Kissing Her Lips

I ease my body down to lie down beside her and gently smooth my hand over the gliding mountainous curve of her hip. Her sleepy breath is gentle and somber, her eyes I know are closed even though all the light I see is amber from the candle across the room.

A pink heart paddle meets my mouth: heaven.

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She is near sleep but still aware of my presence. I want so much to kiss her.



The ripple in my stomach lets me know that the moment is heat and light, even in this darkness, even with her back to me. I let my hand rest in the valley of her waist, my fingers gently gripping her curve there. I lie my head down behind hers and rub my face in the swarthy cascade of her hair. She smells of lilac and baby powder, of fruit punch and of her own special scent; I breathe her in like a medicinal mist.



She speaks softly to me, her hand moving to lie atop mine,



"I know you're here with me. I can feel you really powerfully."



I giggle gently, biting my lip to stifle the sound of it in this silent haven. I don't speak and instead I kiss her jawbone. My lips feel her heat in that instant and I'm transfixed. I'm in my natural element and I know everything is right with the world that I touch her flesh with my lips.



She sighs audibly and grips my hand in hers; she shifts her body ore toward me and I slide my hand over her stomach with her movement. My breath catches and her eyes are like and owl's, so big and focused through the haze of the dark. She licks her lips before she speaks again,



"I know what you're thinking, I'm not scared. You're the one with the seeming dilemma."



I'm at battle with myself knowing that I'm afraid and I'm pierced through the heart that she knows this. I'm all comfort and love and butterflies with her and yet my conflict resounds. I've only loved a woman in sex, only loved her as an object of momentary desire.



This time I'm afraid to kiss her out of love. Real love.



Really loving a woman. Me, really loving a woman.



I repeat these self-made mantras to myself in earnest. What am I trying to do? Scare myself away from her? Make myself not desire her smell, her voice, her laughter?



I can't force myself straight.



Maybe its time to objectify men as my sex objects and actually let myself love a woman like I've been dreaming of for eight years. I'm afraid but her lips could be mine and it makes me sober up to my reality, to my opportunity.



I breathe out and bring my hand up to her face, gently stroking her lips with my fingertips. I follow the curve of them, enchanting myself. I lean over her face and my hair falls down around my shoulders, tickling her own as a mirror image to mine.



I look into her eyes and they smile, they invite and I'm petrified. Yet I keep going, I have a target to lock onto and I continue on.



Her lips are fire and softness, they envelope mine and I swear I can feel every soft line in them fit like a puzzle to mine. I bravely massage her bottom lip with my tongue and her response is like a wild fire. Her small arms wrap around my shoulders and she kisses me with a fierceness I thought unattainable in a girl. She has the passion that I have.



Kissing her lips is a fantasy of Arthurian proportions with light and wind and soft tinkling chimes. I'm taken and I'm swept and all that other rubbish all in one moment of bliss. I connect and she connects and I'm not afraid.



Everything is alright as I kiss this girl: in love.



Two girls kissing in bed, like two twins, their arms around one another and in complete rapture.



I'm not afraid.

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Three notes of news for you: Monday is my first edition of "The Monday Buzz", my all original product review segment, it should be pretty juicy. I can't wait!

Also: 

How do you like the new design? I edited it myself with a blogger template (heavily modified it) and also used a great graphic by DaPino, my new favorite designer! I'm all modern now. Woo! 

Also: 

HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY! 

YAY! WERE STILL FREE.....kind of. 

YAY ANYWAY! 

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