WHY DO YOU ASK ABOUT THINGS YOU ALREADY KNOW ABOUT, HMMM?
You know what moshpit sex, it's your fault I am even writing it. For the viewers at home, (who am I kidding? No one else is reading this!) it's a small chapter from the lesbian!Frankie verse shiningartifact and swiiftly have been teasing us with, and they delightfully allowed me to guest write some sex-in-the-moshpit smut for. So yeah girl!Frankie/Jamia/crossdressing Gerard. Yeah. What can I say, you are PERSUASIVE.
Of course I haven't picked it up in a while. I'll paste an excerpt even though you've ALREADY read this.
Fuck, it's such a tease. They're both right there hot and warm and pressed against her and she can't do anything about it. Who's fucking idea was it to go to a show anyway? They could be naked right now. She pouts, rolling her hips as Frankie whips back around to face forwards, shoving back against her, her belt digging hard into the soft flesh of Jamia's hips as she grinds back against Jamia like this is a fucking hip hop video.
Jamia grunts, groping her hand up under Frankie's shirt, her palm brushing over Frankie's nipples. Fuck, she loves it when Frankie goes braless, especially if it's chill or she's turned on and Jamia can see the hard jut of her nipples through her shirt. Jamia's hands are hidden under Frankie's oversize shirt, so she grasps her tit and squeezes. Two can play this game.
She smiles into Frankie's neck, knowing her low chuckle is carrying hot air all down the back of Frankie's shirt. Under the vibration of the bass and the crowd she can feel Frankie shudder, and then Frankie's pushing back against her, grinding, her head dropping back on Jamia's shoulder, eyes at half mast and her mouth slack. Jamia's head twitches to the side, meeting Frankie's eyes briefly in challenge before the crowd surges sideways, nearly knocking them over.
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You know what moshpit sex, it's your fault I am even writing it. For the viewers at home, (who am I kidding? No one else is reading this!) it's a small chapter from the lesbian!Frankie verse
Of course I haven't picked it up in a while. I'll paste an excerpt even though you've ALREADY read this.
Fuck, it's such a tease. They're both right there hot and warm and pressed against her and she can't do anything about it. Who's fucking idea was it to go to a show anyway? They could be naked right now. She pouts, rolling her hips as Frankie whips back around to face forwards, shoving back against her, her belt digging hard into the soft flesh of Jamia's hips as she grinds back against Jamia like this is a fucking hip hop video.
Jamia grunts, groping her hand up under Frankie's shirt, her palm brushing over Frankie's nipples. Fuck, she loves it when Frankie goes braless, especially if it's chill or she's turned on and Jamia can see the hard jut of her nipples through her shirt. Jamia's hands are hidden under Frankie's oversize shirt, so she grasps her tit and squeezes. Two can play this game.
She smiles into Frankie's neck, knowing her low chuckle is carrying hot air all down the back of Frankie's shirt. Under the vibration of the bass and the crowd she can feel Frankie shudder, and then Frankie's pushing back against her, grinding, her head dropping back on Jamia's shoulder, eyes at half mast and her mouth slack. Jamia's head twitches to the side, meeting Frankie's eyes briefly in challenge before the crowd surges sideways, nearly knocking them over.