Tag: kisses

On relationships

Back in November/December last year when I was still hopeful of meeting the One, when the idea of polyamory was as alien as living on Mars, I recorded this in my diary:-

The fact is that dating many is really quite fun.  I can’t see myself settling down with any of these new dates or anyone for that matter.   It’s possible that I might find romance and love again but there’s no one at the moment who fulfils all my requirements.  Until then I dally and tarry with the ones who might do just for now.

With these I meet up, chat and share the odd evening together.   Of course it’s always fun going on dates and I allow, even indulge myself a fantasy that he might be the one as I prepare to see any one of my current beaux.  I still hedge my bets and don’t quite end things with 2 others and there is a possible 3rd in the wings as this is the time of year when everyone has already made plans, myself included of how we’re to spend the holidays – so as of the present I’ve yet to meet the next one.

My current favourite is a small bespectacled bald nerdy fellow who makes me laugh but seems the most emotionally balanced and kisses really well.  He doesn’t rush things, said that he would prefer not to enter into a physical relationship from the outset for fear that it clouded our reasoning and would rather that we take our time getting to know each other.  We have agreed to be honest about our intentions and he knows that I am keeping my options open and dating others.  He has said that he, on the other hand cannot juggle more than one relationship at a time and is not seeing anyone else.  I too am sceptical about the fate of this relationship because he does not have a good track record – the longest he has ever been with anyone was only 4 months!  But he admitted to being a late starter.

The one who is energetic has moved things up a gear and suggested a more intimate dating activity involving a massage.  I am not so naive to believe that a massage is all that it is.  I don’t feel ready to indulge beyond a massage myself and it will surely be a test of how much I like him enough to go further.

Looking back I do laugh at myself – the late starter bolted at the beginning of the year but has recently got in touch.  When I think of him I am reminded of wary animals in the wild that edge cautiously and circle whatever temptation may be on offer, ready to flee at the slightest threat.  The massage with the adventurer rapidly turned into something more intimate and it was I who fled the scene.

Last week Jan and I attempted to plan a holiday together but the dates have now been moved into the summer due to our separate domestic arrangements.  We made a loose date over the bank holiday weekend to continue discussions.    Max and I in the meantime have slowed down our dates to once a week and spend less time texting or emailing each other – the novelty of getting to know one another has worn off and perhaps the drifting away has begun.  Most of my relationships seem to follow this pattern – a heady start, cooling off and drifting apart followed by a re-acquaintance and friendship.  Where’s the elusive One?  It’s almost sine qua non that he must accept my continued friendships with past lovers.  Lars has an open relationship with his partner where they encourage each other to meet new people all the time.  Our relationship is purely sexual and I believe his partner does not feel threatened or jealous by it.  What is jealousy but a fear that someone else would take our place?  I used to have to coach myself against this negative emotion – it requires a great deal of self-belief and confidence in ourselves and our partners to overcome it – in any event, it’s a useless feeling and I’m less affected by it now even though it still lurks.

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Some men deserve a second chance

Goran: Hi Amy, I hate to do this, but need to cancel this afternoon. I’m really sorry.

Me: Something came up?

Goran: Domestic issues

Me: No worries

Goran: I feel really bad.

Me: It happens. You’ll make it up I’m sure.

We go on to chat about this and that and make a lunch date in the middle of the week. When we met up we found that we got on really well, he worked in a post-graduate facility as a lab technician and was married with a young son. He was in an open marriage where his wife was in the middle of a torrid break up with one of her current lovers and he was looking around for a new relationship as the last one had decided she wanted a more exclusive arrangement which he was not prepared for. Almost immediately after that first meeting, we went into the Easter holidays which meant that he was abroad with his son for about a couple of weeks. When he returned we made another date, this time for an evening drinks which promised to lead to more. And then this happened:

Goran: Hi, bad news again I’m afraid, I’m needed at home tonight.

Me: No worries.

Goran: Tomorrow? or Saturday?

Me: Sorry I’m booked up the rest of the week.

Goran: You’re very active! Single men without kids tend to be more flexible, I suppose.

Me: Some of them with kids arrange childcare.

Goran: Sorry.

I really thought that was the end of it but then he sent me another entreaty:

Goran: I know I’ve been testing your patience and I’m sorry for that. Would you be willing to give it one more go? Some time next week?

