DIRT

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Starting out strong, with force, and pressure, the heat of breath driving me even wilder. A choreography of lust. Frenzied and crazy. Of his lips molding to fit mine. Until I run out of breath.

Then slow, as if treading with caution. Warm, whispering words to my mouth. A shy flick of the tongue, a playful bite on the bottom lip. And of the familiarity and comfort of his lips against mine.

That is the perfect kiss.