Thursday, 18 March 2010

Mr Smith and the Kiss

After months of friendship, we were safely in each other's company at a party, after one too many double gin and tonics (that would be just two), Mr Smith and I were having a lovely time.  I felt buzzy, I felt naturally high.  We danced, we laughed, we kissed.

I kissed him.  Soft, gentle and with a small whip of tongue.  He returned my kiss with an sense of aggression, the good type.  Our tongues had more rhythm than our bodies had done moments earlier on the dance floor.

I was filled with lust and sadness. Lust due to it being an amazing kiss, the first of many that night, and sadness because at that moment I knew that my heart hadn't nearly hardened enough.

I got another drink from the bar, and let the destructive night continue.

Something changed, and to leave the details for another time, my defences returned and my negative qualities took to the helm.

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