Bomme

So you cannot ask and you cannot beg and telephathy is clearly not working. You feel wretched and hopeful and desperate and aroused all at the same time. And then she stops and leans her head to one side. As if she heard your thoughts, loud and clear. She leans in, her mouth just open, lips just parted. You can see the warm wet pink of her tongue behind her small sharp teeth, all framed by lips so full and soft and deep red that they appear to be a world unto themselves. Time slows to almost nothing as you watch, her eyes half closed her chin tipped up to equalise your heights. You want to jump, to pounce like a tiger in ambush on those blood red lips. It’s been well over a month since you met her.

A month of longing and waiting and hoping. A month which included one brazen outright request. “Please Miss, may I kiss you.” All she said was “No.” She gave no reason. She has explored almost every inch of your body, has probed and slapped and squeezed but never kissed. You struggle to remain in the moment, in the here and now, because you want to be fully present when it happens; when her lips actually make contact. You force yourself to breathe , to reamain conscious, not to drown in the vivid image approaching you.

And then it happens, the last few atoms that separate her from you are extinguished and she is touching you, only just but it has happened. Her lips are on yours, her hands are caressing your neck. You dare not move. It might break the spell, she might change her mind, “Please God, don’t let her change her mind”. Inside your head sparks are flying, neruons are firing, your brain is almost overloaded as the pressure from her lips increases on yours. You cannot loose control now, she has not given permission for that, you have to exert all the power you have to stay soft, well not soft, not soft at all but not near the edge, not over it.

She gently bites your lower lip, you shudder involuntarily as she increases the pressure and sucks. Her hand creeps up your back, you gasp as she digs her nails in, there is no sound as you have gasped into her mouth. She keeps her lips on yours as she drags her nails down, you silently scream into her. She seems to gain strength from your pain. You know tomorrow there will be marks, have to cancel swimming again, such a small price to pay.

Her hands are tightening the caress is becoming something more, pressure both on your lips and your neck, either side of your windpipe. You can only just inhale through your nose, your mouth is hers, your lips are crushed by hers. You do not know if you are her lover or her victim and whether the distinction matters. The pressure increases and your head feels full to bursting with pleasure or is it pain or have the two just blurred into one completely new species. If she could just hold you here. You would give anything to remain in this special twilight world she is creating just for you between the conscious and oblivion. She is shaking and her lips tremble against yours as she shivers her hands remain, time still slows.

The kiss may have lasted a minute or an hour, you do not know. All you know is you do not want it to end, you do not want her to let go to release you back into the wild, death would be the preferred option if you were given a choice. But she cannot hold on any longer, she releases her grip on you, her hands drop to your chest as her lips peel away from yours. Every one of your senses is screaming at the abrupt departure, you want to grab her hands and put them back, to beg even at risk of a blow. She looks down at her hands on your chest. They are wet with your tears.