Blog 13

I kissed him for the first time last Thursday. Not the usual way, not the way we've kissed consistently since that first time he placed his hands on my face in May. This time I kissed him with my whole self. With everything in my soul begging to be merged into his as effectively as possible. I've always teased myself with a jittery tongue whenever his lips touched mine, but I let something slip sitting in that dark, serene room of the aquarium. To my surprise, he kissed back. His hands sliding alongside my cheek made me crave his touch more than I can describe. I was met with such surprise the first time that I leaned in again and felt his taste in my mouth. His adorable novice heartbeat carried through his body as the atmosphere intensified. His worry was visible every time I looked away before embracing him. Still, he didn't hesitate to ask for another kiss. And after that, another, and another, each one more outstretched and passionate than the last. He enjoyed it so obviously, despite his awkward silence and laugh between moments. I adored his strange rhythm, and his inexperienced intuition which he used to only do what his heart felt was right in the moment. I still feel that cute sour sensation in my mouth when I think of it; such an interlocking of intimacy that I was not used to cannot be fully explained in my own words. The pulling and pushing of tongues, the ecstasy that engulfed both of our figures as I felt more and more melted into his being as wonderful feelings enticed us. It was beautiful.