Shape

Lipstick Lesbians

Beautycon was three days away and already the hotel Maya had checked into for the event was full of lacquered faces hobnobbing in every corner. She’d wanted to arrive early for this specific reason. As a mortuary makeup artist, her craft was regularly belittled, thought of as less chic, even demeaned by other folks in her industry. But Maya’s skill was a deeply particular one, a process that often involved layers of reconstruction, gels, gums, and prosthetic additions. Few other makeup artists could claim such a high caliber of finesse. Besides, the whole point was to make someone look emphatically like themselves so their families could view them and hold one last image of their loved one to heart. Her work went so far beyond the superficial. It was noble. And she hoped to connect with some people who might recognize that.

Being the makeup artist at a mortuary can be a lonely task. Unlike other makeup gigs she’d worked prior to being employed at Cedar Hills Mortuary & Receptions, the subjects of her services were not…animate, so besides brief pleasantries with the resident embalmer, Maya spent most of her day in silence. Being at Beautycon was a complete upending of her quiet day-to-day. The second she entered the hotel lobby to check in, a woman in a catsuit blew a cloud of glitter into her face. Drag queens, Instagram influencers, and industry veterans milled around with eyebrows arched at 90 degree angles, cheekbones diffused into luminous mounds, and skin so beat, blended, and contoured that it seemed too perfect for mere mortals. Maya made a beeline to the hotel bar. She was going to need some liquid courage before diving into this lion’s den.

She’d been worried that choosing a blue eyeliner for her look today would be too gaudy, too cartoonish. But one glance around her and she realized she was hopelessly unnoticeable in this crowd. Her navy blue pants almost dissolved her into the background they were so unremarkable, and her crisp button down finished the job. She sighed, stirring the Mai Tai she’d picked in a rush at the bar. This wasn’t exactly her scene. Maya took a sip and nearly choked on a piece of ice when a hand rested gently on her shoulder. She was coughing as she whirled around to see Gena standing there, hand resting assertively on a perfectly popped hip. Gena’s lower half was cinched into a bone sucking red pencil skirt, and Maya could just make out the outline of her high-rise thong. Some things never changed. But she looked good, Maya had to give her that.

 “Gena, holy shit. What are you doing here?”

Gena threw back a curtain of strawberry hair, sending Jessica Rabbit energy ricocheting throughout the room. Did Maya imagine every single person turning their head to check Gena out? Or was that just the effect Gena had over her? Her on-again, off-again fling of over five years, Gena certainly knew how to cast a spell in Maya’s direction.

 
 “Maya, baby. I work for Kylie now. I thought you would have known.”
  
 “Kylie?”  “Kylie Jenner?”
   

Gena widened her eyes at Maya and raised her eyebrows as though to say,  Duh, do you live under a rock? 

  
 “Oh. The lip zit thing.”
  
 “Lip kit, Jesus. Though skincare is all the rage now, so you might be onto something there.”

 
 

  
 Before she could register what was happening and stop herself, Maya’s eyes swept up and down the length of Gena, taking in her towering stature, the white halter top that held her opulent breasts snug and revealed the full circumference of her areolas, the hint of tummy that peaked out over the top of her skirt. Gena was grinning, and were those a new set of veneers? She’d always been riotously beautiful. Over the top. Beyond modelesque and into the realm of something almost alien, ethereal. Untouchable. Except she wasn’t. Maya  had  touched her. Many times. All over her pristine ass and the swell of her soft thighs and deep between them. And more remarkable even than that, was that Gena had touched Maya, too. Had wanted her. And…based on the smirk she was giving, perhaps still did?
  
 “Maya, two years ago when I last saw you, you were hauling corpses and filling in bullet holes with resin. Tell me things have changed, love. Tell me that formaldehyde isn’t still your  eau de parfum  these days.”
  
