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Memoirs: A kiss

I remember the kiss as if it were yesterday though many years have long since passed. He was my very best friend and I was his. I can still see the look on his face as he smiled so cheerfully and said, "I want to kiss you." I remember telling him no but I also can recall really wanting to kiss him. As my lips spoke the word "No" and thanked him for the flattery he said, "You've kissed me before." That I did not remember.

He explained that it had happened one night outside of a bar two years earlier. I had been drinking heavily and did not really know him yet. I didn't recall this kiss being him but I did remember this kiss. Ashamed and more embarrassed I told him that I was not like that anymore and that we couldn't kiss as he had someone else and though I was separated I too had someone else. I also reminded him that we were friends and I didn't want to mess that up. Though he was having problems in his relationship as well, she too was my friend.

He was such a handsome man, slender and muscular. He had reddish blond hair and his eyes were as blue as the sky with flecks of green in them. He looked at me with such passion and kindness. His spirit was so free and his wisdom beyond measure. He was a loyal and trusted friend, always there in a time of need. I obviously found him attractive. I didn't want to lose the one friend I could completely trust.

In the moment that my mind was racing with these thoughts he whisked me up in his arms and sat me onto the washing machine. He did not care that I was dressed only in my pajamas, I was doing laundry, I had no make- up on, or the fact that I was wearing a bandanna on my head; he looked at me as though I were the most beautiful woman in the world and at that moment he made me feel that I was.

He placed his strong hand upon my cheek and tilted my head back so as to look into my eyes. His large hand was warm and barely touching me. The feel of it upon my face sent chills of excitement throughout my entire body. It was a peaceful feeling and so comforting. My only fear was that this touch would somehow later destroy our friendship and faith in one another.

As he leaned in to kiss me he whispered with a smile and said, "Let me remind you," then his lips touched mine. They were warm and as soft as spun silk. His breath was hot and his lips were moist. Tenderly pressed against mine his mouth was opened slightly and his tongue brushed across my lips. He tasted sweet like the juice of a fresh berry. His kiss began as tender


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