A.H. Scott: Lipstick Serenade

red lipstick on an asian woman wearing a corset
Lipstick Serenade.Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2021

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A.H. Scott: Lipstick Serenade, Copyright 2021

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Lipstick Serenade

Red lipstick exudes the passion a woman has inside

Pressing that tube to her lips, she knows what reaction he’ll have

He sat in a chair across from her, as she winked at him

Ready for the night to begin, she closed the tube and stood up

In red bra, thong and garter, the stockings were grasped by her hand

Slowly she sat back down and began to give him a show

He felt an explosion beneath the denim he was wearing about to blow

Sliding stocking over right leg and then left, those ends of the garter were attached

Vision of loveliness in red stoked his lust

Lipstick started him off and seeing her in red was getting him off

But, she was only beginning the serenade of seduction

He walked over to her and stood directly at eye level

She wasn’t going to be doing anything to smudge that lipstick

A job of the hand would be his reward

Nothing more, nothing less

Wrist worked back and forth, as those red lips shimmered with a smile

He was grateful for small things she would do for him

Before they were heading out to dinner at a fancy restaurant, this was his treat

He’d been on the Olympic team as a sharpshooter

She knew he always was a man who enjoyed targets

Red lipstick was the circle

Her tongue was the flashpoint

He still had the magic of that sharpshooter of days gone by

Lipstick never was smudged, as her open mouth closed and swallowed

The lady in red and the man who smiled with pleasure continued with their evening

Neither spoke of her handy work or even his laser hitting its pinpoint

Yet, as they sat in the five star restaurant she placed a forkful of angel food in her mouth

He noticed a few crumbs upon those lips of red, “Why can’t I be that cake?”

She licked them off and said, “Because, you are no angel, my love”

Taking napkin to corners of her mouth wiping the crumbs off slowly

She stood and went to the powder room and freshened up

When they left the restaurant, she whispered, “I guess it’s time to smudge my lips”

Kissing him, their lipstick serenade would begin again when they returned home

And, when they did, her lips really got smudged…..

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About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and frequent contributor to Tony Ward Studio. To read additional articles by Ms. Scott, go here: https://tonywardstudio.com/blog/limo_dark_windows/

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