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Message-ID: <36918asstr$1024665005@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Desdmona22@aol.com
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Subject: {ASSM} [rom fest] (Classic) Seasonal Kisses by Desdmona
Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2002 09:10:05 -0400
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The following is intended to be part of the Romance Festival in the classic 
category. I chose this piece because it's based on the true meeting, romance, 
and subsequent marriage ot my husband and I.  

I'm a full-blooded married woman. He's my religion, my creed, and my belief 
system. He at times has been my encourager, my editor, and always my 
inspiration.

There's nothing more intimate or romantic than sharing kisses with the one 
you love, and realizing how those kisses change as the relationship matures.

This story is dedicated to the one I love. He's my husband, my lover, and my 
best friend. 

********************************************************************
Seasonal Kisses
By Desdmona


He came and it was summer...

The Earth was a palette of rich colors, an artist's delight of hues. The 
bright yellows of daisies and morning-light, the reds of roses and ladybugs 
that sprinkled the world for luck, the blues of perfect skies and crystal, 
clear waters, the greens of leaves and grass that had been watered and 
tenderly attended yet, with the heat of Solstice, were fading to brown, the 
lavenders of summer skies pleading not to be swallowed by the darkness of 
sunset, and the fuchsia's of pansies and phlox dotting the manicured lawns. 
The spectrum of summer was a vivid background.

The air was thick and heavy with humidity that ignored the ground and hung 
suspended in the space around us.  The heat scorched our lungs with every 
inhalation. The sun steeped our perspiring bodies like lobsters set to boil.

And we kissed...

The kiss was hesitant, not fumbling, but weakened by fear of rejection. Like 
a schoolboy in front of a class giving a report on his favorite subject and 
forgetting how he loves it when he sees everyone staring at him.  Time 
settled in. The kiss lengthened. Our lips softened and molded together. Like 
that same boy, who remembers his topic and how much he loves it, then sees 
the looks of anticipation, so finishes with fervor; we jumped into our 
kissing with no less enthusiasm.  

Mouths collided, vying for space to seek and discover the unknown. Our 
cautious tongues touched and drew back like turtles peeking from shells, then 
plunged ahead in courageous excitement. Unswallowed saliva seeped between, 
allowing our slippery lips to glide like oil-slicked bodies in the hot, 
summer sun. It went on forever until moisture was gone and all that remained 
was dry, chapped mouths that still searched for satiety. 

It was the burn of summer, the burn of skin, the burn of kisses never before 
known yet emblazoned in memory.


He visited and it was autumn...

The tint of earth had muted to obscure shades in the Crayola box. The leaves 
were turning to brick and goldenrod and burnt sienna. Pumpkin orange speckled 
the porches with countless jack-o-lanterns. Orchards were heavy with juicy, 
ready-to-be-picked apples. Bales of hay, scattered over plowed fields, stood 
like soldiers proudly representing a job well done.
 
The world hummed with activity as kids dressed in newly store-bought clothes 
and armed with the most up-to-date supplies, hurried back to school. 

We, too, hurried back to one another's embrace...

The kisses were eager and rushed like children trick-or-treating from house 
to house, remembering the indulgences that awaited them and begging for more. 
We greedily scooted our mouths into familiar positions, tightening together, 
and barely allowing a whisper of air between us. Our tongues mingled in 
gluttonous search of oral utopia and found it. We kissed until our lips were 
numb and swollen and unable to pucker.

It was the rush of autumn, the rush of children, and the rush of kisses that 
roused heart's immortal thirst.


He returned and it was winter...

The cold, north wind blasted through the streets, shuffling remnants of 
holiday past to the edges. Warm puffs of air were visual with every breath, 
and breathing was heard like the chug of a train, climbing uphill. A small 
number of people lumbered along, weighted down in bundled layers of clothing 
and outerwear. Most of the world hibernated, waiting for winter's tide to 
pass. 

The achromatic land stretched as far as the eye could see. Naked trees with 
skeletal branches broke up the sameness of snow-covered earth. Snowflakes, 
like alabaster powder, dusted the tops of starkly, dark buildings. Charcoaled 
smoke escaped from chimney after chimney, foretelling of cozy, warm fires and 
snuggling couples.

We became one of those...

The kisses were soft and poignant. The venereal appetite remained, sated with 
simple petting from spongy mouths, but a little of the urgency had abated, 
replaced by a softer, gentler caress. Lips tickled like the vibrating reed in 
the embouchure of an instrument played. Tongue recognized tongue, lip 
recognized lip, breath recognized breath; the familiarity was vitalizing.

It was the concession of snow, the concession of winter, and the concession 
of life-altering changes when love is immeasurably avowed. 


He remained and it was spring...

The passionate grip of Morpheus loosened as the world opened its dreamy eyes. 
The sun took possession of the sky and demanded a lengthier stay. The moon 
acquiesced and slid silently into the shortened night. Birds chirped in 
lustful tones, sharing the gossip of winter's passing. Blossoming foliage 
basked in temperate rays and drank heartily from clement rains.

Embryonic buds sprinkled the trees in pastel merriment. Daffodils, with 
cheery, yellow faces, stood like happy sentinels, lining the sidewalks. The 
cerulean sky became a backdrop for homemade kites that bumped upward in 
playful breezes. An enceinte Mother Nature conceived new beginning to life.

We had our own beginning...

The kisses were filled with anticipation, like children hunting for Easter 
Eggs, panting with excitement at the hunt, and shaking eagerly when one is 
found. Feathery kisses adorned professions of love and whispers of promised 
vows. An explosion of arduous need heatedly ensued. Mouths opened, tongues 
intertwined, lips smashed together in faultless alignment. The silhouette of 
love connected us in harmony.

It was a time of new beginnings, a time of new life, a time to share it as 
one.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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