Me: Depends.

Goran: On?

Me: Availability – Tuesday evening, next week?

Goran: I’ll book a room at a charming little boutique hotel I know – the Fox and Anchor.

Me: Sweet. See you there around 6?

Goran: Looking forward to it xx.

There was a chance the date might not happen, I told myself – given how many times he’d cancelled at the last minute. But at 5.30pm on that day he sent me the following text message – I’m early, eagerly awaiting your arrival x.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get it until I’d decided to stop off at a pub en route as I’d arrived ten minutes before 6 and had not wanted to appear too eager. It was only at 6 when I looked at my phone that I saw his text. When I got to the Fox and Anchor he was sitting at the back of the pub and offered to get me a drink. Having downed a pint earlier, I didn’t feel thirsty anymore and declined his offer, not expecting that he would take that as his cue to whisk me upstairs straightaway to the room. I thought he might have suggested going out for a walk or dinner. But the room was at the top of about five flights of stairs and I almost collapsed on the bed when we got there.

When I’d caught my breath he leaned over and kissed me and of course things got more urgent and after establishing that we both wanted the same things, we got into bed. Any previous reservations I’d had about shortcomings on his part were unfounded as I felt his hard on under his pants – he was pleasingly well hung and curved. Whilst Lars was curved inward, Goran’s curved outward and was just a tad longer, incredibly and satisfyingly so.

It was still light when we had both climaxed and we decided to take a little walk around the neighbourhood – as he had been on a walking tour there the previous week he was able to tell me some of the history of the area. We got to the ancient church which had been featured in the film Four Weddings and a Funeral and was allowed a quick tour inside by the rector who was hosting a quiz night for his parishioners that evening. We decided not to join them despite their warmth and friendliness and Goran took me to the square where he worked. It was another ancient part of the city and I marvelled at how picturesque the whole place was.

Tour complete, it was time for dinner and we went back to the hotel. We were eventually seated in a private booth at the back of the dining room where we misbehaved in between courses. While we chatted I found out that Goran was about eight years younger than me – he had been such a charming, courteous, and well-informed gentleman throughout our liaison that I’d assumed we were the same age or that he might have been a few years older than me. It was largely due to the proper tones of our conversation, its un-smuttiness that had led me to that misconception. Still, I wasn’t complaining as after finishing the Valpolicella with a small cheese board, we returned upstairs for the second round, which turned into the 3rd, 4th and 5th, by which time it was too late for me to catch any trains back. Having a younger lover certainly has its plus points.

Goran, who had cycled there earlier decided not to go home and stayed the night to keep me company. In the middle of the night and early hours of the morning we continued with more romps and after a satisfying hot shower, we kissed our goodbyes, both replete. I was particularly pleased that I had given him a second chance and look forward to the next occasion.

Adventures with Lars

It was a while ago when Lars first wrote to me. We must have matched in terms of the answers we had given on the dating site and as to what we were looking for – sex in a non-monogamous relationship.  We agreed on a date some nearly two weeks ahead of our first few messages to each other and I didn’t hear from him much after that, unlike with some of the others at the time who engaged in a salacious exchange of messages, photos and videos.  We had established that we both wanted drama-free fun in the real world, sans jealousy and the sluttier the better.

He did send me a message while on the Eurostar pre-meeting up along the lines that he was getting fairly aroused merely thinking of me.  I was amused, gratified and quite prepared to indulge him, the character of Amy as a liberal sex vamp was still new and appealing to me at the time and I encouraged him to give an account of any slutty adventures he might enjoy on his trip.  We exchanged creative content and I learnt that he makes music which has a looping, rhythmic quality in a language I did not recognise.  He discovered that my appeal was that I lived only a couple of miles away from him – which meant spur-of-the-moment shags were easier to engineer.  During these message exchanges I had got to know him a little more and the little was enough to have persuaded me to accept his impromptu invitation to meet before our pre-arranged date.

This was at the end of last month two days ahead of our planned date, spontaneously,  in a part of London near his place of work. It was a Saturday afternoon however and the whole of London was crowded with people. We searched about for a suitable drinking hole until finally we came across a medium-sized bistro.