 Maya felt her back stiffen immediately. Gena could be caustic, but somehow it always made Maya want her even more. Especially when it was coupled with Gena leaning forward and smiling, licking her lips slightly. It took superhuman strength for Maya to not just dive straight down the passage of cleavage that was bending before her.
 
 Maya crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m incredibly gratified by my job. It helps people. In the most important way. I help people say goodbye. Makeup isn’t just for looking good so people will want to fuck you, you know.”
  
 “Yes honey, but in my case I help people say hello. Hello, Mama!” She shook her hips and a bit of the drink in her hand splashed onto the floor. Maya was familiar with this Gena. Drunk Gena. Horny Gena.
  
 “Maybe I’ll catch you later, Gena. And, the water’s over there. You should say  Hello, Mama  to some of that.”

 
  
 Gena pointed at her, wagging her finger up and down. “Well. On that note. Goodnight, Maya. Hope the crypt keeper doesn’t keep you from tomorrow’s festivities. I could use a reminder of your fun side.” She winked over the rim of her drink and skipped into the mass of people. Somewhere in a corner a compact exploded down the blouse of a Queen, and chaos ensued. Maya knocked back her Mai Tai and returned to her room for the night, silently resolving to give Gena exactly what she had asked for.

 
 

  
 The next morning Maya was more judicious with her look for the day. Something tight and slinky down below, white, and for her face, a pop of color. She selected an assertive, lemon yellow colored liner for her eyes, and drew the lines out in thick wings that swooped upward toward her brows. She added a dusting of robin’s egg blue shadow at the inner corners of her lids, and blended a shimmer of gold face highlighter along her cheekbones. She brushed and teased her hair into something more buoyant than her usual bob, and added a pair of chunky blue pumps. The entire effect was a bit outside of her comfort zone, but Gena was on her mind, and Gena had not come to play. And for that matter, neither had Maya.

  
 Because Beautycon had still not officially begun, all the attendees who’d arrived early were downing  mimosas at brunch and testing palettes over green juices. The vibe was that of a vacation, and if Maya knew anything about Gena, she knew she’d be getting an early start. She was proven right when, on her way to the breakfast place next door, Maya ran full force into a visibly intoxicated Gena teetering on impossibly high heels. The people on the sidewalk around them swerved to give the two a wide berth, and Gena clutched Maya’s shoulders for support.

 
 

  
 “Well look who it is! Almost as though something about us was written in the stars, isn’t it?” Gena snaked a hand into Maya’s hair, where Maya could feel her long acrylics scratching gently against the back of her head.

 
 

  
 “We’re staying at the same hotel, Gena. It’s not that weird to run into each other.”

 
 

  
 Gena puckered her lips and made a  shh  sound, placing one oddly tan finger over Maya’s mouth.

 
 

  
 “No. I’m a deeply spiritual person, Maya. This is fate.” She wavered slightly on her heels. “I’m setting up Kylie’s booth all this evening. Meet me there at eight? Nobody else will be around.” She winked coquettishly.

 
 

  
 “This is ridiculous. Beautycon hasn’t even started yet. The convention center won’t be open. How would I even get in?”

 
 

  
 Gena grinned. “Well, you’ll just have to find a way. Won’t you?”

 
 

  
 And against her better judgment, come eight o’clock in the evening, Maya did. It didn’t take much, really. Bribing someone for their convention badge was a snap, and once security thought she was Carlotta Mink, PR rep for Dashing Diva, the deal was done. She was meeting Gena. No backing out now.

 
 

  
 Maya found her bending under Table 973, her lavish ass pointed skyward as she tried to screw the leg of a table into its base. A behemoth cardboard cutout of Kylie Jenner in a pink power suit towered in a corner. Maya crouched down to her level.
  
 “Need some help?”

  
 Seeing her, Gena’s eyes flashed with something silver and nefarious. Bad girl. “Maya, love. I knew you wouldn’t disappoint.” She stood to get up and bonked her head against the underside of the table.

