August MacGregor

Celebrating Sensuality. Intended for mature audiences, 18 and over

Fireworks Kisses

7 Comments

To home after the fireworks, fighting the traffic with everyone leaving the park at the same time, finally making it home, putting the tired kids to bed, and dropping on the couch with a sigh.

Then he kisses her. Doesn’t pick up the TV remote. Doesn’t say for the tenth time what a great fireworks display it was this year. He kisses her.

The kiss starts off slowly. Just a touch, their lips merely saying hello. But he pushes on, past the hello and starting into a dance. She’s surprised, this kiss going beyond his normal. This is closer to his old normal, before he—both of them, really—changed. You could blame the three kids arriving in their lives and changing them completely, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth. Both he and she changed, and that change became the new normal.

Still, his lips push and play and continue to surprise her. She places her hand on his face, feeling the warmth of his skin and the beard stubble. She kisses him back, pleased how his lips want to keep dancing.

It’s a “I know it’s been a long day and we’re tired, but I don’t want to watch TV” kiss. It’s a “I’m sorry for taking you for granted” kiss. It’s a kiss meant to convey love and longing. It’s a kiss meant to wow her, and it succeeds. It’s a kiss with an exploring tongue and his hand on her thigh, underneath her shorts and on the sensitive skin of the inside of her thigh.

It’s a fireworks kiss. A kiss that started like a single line of the rocket flying up into the sky, everyone watching and waiting, then the rocket bursting with brilliant colors and lighting up everyone’s awed eyes. Her eyelids are not wide open, though. They’re half closed to see him so near to her, and then they’re all the way closed to focus more on the feeling, just to feel him and kiss him back.

Their kiss lasts a lusciously long time. The fireworks burst continually now, no need to wait for a pause in the show and see the darkness of the night take over momentarily and see the flight of a new rocket. No, this was a bloom of firework after firework, a constant and vibrant show. And now, leans against her, and she accepts him, leaning back. Lying back on the couch. Him on top of her, not missing a beat of those fireworks kisses as he undresses her and continues in the night’s explosions.

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Author: augustmacgregor

I'm a writer of erotica and romantic fiction.

7 thoughts on “Fireworks Kisses

  1. More if that oh so good lovin’ that I adore.

    Like

  2. Aww! Love’s perfection, I say. Lovely, Gus.

    Like

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