Let's Be Lesbian Foreplay

oh my god I just started laughing on a zoom call.

OP 😂😂😂

[QUOTE]Let's Be Lesbian Foreplay

I'm a drunken game of Rock Scissor Paper.

I’m remote starting the Subaru.

I am the Diana Ross song ‘I Ain’t Been Licked’ being looped over and over, as I FDS feminine wash myself into a stupor.

I’m the finger in the dyke prepared to give her actual pleasure.

I’m the untying of the bound boulders.

I’m the seductive whispering of Home Depot. products.

I’m the stating of boundaries and the consequences for violations of the same. “I’m telling you now, etc.”

I’m the processing that has to happen after the boundaries and consequences are stated.

I'm the pink bubble gum used as a dental dam.

I'm the kd lang CD

I’m the plaid flannel teddy.

I'm the seductive spoken word poetry slam that rallies against the chains of oppression!

I'm the furtive glancing at the clock wondering if we could get this over before Jeopardy

I'm the lumbering, tongue waggling, shuffling from side to side as she approaches and I keep expecting her to start singing "Thriller" at any moment.

I'm the Xena and Gabrielle roleplay.

My first take on the title at a glance was Let's Be Lesbian Foreskin....thought, how is that??? But, read it again.

I'm the oil and grease that's needed often from Lesbian death bed.

[quote] Let's Be Lesbian Foreplay

So what piece of IKEA furniture are we putting together??

I'm the metal detector and forceps to find her missing wedding ring.

Lesbians do foreplay?

I’m the Birkenstocks and Timberlands being kicked off seductively.

I’m the Goop candle.

R21 Packing the moving boxes. At least two have cat toys.

I'm the sex that follows. I don't actually exist.

I'm

I'm the windexing of the glass table

I'm the six pack of Miller Genuine Draft

I'm the O'Keefe's Working Hands cream being spread seductively all over my arms.

I'm adopted refugees/dogs/cats being covered in reflector stickers and shoved out the door.

I'm the phallic sword fight with their canes

I'm Big Jen's tool belt, which erotically falls to the floor in a fit of extasy

Oh dearing myself. Ecstasy.

I'm the pile of Carhartts on the floor as Madge and Edie (pronounced Eddie) get busy.

I'm the pack of Marlboro Reds sitting on the nightstand.

I’m chronic fatigue syndrome. I make this very difficult.

I'm Lesbian Bed Death lurking in the dark recesses of the not too distant future.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: gay men used to be my favorite people in the world until I came to Datalounge.

Thanks, DL, for letting me know what gay men are really like without their "company manners" on.

I’m the tired misogyny! Oh hang on, that’s most of the DL.

I'm telling you NOW, so I don't have to tell you LATER.

I'm the two lesbians kneading the nutloaf dough in their hands, like Demi Moore and Patrick Swaye with the clay at the pottery wheel in Ghost.

I'm the cellulite jiggling like cafeteria jello as Big Jen's sweet spot comes alive!

I'm the stamp collection and scrapbooking because it's all we lick anymore.

I'm the jealousy and inevitable fight at the lesbian potluck that turned into an all-out brawl... and the group make out session in the jail cell.

I’m the “ok then, I s’pose,” initiating the torrid lovemaking.

I’m the safari outfits and didgeridoo for the “stranded-in-the-outback” fantasy scenario.

I'm the thorough physical that makes sure there's no man on this land.

r46 played to Sophie B. Hawkings. I don't know why. nobody does. but it's always Sophie B.

I'm the men's boxers shorts fluttering in front of the fan as she flexes her bicep

I'm the Birkenstocks.

I'm the womynist drum circle that performs out the window their rendition of "Kiss The Girl" to bless and bring harmony to every lesbian hookup that doesn't begin with a uhaul.

I'm the Radical Lesbian bumper sticker.

This is NOT funny.

I’m the simultaneous belch, fart and queef. I enhance the mood rather than kill it.

[quote]I’m the processing that has to happen after the boundaries and consequences are stated.

And consensus. Don't forget consensus.

I'm the tuna-scented candle.

r53 just because you haven't been laid since the days of Carole Pope was eating out Dusty Springfield leaving you bitter and humourless does not give you the right to pooh-pooh on everyone else's entertainment. If you'd like to offer a woman's touch by all means do.

I'm the dildo attached to the end of an electric screwdriver

I'm the handful of lipstick she smears all over your face as she forces your head down her dress to lick her boots like the good little butchie boi you are.

I'm the all the F&Fs she did to this thread. She's ready for bean counting now.

I’m the pheromone filled turkey baster.

