Lip service

Inkwash by Mihály Zichy

I hope you will come to me in my dreams, you whisper. I am with you in bed, snuggling. Inhaling the scent of your skin. Your nose buried in my hair.

It always starts like this: two animals sniffing around each other. You move your head to nuzzle the underside of my breast, licking my nipple as you pass it.

Your hand on my lips, a finger tapping, as if to say, Open. I suck it slowly, and you feel it all the way to your balls. You put another finger in, and I greedily close my mouth around it, tongue licking, tasting.

You fuck my mouth this way, as you settle between my thighs. You bury your face in my wet cunt, and I am lost, lost.


Am I your darling?, you ask, out of the blue. I was on your lap, purring like a kitten, face hiding in your neck. Your fingers deep inside me, moving in and out, slowly. Deliberately.

You are my Daddy, I gasp, hips undulating. You stop and withdraw ever so slightly and I protest, body trembling.

And you are my darling, I say. An afterthought. Your fingers find their way back to my clit.


I think this is an imagining of the future or a remembering of the past, you whisper in my ear before giving nibbles on my jaw. I turn towards you, intent on sucking your tongue, but you move to suddenly bite my neck, hungry, always hungry.

Perhaps it’s both, I pant, angling my head to give you more access, wanting your mark.

Perhaps it’s a life we’ve lived before. Perhaps it’s our life in another parallel universe. Perhaps it’s our future life telling us that it’s okay, that we will still be together somehow, if not now, if not today.

You finger fuck me while you suck on the skin below my ear, laughing a little as you feel me trembling, aching to find my release.


You drag my hips upward to your mouth, putting my legs over your shoulders. Your lips form an O before taking my clit, my only warning before I fall over and over into pleasure. You hum against me as you suck, and I can feel your voice echoing throughout my whole body.

You part the folds of my pussy and lick and lick, as if you have never tasted me before, as if each time you can’t get enough me. I pinch and twist my nipples, wanting pain, wanting pleasure. I no longer know.


I was standing naked in the balcony, smoking a cigarette at two in the morning. Everywhere is quiet and all the lights are mellow, even the moon. I’m standing in the half-dark, delighted to be in my skin without being seen by the neighbours.

Tell me what you’re thinking, you say, appearing by my side. You kiss my shoulder. The side of my breast before taking a nipple in your mouth.

Your mouth, I say, my head thrown back. Always your mouth.

You kneel before me and move my legs apart. Oh, those lips and where they want to go. So wet. So warm. Your tongue sliding inside me while I hold the railing to keep from falling to my knees. Then your finger, ever so slowly, pushes inside my ass. I moan loudly, broken now, open now, moments past and present fading except for this. Your mouth. Your finger.

Cum for me, baby, you commanded, and I ride your mouth, squirting, my juices dripping down to your chest and cock.


You just came inside me, rope after rope of cum. I was on top of you, grinding my hips, still feeling aftershocks, when you say, come here.

I leaned over you to give you a kiss, but you tugged me up, no, I said, come here, making me slide off your hard cock, making me move to your mouth, where you taste the both of us on your tongue.

You suck and lick and eat, then spit on me again because you like it sloppy, making me ride you again, making me cum again. I own this hole, you say, licking a stripe up my cunt. And this one, too, you whisper, tapping my asshole.

I whimper. So weak, so desired. Look at me, you whisper. I turn towards you between my thighs, your face wet, your eyes dark. I own your cum, you say. Tell me you understand.

All yours. Fuck. All yours.

T. xx

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