AND NOW, WE MUST KISS

Kissing is an art. It’s like the most beautiful picture, just waiting to be painted. And with that paint-brush reaching for that canvas in first taste, anticipation is of the bursting.

They say that you can tell so much from a kiss, and that a first kiss can either make you hold on that much tighter or indeed let go.

Yes. A kiss determines a lot of what happens in life and love. And no one knows this better than you.

You take his hand and look your question at him, a question of want, a question of appeal, as your eyes flutter down briefly from his gaze to stare at the lips that are so sensuously calling onto you.

There is a sudden swell of anticipation within you, a burst of light from inside that manifests from you in the form of a smile. You are staring and your own lips are curving into a smile, one so cheeky, it draws a smile from him as well.

“Why are you smiling?” he asks, even as he chuckles.

“Well…” you say, “because I’m going to kiss you. I mean, we have to kiss.”

His eyes widen a bit, betraying his startle at your audacity, and his smile stretches his lips further. His tongue slips out, a quick trip to moisten his lips, no doubt an idiosyncrasy of his. And you wonder, not for the first time, how something so innocuous can stoke so much fire in you.

“And why do we have to kiss?” he asks.

You look away in thought for a split second, as if to gesture that you cannot believe that he cannot see that it is a meant-to-be moment. And then you answer, “It’s in the way we met and how we connected straight away. It’s in the need that brought us together and the fearlessness that drives it. It’s in the way you’re looking at me and the way I can’t take my eyes off you. It’s meant to be. And it’s meant to be now, because now, here is all that matters.”

For a moment, there are no words further spoken. You both are simply content with staring at each other, your eyes ravaging your faces, hungry, wanting, needing to do this. You are breathing heavier as your intent strengthens. He licks his lips again and your heart is raptured again.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” you husk.

“What?” he breathes out, looking at you like he still can’t believe you’re not an alien, for all the gumption you have.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” you reiterate. “You don’t have to kiss me back. Just relax, breathe, close your eyes and feel me.”

He chuckles and doesn’t move away. He stays still, that slight smile still hanging on his lips. He seems expectant, which is all the ignition you need to move forward.

You understand that when beauty is the subject, a mixture of emotions serves best purpose to the experience in that beauty, and so you proceed to heighten his nerves, anxiety and yearning, all the emotions he is already feeling in waiting to be kissed.

You draw real close to him and breathe him in as your noses gently touch, and the exchange of heat in breath takes place as with opened mouths, you both inhale and exhale a whisker away from each other.

You move your head, your mouth traveling toward his ear, your breath fanning his cheek along the way. “Everything within me wants to kiss you. I’m compelled and no earthquake could move me from this position… A real kiss is an art… It’s like painting the most beautiful picture that lives and moves before your very eyes… I want you to paint with me…”

You can hear his heart thumping and his breath catch. His tongue has slipped out again to wet his lips as his eyes flutter open and shut, as though he cannot seem to decide how best to be to take in the swarm of sensations inside him. You are starting to feel the desperate lust pour from him like steam from a boiling kettle – an exact replication of your own need.

“Just kiss me already,” he growls.

“Wait…” you whisper back.

But he doesn’t listen. He moves his head around and attempts to claim your lips. You pull back, denying him the steal. You masterminded this plot. You are in control. You raise your hands to his face, moving your right hand to the back of his neck where you grasp and pull him gently toward you, while your left index finger slides and slips over and below his lower lip to lift his chin toward you.

“Kiss me…” His words carry to you in a moan.

And this time you are ready. You dip your head and your mouth embraces his, a contact he meets eagerly. You flick the tip of your tongue between his lips and he opens them wider to welcome your invasion. His hands creep down your body and lock themselves around your waist, pulling you closer. He forgets your instruction for him not to kiss you back and kisses you just as fiercely as you kiss him. Your lips are soon locked in a passionate embrace. Your tongues play, as you delight in the thrill of each other’s velvety lips, the warmth and wetness fueling sensations that travel all over your bodies, emphasizing the rightness of this moment.

You both kiss with passion in delicacy. You kiss on yearning in wanting. You kiss beautiful art in moving pictures.

You kiss him. And he kisses you back.

It is meant to be.

Written by Pink Panther