We are meeting for the first time.
We approach each other slowly-- perhaps a little shyly. We stop a short distance apart and stare into each other's eyes. I put my hands on your upper arms. You smile and I start to draw you toward me.
Only inches apart. Still staring. You sigh and smile, anticipating. I lean forward and begin to draw you the last inches to me. Our lips touch, warm against warm. Your eyes close. One hand pulls you against me. The other hand craddles the back of your head, fingers in your hair. Your arms go around me. Lips obep slightly. Tongues touch . . .
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