Kiss Fragment

 

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For international kiss(ing) day, and with that master of ‘The Kiss’ in mind, Gustav Klimt, an extract from ‘Viennese Whorl’~

Emilie turned towards me and those seductive eyes with their soft glister of schorl, looked directly into mine. “Kiss me, Anton.”

As I drew close, her slender fingers touched the matted curls on my forehead, tracing a line down my cheek and across the top of my lip where my sparse moustache was trying its best to imitate a hussar’s. Her fingertips lingered on the side of my throat, just under my jaw, the place where a pulse beating with frantic speed was already betraying my wracked nerves.

That first kiss I planted on her lips was an affirmation of all my repressed desires up to that point. As I bestowed it, and she responded, I felt within me a shift of belief, a rite of secession from the old to the new, where all forbidden delights were about to be revealed and laid bare. Her beautiful mouth may have tasted of ripe cherries and young wine and her skin may well have been as soft and yielding as the flesh of a downy peach, but my head was filled with the bigger picture too. Green shoots, the pink buds bursting through, the sacred spring, ver sacrum, the cycle of life.

I was drowning in her heady scent, the scent of an exotic bloom from the Imperial hothouse. The boa seemed to unfurl itself and fly off –did she divest herself of it or did I? Her fingers began to tug at the fastenings of her dress. Soon her exquisite shoulders and breasts were exposed. Delicious ivory curves as voluptuous as any allegory painted by Klimt.

I kissed her soft throat and followed it up with a torrent of small kisses along her collarbone. As my lips began their descent, encountering the gentle rise of her bosom, I felt overcome and almost wept with joy. I would happily have lain my fevered brow upon there for eternity. Emilie interrupted my brief reverie –she seemed to have other ideas. She grabbed my hand and drew it further down, in between her thighs, her legs bare of any stockings. I then discovered that my goddess was a goddess of little or no underclothes and I needed to unbutton myself, fast.

 

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Kiss Fragment

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