Lipstick

I am writing this as a task for my Domme.

She told me that she liked the way my mouth looked doing things in lipstick. It was a surprising realization that I watched her come to while we were standing in a friend's living room. You see, I do not wear make-up. Certainly not lipstick. Maybe some concealer if a fun night lands me with some bruises that I can't hide under my clothing. But I do not care to spend my time in front of a mirror applying make-up every morning and all those brushes and pencils poking around my eyes make me tear up. I never learned how to do make-up properly, I suppose. What some girls do with make-up is downright magical to me. I mean, they call it a mascara wand for a reason, right? Alright, maybe it has a little bit to do with the fact that I am what you might call "masculine presenting" or "butch", but I prefer the former. My hair is cut short. You're far more likely to catch me in a suit than a dress, although it should be noted that I look damn good in either. But masculine women wear make-up all the time, and so do masculine men for that matter. So, mostly, it's just that I don't know how.

But on that day, I was wearing a full face of make-up. A group of us were sitting around a friend's apartment drinking beers in the middle of a Saturday afternoon. After a while, we all got bored so my friend, who is a professional make-up artist, jokingly suggested that it would be fun to do my make-up. I think she was a little surprised when I agreed without hesitation or fanfare, but, like I said, I don't dislike the idea of wearing make-up. I just don't know how to do it myself. So, I followed her over to the vanity where she kept all of her make-up. I watched as she pulled out tubes and sticks and palettes. She held things up to make face to make some mysterious mental calculations that are beyond my comprehension. Then she led me back over to a chair by the window and told me to sit. We continued to chat and drink beers while she used brushes and pencils and pure magic to apply make-up to my face. When she was done, she giggled with joy as she handed me a little handheld mirror. It was strange to see myself with a full face of make-up but she's good at what she does, that's for certain. She asked if she could add just one more thing - lipstick.

Now lipstick, for some reason, seems like the next level of make-up to me. Maybe it's because of the brightness or the emphasis it puts on your mouth or the term "lipstick lesbian". Whatever it is, lipstick is not just make-up in my mind, it is outward femininity. I had never worn lipstick before that day, not even when my hair was long. So, I agreed. I was curious. My friend got out the brightest red lipstick you can imagine, like a cartoon red lipstick, and applied it to my mouth. And, you know what? I didn't look half bad. In fact, I looked kind of hot. I would have made out me.

She had been there the whole time, half watching in amusement, but not overly invested in my mini makeover. We were all a little tipsy at that point so we started searching for snacks out of the kitchen. There were these little brownies that somebody grabbed from god knows where. She held one out to ask if I wanted it. I don't know what came over me but, instead of taking it from her like I normally would, I leaned over and took a bit out of the brownie while she was still holding it in her hand. I looked her dead in the eye the whole time but I noticed that she wasn't looking back at my eyes. She was watching my mouth. My bright red lipstick mouth. Her eyes got wide and a smile spread across her face like a kid unwrapping a gift on Christmas to find a toy that Mom said they couldn't have. In front of everyone, standing around drinking beer and eating junk food, she told me that she never realized how much she would enjoy watching my mouth do things in lipstick.

It was a good thing I was already wearing blush and a generous layer of foundation, because I felt my face get hot immediately. My friends started to laugh and make comments like "I guess we all know what you'll be doing later" and "wait, do it again, I missed it". I did my best to casually brush off their comments as I sat back down with the other half of the brownie and my beer.

We all went to a house party that night. I thought about washing the make-up off so that nobody would fuss but my friend was really proud of it so I left it on. Every now and then I would catch her watching me. No, not me, my mouth. When I took a sip of beer. When I was telling a story. When I laughed at someone's joke. At the end of the night, she grabbed my arm as I was walking toward the door.

"You leaving?" she asked.

"You coming with?" I responded.

As soon as my apartment door shut behind her, clothes started coming off. I tugged off my boots. She kicked her shoes clear across the kitchen. She kissed my neck and chest while she unbuttoned my shirt. I grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head, but when I leaned in to kiss her she held up a hand to stop me.

"Is that smudge-proof?" She pointed to my mouth.

"I don't even know what that means really."

She smirked, "Let's find out."

She led me down the hall to my own bedroom. This wasn't the first time she had been there so she knew the way. I paused to take off my jeans in the hallway before catching up to her in my room. She was already helping herself to the drawer next to my bedside that she had seen me pull things out of on previous nights like this. But this night felt a bit different from all of the previous nights. I tilted my head at her, trying to figure out what exactly she was looking for. She was calmly searching through everything, on a mission but far from frantic, like she was trying to find a particular book amongst the stacks in a library. When she found what she was looking for, she pulled them out of the drawer and closed it. She held up the black leather strap-on harness and its accompanying dildo. I reached out to grab them, assuming that I knew what she was asking for, but she quickly moved them out of my reach, confirming my feeling that this night was going to be different.

She sat me on the edge of my bed before putting the harness on. She looked damn good standing there in my strap-on. As she came toward me I notice that her eyes were, as they had been the entire day, locked on my mouth. She stood between my legs and held up a hand to my face, curling her fingers under my chin to lift my head slightly up to her. She dragged her thumb across my bottom lip, gently at first, then with more pressure. I wasn't sure what she was hoping to find but she smiled, apparently happy with the result. She ran her thumb across my lips again, this time in downward motion, and pulled my bottom lip down with her thumb. She took advantage of my open mouth by sliding her thumb between my lips. I let my teeth part to lick the bottom of her thumb, then closed my lips around it as she slowly pulled her hand back away from my mouth. I watched her eyes widen again as they had earlier when I bit into the brownie. She repeated the process again with her index finger, watching my mouth the whole time. It finally occurred to me what she was getting at with all of this.

I grabbed her hips and pushed her back slightly away from the bed so that I could fall forward onto my knees. When I looked up at her, just to make sure I wasn't getting my signals crossed, she was looking down at me smiling in amusement and awe. Understood. I took the dildo in my mouth that same way I had done with her fingers, making a real show of it because, hell, if she can't feel anything it might as well look hot. But I couldn't leave her wanting. I moved my right hand across the front of her hips and between her legs and slide my hand under the harness and her underwear. She was already wet, I guessed, from enjoying the show. My fingers fell into pace with my mouth. She must have really enjoyed the visual in combination with the sensation because she started moaning like I had never heard before. She buried her hand into my hair and held on tight. Her breathing grew faster and moans louder until finally she came. She took a step back and pulled her hips away from me, just like she had done with her fingers. Her eyes watched my mouth the entire time.

Still catching her breath, she managed to tell me again, "I really like the way your mouth looks doing things in lipstick."