I loved your lips, and the things they did to me.

I loved their shape as they formed the words describing what you were going to do to me.

I loved the feel of them as they pressed against mine, making my blood heat, my heart race, and my pussy dampen.

I adored how they hungrily consumed every inch of my body, making my head spin, and my thighs quiver.

But now I can’t listen to the lies that fall freely from them. Or have them touch me when they are stained the slightest pink from lipstick that’s not mine.