." and I lean over and kiss you, softly tugging your lower lips into my mouth, feeling the warmth of your tongue, the wetness. Moaning softly as I fee... you return the kiss, our tongue dancing as old friends together. Warm, soft, wet, tasting you, wanting you. "... kissable." I finish with a smile.My hand reaches up and I brush a strand of your hair back from your forehead, letting the tips of my fingers brush lightly across your face. Cupping your chin, running the tips behind your ear, along. Just seeing if you were interested in going out for some drinks tonight.’ Before she had time to feel regret or embarrassment, (or wonder if Carly had remembered to send the feel-out message), Natalie’s phone rang. Shit. It was Andrew, of course. Why did some people refuse to understand that a text message means you either can’t or don’t want to talk? ‘Hello?’ Natalie answered nonchalantly. ‘Hey, Natalie,’ a cool, male voice responded, ‘It’s Andrew, I just got your text.’ ‘Hi, Andrew,’ Natalie. More

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