The Welcome Kiss
Her heart hollowly knocking in her chest, she messaged a new group of latin friends to organise drinks. The day arrived: her first outing with friends as a single person in the last 5 years; 8.5 if one counted the glitchy first relationship. She sighed and chose her long sleeve Superwoman crop top (not particularly cropped as she was not particularly tall) and jeans.
The first of the group to arrive was Cyrus. Their conversation began politely enough as they were still on the early stages of friendship. They never did get much chance to chat alone, but had seen each other at events. She spoke to Cyrus about her recent break up. The others arrived and soon learnt of her new status.
Conversation flowed. Another girl confirmed she too was now free of the burden of a relationship, yet she was quite enthusiastic in her requests for either of the two men to find her a suitably attractive companion, if not only for a summer fling. She loudly bemoaned her current situation with a man who seemed to have her around as a pet, without giving her the physical contact she craved.
A couple of hours later, the group, almost in synchronicity, left for secondary plans, leaving her discussing her plans to keep busy and explore her sexuality with Cyrus. She confessed her hesitation, mentioning she would start exploring with friends. Cyrus nodded, "I understand ". She noticed he stepped closer, coming into her 'bubble'. She was surprised at her calm acknowledgement at his interest; she usually panicked and broke the moment.
Music came on. They began to dance together, enjoying the music and how easily they flowed together, dancing, dipping, gently grinding as they salsa-ed to much applause and a few camera lights. Time flew as they danced and laughed, until the bar changed the music to something more mellow, couples moved off together, friends ordered another round.
As the bar was not far from her place, he walked her home. On the corner of her street, she thanked him for the evening.
As custom in England, she gave one, two... And his lips were on hers, his arm round her waist, pulling her close as his left hand found itself moving up along her spine to where her skull meets the top of her spine, sending shivers along her back to the nape of her neck. Her hands were on his chest, feeling his pulse quickening as she kissed back, suddenly hungry for more of his attention. His tongue found hers; she explored his with hers, inviting it to continue, more, more.
"Tu m'excites", he breathed into her ear. Her mind stifled a giggle as she internally laughed at the realisation she was kissing 'the enemy', having an ill formed preconception of the French due to her father's cold view of them, formed whilst he had attended the French Lycée, and her own disregard for the Francophone-side of her middle school. Of course, creating an enemy from exaggerated national characteristics was in jest.
Her amusement lasted seconds, as his lips were traveling from her neck back to her lips. Her hands were on his shoulders, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling her closer to his body, trying to find a way to close the gap between them. He seemed to concur, as his body pushed her up against a wall, his whole body craving hers, his hands moving to her exposed waist, his tongue exploring her mouth a little more excitedly.
She loved his attention; she was basking in the warmth of feeling wanted again. It had been too long... Her body was warming up slowly, coming back to life from years of neglect from her previous partner. Her fingertips craved touch, wanting to explore more of this new shape beneath them as she felt neck, his back, travelled to his chest, back up his neck, his face… She played with his hair... Something clicked. No, she wanted more, instinctively tightening her hold on his hair, something which clearly excited him.
He picked up her left thigh, which caused them to move from the wall to the glass window of the corner store. The ensuing bang gave them reason to stop, not least to check if she was hurt. “No”, she smiled, her lips curling up on the right, “But you really don't want to break the window and alert my folks to what's happening here."
He laughed, slightly breathless, "No, of course not. Imagine that conversation! 'Sorry, I was simply saying good night to your daughter and we fell through the window’…”.
She joined in with a short laugh, cut short by her hunger for his lips. His neck had an intoxicating smell which lured her tongue, eager as it was to taste him. She wanted to explore more of his body with her hands, letting him do the same, and, once again, they were intertwined. This time, she could feel his excitement against her.
He paused, panting ever so slightly from the rush and lack of a moment to breath.
"Ah...", he paused.
She felt he wanted to say something, so she offered to voice what she assumed he was struggling not to say, "Let's go back to yours".
He looked mildly surprised, then, surprising to her, sheepish responded, "No, I don't want you to rush something if you're not ready."
She paused to feel her gut instinct. It was quiet, it felt right. "No, I want to. Let's go."
"Are you sure? You don't have to."
"I'm sure. I want to." She assured him, as she closed her eyes to continue kissing him.
"Ah, hahaha, alright then," he mustered in between kisses, "but you'll have to give me a moment to call a cab, which means we’ll have to stop so I can grab my phone."
He laughed towards the end as she struggled to fully stop and not pout. He kept his hand on her waist, his thumb making soothing horizontal movements on her skin.
"The cab is on its way. You'll have to behave whilst we're riding there and keep your hands to yourself. Think you can manage that?" He smirked.
"I was going to ask you the same", she retorted.
His hands cupped her face, holding her head gently his way as he kissed her a little more slowly, breathing ever so slightly heavily from the effort of holding back. She too was out of breath. She looked at his face, his jaw line, his strong neck… She wanted to kiss and bite it. Why? She no longer cared, as her teeth found their target, followed by her lascivious tongue. Why did he taste so good? She nibbled his ear, returned to his neck, enjoying his heady scent, before returning to his lips, languidly draping herself against his strong frame as she did so.
The cab arrived and, as promised, they behaved on the way to his. She couldn’t remember the conversation, or if there had been one. In his flat they conversed politely: she asked about a broadsword he had lying about, he asked about her Superman t-shirt.
“Will you find it silly if I told you I needed some self encouragement to get myself dressed up and out of my house today?”
He smiled, his right hand on her left cheek, leaning in to kiss her. She took a step back as his kiss became more intense and found herself again up against a wall as he explored her midriff with his left hand. Her hands were on his face, kissing him back hungrily as her whole body pressed itself against his, eager to feel him against her. Her arms were tensing from the effort of pulling herself into him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, moved onto his chest, mapped the terrain of his back under her palms.
They were entangled again, kissing on his sofa, before he gently led her to the bedroom.
