The most delicious part of a perfect kiss is not the pressing of lips together. It is not the claiming, lustful engulfing.
It’s the moment of hesitation. When lips are millimeters apart, when time freezes, when your brain stops thinking and just reacts, just feels.
Perhaps it is the hesitation before lips meet for a first, tentative kiss. Or maybe it’s a hesitation in the transition between small, explorative kisses and giving in to lust. It could be that the hesitation is due to uncertainty. Or fighting a losing battle over lust. With an established partner that hesitation could also be intentional and meant to merely be a maddening tease. Draw out the longed-for moment of contact.
The hesitation is one of those times where so much more is said in the inaction than the action. And I keep coming back to it in my mind, and it is just as prominent in my memory bank as the actual kiss. Recalling the brief second where a whirling eddy of thoughts and wants ran through my own mind is almost more arousing to me now than the kiss that followed.