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^布丁娃娃^
To tell the truth, I'm not an expert in kissing. When I was asked before by the girls in my dormitory to teach a creative kiss, I always had nothing to say but, at the end of thediscussion, pretentiously indicated my "qualification" by saying "ehhh…I kissed a guy. And that is my most memeorable moment." As a matter of fact, however, I had never been kissed, until, last summer.
It was a hot summer evening. The air was stuffy and muggy. No blows of wind, no drops of rain. I came to his apartment bybicycle, wet with sweat. It was dark inside the room. The light might have been turned off to cool the room, I presumed. He was packing a large suitcase when I entered the room.
"Hi, Nicole, come up. Give me a hand!"
Staring at the suitcase, large enough to take everything of his, including himself, I couldn't help my hatred for that ugly box. It was the very suitcase, the dammed odd thing, that would take my beloved man away from me, forever perhaps. Oui, c'est ete le temps pour partir. He was going to France for further study. I knew, probably, he wouldn't be back. For whom? Je n'a pas su. But not for me. He even hadn't known how much I cared for him!
Finished packing, I said "I'm leaving", trying to run away from him as soon as possible, as fast as I could. After all, fool from the beginning as I was, I didn't want to be a failure to the end.
"Stay. Just for a while. Wanna coke or water?" begged he, to my surprise.
I said coke and he quitted. For a moment I was standing before the window, seemingly waiting for my coke, but actually hesitating whether I should, or not, confess my affection to him, even before his "could-be" permanent departure. The white curtain (though I couldn't see it in the darkness, I knew its purely whiteness had been always of a magic appeal to me) was pushed against themselves and against the wind. A blow of mild breeze which I didn't expect on that boiling evening, was embracing me in her arms, comforting my vulnerable heart and drying my wetting eyes.
The whole room was dead silent. Why didn't he come back? There was neither voice nor steps but, the sound of silence. I turned back against the window, ready to cast a last look in darkness at the room which had brought me so much——bright talks, jokes and sad stories. But, what's up? I could hardly see anything which I could recognize their shadows in darkness just now. Am I blind? I guessed so, completely blind.
"No." A voice surged into my ears, the deep, full voice which I would always identify was just coming to me under the soft breath. A figure that I would always recognize was straightly staning before me.
Slowly and gently, he held me into his arms, lowered his forehead, trying to search mine. My ice-cold forehead was, successfully and joyously, touched, warmed and fondled by his, and on and on. The soft hot wet lips of his swept lightly from my forehead, and to my cheek, and to my nose point, and enfin, to the responding place of my lips. He pressed his mouth to mine so hard that I felt his big front teeth, shared in the peppermint taste of his saliva and enjoyed the lemon odor of his after-shave lotion. My innocent mouth melted under the ferocious pressure of the dark male jaws. He called me "baby", said "you never know how much I love you," and offered me my favorite coke by feeding, with his lips, to mine. What an ice-cold intoxicating liquor! And what an ardent tongue of his! At that moment, I was a lost girl and he was an explorer, trying to explore all the treasures in the virgin land of my lips. I was so ignorant and he was too knowing, knowing how to handle such a subtle but exciting situation. I was a learner and he was a teacher, showing me how to offer the warmest place in my heart for him. I was a daughter and he was a father, a dream dad protecting his dream daughter. His caress never stopped, working magic on my arms and loin. The music of the night never stopped as well, from George Michael's "Last Christmas" to " I want your sex". The souls were never separated, and rather beat as one. And my heart, down and up, up and down, never restored to its regular rhythm.
It was a hot summer evening. The air was stuffy and muggy. No blows of wind, no drops of rain. I came to his apartment bybicycle, wet with sweat. It was dark inside the room. The light might have been turned off to cool the room, I presumed. He was packing a large suitcase when I entered the room.
"Hi, Nicole, come up. Give me a hand!"
Staring at the suitcase, large enough to take everything of his, including himself, I couldn't help my hatred for that ugly box. It was the very suitcase, the dammed odd thing, that would take my beloved man away from me, forever perhaps. Oui, c'est ete le temps pour partir. He was going to France for further study. I knew, probably, he wouldn't be back. For whom? Je n'a pas su. But not for me. He even hadn't known how much I cared for him!
Finished packing, I said "I'm leaving", trying to run away from him as soon as possible, as fast as I could. After all, fool from the beginning as I was, I didn't want to be a failure to the end.
"Stay. Just for a while. Wanna coke or water?" begged he, to my surprise.
I said coke and he quitted. For a moment I was standing before the window, seemingly waiting for my coke, but actually hesitating whether I should, or not, confess my affection to him, even before his "could-be" permanent departure. The white curtain (though I couldn't see it in the darkness, I knew its purely whiteness had been always of a magic appeal to me) was pushed against themselves and against the wind. A blow of mild breeze which I didn't expect on that boiling evening, was embracing me in her arms, comforting my vulnerable heart and drying my wetting eyes.
The whole room was dead silent. Why didn't he come back? There was neither voice nor steps but, the sound of silence. I turned back against the window, ready to cast a last look in darkness at the room which had brought me so much——bright talks, jokes and sad stories. But, what's up? I could hardly see anything which I could recognize their shadows in darkness just now. Am I blind? I guessed so, completely blind.
"No." A voice surged into my ears, the deep, full voice which I would always identify was just coming to me under the soft breath. A figure that I would always recognize was straightly staning before me.
Slowly and gently, he held me into his arms, lowered his forehead, trying to search mine. My ice-cold forehead was, successfully and joyously, touched, warmed and fondled by his, and on and on. The soft hot wet lips of his swept lightly from my forehead, and to my cheek, and to my nose point, and enfin, to the responding place of my lips. He pressed his mouth to mine so hard that I felt his big front teeth, shared in the peppermint taste of his saliva and enjoyed the lemon odor of his after-shave lotion. My innocent mouth melted under the ferocious pressure of the dark male jaws. He called me "baby", said "you never know how much I love you," and offered me my favorite coke by feeding, with his lips, to mine. What an ice-cold intoxicating liquor! And what an ardent tongue of his! At that moment, I was a lost girl and he was an explorer, trying to explore all the treasures in the virgin land of my lips. I was so ignorant and he was too knowing, knowing how to handle such a subtle but exciting situation. I was a learner and he was a teacher, showing me how to offer the warmest place in my heart for him. I was a daughter and he was a father, a dream dad protecting his dream daughter. His caress never stopped, working magic on my arms and loin. The music of the night never stopped as well, from George Michael's "Last Christmas" to " I want your sex". The souls were never separated, and rather beat as one. And my heart, down and up, up and down, never restored to its regular rhythm.
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