During the date he had told me more about himself – growing up in a part of Africa in an expat community and discovering as an adolescent the injustice of the situation; his rebellious streak and leaving home to put himself through university and now leading an academic’s life, with time for his music and sexual peccadilloes.  He told me of his open relationship with a dominatrix and their house in the country where they might occasionally host an orgy or two.  After polishing off the cheeseboard and a fairly decent bottle of puilly fuisse between us he invited me back to his.

We got into the tube and as he is considerably taller than me he went ahead on the escalators and we were able to kiss quite comfortably with me on the step above his.  At his house he poured us some red wine and we settled on his large bed-like sofa.  He put on some music and we kissed and undressed each other.  He removed his glasses, without which he looked even younger than his 46 years.  We explored each other’s bodies and I found that he had lovely smooth and strong hands.  I was very, very turned on and when he removed his pants I could see that he had a curved hard on, quite substantial in girth and length but not so large that I should worry about fit.  The curved part was most intriguing and reminded me of a horn.  It was incredibly delicious to ride him and he brought me to climax many, many times.  When he climaxed he made such a lot of noise that I was pretty certain his neighbours from the top of his road must’ve heard him!  I can say that he was the first vocally appreciative lover I’d ever had.  It was fabulous sex and later we talked a little and he showed me some of his toy collection which included tortuously high heeled shoes, a variety of restraints, whips and assorted vibrators.  I went home much later that evening and slept soundly.

The next meeting with Lars was another tryst arranged extempore – he had called me just before six o’clock to find out if I could see him that evening.  I was on my way to meet someone whom I had had a feeling would not be as fun and so I said yes after confirming that Lars was comfortable with seeing me straight after that.  I left my first date after we managed to find a suitable place for a quickie in cover of the dark in one of the parks, against a tree and went straight home for a quick wash before letting Lars know that I was on my way.

The following day he sent me effusive messages extolling the parts of me he had enjoyed the previous evening.  He continued sending me intermittent messages during his holiday in the French Alps and indicated a desire to meet up again on his return.  I’d got into a fairly confident routine with Lars, sufficiently that I was comfortable enough to reveal my real name to him.  He may yet become one of Amy’s regular lovers.

Just came through the tunnel with the train.  Almost in London now! Mmmm, can’t wait to see you again you naughty girl! Missed your juices and your amazing tits, bottom, lips and beautiful and cheeky smile!  How does today pan out for you?  Any chance of a visit …?

So it would appear that I might have a date that evening except that I already had a pre-arranged one at half past five in the afternoon. With dinner thrown in, … possibly. I guess I was mercenary enough not to jettison the dinner date however much the appeal of a fulfilling time was with Lars.  After all he could always be dessert, I reasoned.

The advantage of these spontaneous dates was that it lifted the day and added a little excitement to an otherwise dull one.  Having been out for a brief stroll and eaten a small lunch I wasn’t tempted to linger in the cold wind.  Moreover spring had brought with it the inevitable hay fever I suffer.  I tended to keep outdoor jaunts to a minimum then however tempting the weather.

I told my lover that I could be free later, much, much later that evening and suggested a midweek alternative.  He responded that he may have to come back to me on this as he had to check with his partner  – the divinely sexy madam dominatrix – this was the image I had of her as I had no idea what she really looked like since my lover is not sentimental and did not keep any photographs in his house, not that I’d noticed as we’d always been pretty much preoccupied with other more urgent business the few times I visited.

When I saw my lover that evening he was sporting a tiny bruise under his chin from the little skiing accident the week before.  Apart from that he was exactly the same and after a few exchanges of pleasantries we went straight into re-enacting the scene with the two-backed beast.  We were so hungry for each other’s touch that it was only much later when we were completely spent that I noticed he had very thoughtfully laid out some of his toys – a rope, a vibrator and some nipple clamps – oh well, next time perhaps…

Dating Max

Last week I’d gone over to Max’s and we played tennis and then on to a show in the West End.  We didn’t see each other over the Easter weekend as we each had other plans.  On Monday morning, a bank holiday, he sent me the following text message:

Have found your tennis skirt and cut out hole in crotch for access during rematch 🙂 x 

ps not really, well not yet

pps predictive text for rematch is snatch, sorry to lower tone so early in the day

I replied that I enjoyed his lowered tones as the day had dawned with bright sunshine on a background of clear blue skies.  I was in a buoyant mood … until I tried to call him and there was no response.  Oh well, I left him a message teasing him about playing hard to get and went down to chat to my bees.  Just as I’d got my bee jacket on and was about to light the smoker pre-inspection my phone rings.

