "How are you going to please me with this?" Midnights scowled - creeping smile behind. "You're barely trying."