Thesimple task of raising a fork to one's mouth had, for Jim, become avehicle for womanly expression and manners.I noticed Jim closely examining the cocktail glass in which I had servedhim his new drink of choice - a Shirley Temple. For the first timelipstick traces ringed his glass. His lipstick. Another rite of passageticked off.Naturally all that eating and slurping did take it's toll on young Jim'slips. When we had come to the end of our meal, Jim sat back and took acompact from his pocket. (I have no idea where that came from, I guess Ihad not seen Jim add that to his booty at ULTA) He flipped open themirror on the compact and then delved into his other pocket and producedhis good ole Softsilver Red Super Lustrous lipstick. Another rite downthe drain. The young man was refreshing his lips at the table, whilesitting next to his mother. Soooooo very cute!When the lipstick application rituals had been observed, the lipstickwent back into it's sheaf and the compact closed itself. He saw her eyes flutter and then open. A smile grew on her face as she saw him watching her. ‘Good morning, my darling Patrick.’ She reached for him and they moved together, their hands feeling each other’s bodies. Her little hand went unerringly for his erection. She knew it would be there. It always was. He pulled down the bodice of her nightgown, baring a lovely breast topped with a long dark pink nipple. The tip of his tongue flipped it back and forth. His lips closed around it and suckled at it. Her eyes drifted closed as she basked in the feeling of love and adoration she felt from this man. She felt him lift the skirt of her gown upward to bare her lower body to his attentions. His hand caressed her flat little belly then moved down to rub through the fine yellow hair on her mound. She murmured, ‘Please, Dear, Please kiss me there for a while, then I want you inside me.’ ‘Yes, Sweet girl, that is exactly how I love to start my day.’ ‘ And finish it too!’ He had always been.
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