  
 “Ugh, shit. That’s not helping the hangover from brunch.” She stood, her skirt lifting and giving Maya a little peek at the space where her thighs receded into a dark V. Maya felt something inside of herself tremble.

 
 

  
 “Are you okay?” Maya reached over and placed a hand on top of Gena’s head, petting her. Her other hand hung awkwardly at her side until she decided just to go for it and rested her palm on Gena’s shoulder. Their faces were close now, only inches away. Maya could smell the sandalwood she knew Gena sprayed into her hair. She wanted to bury her face in the satiny tresses. The scent catapulted her back to the years they’d spent together. On. Off. Desperate, raw sex. The fighting. Maya’s jealousy. Gena’s thinly veiled lies. The unparalleled orgasms. They shouldn’t be together forever, no way. But here, now? Maya’s pussy was ringing with an ardent hunger that was impossible to dismiss.

  
 “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for asking.” Their faces were drifting closer, and before Maya knew it Gena was bending in and kissing her neck, letting her tongue graze against her collarbone softly. “Mmm. I remember that taste.” Gena licked her lips.

  
 Maya closed her eyes and arched her neck back, pulling Gena closer. Around them the room was emptying of all the reps who had spent the day setting up. Almost everyone was finished building their booth, or in Gena’s case with Kylie Cosmetics, a full-on bamboo cabana. Voices retreated and lights dimmed. They were alone.

 
 

  
 Maya slipped her hands upwards into Gena’s hair and whispered in her ear, “I want you to take me here on this floor.” Gena stood at least a foot above her, and to reach her face Maya had to pull herself up onto the very tip of her toes. Gena purred, then growled a low, guttural sound before kneeling onto the floor and pulling Maya down with her. Gena’s hands were pawing at her breasts, and she began sucking at Maya’s tits through the sheer white fabric of her dress. Maya had purposefully not worn a bra, and when Gena whetted the area with her tongue, Maya’s dark nipples began to show through the fabric. Her pussy contracted and swole in response. A trickle of wetness was slick between her legs. Maya kept telling herself she hadn’t come to Beautycon for this, was not only hoping to see Gena. But here they were, and of course Maya had known Gena would be here all along.

  
 Gena pushed Maya gently onto the floor and crawled on top of her. Her breasts swung heavy in Maya’s face, and Maya buckled upwards, trying to kiss them, but Gena pinned her down.

  
 “Someone’s eager. I’m going to have a bit of fun with you first.”

  
 A zip of electricity ran down Maya’s spine. She loved hearing that, and she loved it even more when Gena took control. Gena reached and pinned Maya’s hands over her head, and Maya responded by arching her hips upward, grinding her pussy against Gena’s thigh. Gena bore down, sending more force between Maya’s legs, making her spread them wider.

 
 

  
 Gena was tracing her tongue down Maya’s throat, over her clavicle, against the swell of her breast. She inched the neck of Maya’s dress down, revealing an erect nipple. She took it in her mouth, sucking, biting. Maya’s eyes roved to see if anyone remained, if they were in danger of being seen. A part of her hoped they were, that Gena and Maya’s resplendent fucking in front of a life size Kylie cutout would be witnessed by some lucky onlooker somewhere. It was just too ridiculous. A massive banner of slime coated lips floated over their heads, and the scent of a thousand perfumes wafted throughout the room. The harsh grain of the convention center carpet rubbed against Maya’s ass as Gena worked her skirt up over her hips.

 
 

  
 “Did you miss me baby?” Gena murmured as she began kissing the soft insides of Maya’s thighs. Her kisses turned to bites, little nips. Gena had always been a pro at riding that line. Pleasure. Pain. She brought it both, but no matter what she always left you wanting more. Maya mumbled something incoherent and writhed against the floor, letting the carpet rub her ass raw. Gena stroked the insides of Maya’s thighs and spread her legs as wide as possible. Maya’s panties were already soaked, and they clung to the outline of her lips like a perfect mold. Gena stroked her through the fabric with one finger.

