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| Cinnamon_Tart |
on Fri 28 May 10, 10:40 AM to Cinnamon_Tart's blog.
The usual goodbye routine. She looks at her watch; he says, “You need to go.”
“Yep,” she responds. They have been sat here, on and off, with minor breaks to collect food from the village up the way, nip to the loo, meet and greet dogs erring from owners' pre-defined walks, for over three hours. Talking. Laughing. Eating. Smoking.
“Well I hope you have a good time on your little camping trip. Have lots of fun,” he smiles at her.
“Oh, I'm sure. Should be good.” She smiles. “Right, bye then, darling.” And she leans forward for the usual routine of several little kisses. Always on the lips, always eyes closed, both of them; she checks. But tiny kisses, pecks of affection and regard, not sexual, not…meaningful. Just downright good and a seal on the friendship whenever they meet and part.
This time is different. He kisses her. He lingers. “Bye.” He kisses her again, his lips lingering a fraction of a second longer. “Bye, then.” Lips tarry, and fingers reach inside her thin vest of a top, for her right nipple, pinch, she gasps involuntarily. “Bye,” he says again, his lips right on hers, and then she feels his mouth part, his tongue on her lips, just inside her mouth. Gentle, slow, exploratory, invasive, overwhelming and absolutely unexpected.
He kisses her, and she responds. She hears herself whimper oh so softly. His nails tweak ever harder on her nipple. She groans, turned on, unexpectedly, despite herself. She's aware she's already late. She finds herself pushing back from him. She's flustered, knows she is flushed, cannot quite grasp how the mood changed quite so quickly.
And he giggles at her, “Look at you!” and he turns the rearview mirror towards her so she can see herself.
“What? What?!” she says, that silly irrational girl fear thing of 'oh my god, what happened, is my nose running, have I food in my teeth, what?' All she sees is her face, her neck, upper chest. No food, no snot, but…she is rather pink. Rather pink indeed. And her pupils. Oh. Well…what does he expect she thinks….
“What did you do that for?” she manages breathily.
“Well, you started it!” he returns. He's touching her, smiling at her.
“I did not!” she retorts, blinking rapidly and holding his arm as if to steady herself. “I did NOT! I did no such thing!!”
“You did. You said in an email a while back that snogs were welcome. That I could repeat them.” He's nearly laughing at her, highly amused by the response he's generated. With almost minimal effort. She's still very flustered, verging on exasperated with him. She's late. School. Children. He's thrown her.
She looks at him. And remembers the email.
From almost a year ago.
Remembers him saying, after that first kiss, that he'd very much like to repeat the experience, sometime soon….remembers saying in return that that would be more than welcome.
What she doesn't think to say, until she is two miles up the road, having been so flustered, exasperated, and aroused…, is, “Well, darling, you've a rather strange concept of sometime soon….”
Edited Fri 28 May 10, 10:42 AM by Cinnamon_Tart
