Honeyed Lips Novels & Stories

She had a slight gap in her labia that revealed her throbbing clit, and she was obviously slick with need even though she’d just been submersed in the water. I brought my mouth down, teasingly biting her lips before sliding my tongue inside her slit. She was as delicious as I’d thought she’d be, and even more addictive. She had that same sweet honey flavor, but with a subtle tang that I appreciated. She was like a fine wine, both sweet and dry, and the perfect blend of all elements.

She was trembling constantly now, thighs shaking, voice gone hoarse from begging. “Please—please just let me—” “Not yet.” He reached for the honey. This time he didn’t drizzle. He poured it straight from the jar in a thick, amber stream directly over her clit and watched it slide down in slow, viscous ribbons. The honey was warmer than the chocolate, thicker, clinging to every fold. When he finally touched her again it was with the pad of his thumb—pressing the honey into her clit in slow, firm circles while two fingers slid back inside, fucking through the sticky sweetness.

he whispered, eyes locked on my mouth. I parted my lips obediently, tongue darting out to catch the drip of honey as he fed me the berry, the sweet-tart burst on my tongue making me moan softly. Some honey escaped, trickling down my chin, and he leaned in instantly, licking it clean with a slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue that ended at my lower lip, sucking gently before pulling back with a wicked grin. “Messy girl,” he teased, voice husky. “Gonna have to clean you up all day.”

I hungrily take him, sucking, nibbling, and brushing my tongue around the lower part of his lips. When he pulls away, I'm breathing so hard my head feels fuzzy. “How do you taste?” he asks, in amusement, and heat rises on my cheek. He can tell. “Does that make me weird?” I ask in a whisper. “Weird is not the right word to describe it,” he smiled. “Then tell me instead,” I tease him by biting my lower lip. The heat wave is slowly creeping its way up but is bearable. His eyes darken at the question. “Warm honey,” he murmurs, leaning forward until I feel his breath. “Thick and slow, spilled over sun-hot skin”

My heat rose like a train up my cheeks , my heart beat got loud , I bite my lip out trying to back away but he didn't let me . " My name is Aaron , everyone here calls me Dean" His rough voice reached me . I nodded as he steps back , He grabbed my bag and motioned me to walk , " So , am I suppose to call you Dean ?" I asked looking back and I saw his eyes trained on something .

I moaned, low and needy, my hips rocking back instinctively. "Damn, that's hot," Harlan breathed, stepping closer to watch, his eyes dark with lust. He straightened, his eyes gleaming as he spotted the honey jar I'd pulled out earlier for the smoothie. He unscrewed it, dipping two fingers in, before smearing the golden liquid across my breasts, watching it drip in slow rivulets. "Open up," he commanded, pressing his honey-coated fingers to my lips.

he whispered, his voice husky and low. His lips trailed down her jawline, pausing at the sensitive spot where neck met shoulder. Sophia tilted her head to give him better access, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his descent. His tongue flicked out, tasting the skin above her collarbone, and she gasped, the sensation both electric and intimate.

My eyes travelled down to her marvellous plump lips, that are begging me to have a taste with which each taste changes every bit of my mentality. The taste of her lips is unique that I can't get it from any woman, and most of all - it intoxicate me to devour her lips more until it turns pink. She remain still with her body leaning on me, her glassy ocean blue eyes continue staring at mine. Calling her beautiful is an understatement as words can't express how pretty the Moon Gooddess created her, she could be mistaken for an expensive ornament. Maybe it is the effect of her lips that I have once tasted that is working right now.