That first kiss...

I don't remember it well, but I remember in the elevator I could feel the ache of wanting to hold and kiss him, I could feel him leaning and resisting to want to kiss me.. like to magnets at a certain distance not close enough to be glued to each other yet at a shivering distance shaking in anticipation of the attraction and what it may cause..

In the car, he approached me and held me and then gently, like a dream, his mouth drew my breath into him, the tenderest moment before the tiny gasp that tempts the tongues to dance a tango of love and lust. The headiness was a drunken stupor that I'd never experienced in youth from the real first kiss (which I barely remember) it was a tipsy feeling, the beginning of getting high, the eyes resist opening as if in knowledge of the real world staring right back at it, the heart not pumping but gliding at a melodic speed like an ice rink freshly swept.. before any skater laid their blades on it, creamy white... the ears hear nothing but the short breath intermittent with the butterfly kisses.

No it was not hunger nor thirst, it was a leisurely feeling of slow intoxication and wanting to lose oneself further in to this whirlwind highway to the stars.. his hands reach for my upper arms, my body was alert, he was expert enough to not reach for my nipples from the first kiss, my bod arched to him, aching for his nearness, I devoured his mouth and he mine, my hunger was from years of not feeling as alive as I did when he touched me.. I forgot that I can feel this way...I was dancing in my mind and in his arms, a dance of passion performed centuries ago as the tales were woven and the veils unfolded and the pants twisted...

I needed more kisses, I needed to catch up, I needed to tease him and turn him in to what he's turned me!! what I loved more was his amazing self control, that drove me further in to my drug-less state of the sublime...