“It seems like one kiss really is not enough.” I said to her, lying in bed, looking at the stars in her gorgeous black eyes, as black as the night sky – portals to her soul.
“How many kisses do you want?” She replied.
“How about 100? 200? 300 kisses?”
“What?” She laughed, heartily.
I kissed her tender lips. The starting kiss was slow and gentle, like savoring a hot tea, yet violent and passionate, like fire burning a forest down to the ground. I started counting. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven …. Twenty-one, Twenty-two, Twenty-three, Twenty-four, Twenty-five …….
And I lost count. Was it already thirty? Forty? Fifty? A hundred? All I know, I was lost; Lost like an inexperienced sailor in the sea of kisses. I was enchanted; By the indescribable feeling when our delicate lips clashed hundreds of times; By the sound of our breaths, taken and exchanged between our mouths, racing against each other. I was kissing her as if my life requires it; As if she hasn’t been kissed before.
“Three hundred.” I laughed, my lips was tingling from all the kisses. But my lips were soon craving for hers; For the taste of her lips; For the taste of love; Insatiable.
I don’t even know how many kisses we had that day.
We were both lost. Lost in love.
Lost in that moment of blissfulness.
And I do miss that moment.
I miss you.