Lipstick Answers

When Michael woke up, his alluring wife, Elisa, was already in the Nautical galley, cooking his breakfast. When he walked in the scullery, wearing simply a pair of red boxers, she smiled politely & placed a layer before him, on the kitchen listing. ‘‘Eggs,’’ Michael said rudely. ‘‘Eggs. I had eggs for breakfast yesterday morning, Elisa. And the morning before. And the morning before. Is it unsuitable for you to cook something that isn’t eggs?’’ ‘‘Well, I…’’ She stuttered. Michael grabbed the face & threw it against the fence. He then grabbed Elisa’s arm & threw the frail lady on the floor, next to their cat’s edibles bowl. He ran upstairs, whilst his helpmeet, with blood in her gob, managed to get up. A few minutes later, he ran back downstairs, wearing his house suit, & leftist without saying goodbye. Elisa cried as the man she loved so dear left. ‘‘Oh, Katherine,’’ Elisa heard herself say, as their trifling, orange cat came out of the area running. ‘‘You are my only adherent.’’
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It was nearly twelve o’clock noon & Elisa was sitting in the Nautical galley, staring at the chalk-white wall. She could still soup the blood in her gateway, since she felt too depressed to go con her teeth. What will I do? She asked herself, crying. Michael was always hurting her. And it was outmoded to make him pay. But how could she? She touched her desire. After all, she was carrying their nipper. And Michael didn’t distinguish it yet. I have to steal some well-to-do, Elisa trifle. What is keeping me here? All I have are my thoughts. My many thoughts. She intern her eyes & for a assist, a brief, gruff second, she was twenty years in the whilom. Norway. Iceland. Sweden. Maryland. Portion her neighbour set her Christmas tree. Treatise glasses. Losing her virginity to a Danish man. She smiled. I have my youth, too. Perhaps it will be a little young lady. She had always wanted a hardly any girl. Or a boy. She remembered her nephew. He had died a few years earlier.
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She ran up the stairs & grabbed a hanger. I cannot keep the indulge, she thought. It’s… It’s Michael’s. She had cogitation about it all afternoon. It’s too much. I don’t scarceness to be associated to Michael anymore. I am leaving. I am affluent to my mother’s. She ran downstairs, holding the wire hanger. It’s habits. She opened her legs & shoved it interior her vagina, shaking it. The tribulation was unbearable. She was screaming. ‘‘Oh, God!’’ The neighbours heard her bemoan many times. All of a sudden, she pulled the wire hanger out & something was seconded to it. She felt a zip on her cheek. It was Michael’s babe in arms. Michael’s issue. Michael’s blood & his genes. Thankfully it was disused now. She placed it on the larder table, sat down before it, & watched it carefully, as though she was waiting for it to move. She touched it gently with her fingers. She smiled. Michael doesn’t like the meals I cook up him, she thought. Let’s see if he likes that.
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When Michael walked in the lineage later that day, he smelled a rather odd scent, one he had never smelled before. What on Dirt, he thought. Elisa was wearing a prolonged, black accoutre & her hair was curled. She was wearing red lipstick & yellow stilettos. ‘‘Salutary evening, Michael,’’ she said. ‘‘Sit down.’’ She placed a portion before him, smiling. Oh, she deliberating, if only he knew it’s his own newborn… She tried not to mock at. She sat down in front of him, on a chair, the Nautical galley table between them. ‘‘Aren’t you active to eat?’’ Michael asked. ‘‘I already ate,’’ Elisa said. He took a gnaw. ‘‘This is delectable,’’ he exclaimed. ‘‘What is it?’’ ‘‘Veal,’’ she replied dryly, slowly slipping her foot out of her stiletto. It went up Michael’s leg, touched his thigh, & his create, large penis, which she started, using the tip of her toes, massaging. He started smiling. ‘‘Are you teasing me?’’ He asked. ‘‘Why, yes, I am, Michael,’’ she replied. Michael in a flash grabbed the scullery table & threw it against the bulkhead; the meal she had spout most of the afternoon cooking splashed all over the larder floor. He jumped on her. She hew down off her chair. Like two animals, they started making disposition. Screaming & yelling & penetrating each other. Elisa moaned with gratification as Michael’s thickset lips found her tyrannical nipples. For a few minutes, they made honey. Once it was over, they stayed on the conquer, Michael’s immense arms around Elisa’s neck. ‘‘Intermission,’’ she said. She slowly crawled at the other end of the scullery & picked up, with her eat one’s heart out fingers, the particular course of Michael’s dish. ‘‘Start the ball rolling your mouth,’’ she said. He obeyed. She placed his newborn on his tongue. ‘‘Swallow it,’’ she whispered. Once again, he obeyed.
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The next morning, Elisa bursting her stuff & red before Michael woke up. He never knew he had, the round-the-clock before, eaten his own son.

I plan to start a blog geared towards the modern day lesbian woman. I love fashion, makeup, & shopping… but I also happen to love girls! I am just sick of picking up tons of magazines that give tons of sex & relationship advice about dating men. I want something different! Can you help me think of something to call my blog? I want it to be catchy, cute & cutting edge but still imply that it is directed towards fellow lesbians. Nothing overdone like “lipstick lesbians” – it can be subtle!