#marking my territory

twcgentleman13:

“Those who’ll play with cats must expect to be scratched.”

— Miguel de Cervantes

I know it’s terribly wicked of Me, but the minute a married man specifies “no marks” or otherwise indicates skittishness about having anything done to his body that will betray his infidelity to his wife, I immediately long to do something that will do precisely that.  Or at least make him damned nervous about exposing himself around her.  Magic markers to scrawl My signature across his ass or above his cock, scratch marks on his body, hickeys…and of course the telltale trace of lipstick.

Had a moment of fun with that the other day after I’d kissed The Romantic thoroughly, some of My red lipstick staining his mouth.  I’d warned him that he needed to wipe it off before we went out.  He shrugged and forgot about it.  A half hour later, he called wifey, using the technological miracle that is FaceTime.  I watched in horror as he spoke with her and the connection went down abruptly.  “Lipstick!” I yelled.  He turned a little pale and grabbed his handkerchief to wipe his face.  “I think her phone just died,” he said.  “She never charges it.”  Then he looked at the handkerchief and sighed.  “I’ll have to throw this away,” he said.  She called back a few minutes later.  “Your phone die?” he asked.  “Yes,” she said, and their conversation resumed.  After she hung up, we looked at each other, both wondering if she had noticed the difference in the rosiness of his mouth.  But she long ago told him he could do anything and the door would never be shut to him.  The door that leads to a sexless marriage.

Truer words were never, ever spoken.