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.