"Would I mind?” I asked.
"Would you mind if I put some on your lips?” she asked. “They look a bit pale."
"No, I don't mind,” I whimpered.
She came closer. Her fragrance reached my nostrils and I thought for a moment that I might become lightheaded. She had that aromatic scent that a woman has after having an entire night of earth-shattering sex.
"It's called Ruby,” she told me as she touched the tip of the wand to my lips.
I stood, frozen still like a granite statue, closing my eyes and breathing her in. As she massaged the color over my mouth, I could feel my body trembling.
I felt as if I was being decorated by Aphrodite, goddess of beauty, love and sexual desire, and when it finally got the best of me, I peered out from under my lashes. There she was, only inches away, concentrating on making my lips as perfect as hers, a feat that I knew would be near impossible. Her lips were slightly parted and her breath was sweet, as if she had just eaten a gingerbread cookie, or perhaps even sucked ginger off her man's cock. I wanted to taste her and for the first time in my life, I did the absurd. I kissed her.
It was a soft kiss, perhaps like one you would give a first date the first time you touched her mouth with yours, but a kiss nonetheless. Her eyes grew wide as I pulled back, and for a moment, neither one of us knew what to say. I was the first to recover, so I took the lipstick from her hand.
"I think you need some color on your lips,” I said quietly.
Her eyes softened and a look of desire crossed her face.
"I just put some color on,” she told me.
"Not those lips,” I replied as I touched under her chin with my fingertips, and then began to kneel in front of her.
She looked down and smiled, and then began to lift the front of her dress until her shapely thighs were showing. I looked up and urged her to keep going.
As her crotch came into my view, I realized I was in for a treat. She wore no panties, the heat of the summer having driven the idea of undergarments away, and the swollen lips of her pussy were shaved bare.
I silently went about my delightful task and treated her labia to color, edging carefully with the wand. The blood pulsed to them, and I saw the puffiness of her clit emerge, making the lips swell more. She offered no apology for their condition.
"May I taste?” I asked.
"Yes."
Her voice had a touch of breathlessness to it, and she said the word as I had never heard it said before.
As I lowered my head and touched her clitoris with the tip of my tongue, a shudder went through her body, and she put her hands on the back of my head and into my hair.
"Don't stop,” she whimpered.
I had no intentions of stopping, not until I felt the tremor of her orgasm against my face.
I lapped her taste into my throat. I had never tasted anything as sweet and I licked her pussy like a starving child with his first ice cream cone. My dessert, however, was far more delectable. The pink folds inside her cunt lips were soft, almost like wet velvet, and I devoured her. As I sucked and nibbled, I felt her body responding, bidding me to search for more places of desire. One of my hands reached around to her bottom and as I pulled her tighter to my face, one of her legs moved over my shoulder. I shoved four fingers of the other hand into her cunt, and she gasped and pushed towards my hand for more. Her juices began to coat my nose, chin and mouth as I continued to probe.
"Oh yes,” she cooed, “Oh yes, please don't stop."
I quickly found her most sensitive spot, just beneath her engorged little clit, and her body writhed in pleasure as I nibbled, sucked and licked. When I eased the fleshy hood back with my fingertip and sucked the swollen nub between my lips, an animal-like reverberation came out of her throat, and she pressed me harder, matching her hips with the thrusts of my tongue and fingers.
The waves of pleasure began to wash over her and she cried out as the spasms of her orgasm enveloped her. Surge after surge pulsed through her body until finally she couldn't take anymore and she reached for me to make me stop. I released her and stood. A pink blush had shawled her throat and cheeks, and she held onto the vanity in an attempt to catch her breath.
"What's your name?” she asked as the ability to speak came back to her.
I handed her the tube of color.
"Ruby,” I told her as a smile crossed my face, “now you'll think of me every time you put on your lipstick."
She giggled.
"And now every time I go into a ladies room."
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KISS THIS
"Why are men such assholes?” she asked as she finished her second drink.
I wiped off the counter in front of her and put a fresh napkin down for her to put her glass on.
"Not all of them are,” I replied.
"Yes they are,” she said quickly, her hands flying up and gesturing in the air.
I smiled. Being a bartender, I was the sounding board to many a jilted lover.
"You just haven't met the right guy yet,” I told her.
She made a little circle with her index finger and thumb.
"Tiny little assholes … just like this. Every fuckin’ one of them."
I chuckled to myself.
"Miss, don't you think you've had enough to drink?"
"Not just no,” she retorted, suddenly slamming her hand down on the counter, “but Hell no. I can still remember his name."
"Who's name?"
She snapped her fingers in front of her face and thought for a moment.
"Whatshisname? Oh yeah … Jeff. That's the asshole's name."
"So you're trying to drink enough that you forget his name?"
"That's the plan, sweetie. Now, pour me another."
I didn't want to, but it was my job. I poured her another drink. As I put it on the napkin in front of her, I leaned a little closer. I could see she had been crying, so the guy had probably just dumped her.