Thirsty For Her Kiss

We are at the library. Bree is reading Little Women, a Jane Eyre novel and I'm reading Tom Sawyer, a Mark Twain Masterpiece. Well pretending to read, we are playing footsies under the table.

I'm unable to focus. Her foot is touching mine. I think of the little big three letter word.

I'm a 15-year-old teenage boy with raging hormones.

I'm so thirsty I want to go to the water fountain, but an embarrassing tent is in my shorts. Every movement she makes, I think about…

She licks her fingers to turn her page. That beautiful mouth, her sweet tasting tongue. She places some of her hair behind her ear.

Then she does something that almost made me soil my Fruit of the Loom.

The Hilltopper Honey stretches her arms over her head. Those magnificent Double D's. I've had enough. I grab her hand.

"Please stop. I'm so thirsty."

"What? Go to the fountain, silly, you don't need permission." She said.

Her voice. That laugh.

"Never mind."

I'm back watching her. I hope I don't dehydrate and die. It could be years before Mr Johnson would soften enough for me to make it to water.

The final straw. My Air taps her pencil on the table and then, with no warning, she brings the writing device next to her succulent lips and taps them.

Next, she has the audacity to place the eraser part in her mouth and tap her teeth. I somehow must put an end to this. Think. Think. I could thumb wrestle her. No. No way. She will touch my hand.

I think about my sweet grandmother. How she raised 10 children even though arthritis had taken her ability to walk. Okay, now I'm able to stand and go get a drink.

When I go by her, she reaches out and touches my hand. I quickly release it. I don't take the bait. Water. H2O, finally. I practically drained the fountain.

The librarian will need to call the Broad River Water Authority to pump more water to the fountain. I walk up behind my Love and whisper.

"Break time."

We agreed to take a break every 20 Pages. I've read maybe 5. My heart speaks.

"Okay, sweetie, two more pages. Sit, please."

Not this again. Those electric blue eyes that don't even seem real. She flashes those pearly whites. Must be a funny part. Those adorable freckles. I can't believe they're almost gone.

She had some 64 at Spindale Elementary. Now 14 are barely visible. She closes her book. Thank God.

The best part of the reading club. I guess we could add lip locking to the title. We go to our spot on the opposite side of the Spindale House. Away from the library in the fence's corner that surrounds the tennis courts.

The mild mid-morning Summer Breeze feels and tastes almost as delicious as my beautiful summer Bree. However, Mother Nature's breeze pales compared to the touch and taste of a living breathing Breeland.

The deal is we will each give a verbal book report on what we had read. Then finally I could taste every inch, every nick and cranny of the delectable body part.

I'm leaning on the brick facade while Bree is doing some type of either cheerleading or dance moves.

"Ok, you are going to love this part…"

I hear Charlie Brown's teacher. She is busy giving her report on the chapters she reads. Moving her arms, she is in perpetual motion.

My Love is like this sweet snake charmer. I'm like this deadly cobra waiting for an opening to strike and taste this sumptuous humanoid.

She spins, doing one of her ballet moves, and I pounce. She screams. I lift her off the ground and immediately began kissing her neck. My Bree purrs and melts in my arms. She goes for my neck, chin, and mouth.

We kiss for 5 minutes straight. I'm always a little paranoid about kissing a white girl right in Spindale city limits.

"Wow, I didn't think Little Women would have such an effect."

I give a sly smile.

"It's not Little Women but my lil woman."

Let's see, maybe it's the white shorty shorts. Maybe the cute pink sandals, no, it's the pink halter top.

Really, it's being able to spend some alone time with the prettiest cheerleader on the Hilltop."

She spins her body perfectly in my arms. I hold her from behind. She squeezes my arm.

"Why do you get so embarrassed when I give a compliment?"

Trying to keep her still requires specialized training. I moved her hair, exposing her ear.

"As gorgeous as you are. You may as well get used to it."

I softly kiss the nape. Her eyes close, I feel her melt. She turns, looking so deep, her eyes view my soul.

"Thank you, my beautiful boy. I love the way you make me feel."

FINAL THOUGHT

Her kisses are like the waterfalls of Niagara. Only temporarily quenching, I can never seem to enough. Always Thirsty For Her Kiss.