Aphrodisiac - G. Washington

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Contains: sex + sir kink

Pairing: George Washington x fem!reader

Request(s): How 'bout more G wash smut

Can you write a GWash smut with a sir kink or one where he makes her call him general?

A/N: There are so many requests, oh my goodness. I swear I'm trying to get to all of them. Also, I got super into this...

Word Count: 1510
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The way her hips swayed and the way she bent over his desk to clear it were George's breaking point. He could only take so much before he forced her to leave him and the fact that she always curtsied with the same words, 'goodnight, general' drove him up the walls.

You wouldn't expect it to be such a big deal but fuck the way she said it made it sound like she'd also like him to take her right there on the table and never stop.

He wasn't wrong. After she left each night, she would touch herself in her tent, softly moaning his name with only an imagination to simulate his moans in her mind.

God, if only he could just pick up on her hints. She didn't wear her sexiest dresses and slowly try to seduce him every night for nothing.

It was the same as every night, she dressed in her sexiest red dress, the neckline dropping low and the dress outlining all of her beautiful body.
George worked as she stood on the opposite side of the desk, slightly bent over as she neatly organised the desk that got messed up each day. Her hair fell in her eyes and she bit her lip as she concentrated on a few papers that were folded unevenly. She hadn't been paying any attention to Washington when she became focused on the papers but he was most definitely focused on her. Her head snapped up when a low growl exerted from his throat, it was a dark and arousing sound. She crossed her legs, tightly pressing them together as she continued to stand, pretending not to hear the sound and ignore the fact that her juices were starting to run down her leg. She had run out of leggings to wear so she was going commando with only her thigh-high stockings under her dress.

She moved around the desk, apologising when she reached across him to retrieve the second volume of a book that belonged to the others.
George's large hand grasped her bicep and he looked at her with lustful yet annoyed eyes.

"That will be enough," he said. She gulped and nodded, putting away the book before curtseying to him, "Goodnight general," she said in the most suggestive voice she could.
She exited the tent, shivering at the cold and scolding herself for not grabbing her cloak but she only trudged on, sure she would anger the commander if she went back. It would only end in a more stressed general and further wetness running from her folds to be soaked up in her stockings.
When she entered her tent, she lit a candle and immediately dropped onto her cot, laying back and pulling up her dress. Her fingers immediately found the space between her legs, running a few fingers up her thigh, feeling the slippery substance that George's presence alone had caused.

Back in his own tent, Washington stood from his desk, stretching and sighing as he decided to finish his work the next morning before his meeting.

He went to take off his coat when he spotted the woman's cloak laying on a chair.

He contemplated taking it until he decided to deliver it quickly and return to sleep. She would most likely be sleeping anyway so he could just drop it in her tent.

George grabbed the cloak and exited the tent, waving off the soldiers who started to follow him. Her tent wasn't far.

When he came closer, his eyebrows furrowed at the quiet sounds coming from inside. He recognised them and slowly felt jealousy build in his chest, was she sleeping with one of the soldiers?

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