First kiss

All these years (almost 15) later, I can still recall the excitement and anticipation of that first kiss.

I don’t remember where we’d been earlier in the evening but we had ended up on my parent’s couch, watching TV.  He was sitting up and I was laying across his lap.  As time passed, I was trying to make it evident that I was more than open to him kissing me.  Scooting closer, looking up at him.  I should have just made the first move.  But the build up finally got to him.  He looked down at me and said, “I’m going to kiss you now, ok?”  I nodded.  I couldn’t have been happier.

Then his lips were on mine.  That electricity of the first kiss.  It was magic.  Soon we were falling into a rhythm of kisses and touches.  Learning about each other and unleashing the desire that had been building between us.  I was so happy we’d made this leap in our relationship.  I wanted to melt into him (his kisses still do that to me).  I wanted to stay wrapped in his arms forever.

But soon it was very late and he had to go.  I’m sure we did the shy-goodbye-kiss-after-the-first-kiss at the door.  I remember he sent me a message on the computer when he got home, telling me that he could still smell me.  I loved hearing that.  Ah, the delicious drunkenness of the first kiss – reliving the moment, recalling all the details, anxiously awaiting the next time you’ll be together.  New love is so intoxicating.

I treasure this memory.  Though we’re light years away from that first kiss, I still get a thrill each time his lips touch mine.  How lucky I am to be married to someone who excites me as much (maybe even more) now as he did back on that night many years ago.