Lesbian Femme - Tumblr Posts

I met a girl at the club. It was a hot humid night and we danced and laughed and kissed. She smelled like incense and we sang to Billy Eilish. At the end of the night she invited me on a date tomorrow evening at her house. A vast shared house with 11 other flatmates plus their friends and partners. We all cooked together making huge quantities of vegan curry. At one point someone played Umbrella by Rihanna and everyone appeared and did a flash mob dance to it. I joined in following her moves, her face lit with joy. Later that night as I sat outside she appeared with my phone and gave it to me. “I’ve been sending you tit pics from the bathroom” she laughed. I pulled her into my lap and kissed her neck. I told her how much I had enjoyed the evening. “Let me show you my world tomorrow”. She arrived promptly at 8. I pull her in and take her coat. I kneel down and slide off her heels. I can tell she’s made such an effort. She smells and looks wonderful. A little nervous compared to the relaxed carefree girl of the last two evenings, She’s 3 or 4 inches shorter than me. I eye her hungrily. “Are you hungry?” I ask, she shakes her head. “I’m starving” I tell her as I pick her up and she giggles relaxing a little. I lay her down on my big bed, soft puffy white covers and cushions billowing around her in the peace of my apartment. She props herself up on her elbows watching me as I crawl up the bed, pushing up her dress, squeezing her thighs, fingers rubbing the wet spot on her panties as I compliment and praise her. She wiggles her hips so I can pull up her dress over and off. She flops back, lying down with a gratuitous moan and exhale. I spread her legs and lean over her, one hand resting on the bed beside her, my knees between her thighs. My other hand rubbing firm circles against her pussy through the material as I gently lay kisses on her, her scars, her marks, bruises, blemishes, the hollow of her throat, the rise of her breast and gentle swell of her stomach. Looking down at her admiringly I say to her “Red is for stop. Orange means pause, slow down. Green means carry on.” She repeats after me. “I’ll make you feel so good I promise sweet girl. Are you ready, are you happy?” She quickly replies nodding her head and breathily agreeing and I know she’s mine.

Never thought I would ever do this, but got some new underwear and felt sexy enough to share.

I love femme women without apology. I have never understood the dynamic in the lesbian community where femmeXfemme couples are less prevalent or desired. I want a femme lover, partner and girlfriend. No offense to masc women, but it's how I love.

super warm hug to the femmes who struggle to accept themselves. An extra hug to those of us who struggle against the shame that marginalization has taught us in order to carve out our sense of home in being femme.

fat femmes who don't have a conventionally feminine body shape

femmes of color who have never been treated as delicate or worthy of protection

femmes who are strong-willed, abrasive, direct, and assertive

femmes who have never felt desirable, who have felt like they were invisible or even unworthy of being in relationship with others

transfem femmes who feel starved of true acceptance

femmes who overcompensate for this feeling by becoming neurotic and controlling about their outward presentation

femmes who deal with this feeling by stifling their femmeness and hiding behind the most nondescript clothing they can

You are all worthy, and you are all precious.

edit: I wanted to explicitly include transfems :)

Yes I am!