  
 “Nice wax. Glad you’re not doing it yourself anymore. Never worked out very well, did it?”

  
 The slight dig turned Maya on even more, and she found herself wanting Gena to really go there. Bring the venom. Make it personal. Maya wanted Gena to talk shit and show just how well she knew Maya. To hit where it hurt?
You had to really know the core of someone to do that.

  
 “No, it never did. Especially that time you did it for me. Hope that wasn’t part of the qualifications for your new job.”

 
 

  
 Gena grinned. Was this hate sex? No, they were having too much fun. They were just sparring.

 
 

  
 Gena moved Maya’s panties to the side and slipped one finger into her, as deep as it would go. She twisted it back and forth, and Maya could feel the tip of Gena’s acrylic bumping against her cervix. A rush of pleasure-pain swam through the muscles inside of her, and when she closed her eyes and moaned, Gena bent down to eat her.

  
 Gena’s mouth worked against Maya’s clit, over her lips. She began my sucking gently, working Maya’s clitoris as though it were a small dick she was blowing. Up and down, harder, softer. Maya felt a surge of wet dribble down her ass crack. All of her was slick, singing. Nobody else had ever been able to build such an immense orgasm within her. With Gena the buildup was nearly as good as the main event, and Maya’s cunt was pulsing with waves of almost irrational pleasure.

 
 

  
 Gena’s tongue twirled in circles down Maya’s slit, and when she shoved her hands beneath Maya’s ass to raise it slightly, Gena began eating that too. Gena traced her tongue from Maya’s cunt, down the ridge of skin that led to her asshole and then lingered there. Sucking, lapping, feeding. Maya wrapped her legs around the back of Gena’s neck and each woman buckled, both of them riding against the other.

  
 Gena slipped two fingers into Maya now. Three. Inside of Maya, Gena was curling them upwards in a come hither motion, her nails tickling Maya’s G-spot. Four fingers. Maya felt her opening stretch around Gena’s hand and marveled at how the vagina could accommodate so much, could make space for such a breadth of things. Gena was buried in her up to her palm, and when she folded her thumb inward and Maya’s cunt swallowed the whole of Gena’s fist, both of them gasped and were still for a moment.
 

 This was a first for them, surprisingly. They’d done almost everything else, but this was new territory.

  
 “Look at us. We’re like one bound creature.” Gena was laughing, her head thrown back with red hair falling over her face. Maya began to rock her hips upwards, fucking Gena’s wrist and forearm. Suddenly, Gena got very serious, and she bent forward to hold Maya by the back of the head. Their eye contact was heavy-lidded and unflinching, an incredibly determined energy passing between them. Gena twisted her palm gently back and forth, and Maya could feel herself warming, vibrating, getting close. The skin of her pussy was stretched so wide her clit was riding directly against the inside of Gena’s wrist, its hood pulled back and all nerve endings radiating.

 

  
 Maya bit down on her own forearm, her jaws locked and teeth dug into skin with the urgency that comes from sensory overload. Her pleasure was so totalizing it was as though she needed to bring herself back to earth, remind herself of her body. She bit and sucked against her flesh, and when she felt herself starting to come, she tasted blood. Her body was rocking, torso and legs moving in one steady gait against Gena’s fist. Suddenly a gush of translucent fluid burst from her pussy and saturated Gena’s wrist and arm.

  
 Gena blinked, mouth agape. A few droplets of liquid were scattered
over her cheeks.

  
 “Holy shit, did you just -”

 
 Maya was panting. “Squirt? Yeah, I think I did! I had to have, right? That’s totally what that was.”
 

  
 Gena was giggling. Her hand was still inside of Maya, and when she pulled it out it shone almost iridescent with cum. “Was that your first squirt?”

  
 “Yes!”

 
  
 Gena bent down and kissed Maya’s cunt. “Bless you my child. Welcome to the club.”

