I had not been kissed in thirty-one years.
I lived a mostly celibate life anyway. Those who knew me well, of course, knew of my sexuality, but I did what was necessary to keep that (as most details of my life) private. But there she was, all of thirty-four, apparently lusting after an old woman. Apparently having done so for nearly twenty years, with a marriage and children in between. It would be an understatement to say that I was dumbfounded.
But with her hands in my newly-liberated hair, and mine placed tentatively around her waist, I could recall nothing sweeter than the silk of her lips.
