The Kiss.

It was a cold day in mid-February as we sat under the pavilion, my hand casually enfolded in his larger, rougher one. We barely said a word to each other, but instead looked out towards the bare trees, seemingly lifeless under the grey sky. I looked down at our hands, entangled in one another's and thought of all the times I had wished for this, all of the times I had hopelessly wanted to be only with him. And now, I was. It seemed as if it was a dream, as if I would awake any moment. He squeezed my hand and briefly ran his fingers along my jaw as his green eyes stared in to my blue ones. My heart was pounding so loud I thought the world could hear its sporadic, haphazard beat. Suddenly, our lips were drawn together like the poles of the strongest magnet, and although I tried to fight it, it was in vain. They met. I had kissed the man of my dreams! Yet, I felt nothing.

Reviews

[Mike L. Smyth]

I love this story! this is like one of the best examples of lust.
If you think of an ideal situation, it would be one person wanting to kiss or "love" another person because they look good, but once you reach that point, there isnt any sincere love.

I really liked this one!