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THE KISS – EXTRACT FROM THE SWIMMER AT THE GRAFTON ARMS
He is drunk She is tipsy
They are in a pub on a warm, sunny Spring day, somewhere in the urban London. In total silence, he sits there and looks deep into her eyes. He says, ‘you are lovely’.
He leans forward and runs his fingers into the side of her head and grabs her hair, pulling her towards his face. His nose touches the edge of hers, his warm breath penetrates into the pores of her skin. His big hand grips her hair, pulling by her jaw, the other strokes the opposite side slowly and intimately.
He kisses her tenderly on one side of her lips She kiss him back on the other side of his lips
They are frozen in a moment of rush. Gushing butterflies flapping inside their bodies heading towards their hearts, beating, flapping, electrifying, becoming one herd entering in and exiting out of a long kiss through each of their bodies.
He parts his lips to kiss her again, slowly with the intent of all his emotions and she feels her heart pumping faster and faster. She can feel every inch of him in his touch, in his kiss and reciprocate.
He draws back an inch and she kisses his fingers. He looks at her with his the most serious eyes and whispers, ‘did you hear that?’ ‘No.’ ‘It was very loud.’ ‘What was?’ ‘How you moved me.’