Mouth For War

That mouth of yours is built for war.

Some women have soft, beautifully shaped lips. They're meant for gentle kisses, for tender merging, for quiet sighs and gasps and lovemaking on cool satin sheets. They're meant for words of love, for terms of endearment, for benedictions and acceptance and grace

Some women have thin, hard, compressed lips. They're meant for sneering, for pressing tightly together in disapproval, for excoriating curses, for bloodless slashes of cruel smiles. You don't kiss a woman like that -- she'll cut you. Lips like that part in pleasure only rarely, and usually self-pleasure at that.

Some women have generous, wide mouths. They're meant for smiling, for spreading in admiration, for cheer and crinkling of grins and splitting wide with full-on belly laughs. They're meant for enthusiastic kisses, full-bodied and plump with heady cooperative lust. They're meant for generous gasps of pleasure, for giving yourself to the moment, for loud cries of ecstasy.

Some women have tiny rosebud lips. They're meant for exploration, to tease and open up like the flower they resemble. They're meant to part with sighs of emotion, worried words that speak of the woman's fright at what she's feeling. They're meant to return kisses hesitantly, uncertainly, not certain of what's happening next.

And some women have a mouth for war.

All's fair in love and war, they say, and your mouth proves that. Dangerous lips, lips that quirk into a wicked grin or a knowing smile or simply part to reveal the tip of your tongue as it runs along the lower lip. Your mouth is meant for full-on contact, for bruising hard kisses, for drinking from your lover's mouth. It's meant for dirty talk, for yelps and screams, for filthy words of lust, for "fuck me" and "give me that come" and "I need your cock right now", for "bend me over the table" and "oh god yes right there right there right there FUCK YEAH".

A mouth for war. It's meant for sucking, for licking, for breathing deep the intoxicating aroma of lust and sweat and sex. It's meant for biting gently, for wrapping around my cock, for striving hard against my invading mouth when I slam you against the wall. It's meant for gulping down my come, for licking me from head to toe, for tasting your own girl gloss on your fingers after fucking yourself.

A mouth for war. Not one in a thousand. But you've got one.

(Title and inspiration for this entry stolen from Pantera's "Mouth for War", which I happened to be listening to today.)

-- PB