Lip Drawing Novels & Stories

She appeared almost hollow. Lily started fidgeting with her hands. She chewed on her bottom lip again, cutting open an old wound. She licked at the little beads of blood forming. “Your lips.” He pressed his thumb to her chin, forcing her to look at him. Caspius flattened a palm on the bed. “You’re bleeding.” Slowly, he dipped in. He licked a new bead of blood. By the gods, her blood was just as sweet and floral as her scent.

Thick, and the dripping tip is almost grazing my lips. I swallow hard, my throat already anticipating the thick, delicious shaft that is about to come. And fuck… this is truly a punishment, because right now, I desperately want to run my finger along that beautiful pink dripping tip and stroke the veiny shaft until I feel it pulsing in my hand. “Lira..” he palms his cock and uses it to slap my lips hard. “Next time.. if I ask you to say something you should understand?” “Yes,”I moan out, licking off the juice that is on my lips and swallow hard.

they peeled. Pain. Oh, God . . . the pain. Craig wailed silently as nerves blazed like fireworks until they died, ripped away in the skin and muscle torn from him. As they pulled away thick, corded tissue from around his thighs a writhing stick figure emerged. This awful thing jigged and jittered as gentle hands cut, lifted, and folded. Spiny red limbs dripped with gossamer threads. And then . . . the last. They cut under the chin first.

But instead, he opened the cap, pulled out the stick, and grabbed my jaw, pulling my face close to him. “I can help you out.” he muttered, his breath hot on my face. He gently put the colored, wet side of the stick on my lips and swiped it left to right, carefully smearing it on the skin. Once done, he handed me the stick, and then with the tip of his nail, he drew a line on my lip. I looked at him, his eyes still fixed on on lips. He was so concentrated and cute, that I almost arched up and kissed up again.

The ocean sparkled outside. Sunlight warmed the floor. God. Everything calm. Fair. Meanwhile Lily sat nearby drawing. Reasonable honestly. Or attempting to. Most of her attention remained fixed on Peanut. God. Naturally. Fair. Then it happened. Reasonable. Lily leaned closer to show one of her drawings. God. A masterpiece. Fair. Apparently a dolphin. Reasonable. Though it looked suspiciously like a potato. God. Then Peanut saw her. Fair. Immediately. Reasonable. Tiny eyes locked onto Lily.

I slowly opened my eyes ,seeing the water circle around my ring finger up to my wrist as elegantly and gracefully as possible . I lifted my left hand bringing the first four fingers right above the water that was dancing beautifully around my wrist , I changed the shape transforming it into a thin and slender rope-like structure ,almost like a whip ,I went out to the backward ,moving a little back and dragging the after whip right in front of me multiple times ,the completely leave filled bushy lemon tree now stood only as a naked bark.

he thought to himself. Lily was in his office. She opened the first aid cabinet in her office and took some medicine from it. She cleaned her burned hand and applied some cream to it. She went to the washroom and fetched a towel, placing some ice into it, she placed it on the side of her lip. The slap was so hard she sustained a cut on the side of her lip. She decided to keep the incident to herself. She concluded she may have mistaken the man for her childhood friend. She looked into the mirror and realized the swell had gone down a bit. She applied some light makeup to cover the purple finger marks on her face and continued with her work till the day was over.

He licks his lips nervously and Lyrien's eyes follow the smooth movement. * *

Rhada made a gasping-choking noise as I nibbled her flesh. My distraction must have worked because she missed my hands moving down. The middle and forefinger of my left became a wedge working between her buttocks. With the right, I led with my middle finger, using my fore- and ring-fingers to part her labia. The clip-rings of the chain were secured on each thumb.

It had a bulge where plaster met old copper, a belly where there shouldn’t be one. She couldn’t hear the drip over her own bubble-noise. But the drip started anyway. A bulge widened by a fraction. One bead of water formed and swelled and fell. It landed on a junction box bolted to a crossbeam—blue tape, electrician’s scrawl, dust. The drop slid into the seam. The box ticked. Jasmine didn’t see it. She switched to breaststroke, slicing through the flat turquoise like a knife through a hard jelly.