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.

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