kisses

Kiss me," he growled."I shouldn't_""I. Don't. Give. A. Damn."Well hell. My lips touched his__arely. I pulled back and looked at him__nfamiliar, dangerous, and so exciting. I devoured his mouth without thinking. Don't think, just touch. I ran my fingers across his strong shoulders and down his arms. His skin felt hot under my hands, his body hard. He sucked in his abs so I could get into his pants, if I wanted to. I slid one hand over his stomach and under his jeans, touching his hard cock, smiling when he groaned.

Sing me a love song in a slow, southern drawl to the tune of sunny days...

We should live, my Lesbia, and loveAnd value all the talk of stricterOld men at a single penny.Suns can set and rise again;For us, once our brief light has set,There's one unending night for sleeping.Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred,Then another thousand, then a second hundred,Then still another thousand, then a hundred;Then, when we've made many thousands,We'll muddle them so as not to knowOr lest some villain overlook usKnowing the total of our kisses.(Translated by Guy Lee)

She wanted to claw the memory of their night together out of her brain, but she couldn't disremember.Or stop thinking about his tongue, the way he kissed and caressed her, almost like he wasn't a monster.

She shook her head, and closed her eyes. I felt her weariness then, and with it, my own. I felt it dark and heavy upon me, darker and heavier than any drug they ever gave me - it seemed heavy as death. I looked at the bed. I have seemed to see our kisses there sometimes, I've seen them hanging in the curtains, like bats, ready to swoop. Now, I thought, I might jolt the post and they would only fall, and shatter, and turn to powder.

I said he kissed me. Really kissed me. It rocked me to my soul. It was brutal. It was brilliant. It was horrible. I thought I was going to die.

And his eyes were fluttering shut, and his sinner__ smile- that wickedly wondrous thing- was less than an inch from mine. And soon enough, there was no space between them at all. He tasted like chances.

He kissed me hard and I kissed him back harder, like it was the end of an era that had lasted all of my life.

These kisses... they were confessions. Tastes of everything she had stored inside her. Everything she could give a man if he was brave enough to accept. Kiss by kiss, she was baring herself to the soul.

Ah, in those earliest days of love how naturally the kisses spring into life! So closely, in their profusion, do they crowd together that lovers would find it as hard to count the kisses exchanged in an hour as to count the flowers in a meadow in May.

There is strange, and yet not strange, is the kiss. It is strange because it mixes silliness with tragedy, and yet not strange because there is good reason for it. There is shaking by the hand. That should be enough. Yet a shaking of hands is not enough to give a vent to all kinds of feeling. The hand is too hard and too used to doing all things, with too little feeling and too far from the organs of taste and smell, and far from the brain, and the length of an arm from the heart. To rub a nose like the blacks, that we think is so silly, is better, but there is nothing good to the taste about the nose, only a piece of old bone pushing out of the face, and a nuisance in winter, but a friend before meals and in a garden, indeed. With the eyes we can do nothing, for if we come too near, they go crossed and everything comes twice to the sight without good from one or other.There is nothing to be done with the ear, so back we come to the mouth, and we kiss with the mouth because it is part of the head and of the organs of taste and smell. It is temple of the voice, keeper of breath and its giving out, treasurer of tastes and succulences, and home of the noble tongue. And its portals are firm, yet soft, with a warmth, of a ripeness, unlike the rest of the face, rosy, and in women with a crinkling of red tenderness, to the taste not in compare with the wild strawberry, yet if the taste of kisses went , and strawberries came the year round, half of joy would be gone from the world. There is no wonder to me that we kiss, for when mouth comes to mouth, in all its stillness, breath joins breath, and taste joins taste, warmth is enwarmed, and tongues commune in a soundless language, and those things are said that cannot find a shape, have a name, or know a life in the pitiful faults of speech.

All right, Chris, you've given me a breather. I'm prepared foranything.And thank you for saying all of that, and for loving me, for youhaven't gone unloved, or unadmired, yourself." I kissed him quickly onthe lips, and told him to go on, to hit me with his knockout blow."Really, Chris, I know you must have something perfectly awful to tellme-so out with it. Keep holding me as you tell me, and I can standanything you have to say.

Rini moved in to kiss him, but on his cheek. She gave him two pecks on his right cheek and one more on his left, which caused him to blush. __hree kisses, huh?__he beamed at him and nodded when she explained, __o_ Faith, Hope, an_ Charity.

Not that kind of cheating," Mags said. "More like...skipping ahead. If you like someone, you should have to make an effort. You should have to get to know the person--you should have to work for that first kiss.

The kiss is the greatest of gifts, a miracle, uniquely human. A kiss beneath the mistletoe. A kiss after midnight. A kiss before dying. The devil's kiss. As a picture tells a thousand words, so a kiss says everything that's important. I am told prostitutes never kiss their clients. It is too personal, too human. We kiss to say I love you. We kiss the rings of the self-important. The feet of conquerors. The rich dark earth when we reach the promised land. We kiss our hands and wave as loved ones begin a journey. We kiss strangers before dawn in the first hours of a New Year because our wintry lips are incomplete until they are oiled by a kiss.

I miss more loving someone so deeply that I can't imagine a forever without her kisses.

It was just a quick touch of his lips and it left her breathless, as always. In that moment his kiss infuriated her. This was only supposed to happen in the movies! It was a feeling designed by books! She wasn__ supposed to feel her lungs seize and butterflies were not supposed to run rampant in her stomach, just because a man pressed his lips to her lips

My lips and eyes and heart were stinging when you kissed me in the dark. _ Jack Garton to Jennifer Hammer, 2008 (age 24)