ph: weheartit
I can honestly say that the moment you kissed me was one that I have not been able to forget. You invited me in for a drink, to your brother’s room, I had just finished telling all our friends about a horrendous date I had gone on that night. I had never thought about you before, I had barely talked to you before. We had only danced for a moment the night before, something that barely registered. You had knocked on my door later that night, but excused yourself, saying you were looking for someone else when you saw the group in my room.
We got to talking, talking about everything and anything in what felt like only a moment. We lamented the night before, a bad fraternity party where we hadn’t known too many people. Aided by a screwdriver or two, you had me laughing and I was so surprised with everything we had in common, at the strange wonderful feeling of meeting a person with whom you just connect. And then, in the moment it took me to set my drink down and turn around, you had me in your arms, kissing me, pushed up against the cold, hard dorm room wall. You tasted like smoke and orange juice, the first smoker I had kissed, and you kissed with a passion I had never experienced before. You were smooth, firm yet gentle all in the same moment. I could never tell you how long it was before you stepped back, and all you said as I gaped at you was a simple “that’s how I wanted last night to go.” We connected again, and indulged again in the simple motions that always seem so new, and as soon as it began to feel like it was escalating, as one of us knew we had to say something, to move from that doorway, your twin came in, and it all ended as quickly as it had began.
