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It's In A Kiss

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She has this thing.

She does this thing when we kiss. I myself haven't noticed, but when someone pointed it out to me, I started paying attention to this thing.

Say that there is a perfect moment to kiss—with Mac, every moment is a perfect moment—and we get closer and closer.

When our lips finally meet, she presses them roughly against mine and then pulls away. Not completely, but just until her lips are brushing mine. She makes me lean forward to kiss her better.

It's a little thing she does. It makes me think that she kisses me and then makes me beg her for more. As if the first peck is just a preview—which it usually is.

She makes me work for the kiss. And I usually like it that way.

She molds her whole body against mine, but only her head backs away, and slowly, too!

Sometimes, when she really wants a passionate kiss, she'll cup my face with her hands, her palms pressed against my cheeks.

There is only one time when she will kiss me fully, without making me really work for it. When we're about to make love, and she's on top, leaning over me, ready to sink down. That's how she lets me know she's ready.

And I'm always ready for her.

Because I love her.