I felt his fingers first, gently stroking the back of my neck. The overpowering scent of his cologne came next as he drew in closer. I froze in anticipation of our first kiss. Lips finally touch. Hurried breaths are exhaled and curious fingers begin their urgent exploration. The sensation of each kiss dissolves like cotton candy on my tongue but I retreat. I summoned the will needed to temper the passion. Keeping my distance I deliver the news that, ‘it’s late’ with a knowing smile he takes the news in stride. When he’s gone my fingers retrace the path of his kisses and I know that our first kiss won’t be our last.
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I'm stopping as a member of Comment Speedway. Glad I found you and your article.