I still remember that time we kissed.

There is little else more intimate than a kiss, yet it's perceived as something innocent. it's not the animal instinct of sex. it's more than that, just two lips kissing, merely brushing against each other. and yet it's so much more than that too

I remember it well. in the pub, and we'd been drinking and having a laugh, and with all my courage I pulled you into me, and gently, oh so gently, touched my my lips to yours.

I think i blushed and I probably apologised, as I always do. I'm sorry that I keep doing that. but you looked coyly at me, eyes down, and bit your lip, and then looked at me straight on, your cheeks flushed, and we tried again, but harder, and I felt you sigh.

even before I felt your tongue play against my lips and teeth, and could feel the heat and blood rising in my pants. Man, it felt good.

you'd gripped me tighter, and I pulled you in close, and that sigh escaped your mouth again, inaudible in the tastless music in the pub, but it was there.

we didn;t say much after that, but it lasted an eternity, and then we stood and looked at each other, and grinned.

I do remember that night, oh so well. and the kisses on the way back home after, in the alley. when you pushed me and nearly fell thru the shop window.

they were good times. and the fun that followed, no, not the fun, the love that happened after.... well that's a different blog...

x x x x