His Kiss

Soft are his lips.
Gentle is his touch.
Beautiful are his eyes.
Melting me is his gaze.

I have thought of him.
I have waited for him.
I have wanted him, needed him and yearned for him.
I have dreamt of him, and found myself whispering his name while watching his shadow disappear into the night.
And then, he kissed me.

Soft are his lips.
Gentle is his touch.
Beautiful are his eyes.
Melting me is his gaze.

He kissed me a kiss that elevated my insides and left me breathless, honeychild I had dragonflies in my belly and everytime I inhaled my oxgen was his soft lips, and I was aroused in places I never knew could feel such deep emotion with just the hunger of his kiss;
the type of kiss that had my heart beating slow and my mind swirlin 'n twirlin.

He kissed me a kiss that made me moan and feel myself melt into his arms.
He kissed me till I was putty in his hands then he pulled away and looked at me.
He looked me dead in the eyes, teasingly bit his lower lip then pulled me into him again.
He kissed me and his lips were now more possessive and yet kiss was gettin-me-wet-in-certain-places type of soft and Oh my goosh, so sweet; and my nails for a moment dug too deep into his back because I felt his gentle moan against my lips as he bit my lower lip oh so painfully and gently but then again he might have liked it for at that very moment he inhaled so deeply he nearly sucked all the air from my lungs.

I leaned into the wall to keep from falling, but see, now I had a freezing sensation all down my drenched-with-droplets-of-sweat back and this scorching heat all over my stroked-and-stripped-and-touched-and-yearning front.
He kissed me and I; woman of weak resistance when being touched in the places he was touching and stroked in the regions he was stroking and held as tight as he was holding me and pinned against the wall the way he had me; I responded to his call, to his need, to his.....alertness....if you know what I mean.
He kissed me, and I felt layers of clothing melt to nothing and collect into a puddle at our feet as his kiss sang a slow let's-make-love type of lovesong to my lips and his hands played a complicated i-want-to-know-how-deep-your-lovin-is type of my melody on my near-naked skin.

Then he started kissing my neck; and even though all that remained of my clothes were just the skirt and the boots i felt a little overdressed for the occassion.

Soft are his lips.
Gentle, was his touch.