The First Kiss 7

It's always been her. Just her. I wanted her.

The story could end there. Nine simple words say everything I have wanted to say.

I.

Wanted.

Her.

I am not a believer in love at first sight. Nothing in life is that easy. Lust at first sight. Not even a believer in that. What I wanted was beyond lust. Beyond love. Beyond.

I.

Wanted.

Her.

She knew it. I am not sly enough to hide how I felt in that moment, practically melted into the thought of her in my arms. Touching her naked pale skin, kissing that secret spot on the back of her smooth, tender neck. Sliding my fingers through her long blonde hair as she brought me to climax. Me, watching her cum as I gently massaged her clit while burying my tongue in her sweetness. I told her within minutes of meeting her. I have been told I could be a little too direct!

Friends. She responded with "friends." I hate that word. Friends. What does that even mean? She had no problem defining it. No touching. No nakedness. No flirting. No trailing my tongue up her tender sweet thigh and slipping it into her pussy making her moan in absolute pleasure while I devour her. Friends. Friends. Friends. Stupid word.

We were going on a year of friends. I had kept my promise to her, that I would not make the first move. The touching had been kept to a minimum and the flirting had completely stopped when it made her uncomfortable. Devouring her was kept in my dreams only.

Being friends was fun, we shared our histories, our pains, we shared drinks and food and secrets. She was as beautiful inside as she was outside. I had put it to rest. She would never want me in the way I wanted her.

Friends.

Friends it was.

Forever.

She was better to have in my life as a friend than to lose completely. I moved on. Ok, I tried to move on. No one was like her. But friends don't bring each other to climax.

Then the night of the party happened.

We walked past each other on the stairs by the front door. I was going up and she was going down. A smile, a nod, I brushed her blonde hair off her shoulder softly sliding my fingers across her neck. I said I kept touching to a minimum, I never said I was perfect.

"Kiss me," she breathlessly whispered.

I made it up two more steps before what she whispered hit my brain. I stopped. Frozen. Turned towards her and started stepping back down, towards her. She had stopped and turned towards me at the bottom of the steps. She looked up at me with nothing but desire in her eyes. I knew she was not drunk; she had just arrived at the party. I was not drunk. This was a fair game. She had started it, my promise held true.

I stepped one more step down as she backed into the closed door. Her eyes never looking away from mine. Her lips slightly parted as her tongue slipped onto her bottom lip and she pulled it into her mouth, grasping it with her teeth. I damn near moaned just watching her.

One more step down. She let go of her lip, releasing it back to its gorgeous resting place. She could not back up anymore but shuffled from one foot to the other.

Step down, only one more until I was even with her. I bit my own lip. Everything around us disappeared. I saw only her. Her hair slumped onto her shoulders, her eyes the color of melted chocolate, her lips thin and firm glistening from where her tongue had touched them. Her jawline begged to have a thumb run from her ear to her chin.

Step down and I was less than 3 feet from her. The smell of her cologne entered the air. Whiskey and vanilla. I had memorized the smell the day we met. She wore it only on special occasions. Only when she wanted to be noticed. Only when she was feeling blue and needed a little reassurance. She would never ask for it, you just had to notice the slightest changes in her demeanor.

One step closer and I reach my hand for her waist. It is slender, firm, and warm. Her skin is soft as silk, and I pull her slightly towards me. She inhales deeply. I have never touched her so intimately. She leans towards me. God she was intoxicating.

I step into her personal space. Our feet easily find their spaces, our hips nearly touching, my hand still on her waist, our chests heaving with desire. I slide my left fingertips up her arm, over her elbow, up to her shoulder. I slide my thumb softly along her jawline and gently grasp her chin. Guiding her head ever closer to mine. I stop centimeters from our lips touching. Our eyes still locked onto each other; we have never looked away from each other.

She leans into me. I let her make the final decision to collide with each other. Her lips are soft and warm. Her hands find the back of my neck and pull me firmer into her. My hand leaves her jaw and wraps itself into the back of her hair pulling it just tight. A whimper slips from me as she pushes into me harder. I squeeze her waist and bring our bodies closer together.

Time stops as we release the word friends into the past.

We parted, slowly and reluctantly. There is a party right behind us and neither are ready to share what happened in this moment. This is our secret.