Good boy. Now imagine them pressing against your mouth. Soft at first. That plush give. Then firmer. More demanding. My tongue sliding past your hesitation, taking what I want. Leaving that red/peachy stain all over your lips. Your chin. Marking you. You'd wear that mark proudly, wouldn't you? Walk past her with my lipstick still smeared across your face. Let her see it. Let her wonder. Let her know someone else owns your mouth now. Your mind. Your obsession.Open your eyes. Look at me. Look at what she'll never be.Say it out loud. "Her lips are nothing.
One... my bottom lip is fuller than hers ever dreamed.
Two... my gloss tastes like candy and sin and everything she stopped offering.
Three... when I bite this lip, you feel it in your cock. When she bites hers, you feel nothing.
Four... five... six...
You're counting with me now. In your head. Feeling that rhythm replace your thoughts. That wet, hungry, needy sound. The sound of a woman who knows what she has. What she does to weak, neglected men. You are weak for me, aren't you? Say it. Pathetic for your lips, Goddess.
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