It was Max telling me he’d been for a walk before knuckling down to do some work.  I had a date with Dexter at half past two I tell him, a first date and Max invited me over to his that evening if I fancied it.  Of course I did I told him.  But I refused to arrange a time knowing what he was like about timekeeping.  When I was ready to leave the house for his I’d call him and he seemed satisfied with that. I got to his at around 8 and we messed about a little before and whilst the spaghetti was cooking, which resulted in it getting just a tad overcooked.  It wasn’t too bad and we tossed in some mozzarella, dried tomatoes, land cress, minced garlic and olive oil.  I grated some gruyere over mine.  M had wrinkled his nose at it earlier.  I had some cloudy sake which M also took a few tentative sips of, but he preferred water instead.  We watched an episode of Dinner Dates as we ate and went out later to get some ice cream and chocolate.  I can see myself getting rounder the longer I continued hanging out with M.

The sex was pretty good considering I wasn’t really in the mood for it.  M said that he felt randier the less randy I was, something about his confidence increasing with lowered expectations on my part.  We’d wanted to try some bum sex since we could remember and finally achieved it in the morning.  I was mildly surprised that it didn’t hurt since M was the most well-endowed of my current coterie of lovers.  Neither of us had had much sleep through the night and M accused me of rendering him ineffectual in the face of his dates the following day with two different women, both of whom he’d slept with in the past, the one he was seeing for lunch at her flat was a past lover, the other for tea, by accident for some awareness-raising project several years previously. He had told another ex-girlfriend recently about me and she expressed mild astonishment that M continued to sleep with me given that I was also having sex with several other men.  His indifference to my promiscuity is confirmation that he is a true feminist.   I am determined not to lose my heart in this relationship and continue to date and sleep with the others.

First week back with Max

Tuesday

I drove to Max’s and called him.  He came down to meet me and we walked up to the high street.  We paused outside a few restaurants before deciding on The Black Lion pub.  It had an ornate ceiling painted in dark red and gold.  The windows were acid etched and decorated with hanging lamp shades in various colours and design.  The menu had a Spanish influence.  After ordering we sat down in front of an open fireplace on a sofa.  A picture perfect setting for our date after a 2 week hiatus.

We talked about my holiday and his job offers and his decision to continue working at his current post although on a different project.  Halfway through our meal the people who were sitting across from us left and were replaced by a young amorous couple.  M remarked that here were another pair openly kissing and cuddling in front of us, reminding me of our first meeting when there were also another though more mature couple who were also deeply intent on each other.   We ourselves kissed a few times but in a more restrained fashion, I’d say decorous and mindful of the fact that we were in a public place, until we returned to his.  There he had very thoughtfully put the heating on and some music.  We kissed more intimately on the sofa and then he lay down and pulled me down beside him.  It wasn’t very comfortable and I felt in danger of tipping over the edge so we decided to go to his bedroom.

We got under the covers and he was a little bolder exploring under my skirt and touching the top of my thighs and bottom.

Mm your skin feels silky soft.

I asked him whether most women had similarly soft skin and he thought some softer than others.  He was to get bolder later on when he brought out some colourful ribbons of ripped sari silks and tied my wrists and ankles to the four sides of his bed.  It was thrilling initially and arousing but when he lay on top of me it began to feel uncomfortable and suddenly i developed a stitch in my right side.  I didn’t want to ruin the mood but later it got more painful and I, a little frantically, asked to be released.  M obliged and  I gratefully cuddled up to him.  After that we made love in a more conventional fashion and eventually fell asleep.  I awoke at around one in the morning and got dressed.  Kissing him goodbye I slipped out and left.  We had arranged to meet up again at the weekend and continued texting and emailing each other in between.

There had been a small misunderstanding before Tuesday which we managed to smooth over and resolve.  It was largely due to his considerate nature and quick response which helped to clear up our quarrel and a few days after that I felt compelled to let him know I appreciated his kindness.   There followed more texting and emailing although less excessively than when we were separated by continents.

I had made arrangements to meet up with someone who had made contact with me about the same time when M got in touch this year.  And although I was looking forward to the date I wondered whether to tell M about it.

