Pulchritudinous
Do You Want to Feel a Little Beautiful Baby?
Smoke curled around her body, trailing delicately from the cigarette dangling from her fingers. She brought it up to her lips with a deviant glint in her eyes, daring me to rip it away from her. But how could I? For in that moment, when she sucked the smoke out of the cigarette pressed between her luscious lips, I felt like I had never seen anything sexier in my life. Now, you might think "sexy" is a derogatory term because you don't know me, and you don't know her. She knows me though, and I know her. We've known each other since the early days of our adulthood, and Gods above did I love her. I craved her. She was like the the nicotine encased in the cigarette she held, purposefully dangling it in front of me. It wasn't the cigarette I was staring at though, it was those delectable lips, they were a juicy apple waiting to be plucked from the branches of the tree of life, swept into a scalding kiss. But it was impossible. You must think I'm kidding, or maybe that she's in a relationship or married or has an over protective big brother or whatever it is that's going through you're head but you're wrong. You are so, hopelessly, incorrect. Why? Well, because when I first met her and she told me she didn't really date, I asked all the same things. So then, why is it so impossible for me to lean forward, brush aside the cigarette and steal that kiss? Simple...
"Oh honey, I thought you knew." She said to me sympathetically when I finally worked up the courage to out my feelings for her.
"Knew what?" I asked, horribly confused.
"I just... Don't swing that way." She confessed. In that moment I wanted to smack myself because once she'd said it, it was completely obvious. She never tried to hit on men when we went to the bar, hell she never looked at men twice but she was always willing to point out the hottest girl in the bar. She was constantly making lesbian jokes, I swear from her lips I've heard every lesbian joke there ever was.
It's been years now, since I told her that I desired her, that I wanted to steal kisses from her lush lips every possible moment that I could, and we're standing outside of our regular bar smoking.
"Do you want to know a secret?" I murmured, ashing the cigarette that rested between my fingers.
"What is it?" She asked, looking over at me with those large green eyes. I took a drag for courage and exhaled.
"I’m jealous of anyone that will ever kiss your lips.” With that I flicked the end of my cigarette on the ground and moved toward her taking her face in my hands and leaning in to kiss those lips that teased me every day, those luscious that moved gently against mine. It was like I was dehydrated and her kiss was water, all I could do for those long, long moments was drink it in, drink her in.
When I finally pulled away I cradled her face in my hands.
"I know that you and I can't be lovers, but it's okay. I just needed this one opportunity to kiss you." I turned and walked away from her, heading back inside the bar.
"We can't be a love story," she called. "But it's okay, let's see what kind of story we'll be, alright?"
All I could was grin at her, and nod.
"Oh honey, I thought you knew." She said to me sympathetically when I finally worked up the courage to out my feelings for her.
"Knew what?" I asked, horribly confused.
"I just... Don't swing that way." She confessed. In that moment I wanted to smack myself because once she'd said it, it was completely obvious. She never tried to hit on men when we went to the bar, hell she never looked at men twice but she was always willing to point out the hottest girl in the bar. She was constantly making lesbian jokes, I swear from her lips I've heard every lesbian joke there ever was.
It's been years now, since I told her that I desired her, that I wanted to steal kisses from her lush lips every possible moment that I could, and we're standing outside of our regular bar smoking.
"Do you want to know a secret?" I murmured, ashing the cigarette that rested between my fingers.
"What is it?" She asked, looking over at me with those large green eyes. I took a drag for courage and exhaled.
"I’m jealous of anyone that will ever kiss your lips.” With that I flicked the end of my cigarette on the ground and moved toward her taking her face in my hands and leaning in to kiss those lips that teased me every day, those luscious that moved gently against mine. It was like I was dehydrated and her kiss was water, all I could do for those long, long moments was drink it in, drink her in.
When I finally pulled away I cradled her face in my hands.
"I know that you and I can't be lovers, but it's okay. I just needed this one opportunity to kiss you." I turned and walked away from her, heading back inside the bar.
"We can't be a love story," she called. "But it's okay, let's see what kind of story we'll be, alright?"
All I could was grin at her, and nod.