Masculine Makeup Novels & Stories

Nox had come here to buy himself a new mask. I examined both his current mask and the one he held, contemplating their designs. Finally, I voiced my thoughts, saying, "Well, the design is impressive. However, I don't think it exudes masculinity." "Does it really need to?" he retorted. "Considering you'll be the one wearing it," I replied. A mischievous smirk played on his lips as he uttered, "This isn't for me." Confused, I muttered, "What?" He proceeded to explain, "This is for you."

Mason and I soon got ready and we both went to the clothing store just a few miles away from our house and I didn’t expect shopping with Mason to be so fun but it was and I enjoyed every bit of it. We got some clothes for me and Mason brought out a bikini and despite my insistence, he made sure he got it. We walked to the makeup aisle and he raised an eyebrow. “Uhh, what are you doing?” He asked and I picked up two shades of foundations as I turned to look at me. “Getting makeup, you told me I looked sexy, remember?” I asked and he laughed. “Yeah but that’s supposed to be for me, you don’t need makeup, you’re sexy just the way you are and adding makeup to it will make those guys stare at you

kissing me might get him in some serious trouble when he arrives back in London. Mike is kind of a bad boy … big and brawny, with a lot of tattoos and he has a motorbike … he could turn a guy like Byron inside out. Byron strolls over during a break, it is very hot and his makeup is literally melting off of him, so he has to get a lot of touch ups. "Well, have you decided to give in ?" Byron sends me a mischievous smile, while I am opening my makeup bag. I start touching up his face ... he has such a good face to work with, with a strong jaw and cheekbones to die for ... he can carry the heavy makeup needed to turn him into Hades.

“Caleb.” He raised his eyes from my chest to my face and flashed an innocent smile. “Yes, ma’am?” “You look handsome,” I said, fixing the collar of his shirt. He had makeup on. Which was usual for the people attending my gay son’s marriage. But he pulled it off really well. Thin black eyeliner on his mono-lids with soft cherry toned lip gloss that made his pouty lips look juicy and inviting. “Handsome enough to bury my face in your—pardon my French—pretty, fuckable tits?”

It's flabbergasting to me that there's no difference to be noted, except his jaw is considerably more defined and visible. I don't know many males who do not regress down in years when they cut off the full brush on their face. Their features ordinarily lose the maturity possessed beforehand with the beard. Not Mikael. What I'm saying makes scarce sense, but not a single ounce of manliness has faded from him. He might be more attractive now, even. No more are the distractions from his icy blue eyes, which smoulder brilliantly, scorching me through the puffy sleeves of my winter jacket. I battle the sudden urge to hide behind a barricade.