Friday, 28 August 2009

When a kiss is just a kiss

At a bar on Sunday night, I got speaking to one of the musicians. We had loads in common, and couldn't stop laughing, we headed to my hotel and then my room. He seemed keen to hang out but I couldn't detect if there were any more to it than that.
Back in my room, I put on some music, quiet enough set a mood, not too loud to annoy/alert the neighbouring room. He kisses me. And nothing. No spark. No loin quiver. Nothing. We laugh awkwardly and carrying on with the conversation. We slept in my hotel room, playing word games and sharing dreams and desires but nothing more than that one kiss. It was like our lips didn't work together.
In the morning I furnished him with a toothbrush (a spare unused one I had picked up on a recent flight) and sent him on his way.
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