I see something in you. I don't know what it is. I think you're attractive. I see your smooth skin and I want to feel it's softness against the roughness of my own face. But it's not just the way you look. I like your clothes, your simple blouse and the way it curves around your breasts and clings to the sides of your waist. I love your hair. It looks so soft and touchable. Your hair looks soft the way that I can never understand, the way certain girls apply the right amount of shampoo, leave-in conditioner, and after shower product that leaves it soft and smooth yet together, finished. I love the way that you present yourself, your simple makeup. It's a balance of accentuating certain features and focal points on your face without looking painted. The way that that I can tell how much you take care of yourself without looking like you were trying too hard. It's almost an indescribable combination of care and planning vs. impishness and naturality.
This is not what makes me come in for a kiss though. I see this attractive combination of features at times, it is not too too rare. What lies beneath is what draws me in. The natural/pampered/cared for/nonchalant look comes out of a worldview and confidence that I find incoriggably contagious and irresistable. It's the secure sense of self that makes me make the decision to make a move.
I never do make a move, if I think that I will be rejected. But there's something in you, and something between us tonight that makes me unable to help myself. While at times I am the confident, nonchalant, but well taken care of person that I find so attractive in you; that is not the person that I bring with me everywhere.
He is but an occasional visitor, an out of town relative or long lost friend who shows up unannounced to surprise me, when else but when I least expect it?
I, at this moment, was not receiving a visit from my friendly familiar, the ghost of the perfectly self-realized version of myself. Tonight was a regular night, and I was not ready to attract anyone, let alone someone that I am so attracted to. You have caught me quite by surprise, tonight, special love.
I know that you are attracted to me, as well. I can see it in your eyes. Not in the normal 'look you in the eye' way, however. I practice that daily, with many people of no consequence, as I'm sure you do also, throughout your day. This is a direct eye-scrutinizing expedition that's happening between us now. We look into each other's eyes, not only to show how involved we are in what the other person is saying, but looking deeper, looking past what we both know is probably a facade that we both show to other people, to other new people, people who we aren't sure have something deeper inside, something that says
"It's okay to let go. I'll be careful with you."
So now I swallow, and lick my lips. I slightly bow my head (you're probably shorter than me) and slightly lower my eyelids.
The bedroom look, if you will.
I move my head closer to yours, forehead leading. I close my eyes as I reach your hair with my eyebrows. I go to my right, to the left side of your skull, rubbing softly through your perfect hair as my left hand cradles your neck on the opposite side. I slide my hand around to the point where skull and spine meet, just below the hairline, gliding along the soft and shorter hairs that can never make it into a ponytail. I bring my head left, heading towards your right side. I keep my mouth safely away, to delay what I really want to have happen. I let your eyebrows; first your left, then your right, grace across my forehead, low enough so that my nose brushes against the bridge of yours, giving pressure but not enough to catch or become uncomfortable as I cross your face. After I reach your right side, I come back towards the center, and lower.
This time I grace your lips with mine. Mine have started to dry out by now, the intensity of my anticipation beginning to stay the normal moisture levels of my body. I have primed myself for something more than surviving.