Author: insilks

[MF] Heroine Lipstick. (And yes, it’s a real color)

The lipstick color was ‘Heroine’. Not ‘violet’ or the sweeter, passive ‘lilac’: something to be plucked and displayed in a vase, sniffed delicately. The color of an insignia on a page, an action-movie costume. Panned up to reveal a direct gaze, holding with an adversary in the face of certain danger.

And though not dangerous in the usual way, I looked up into an unfamiliar face, wide, dark eyes sliding lower in tandem with the movement of my lips on his shaft. Halfway down, his lashes screened his eyes, giving him a shyly lazy look. I popped him out of my mouth: a wet, thick, treat of a cock, glistening under the fluorescent lights. His gaze flicked from my smile further downward, exhaling in a sharp huff; I didn’t need to look to know he was seeing the smudge of purple lipstick near the base, shading faintly upward toward the foreskin and shiny, delicate head. The pinks of my tongue and that sensitive skin shockingly close, intimate, as I lapped while he was watching, enveloping him once more between soft and clever – if slightly less brightly colored now – lips. Read more »

[F] Incompatible — short story/drabble.

My first post; constructive criticism is welcome. Names have been changed.

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Familiar sounds and scents are all Lia has as she kneels before her husband’s favorite chair in their bedroom: the soft whirr of the air conditioning that moves coolish air over her bare skin; the scent of the almond body creme she painstakingly used as she readied herself for her husband; the soft, comforting noises of the home they’d made together for the past eight years. Familiar sensations to comfort her in the face of another: uncertainty. Always the uncertainty, coiled in her gut, making it hard to keep still, making her press her palms to her thighs and count her breaths when she hears the alarm disengaging down the hallway. Her heartbeat quickens, though not for the reason she would like. Adrenaline skitters up her middle, puckers her nipples, straightens her spine. *Good Evening, Si*r, she practices in her head. And tries not to feel aroused, just thinking it. *Hi, Baby.* No, too casual. Steps down the hall, her name being called. Her husband is home. She flexes her hands on her thighs, wonders what she must look like. Likes the thought, smiles in the darkness. Read more »