just like heaven

So it really wasn't the nuns she was thinking of - though Sister Mercy sat in her psyche like her Grandma on religious steroids - it was Michael. Standing in front of her - shirt half open to a chest she had never seen but had wanted to touch a dozen or so times at really inappropriate moments. Meetings that dragged on where she was taking notes for things she really knew would go no where and amount to nothing and surprisingly - that was the case - but here - alone he was too real. Too exposed and she for the first time in her life felt very very vulnerable. He was the man that she knew she would be able to give herself to fully but that meant dynamiting everything. This was too full - too heavy - she was on the verge of fainting from it's weight. But his smell - that smell - the smell that she recognized but couldn't place - drew her back to his face. And it was his hand - behind her head drawing her lips in that snapped her back to reality. He tasted like she knew he would - sweet but not unearthly - his tongue just tasting hers and inviting more. It was the kiss she knew she had been born for but had waited until now to taste. And yet it was forbidden. So very wrong so adulterous but it was Michael and he was who she wanted. He was the one she would let go of everything for - not knowing the outcome. She would take the leap from the lion's head - if only for the moment and if only for the taste of his mouth. And it was worth every second. His body was hard against hers but supple and inviting and the invitation was there. He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. Asking. Further? Do we? She looked back. Open to his embrace but knowing the outcome.