Misty had been, as she was at that moment, quite. Content to reach out and hold onto Miranda with a slight smile crossing her face from time to time. ... still, unmoving monument to deep contentment and a beautiful reminder of the love they both shared. Only now, she was alone. Her hand reaching out to where her beloved had been, her fingers desperately gripping at one of Miranda's overstuffed pillows, and looking so forlorn that it nearly broke Miranda's heart to simply leave her there."I love. I would love to kiss you. You have beautiful lips, I know what boys like. I was a boy once. Even a grown man like me would love to kiss those lips.”His words went through me like lightening. I looked over at him, leaning back, his shirt taught across his hard chest as he took a swig of beer. Would a man like him kiss someone like me? He was much older and I’d never thought of older men, being so focused on my lack of experience with boys. If he kissed me and I wasn’t good at it, no one at. More

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