We kiss deeply with the eagerness and enthusiasm that I’ve always been lucky enough to have, combined with George’s relaxed pace that is a newer revelation. It’s to die for. I wonder why I always used to be in such a rush! Kissing was just a step, or even an obstacle, on the road towards sex: almost perfunctory, like unlocking a door. The unlocking wasn’t important, only what was revealed when you opened it. Nowadays, though, this is part and parcel of the whole thing. Sex doesn’t start where kissing ends. Kissing is sex and sex is kissing. All steps in the exact same dance. The wet, soft, sensual pleasure of his tongue against my lips and the small moans and sighs he lets out as I stroke his exposed skin at the neck of the dressing gown: this is not something I want to rush. He grips my legs and strokes too—enjoying the subtler pleasures of skin-against-skin. This is a man who knows he doesn’t need to hurry to get my clothes off. He tells me “oh yes” as I kiss his neck, and—deliciously—I can feel the pulse of my heart beat in my crotch where I press it against him. That yearning thud gets faster as our kiss grows more intense..... Read more

Crap

Greattestman:
Crap

not for children like you