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Kissing
hands
lilblackdress
I love kissing.

I love fucking too, but kissing has its own unique delights.

I kiss my lover frequently throughout the day - it's the way I show affection. A line of short, quick kisses along his shoulder blades as he washes dishes. Pecks on back of his neck as he surfs the web, perhaps with a gentle nip at his ear. At stoplights, I take his hand and press long kisses on the back of it as I wait for the light to turn. My lips crave to touch him and his skin.

Today, he gave me a quick kiss as we finished lunch.

"Wait," I said.

He stopped, his empty plate and glass in his hands.

I said, "Today, you smell like you."

He smiled at me. "Don't I always smell like me?"

I rolled my eyes a little. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean that there's a scent that I associate with you. Only with you. Your parents' house doesn't smell like it. Your brother didn't smell like it. It's not the smell you have when you sweat. It's not your soap or shampoo or anything. It's you. Some days you don't smell as strongly of you as other days... but today, for some reason, you smell strongly of you. And I really like it."

He shrugged a little. "Not my sweat, huh?" He returned to putting our used dishes in the sink.

"Nope."

"And not my clothes?"

"Not really." I thought for a moment. "Your side of the bed smells like you." Sometimes, I like to lie down on his side of the bed, if I get to our bedroom before he does, bury my face in his pillows, and breathe deeply. The scent arouses me like no other. I typically lie there until he comes to join me, on the pretense that I'm "warming up the bed" for him. (This is partially true: he likes a warm bed while I prefer a cold one and I might as well warm his side of the bed up while waiting instead of getting to my side of the bed right away and warming my side up to the point where it is too warm for my comfort.)

"Hmm," he said, placing the last glass in the sink.

I ran my fingers through my hair. "Ok, back to work." I got up from the dining room table to return to the living room where my laptop and notes were waiting for me.

He stopped me in the doorway.

"What?" I asked him.

He placed his arms around me and held me against him. He rarely holds me this strongly outside of our bedroom. He then kissed me so deep and long that I felt weak in the knees. His scent was intoxicating and his lips seemed hungry for mine. I placed my arms around his neck and felt his hair between my fingers. His hands caressed my face and he cupped my chin in the way he knows I love and made me kiss him more. I don't know how long we were kissing. It could've been ten seconds, it could've been minutes, I'm not sure. I was just lost in that kiss and in the scent of him.

He still held my face in his hands when he pulled away from me. He grinned. He knew how much that kiss affected me.

"Nothing," he said. "I just wanted to give you that before you went back to work." He winked and walked away.

Distracting bastard.