It was a brisk fall evening, and I was a bundle of nerves. My thoughts, a jumbled mess of anxiety and desire, bounced through my brain in a war with each other. The body that had carried me almost 37 years through this world was betraying me in little tremors. Whether it was from the nervousness or the craving that had been building for weeks, I could not tell.
From the first brush of his lips against mine, everything else fell away. Nothing else existed except this wickedly delicious man, and the lust now raging through every nerve ending in my body. Had a kiss ever devoured me so completely? Had a crash of lips and tangle of tongues alone ever brought me to the zenith of sexual delight before?
This was pure, undiluted, primal attraction. All passion with no expectations or promises. Unleashed, completely unashamed craving. Me as my truest self.
I had forgotten how much I loved to be kissed until that moment.
Forgotten how a pair of lips could leave me drunker than my favorite whiskey.
Forgotten that you could be kissed in such a way that the memory of it leaves you heated and aching.
It was like kissing the devil himself...him knowing the darkest corners of your mind where you hid your most longed for desires...bringing them to life in an explosion of need...and knowing you'd brave the fires of hell for just another taste.