The first time I kiss you I want you to be standing up. I want to press the length of my body to yours. I want to feel the goose bumps rise as I run my nails through the hair on your arms. I want to watch your head loll back when I breathe on your neck. I want to feel your heart pound; I want to see your veins pulse. I want to trace a trail from the hollow of your neck to the corner of your mouth with the tip of my tongue. I want to slide past your teeth and hear you moan when my tongue touches yours. I want to make you into a puddle. Then I want to lap you up.
First time, last time and all the times in between.
