The ritual was due,
It ought to be undertook,
By him,by they,
He had to see her,
He had to bid her goodbye,
With a gift in hand,
Lots of mints on his mouth,
He quickened his steps.
He knocked,he rung,
He knocked again,he rung again,
On the third knock,
The door was opened,
Opened widely just for him,
He saw his angel,
Her eyes were sleepy,
Alone in their sweet home,
In a top of the line dress,
With thighs half visible,
She was pure sin,
She was total grace,
The paradigm of natural beauty.
He was an amateur,
She was a pro,
He didn’t know when to start,
How to ask,
She took the bulls by the horns,
She led him,showed him,
On their armchair she sat,
Between her sexy thighs he stood,
He cupped her face in his hands,
Crushed down his mouth on hers,
Kissed her with such slow tempo,
Such deep concentration,
Giving her hints of dark and dangerous needs,
Hints of hot blooded urgency,
It gentled,
Left her confused and unsteady,
Left him with a hard on,
He was overwhelmed,
He withdrawn,
Then fled.
What a first kiss?
_First love._
_The platonic king._