How did I get to be thirty, and a mother, without knowing how to kiss?

You lie on your back, sweet and sensual and heavy lidded, and I kiss you.

Gentle, nibbling kisses.

I taste your lips, the tip of your tongue. Run my tongue over your teeth, and smile.

Arms wrapping tightly; yours around me, mine around you. Bodies pressing together, cleaving to one another - How close can we get?

I, in a mood for silliness, run my tongue across the underside of yours, and hear your gasp, and feel it with my whole body.

My mood for silliness is banished at a blow.

I do it again. Harder.

Oh gods, your reaction is sweet, sweet, and I want more.

I probe.

I dart.

I suck

You... you sound like me: gasping and moaning and only snatching breath when you simply must.

This is ecstatic. 

A warm hard piece of sensitive flesh thrusting in and out of a warm, wet, soft, delighted place.

I'm... I'm fucking your mouth. I don't know how else to say it.

I'm in control.

Your body is mine to play with, to steer, to bring pleasure to. I revel in it.

Suddenly something changes and I know what you want. My mouth flies from yours and envelopes your wet hardness and sucks firmly and licks fast and in two strokes you're coming into me.

In a moment I sit up, with a delighted smile lighting me from inside.

You hold out your arms and I cuddle against you.

I liked that.

I want to do it again

It was yesterday. It was beautiful. Jesus, I love her.

We were watching a movie on her bed. Sounds sketchy, I'm sure. But we've been best friends for the whole school year, though, so it wasn't quite as forward as it sounds. But there we were, watching Titanic on her laptop.

It was freezing in that bedroom, and as images of frostbitten seafarers bobbed across the screen, the temperatrue seemed to drop another ten degrees. She edged closer and closer to my arm, tears brimming in her eyes from that heartbreakingly sad movie. I'm usually quite warm to the touch, and she was always playfully stealing my body heat. She did that now, tucking her hands into the crook of my elbow.

When the movie was over, we were both close to tears. She squeezed my arm, which she was still holding, and closed the laptop. I rolled over onto my back, staring at the ceiling, getting close enough to her to feel her heartbeat, hear her breathing quietly.

She rolled over to face me, and kissed me gently on the cheek. We'd done that before. I turned to look her in her spectacular green-gray eyes, ran my hand up her arm and to her jaw, and kissed her firmly on the mouth. She whimpered as I leaned back from the kiss, then sat up partway, leaned over, and kissed me like I'd never been kissed before. I'm not sure what about it was so incredible, maybe just that it happened in the first place, but I know what I'll never forget about it:

My first kiss.

Her first kiss.

Somehow, despite our inexperience, it was beautiful and breathtaking and has taken its rightful place among the top 5 most passionate kisses of all time. Or at least in my book...