 

  
 “Gave you a little facial there didn’t I?”

 
  
 “Uh, yeah, you did.”

 
  
 “Lemme finish the job then.” Maya sat up and began kissing Gena’s cheeks, her tongue flicking out in little licks here and there. She could taste herself on Gena’s skin, and this turned her on all over again.

  
 Maya took Gena by the hand, raising her up from the floor and pushed her gently backwards into the cabana. The thing was a display, sure, but something about the lighting and aura changed when they were inside. No longer were they surrounded by gray tiling and stiff carpet. Bamboo rustled gently and a plush pink couch greeted them. They fell onto it, Maya on top of Gena, with hands tangled in one another’s hair and legs wound tightly around each other’s pelvis. Gena moaned, reaching down to her sides to grab her dress and yank it over her head.
  
 She was wearing sheer red panties, and Maya bent down and licked her pussy through them. Gena groaned, shoving her hips upwards towards Maya’s mouth. Maya bit her pussy lightly, opening her jaw around the whole of it and pretending Gena’s cunt was a meal. By now Maya was starved for her. Her mouth was salivating, and an urgent yearning was settling in her stomach. Gena tasted of earth and seawater and musk, like the best parts of living condensed into one pocket of space. Her pussy was such a familiar territory that going down on her again felt like a homecoming, and the warmth of something akin to belonging spread throughout Maya. Was this love? Maybe. She definitely loved fucking her.

 While she lapped against the folds of Gena’s cunt and allowed her face to be fully buried in the swell of it, Maya’s mind traveled back to her job. She thought of herself at work, her friend the embalmer the only person she might talk to for hours on end. She thought of this convention and how her job was so different from the other makeup artists’ here, from Gena’s. As she nibbled and sucked and licked, and as Gena cooed beneath her, Maya considered herself and all of her needs. Was Gena one of them? Maya loved the quietude of her life, and Gena challenged that. But she was also a thrill. One Maya could never get enough of.
  
 Gena gasped and rocked her hips upwards. Maya could feel the muscles of Gena’s pussy contracting over her tongue, and knew she was coming. Gena’s legs shook, raising slightly off of the couch, and then collapsed downwards. Maya collapsed too, laying her head against Gena’s abdomen and breathing in the smell of her skin. They lay that way for what felt like hours, Gena running her nails through Maya’s hair and humming softly. Maya felt every muscle in her body release tension and relax, and she was only vaguely aware of herself drifting off before both she and Gena succumbed to the comfort of the moment and fell into a deep sleep.
  
 “Oh. My.  God.  Franny? Franny! They are  on  the pink couch.” Maya woke to an incredulous, inch long acrylic pointing at her face.
Remarkably, unbelievably, there was Kylie Jenner. The maven herself. Standing in front of the pink couch where both Maya and Gena were sprawled and bare-assed, clutching a diminutive dog in one am and baby Stormi in the other.

 
 

  
 “My cabana! My cabana! Is it damaged? Get them out! I’m not supposed to be seen! Nobody is supposed to be in the event space yet!” A flurry of activity ensued, involving both Gena and Maya being escorted by security out the wide convention center doors and into the harsh glare of the rising sun. It was early the next morning, and they’d just been 86’d by America’s richest sweetheart.

 
 

  
 Gena clutched her head with both hands. “Fuck. I am so fired.”

 
 

  
 “Well, maybe not? It’s not that bad. Maybe she just needs some time to cool off.”

 
 

  
 “Kylie doesn’t cool off.  None of those people do.”

 
 

  
 “I guess I wouldn’t know. All of my clients are dead. It’s much more simple.”

 
 

  
 Gena laughed. “God, whatever. That cabana got a facelift last night as far as I’m concerned.”

 
 

  
 “Yeah, we did pretty good.”
 Gena turned and looked at Maya, the rising sun glinting in her eyes and turning them to gold. “We always do.”