Lipstick Bite Novels & Stories

Brown lipstick? Victor hates a color brown shade of lipstick on a girl's lips. The hatred started when he saw his mom crying while holding a polo shirt with a brown lip mark on its collar. From then on, his mother fell into depression until she died. Seeing someone wearing brown lipstick awakens his desire to confront his father and kill the girl behind it. He dislikes anyone who wears brown lipstick, but why does he was delighted looking at this girl? He continuously observed what the girl is doing, how she eat while reading the newspaper, and how her eyebrows goes up and down when reacting.

But her crush on him was eating her up; a part of her yearned for it, and it still hurts her every time she remembers Andrea's inadvertent rejection of her. "You didn't have to explain everything in detail, Andrea." Lily pursed her lips and her gaze fell on his lips, noticing the slight cut there. "What happened to your lips?" she asked, avoiding touching his face. Andrea shrugged in response, sucking on his lowerlips, where Amira had bitten him when he kissed her, but he never felt any pain, just a light sting. "Nah, Lily, you worry too much; It's just a minor incident caused by my little wife," he chuckled, noticing the line frown between her brows and quickly brushing it off, "I never kne

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.

she says, taking my hand and leading me to a less crowded part of the dance floor. I place my hands on her waist and pull her a little closer to my body—but not so close that our chests touch. She puts her arms around my neck and bites her lower lip as we move. I bring my hand to her face and notice her lip from the pressure her teeth are putting on it. “What did I tell you about biting your lip?” I say, still resting my thumb on her lip. “Not to do it because I could hurt myself. I know—it’s just a habit,” she says, looking straight into my eyes.

It was just another lie to hurt her, after all. Her mother's head came peeking out from around the corner and shot Lila a withering smile. She made a come hither motion and crouched down on Lila's level, her sharp, angular knees sticking out, and gave Lila a kiss on her wet forehead. Lila watched her mother's face scrunch up in disgust as she realised that she had just ruined her once perfectly on point lipstick on a combination of groundwater, mud, and sweat, before she harshly scrubbed at her mouth, content to leave Lila's face marked with the large, red splot that looked like a smattering of ugly spots, rather than resembling a pattern.

His words also implied that if I couldn’t protect myself, danger would always lurk around me. I bit my lip, clenching the bottom of my dress to hold back my irritation. Miron’s thumb lifted, and he touched the corner of my lip, rubbing it gently in a circular motion. “Don’t bite your lip, especially with your lipstick red like this. You’re testing me, you know that?” His tone was lower now

It was a struggle, but it was so worth it when I gently bit her wet pussy lips along her fabric. Dahlia’s scream could nearly bring the ceiling down on us. She arched her back so perfectly that it gave me the facelift I needed. I couldn’t see, but I was certain her hands were strangling a handful of the bedsheets to death. I bit her again, this time with a little increase in force. She screamed words that her thighs muffled my ears from picking up. Her juice spread all over my lips like spilled water on the floor. But this wasn’t the time to ravish her delicious taste. I was more about making her lips a glistening, swollen mess. It only took a couple of seconds of swooning my tongue around a

she whispers in my ear, clearly close. I pull out my slathered fingers and bring them to her lips. This doll of a human looks at me with her big brown eyes and sucks my fingers like I offered her a lolly. She fiddles with my tip as she licks herself off my hand, and I arch forward with a growl. She moans in support. With a flicker, her dilated eyes light up gold. I’ve never wanted anyone more. I pull my fingers out and take her mouth to mine again, diving my tongue between her teeth to taste all of her. Her salty wetness coats my lips.

My lips were swollen red without even wearing lipstick. You ask why? A certain someone kissed me for hours. Yes, hours! And I did not stop him. Because it felt good. I pressed the ice against my lips as they burned a little. He bit me hard, his canines pulling a little blood out of my lower lip. He did make up for it though, by licking it clean.

The color of this lipstick is very light, a thin layer, moisturizing and bringing a good complexion. He pressed it against her lips again, as if to taste the remaining taste, and then opened his lips to entangle with her, and the taste of orange was brought to her, sweet and sticky, which was very touching. She chased him, sucking and biting, greedily absorbing the sweetness. The taste of orange faded, and only her unique softness remained in her senses. He began to demand it, forcing her to retreat step by step, and he held her head with one hand to face him, and let her go only when she knew that her breath was unstable.