Kimberly:
Our lips met. He was soft with the taste of fruit punch and alcohol clinging to his tongue.
My hands were pressed against his chest. I didn't push him away; I didn't flinch. This was... Nice.
His hands slid down my back, and he pulled me in closer, kissing me deeper. I groaned against his lips and took it all in: his taste, his smell, the feel of his skin, his muscles, his heart beating just beneath my palms.
Finally, he pulled away, panting hard as he looked at me.
"You're flushed," he smiled.
I turned away, embarrassed to look at him, embarrassed to tell him that I didn't want him to stop just yet.
"You tasted sweet," he purred, brushing my hair behind my ear, but not making me look at him, like strawberries and vanilla ice cream. Did you have any at the party?"
I nodde