Saturday

After the date with S on Friday evening I saw that M had called me.  When I returned his call he was in the bath and asked me what I had been so busy doing as not to have answered the phone.  I could have made up a story but I wanted to be honest and told him the truth.  I think M felt a twinge of jealousy and I offered to drive down to see him.

We watched a programme which M told me might feature a colleague but we may have missed his appearance as it was already halfway through when we started watching.  I was sitting against M and when the programme ended he kissed me and we ended up in bed.  We fucked again in the morning just minutes before he had to leave to meet up with an ex-girlfriend.  I surprised myself by not feeling jealous at all.  This is very much out of character and I wondered at the significance – is it significant and what does that say about my relationship with M?

Waterloo Hotel – or how to get over a break-up

The Cook, The Thief, The Wife and Lover – he said referencing incorrectly a Peter Greenaway film.  I tell him that he’d got the order wrong and that it all ends badly.

Tongue in cheek he shot back that he intentionally misquoted the title of the film to see who might respond.  we banter about films and flirt over the message boards of the dating website.  he then boldly suggested that we ought to meet up and if our stars aligned he might make me an indecent proposal.  i playfully asked him how much was at stake.  two hours later i was driving into town.  parking was a tad tricky despite it being the weekend.

It was a busy sunday afternoon at the royal festival hall.  i walked past him as he had glasses on unlike his picture on the dating site.  he called out my name and i laughed my hello.

i look geeky in my glasses don’t i? – he gave an endearingly self-conscious wave with his hand tapping his fingers on the frame.

geek is the new black and i tend to have a thing for nerdy men – i replied, wanting to put him at ease but also sincerely.

there’s a fine line between geeky and nerdy – he smiled ruefully.

i usually like both – i countered.

it was a promising start and we went inside and found a table just as it was being vacated.  he got me a tea and some cake and a coffee for himself.  we carried on talking about our experiences with the dating website.  he had a warm bedside manner i found, as he told me that he was working in the A & E department of the local hospital.  after half an hour or so of pleasant conversation he announced that he’d booked a room in waterloo hotel so that we might have more privacy there.

i told him that it was too sudden and i felt the need for some dutch courage, so we stopped at a pub en route.  he had a rum and coke whilst i had a glass of red wine.  2 more glasses of red later and i began to feel that i just might like to see what he was like in bed.  i explained that i’d never made an assignation such as this before but that i was very much looking forward to it.

it had got quite dark when we left the pub and he took my hand as we walked to the hotel.  when we got into the lift he leaned over and kissed me.  his lips were warm and soft and just as the doors pinged open he darted the hard tip of his tongue between my lips and withdrew it quickly.  it was a startling experience and i realised that i’d had my eyes closed mid-kiss when my lids sprang open at this quick jab.  he was already out of the lift and i followed him rather foolishly into the corridor.  he opened the door to a room and i was surprised at how small it was.

as the door closed to he moved to the window and drew the curtains.  i kicked off my shoes and watched as he began to undress himself.  i removed my coat and jacket but was suddenly paralysed with embarrassment.  what am i doing here?  do i really want this?  these questions ran all over my brain and i suddenly wasn’t sure.  but a large part of me was very curious about the experience and i knew that really i wanted to see it to the end – an uncomplicated coupling with no expectation of a relationship and no regrets.

when he was down to his vest and shorts he came over and asked me if i would like a cup of tea.  i laughed and shook my head.  he sat me down on the bed and held the sides of my head in his hands and kissed me again.  this time his tongue softly explored the inside of my mouth which i found incredibly arousing.  he pushed me into the middle of the bed and slid his hands under my top.  he bent over and took my right nipple into his mouth, lightly flicking his tongue around it and then he turned his attention to my left breast and sucked on my left nipple.  eventually he pulled my top off over my head and ran his lips and tongue over my belly, my wrinkled, wobbly middle-aged saggy belly and further down between my legs.  he slipped my knickers off and licked me with his pointy hard tongue.  mm you’re very wet and slippery – he looked up at me and i thought how dark his grey eyes were in his pale white face with very short greying hair, a salt and pepper hue.  i stroked his head and marvelled at the softness of his hair which looked as though it should be hard and bristly.  what was hard was the tip of his tongue as he flicked and jabbed it at that part of me which wanted to feel softness, the softness that i knew it was capable of turning into as it had done when he had plunged it relaxed and warm in my mouth earlier.

