It Was Only A Kiss Song Novels & Stories

In the bus a slow romantic song played, a love song that played with her emotions. She sighed and listened to it. She replayed the whole scene. How their tongues parted and how good he was. If he hadn't pulled away. The kiss would have been so damn good. She never imagined her first kiss would be something unexpected and out of the blue. "How did I know how to kiss?" She touched her lips and covered her mouth. She tried so hard to pucker her lips but she failed. She remembered the whole scene in bits. She played it so many times that it started to fade in her head.

It was the most tender kiss they shared. “I love you Maya Asher.”

No matter how badly I want to rip his fucking pants off right now, I’m not that person. “It’s fine.” He softly says. His deeper-than-normal voice sounds like sex to my ear. Stepping back, I wipe my lips and glance toward his midsection. The ‘million-dollar’ kiss has created a very noticeable bulge in his pants and now I feel even more horrible. That bulge in his pants is the risk anyone takes when kissing someone. Getting turned on during a kiss does NOT mean you have to fuck them. “Is this goodbye?” He asks. His tone is curious and deep. “Or see you later?”

Marigold replied with a sarcastic laughing emoji, followed by a stack of documents—Chester's years of bank transfers, the insurance policies he purchased, and a record of Florence transferring 300,000 dollars to the truck driver's wife under the guise of personal compensation. Marigold was the friend who had worked at a bank. These underhanded dealings didn't escape her scrutiny. The truth quickly hit me like a bucket of ice water. Marigold said to me, "Ivy, I've been waiting for you. If a man breaks your heart, come back to me. Let's spend our lives together." We had known each other for over two decades, and she often joked like that. Back then, I would laugh along and tease her, saying, "

"Now tell me, Candy, how much do you want me to kiss you?" My heart fluttered. I couldn't find my voice for a moment. His eyes were so intense, so focused on me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. And in that moment, I was more than certain I was. "So much." I finally whispered. "I want you to kiss me so much." That was all he needed to hear. He lowered his lips to mine, and this time the kiss was not fast at all. It was slow. Deep. Like we had all the time in the world, even though we both knew we didn't.

I want to kiss you. I leaned closer and brushed my lips on her lips softly like a butterfly winds long enough to feel each other's breaths and started kissing her lips. I felt the warmth in my heart and the sweetness of her lips. She opened her sealed lips and let me in. We kissed for some time. I forgot everything besides the kiss. It felt like we're the only ones being here. The kiss was warm and gentle. I parted after kissing her upper lips. "T-The concert." "Y-Yeah."

he promised, before kissing me tenderly. **Song Suggestion: Can We Kiss Forever by Kina** His lips parted mine, lightly licking my lower lip, but never entering my mouth. The heat of his hands traveled up my back slowly, resting between my shoulder blades as he pulled me closer. His chest and my own were touching, pressed against each other tightly. My breasts were threatening to spill out of the top of my dress from the pressure of it. Davis let my lips go, trailing kisses down my neck as he gently pushed me back, and laid me down.

As in kisses, there was something too powerful, too irresistible. The radio caught my eye, one of those girl band songs. A vocalist asked how to know if her man loved her. And the answer was: It's in his kiss.2 How bizarre this song plays right when I'm thinking about Mark's kiss. I should change stations until I find “What's love got to do with it?”.3 Annoyed, I crossed my arms and tried to ignore the stupid music. Mark reached over and turned off the radio.

And I can never be this happy again without her. “Katherine. I’m in love with you too,” she parted our bodies to look at me but before she could utter another love reminder I kissed her. The very first kiss that I shared with her which I'll treasure for the rest of my days. It was magical as our lips move in sync with each other. We gasp for air for a moment and she kissed me again this time it was soft and gentle. “Wait is this song-” we both laugh upon realizing. My cassette player was on while we were kissing. It's the song of cigarettes after sex.

Then he murmurs, so low the sound is lost in the wind. "Mine." And then, only then, he truly kisses me. It is not a groom's kiss. It is a claim. His tongue asserts itself, possessive, dominating, marking his territory in a language only we understand. It is the kiss from the office, from the floor of his office, from the hotel mirror in Tokyo, concentrated into a few seconds stolen from public view. When he withdraws, my lips are numb, my breath short. Applause erupts, the music swells again. People smile, some wipe away a tear.