I'm the sweat-soaked mullet.

r57, r53 was doing an old joke.

We’re our two lawn-mowing tractors that we drive, docking with each other!

r63 Ah. I just wanted to insert Carol Pope somewhere.,.. still trying to work on material about bingo hall lesbians.

I'm the dreamcatcher earring on one ear only, swaying seductively in the breeze.

I’m the gay male fan fiction (written by other lesbians) that we read beforehand to get in the mood.

I’m the double ended dildo sitting dutifully in the nightstand.

I'm the skidmarked granny panties falling to the floor

I’m “a little to the left, Babe.”

“What’s THAT supposed to mean?!”

I'm the Snickers bar wrapper found in between fat rolls

I’m the LPGA tournament.

I'm the orgasms that straight women don't get in straight sex.

I’m the word “misogyny” which has been rendered meaningless by overuse.

I'm the foursome paint fight recreating that classic scene from The Facts of Life when they retooled the show to become the success that it was. Or Mindy Cohn's casual "I survived" pool party.

I'm the sports that serves as proxy to whatever lesbian foreplay is supposed to be... lust, rivalry, I dunno, because i'm just focused on doing my Personal Best... she better keep up or she'll be singing this used to be my playground.

I'm the sumo wrestling.

I'm the hummus, used in a very sensual way.

I’m birkenstocks and Subarus

I’m the nut loaf in the fridge.

I'm the roll of duct tape.

I'm the garbage detail.

I'm the cat hair.

I’m a pushy autogynophile with a shenis!

I’m the knuckle-cracking

[quote]I'm telling you NOW, so I don't have to tell you LATER.

Oh, dear.

I'm the nutloaf-flavored douche.

I’m one of them picturing about Jodie foster circa 1991 to cum.

I am the i can't take a joke brigade.

r89 (NOT) true story, Hannibal Lecter's line "I can smell your cunt from here... " was modeled on Judy Gold.

I'm the uncertainty and hope, and the first tentative indications that a gentle tonguing of a lady ham would not cause offense.

I'm the butch that's awkward in her body and doesn't have the first clue about foreplay, so I smile at you like a serial killer clown and pretending I'm juggling my massive oversized breasts.

I'm the U-Haul

I'm the lipstick that you picked up at the farmer's market, sure, I'm hot but I also claim to be allergic to soap, so you're stretching out the foreplay as long as you can while frantically digging around around for your goggles because you know my ripe peach is going to mace your eyes once you get down in it.

I'm the reference letter you're writing for the would be cashier because eh, it's a small price to pay during a dry spell

I’m the not-quite-there aroma of personal products made by Tom’s of Maine.

I'm the finger flicking her freakishly long nipples like a cat playing with a doorstop because you forgot where you were and what you were doing.

I'm the theatre dyke that hooked up with a dominatrix, she called me a pussy and told me to act like a cat, so I started singing "Memory"

Let's not.

I'm the ceremonial cleansing of the house with the burning of sage to purify the corners and free the space of bad vibes like my two timing ex that I wasted a quarter of my life with and put up with her family's shit, and for what, her to walk out on me while I was pregnant with the baby she wanted but she had the higher paying job so it was it better if I did. oh, no, no, no. Fuck this white as light shit, where's some draw, I'm making me a doll and we gonna harness this energy to bring her world down

I'm the neglige-clad pillow fat because I'm in a sorority and everything says that's how str8 girls do it. . . and then I just need to get her alone, offer a massage, talk about boy troubles whatever those are, and make a pact to give up men.

I'm the pot. Wait, what. I am the pot. I am the honey, she is the bee. I'm the flower, she is the faerie harvesting the nectar from my petals and leaves. Rainbows flow into pots. I'm surrounded by rainbows. Does that make her my leprechaun? She has charmed me, she has stolen all of my charms. Damn, I'd really like some lucky charms.

I’m the shoulder massage that went south quickly. Literally!

I'm the toothbrush trying to hide in the bathroom.

R63, you say I’m doing an old joke; I say I was keeping a classic alive.

I'm the endless discussion about the relationship.

I’m the pre-coitus cocktail: a Bloody Mary with a string hanging down the side of the glass.

I'm the watching of the Suze Orman financial check-up DVD.

I’m the picture of k.d. Lange hung up above the bed. Ya know, inspiration.

I’m the dream catcher whose feathers tickle Hank’s nose just enough to make her sneeze.

Jean finds it adorable.

A friend's mother said "What do lesbians do? At least you guys have something to work with."

Jesus the stupidity of 99% of the replies in this thread - you guys are still stuck in the seventies, aren’t you?

