Red Lips…
We search out quite places to whisper dirty thoughts and kiss. I watch as she raises the wine glass to red lips and find the imprint she leaves erotic.
We search out quite places to whisper dirty thoughts and kiss. I watch as she raises the wine glass to red lips and find the imprint she leaves, erotic.
She asks me if I like the colour and smiles knowingly when I say I do. She says it is from a make-up artist to the stars, and she likes this particular shade — she then asks if she can mark me and kisses my cheek. In response, I raise my glass and make a toast to her new colour. We laugh to the sound of crystal.
She carries a lipstick case and mirror she picked up at a vintage store and is always quick to check that her lips are perfect— that is, until she kisses me on the cheek.
I shift closer and move to taste her lips. As I pull back, her taste is on my lips and I ask how I look — she laughs, says something about sexy, and we passionately come together. Our tongues explore each other’s mouths and she playfully shares her lipstick which I hungrily accept. She pulls away slightly and looks at me and shifts to kiss my neck; her kisses are soft and gentle, and I can feel the red.
I whisper, “More”.
She breaks away and reaches for her vintage case. As I sip my wine, I watch her apply lipstick without any care. She takes a sip of her wine and moves to kiss me hard. I place my hands on each side of her head and hold her in place as we lose ourselves in the kiss.
When our lips part, she says she wants to look; after a moment, she whispers how it’s perfect — like a work of art. She tells me she has no panties on and wants me to make her lips red.
In this quiet place, she moves to the next able, sits on it, and while shifting her skirt, spreads her legs.
W
the kiss is the seduction
You leave our bed early to catch a flight — the soft pink impression of your kiss is on the mirror with promises of desire and lovemaking.
Like most of our conversations, they tend to weave in and out of the topics of the day and are always mixed with enough innuendo to remind us that everything we say is part of an ongoing seduction. Over dinner one night, we debated whether seduction, by its very nature, has an end in mind or is something that only ends when energy and desire are exhausted.
Does a single seduction lead to drinks after work, and then its a different seduction that leads to the first kiss, and then a continuous series of seductions until bodies are intertwined — or is it something much bigger and not simply a series of progressive events? We have no interest in finding an answer to this question, and believe me we have come back to this many times in whispers, in arguments, and even in our own seductions. Our only agreement on the topic is with the kiss, although we have debated if it is a measure or simply a benchmark.
It was snowing when we kissed for the first time; the flakes were large and floated around us —the street and the world disappeared and I fell into you.
After the music, and as we walked to the car, we stopped and kiss deeply — lifting you into the air slightly, you jump and straddle me.We made love for the first time that night, and I fell even deeper into you.
You leave our bed early to catch a flight — the soft pink impression of your kiss is on the bathroom mirror with promises of desire and drunken sex.
Your kiss enters as a dream and sleep dissolves as I kiss you back; at first it is a dream, and then with the realization you are kissing me, I draw you in— your lips are soft and your tongue offers more than simply a kiss before sleep; I now kiss you deeply. I am hard and not fully awake but I search you out. You are wet and shift willingly to take my cock. We fuck as if in a dream.
Maybe in the end, the kiss is the seduction.
W
image: smyoozh