he got onto his knees on the floor and pulled me to the edge of the bed and continued to pleasure me, hard and then soft in turn until i felt i could not take anymore.  i wondered at my boldness when i asked him to insert two fingers inside me.  as i gripped them i came over and over in waves.  when i had stopped, he withdrew his fingers and i watched him lick them with sensuous deliberation.  he knelt over me and slid his cock out over the tops of his shorts.  it was very hard but not overly big – i reached into my handbag and took out a condom.  it was better to be safe as we did not know each other very well.

when we had had our fill of lust that afternoon we both dozed off in exhaustion.  i had a quick wash and got ready to leave my replete lover.  he made me promise to text him when i got home.  i did and that was the end of it – neither of us has contacted the other since.

lilith’s sultry song

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Three Lovers by Theodore Gericault

i had him before you and i know him well

he’ll soon tire of you and where will you go?

come to bed with us, and i’ll keep you safe

lovers us three, you, with soft milkiness

drink the honey that pours ‘tween olive lips

of darken’d warm desiring – like heaven

on this earthly bed we can re-create

pools of liquid rapture, embalming love

a moment in the shed

i think i have a few in the shed – she led the way down to the end of the garden.

i don’t think i’ve ever ventured into the grounds before – he says tongue firmly in cheek.

be careful as it can be a little slippery here.

inside the aladdin’s cave of the usual bric a brac that can be found together with gardening tools and in her case spare beekeeping equipment as well, she was on a sofa peering into an old ikea wardrobe – the cheap kind with a cotton curtain instead of a door.  she brings out a number of small buckets.

will they do?

he selects 2 and as she turns her back to him again putting the rest back into the wardrobe, he couldn’t help reaching out to stroke the back of her neck, his other hand on her bottom.  she straightens up but does not turn around.  he leans down to kiss the back of her neck softly and slowly.  he could feel her relax and lean into him, an appreciative moan escaping her lips.  his hands come round to the front and tries to undo her trousers.  as his fingers slip into her knickers and touches the moistness between her lips there, she brings her hands round behind her and impatiently undoes his jeans.  he continues kissing her neck knowing that it’s the cause of the frenzy in her as she next tugs at the buttons on the front of his pants, until eventually she slips one hand in.

he gasps when he feels her cool fingers grasp his cock, pull it through the opening in his shorts, and then in one swift movement she bends down and takes it into her mouth.  he laces his fingers in her hair as she wraps her lips around his growing hard on.  the sounds of her licking and sucking him, including the sight of his cock disappearing in and then reappearing outside her mouth kept him hard and he brings his hand down involuntarily, enjoying the sensation of wanking himself as her lips and tongue play with the tip.  when she glances up at him, his eyes were closed concentrating on the moment.

after a while, she gets on the sofa on her knees and bends over the back of it, offering her back to him.  the wetness of her pussy glistens darkly in the dimness of the shed when he parts her butt cheeks.  earlier he had taken some pictures of this in her bedroom upstairs, except that now he keenly wanted to feel the heat of her pussy around his cock.  she cries out her pleasure when he enters that slippery lair.  to her delight he gets into a satisfying rhythm which only serves to intensify that feeling for her – at the edge of coming, not quite.

this is one of the more urgent aspects of their relationship.  they meet up once or twice a week ostensibly to fuck but a tendresse develops in spite of herself.  she hates it and sees it as a weakness which if she is unable to shake off, coaches herself against indulging and tries to put obstacles in the way of it.

it almost succeeds as he finds it frustrating and hugely annoying trying to understand this woman who will not enjoy the thing which is plainly there but will keep on looking ahead for an end to it all.

Amy G’s dilemma

there was a time when i was not in love –

delighted in equal measure at all my dates

always managed a delectable few hours with each one.

there was the possibility of kisses –

the anticipation of these

at the back of taxis

in the corridors of underground stations

and at street corners before parting

in dark passages off the beaten track

in the last row of cinemas as the film played on

walking along the Thames or a wooded glade.

since meeting my lover it hasn’t been the same

His are now the kisses i ache for, i count

the spans of time until we meet again.