R112 it's a lot of hands.

r113 You could always create a thread to address your concerns with this one and explain how you believe this represents hatred of women.

r113 fcuk it. we can do this here. do you know what young people believe are lesbian stereotypes today?

"squinting"

"types only in lower case"

"overuses heart emojis"

those aren't just answers from one or two randos, they're codified into popular in-community forms among these youths. so, for now on all lesbians are squinty mcsquintface. Oh, and don't try them jokes about silver ladels or university sweaters, they are too stupid to understand them.

I'm the waxing of pubic sideburns in case ms squinty needs directions in the dark.

I’m the pike of ace bandages and knee braces on the floor. I’m also the Tartar sauce used as lube.

R115 if you need someone to explain how most of the replies on this thread represent the misogyny of their posters then your stupidity beggars belief.

I'm the untrimmed, unkept bushes

We're Pat and Kathy, image consultants. We don't belong in this thread.

I’m the massage oil pooling in the folds of back fat.

r119 I'd like to discuss more of this with you, so please create a thread and we can discuss it without interrupting the playful ribbing and admiration of dykedom others are sharing here,.

I'm the orgy of Sara Lee, Little Debbie, Betty Crocker and just a slight touch from Mary Kay to set the mood.

I'm the struggle with the tupperware lid to get out the sex toys.

I'm Big Sal's hawaiian or bowling shirt., She has one for every occasion. You know she's in the mood when she's wearing her 1950s bombshells and pinup shirt. Yes, this about as much foreplay as she can muster; shirt, music, shaking the drink mix and shouting out Brace yourself, Sheila!

I'm the mouth exercises in the mirror. It's not only gay guys that have to learn how to unhinge their jaws.

I'm the interpretive dancing.. the dance of seduction with the hypnotizing giggle of having two hips like battleships; one staying home while the other takes trips. This is the secret behind how she snags all the hotties. They're mesmerized.

^ giggle = jiggle

I'm the stank of ripe hairy pits after the big softball game

I'm Dorothy Hamill hair perfection as I slide across the hood and make the perfect dismount to present flowers to my soon to be latest conquest, Ms. Bicurious Homesick who says I remind her of her brother and with those tits, I'm not going to question why she wants to get into her brother's pants, I'm just happy to be of service, my lady.

I'm the sexy Susan B. Anthony costume. I know she was a famous broad we probably owe a lot to but I'm just playing this out like a school marm, I've got a long ruler. Are you ready to be punished?

I'm the drinking games. Normally, I'm just beer and whiskey but sometimes, I'm jello shots that are drank from the tits and navels of bouncy sorority girls that are only going to hurt me in the end but it's a long spiral to the bottom.

I’m the Anne Murray album playing in the background.

I'm the awkward, unfulfilling yet stress relieving hookup in the pint size linen closet, wash or laundry room that first time you take your girlfriend home for the holidays.

I'm your friends mother that is a big ol' lipstick that enjoys the social comforts and stature of her marriage and centers in on every babydyke from miles away. The low cut shirts, dresses, especially bends over close to your face.. makes every effort to touch you wiping crumbs from your face, drying the "accidentally" split cup from your lap, massaging your calves up to your thighs in case of a cramp and just take care of you in an ever so innocent way, you're never quite sure and with a low, heavy, breathy, sigh.

I'm the trampoline.

I'm the cameltoe lip-syncing to your favorite song.

I’m This Old House playing on mute. It really gets Kit’s juices going.

I'm the stone cold yet smoldering and intense stare from across the room before prancercising your way

I'm the bowl of organic granola and the scent of patchouli everywhere...

I'm the two lasses awkwardly maneuvering into scissoring position, legs akimbo as vulva approaches vulva, the slick smacking sound as they suction together, and the smart snap as vaginas are pulled apart, all while appearing to ride an imaginary bicycle built for two.

^ that all sounds bit to close for comfort. Are you a lesbian by any chance?

I'm the thrill of the static electricity generated through the rubbing of hairy legs.

I'm the juicy lips that smack when she pulls out a cherry lollipop... waving it around like a wand with grace of burlesque dancer as it glides across her body, lightly staining it with all the places you dream to go and for a single moment, she's yours alone.

I'm the drunken brawl that turns into tears and then into kisses.

r146

[quote]I'm jello shots that are drank from the tits and navels of bouncy sorority girls

Oh, dear.

[quote]legs akimbo as vulva approaches vulva, the slick smacking sound

Vulva vs Vulva: The Smackdown

I’m they boxes gettin eaten.

[quote]^ that all sounds bit to close for comfort.

Oh, dear!

I’m Bonnie Mace and this thread is making me HORNY AS HELL!!!!