So B and I continue to see each other. And it’s been positively awesome. We went to a local festival, which turned out to be pretty crappy and not what we thought it would be, but we had a great time together listening (and just a bit of singing) to a local band. (It was his birthday and when I found out – the next day – and asked why he didn’t tell me, that I would have planned something special, he replied, “It was my birthday and I did exactly what I wanted…I spent it with my kids during the day and with you at night.” Um…sigh.) We’ve met for dinner and drinks at cute cafes and restaurants. We talked and laughed and had fun.
And he kissed me. (And not on the cheek.)
Quick, little, sweet, innocent goodnight kisses at the end of dates. One, maybe two, kisses. So fast, these kisses, that I couldn’t even really prepare – or even pucker up. Fleeting kisses. Quick “friend” kind of kisses, these were. And I liked it.
But each time I wanted more; I knew I had to take control.
I texted that I had an idea, a concept, for our next date, but I would wait until we talked next to tell him the details. He called to find out more.
“Our next date,” I said, “needs to include more kissing. Not just goodnight kisses, but real kisses. I don’t know what we’ll do on the date or where we’ll go, but kissing needs to be part of it.”
There was a long pause then he said, “I was hoping you’d say something like that. Definitely.”
Due to schedules, it would be almost two weeks before that date. (That’s a long freaking time after just telling someone you wanted to REALLY kiss them…)
He invited me to his house for a completely unplanned/unscheduled night. We drank some wine, went to a little neighborhood restaurant for a quick dinner, then back to his house for dessert of port and fancy dark chocolates (um, yum…). We were sitting on uncomfortable stools in the kitchen, enjoying the treats, when we had a really weird, long pause in conversation. We were just staring at each other. In silence. I wanted to look away, but I felt like I always look away in these situations and if this date would EVER include my kissing idea/concept, I had to hold fast to his gaze. We joked about the rare conversational pause. Then he asked if he could just walk over and kiss me.
His arms embraced me, pulling me closer, and I reciprocated – arms around his neck, fingers intertwined in his hair. Our kiss started like the other ones – the quick goodnight kisses – but turned into something more. Lovely, passionate kisses in the kitchen. The kind of kissing that makes your breath quicken, your pulse race, and tiny little sighs escape from deep in your throat. The kind of kissing that makes you want much more…so much more than just kissing.
We moved to the living room, and even though it was a little weird being IN FRONT OF THE FRONT WINDOW (with no window coverings – WTF?), the kissing continued. Now combined with cuddling, and (slightly) roaming hands, and kisses that extend down the neck to ticklish places near the collarbone. Sweet kisses. Passionate kisses. Fast kisses. Slow kisses. Urgent kisses. Patient kisses. This went on for an hour or so before we both agreed we had to stop before things went further than we intended.
Ending the kissing and driving home was incredibly difficult.
It’s been a CRAZY long time since I’ve been kissed, especially REALLY kissed. I honestly can’t even remember the last time. Maybe more than three years? That’s a ridiculously LONG time… It’s ABOUT time.
I liked it. And I want to kiss B more. And I think I like B – a lot. And I’m pretty sure that the fireworks are starting…