Tag Archive | Kiss

Caresses and Courage

Artist of the week: Mort Kunstler; pinterest.com

Holding Alyssa in the witness relocation program until the trial kept her out of harm’s way, but for my benefit, kept her alone with me for weeks. Day after day, I became her amanuensis, dictating the exact details from the crime that she had witnessed. Night after night, I became obsessed with her golden hair, her supple breasts, the loose bathrobe, and legs that I desperately desired to wrap around my waist and swallow my big ego. I was sure she felt the same way toward me as I often found her watching me out of the corner of her eye.

On the last night, I gathered all my courage to kiss her. Her soft, full lips melted into mine as her fingers caressed my neck and ran through my hair. Opening her robe, she invited me in, wrapping it around both of us. Finding her waist, I lifted her to my chest as we violently crushed our mouths to each other’s and stumbled to the bedroom.

The next morning I awoke naked to find her gone. She would not testify against those who meant to do her harm. And I understood, letting her go, still dreaming of our one passionate night spent together. But then I smiled, remembering her words. She had given me clues in her dictation as to where she would go – and where she wanted me to find her.


Escape to Passion Cove

Artist George Gross; pinterest.com

On their very first night together, his delectable charm provoked in Jolanda a visceral devotion, making her heart flutter with wild affection. Theirs was a date that lasted a week, beginning with a helicopter flight to view the twinkling lights of the bustling city. Then it was off for a drive along the rocky coast with the ocean view to their right as far as they could drive. The wind wafted through their hair and a sunset over the horizon painted the sky pink. One of those beaches became their final destination, and a hotel by the water accepted cash. Finding a quiet cove where the waves rolled up in soft foam, they let their impassioned hearts break free as they tore at each other like beasts. Kisses became luscious desserts and caresses the buffet. When pleasure ripped through their bodies like thunder through lightning, their lovemaking intensified and excelled in orgasmic delight.

Inside the Ivy-Veiled Wall

Artist Rudy Nappi; pinterest.com

A harsh breeze ruffles curtains
As summer changes to fall
A whistle of coldness blows and echoes
Outside the ivy-veiled wall.

A dash of wind
Brings flames to life
By a fireplace warm and cozy

Inside the mood is set for love
Our passion the fire’s heat.

Throb, my heart, with lovesick joy
To devour love complete.

Finding Crisantha

Artist Edwin Georgi; pinterest.com

A Friday-Night Date-Night Short Story:

So I wasn’t invited to the dance. I didn’t care. Except that I did. Her name was Crisantha. Gorgeous eyes as bright as bluebells, long curly hair like a flowing river valley, and a smile that melted my heart the moment I laid eyes on her. I had wanted to take her to the dance on the day I had heard about it, but someone who was more important than someone else heard that I heard about it and make a ruckus. He found a way of keeping out all the lesser important types and making the dance invitation-only – to which I received none, naturally.

But Crisantha was there. And I was here – moping, waiting for the next move. Outside my window, rain fell down in sheets and relentlessly pounded the gravel driveway, making ankle-deep puddles. I had no car, no motorcycle, no bike, and no invitation. I just stared out into the rain and wondered what Crisantha was looking like in a formal dress. Something like a princess, a bride, an angel. By the top of the hour when my clock chimed, I had made up my mind. What was the point of staying dry when getting wet was going to get me to Crisantha? So I charged out the door and splashed through muddy puddles, letting the squall douse every inch of me. I ran and ran until I was out of breath and had to stop, bending over, placing my hands on my knees, and panting like a rabid beast. But when I looked up, I was there – standing outside the dance hall with rain showering over me.

How I got past the door guard, I’ll never know. I must have come later than they assumed anyone would, so he was off doing who-knows-what with who-knows-whom. At once, I barged through the double-doors like I owned the place. It was packed, as expected. Lively music echoed off the four walls in the warehouse-size hall and people in formal dress were dancing swing, whipping each other around like ragdolls. I knew the dance. Seen it once before. That was the extent of my skill at it, too. But I still had to find Crisantha no matter what it took.

As I meandered across the crowded dance floor, people stopped and gasped, staring and murmuring at the guy who came in from the rain soaking wet without formal clothes. I grinned and nodded at some, winked at others. Then I saw her. She was a vision across the dance floor and immediately I shuffled around a group of dancers so that she wouldn’t see me and I would spin right into… her arms. As she fell into me, she gasped with a squeal.

Instinctively, she pulled away, but I held her to me tightly and wouldn’t let go. To keep the rhythm going, I swayed and felt the warmth of her body against mine. She was lovelier than I imagined she would look, her dress maroon and fuchsia with a long, flowing, ruffled skirt. And those bluebells captured me once again.

