musings of a woman in crush mode

He had been so close to her, she had felt his body heat radiating out towards her. She couldn’t take her eyes of his lips. Then he leaned forward and pressed them against her own with his scratchy stubble tickling her. She hadn’t much experience kissing. The only proper kiss she had ever had was from a man who thought that shoving his tongue down her throat and slobbering all over her face was the right approach. That was nothing compared to his strong and sure lips, parted slightly against hers.

God, she wished he would kiss her again. She’d hardly been able to think of anything else since last Sunday. On the way home she couldn’t stop her smile from overwhelming her. It was certainly a memory she would hold on to.

She thought of ways she would have responded differently. She would have been more relaxed, more enthusiastic and she would have leaned in and kissed him again, if only to prolong the experience. She wondered what it would be like to sleep with him. From the way he talked, she knew he would be demanding and rough, and it made her core tingle just at the thought. But she also thought he would be extremely good at slow and teasing. She would certainly end up begging for more.

If only he actually messaged her back. She didn’t know if he was interested, or if he thought that she wasn’t interested. Maybe he was just busy and she was being paranoid and over anxious about the entire situation. She generally got that way about such things. The waiting around was killing her and she was eager for more of him, even if it was just a hug, she knew that she would make sure he knew that she wanted him. She wanted his intimacy. Her lack of it made her unused to human contact and now that she’d had just a little bit, she craved more.

She’d never been much of a hugging person. The only person that she had ever felt comfortable hugging after the age of thirteen was her best friend Amy. It was probably because Amy never judged her. The other girl made her feel loved and comfortable in her own skin. He made her feel like that too.

If only he knew the affect he had on her. Maybe to him, a kiss was just a kiss; something that had lost its meaning with time and repetition. But to her, it was the world. She didn’t usually feel comfortable enough to let any person kiss her but he made her feel things. What things, she was still figuring out but one day she would know, and hopefully he would too.


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