It’s Just Lipstick

You pick up the tube and head for the bathroom. You step inside, admiring the black marble floor, pristine white walls and oversized mirror next to the sink.

You twist the tube, freeing the oily black lipstick. You roll it along your lips. It covers them flawlessly. Soon your lips are shiny, full, and black.

You marvel at how kissable your lips are, how the dark color is slimming, and how much it larger it makes your breasts look.

You cup your breast through your loose, white, button down, shirt. You get a wicked sexual thrill.

You hear the clacking of high heel boots to your right. You glance over and see Marsha.

“Wow, I knew there was a hot bitch hiding in there somewhere.”

You search her comment for sarcasm, but it seems genuinely sincere.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot, Gracie. I’d like a reset. Hi, Gracie, I’m Marsha. It’s so nice to meet you.”

You aren’t quite sure what to say.

“Hi, Marsha?”

“Gracie, I’ve been such a bitch, I’d like to make it up to you. Can I take you shopping, my treat?”

“Don’t we have work?”

“Let me let you in on a little secret. I have a good relationship with Davis’s boss. I’m allowed to do field work any time I want. It drives Davis nuts.”

She laughs wickedly.

“I can get a day off field work approved for you and we’ll hit the town and shop.”