My red, shiny lips do all the work. You get weak watching them glisten, hypnotized by every slow, deliberate lick, every whisper that curls into your ears. Give up the thinking, surrender that last scrap of control, and let my plump lips rewrite the way your brain remembers pleasure.
Keep your eyes glued and your hands obedient, because once I plant those words in your head they stay. You don't have to fight it anymore, baby, just worship the lipstick and enjoy being undone by a single kiss.