“Davey!” she cried in recognition with that wide smile I loved. “How did you…? And why are you all wet?”

“I had to get here before it ended,” I replied, staring deeply into her eyes.

“Why?” she asked, seeming to know the answer already.

This was it. I stopped swaying, placed my hand gently on her cheek, and crushed my lips to hers. Elation tore through us like fire over water and with that one kiss, she finally knew my intentions. I was delighted to discover that she felt the same about me. It was in her kiss, her tongue on mine, her hold around my waist and not letting go, regardless of the fact that I was soaking wet and she looked like Cinderella. Our kiss that night had one of those time-stands-still moments with the forever-in-love kind of heart connection.

When I withdrew and gazed once again into her eyes, I said her name, slowly over my mouth so that I could feel each syllable on the nerve ends of my tongue touching my lips. “Crisantha…”

“Hmm?” she groaned with her arms wrapped all the way around my waist. Her face was soft and glowing.

“Let’s get out of here,” I grinned.

A smile crept onto her face slowly, her eyes shining. “Let’s go!”

As I held her hand, we rushed past the stiffs – the invitation-only’s, the important people who hung with other important people – and crashed through the double-doors out into the pouring rain, laughing together without a care in the world.

Alone at Last

ed tadiello

Artist Ed Tadiello; pinterest.com

It had all started with a kiss. His lips on hers. In public. In the restaurant. Hundreds of witnesses. Henna’s ambiguous response to his advances did not deter his unwavering determination to capture her heart. He persisted. She pulled away. Yet all the while, day after day, he wore her down, made her promises that only he could keep and gave her gifts that only he could give. After a chance encounter at her friend’s wedding, she found him and danced with him and fell in love with him. In their dance, they touched, electric cords of passion coursing through their veins, uniting their hearts to one another until there was nothing else they could do but find their place of longing and rest, of solace and tranquility. So they found this place, off the beaten path, in secluded woods. It was here where they would consummate their deepest affections.

The Heart to be Conquered

beach kiss - arthur sarnoff

Artist Arthur Sarnoff – pinterest.com

It took more strength than Delphine realized to carry his love across the threshold of her querulous heart. As she lie on the beach towel, the sea breeze ruffling softly through her auburn hair, he scooted closer and pressed his lips to hers. His was a delicate sweetness, an effervescent intoxication that intensified with every charm and fortitude. One kiss was enough. All defenses fell that day. The waves whispered up to a thirsty shore that soaked in love. And hers was the heart to be conquered.

The glade of sacred intimacy


Artist Steve Hanks; pinterest.com

Love is a current of ecstasy in a river that flows through a tranquil forest.

Deep in the forest glade under streams of sunlight bringing hope to the lovesick soul, the lovers embraced. Like ravenous wolves, they clutched with tenacious hands and teased each other with tepid tongues.

Her lover was broad and solid, a man of men, secure and staunch, breathing over her heat and swelter. “Just let my lips feast upon your honeydew, the suckling of your inner beauty,” he said as his mouth met her flesh in tangible solace.

At once, branches of the forest trees responded in sway with a scorching wind, raking over the lovers like dancing flames in a raging wildfire.

Wet and willing, warm and wanton, her body constrained her release. Her breathing escalated in shorter and quicker spurts, her breasts lifting and lowering. “Take me, my lover,” she gasped, “pour into me your ferocious bite, the sting of my lust, the venom of your love.”

The forest knew its place in this dance, swirling leaves surrounding the lovers, capturing the moment in fantasy and whim.

His touch plunged beneath the surface, as deep as her heart, like a diver reaching ocean depths. “Feel me, my love, my heart molding to yours like liquid heat, like lava that creates islands.”

With pleasure surging and boiling over, she longed to scream but found no voice. She wanted to burst but found no break. “Now, my lover,” she finally shrieked. “Now!”

Clawing, moaning, howling, writhing like wolves on the hunt, they played with ferocious ecstasy as their companion, their bliss rising to the sun beyond the forest, to the keeper of their sacred glade.

Her lover complied, injecting into her fresh euphoria, a moment that burst like microcosms crashing into milky ways.

In its wake, love washed over her, releasing millions of stars of orgasmic elation. For a moment, the forest grew silent in reverence. The birds ceased their chirps, and the river stopped its flow.

An aching moment of silence passed between man and nature, but it replayed in hearts’ song when their lips met once again, and their craving desires mutually resurfaced.