The Kiss

The Kiss by Ozzy Cross





         Man she fucked me up when she kissed me.

         After a long night of drinking, her and a few of my friends ended up back at my place. Even though I had never before met her, I felt that it was perfectly O.K. for me to help her stumble up stairs to the bathroom and wait in the hall while she did what ever she needed to do then fumble for the toilet paper.

         Now mind you, seeing what I would have seen if I had peeked was not my thing but, I had to convince myself not to over and over again. You see, I just went up with her to be a decent host. You know, help her find the light switch, make sure she didn’t fall back down the stairs, pass out and hit her head on the tub, or to become an instant hair holder if this pee break became turned into a sudden puking session.

         I found myself standing in the hallway debating with myself, “She’s single, I hope. I’m single, definitely. She maybe drunk enough not to notice a quick glance. Of course she may be sober enough to bust me and scream out or go back downstairs and tell everyone what a pee watching pervert I am. Or maybe she will see me, notice my interest and it will become something more like a boyfriend/girlfriend type thing, or at least a night to remember…. For one of us anyways.”

         No matter what I told myself, I always ended up thinking, “No don’t. No don’t.”

         I’m not sure if at this point if I were still thinking my words or whispering out loud to myself, ’cause suddenly I felt the warm soft touch of a woman’s hand reach from behind and touch my hip. Thinking she was merely finished and needed help back down the stairs to the gathering in my living room. I turned a little toward her. Her hand helped me turn the rest of the way, facing her. After I found myself face to face with her, I felt her free hand grab my other hip. She softly kissed my lips. Then, not quite a French kiss but, our tongues touched together a time or two. She then pulled away and went back down the stairs with more ease than she came up them, while acting as if nothing had happened.

         Sort of confused as to whether or not having to go to the restroom was just a way to get me to follow her and be alone for a second, or if she was just playing games, I followed her down helping her the best I felt I needed to.

         Finally, we reached our group and I figured I’d sit beside her in the hopes that something more would happen between us. To my disappointment, she b-lined straight to the center of the couch and was now surrounded by people, leaving no room for me.

         I went on like nothing happened, as I felt she was doing, and continued to mingle with my friends. By now I’m guessing that our kiss was just something that the alcohol in her system convinced her to do. Discouraged, I tried to put it out of my mind, which was hard to do because just when I’d almost forget about it, I’d catch her staring at me, and just when I’d look her way she’d look away and try to play it off as if she had never looked to begin with.

         I kept thinking to myself, “Before she leaves I’ll try to talk to her and maybe get a more meaningful kiss.” Sure enough, to my luck, I saw her kiss another guy in the kitchen, much like the way she kissed me.

         Heart broken, I started to think of her as a whore, a tramp, a tease. This also became hard to do, barring the fact that I have kissed a lot of girls, that kiss she gave me was the softest, warmest, body numbing kiss I have ever taken part in.

          “I still have to get her before she leaves!”, I yelled out inside my head.

         “Even if I don’t get to keep her. If that short kiss we had was so wonderful, the rest has got to be amazing.”, I thought.

         Once again, my luck, the worst thing happened. I had to go to the bathroom myself. That means she’d have to leave my sight for a few minutes.

         For those of you who are hopeless romantics, no, she didn’t follow me upstairs and kiss me again. For those of you who are more of the intelligent kind, you’re probably right. She had left by the time I had returned.

         I didn’t even know her name. I know, how can you spend time around some one like that and not know her name? I don’t know what to say except, we were never introduced. No one ever said her name so that I may have heard it, and she never gave me a chance to talk to her long enough to ask. Not to mention the fact that when she left I was so bummed that I didn’t even think to ask anyone, at the time, who she was.

         That night, I lay in bed next to my special “no one” and stared at the ceiling. All I could think of was the eyes, the smell and the lips of the woman that I thought I would never see again.

         The following morning, I woke up thinking about her. I lit my morning cigarette thinking about her, took my shower thinking about her, brushed my teeth thinking about her, dried my hair, got dressed and skipped breakfast all while thinking about her.

         I didn’t have to work that day so I figured I’d take a walk and try to get her out of my mind. Not happening. It seemed that every other woman I saw, be it driving a car or walking. They not just looked like her but looked as if they were actually her. I gave them all double looks to make sure I wasn’t just seeing things. Then suddenly, I started seeing two, three, four at a time. Each one seemed to be giving me that same look she gave me that night in my living room.

         “I’ve got to get off the streets.”, I actually said out loud and headed back home.

         Once back at my place, I got on the phone and called for pizza just before I threw in a movie to escape with. When the pizza arrived the girl that delivered it was, in my mind, her. I kept staring at her and she kept giving me a look as if to say, “Stop gawking and give me my fucking money.”

         I waited for a moment to give my new love a chance to say something but all she said was, “Eighteen ninety-five.”

         I handed her a twenty and motioned for her to keep the change then closed the door.

         I spent the whole day going through this and let out a sigh of relief when I felt myself get tired early. I went to bed and fell fast asleep. Thank God!

         I woke, or at least thought I did, in the middle of the night to find her standing at the foot of my bed, naked. She reached out to me and I sat up. She then walked around the foot of the bed and in one swift motion, she sat down, leaned in and gave me the same kiss she had given to me in my hallway only a night before. Except, this time, she moved down to my neck and gave me the same kiss there, with her soft lips and tongue pressed against my flesh.

         My luck again, my alarm sounded. I woke up, reached over and turned the alarm off. I started to sit up and when my muscles started to tighten, my neck, where she had kissed me started to ache as if I had slept wrong. I fell back onto my pillow and felt drained.

         For those of you who like to guess a story rather than just read on, no, she’s not a vampire. Don’t feel bad, even I got up and looked in the mirror for punctures. Silly, huh?

         Pulling myself together, I got dressed and went to work.

         Now at work, I saw her every where again. Even women I knew weren’t her looked as if they were.

         When I got home I watched T.V. and a couple of movies. Not any of the main actresses, but women in the background such as waitress’ or someone crossing the street, looked like her. I considered throwing a porn just to see but something told me not to.

         I finally got tired and went up to bed.

         Once more she appeared to me naked and kissed me just like the night before, first on the mouth but this time instead of my neck she kissed my arm. When I awoke, my neck ached, as it did the first morning, and now my arm ached as well. Once again I felt wasted.

         Seeing her everywhere and getting kisses from her in my dreams went on for about a week. Each night she kissed me on the mouth then kissed me on a different body part (don’t get carried away). Every morning the body part she kissed, plus all of the places she kissed on nights since passed, would ache and I’d feel spent even though I had just woke up.

         Finally I decided that I have got to find out who she is and what exactly is going on. I know, why didn’t I do that before? I just didn’t, O.K.!?!

         I called a couple of my friends that were there, at my house that night, to see if they knew who she was. They didn’t even remember. Assuming they were either to drunk that night to recall or they were fucking with my head, I called everyone else that was there. Even the other guy she had kissed had no recollection of ever seeing her. Frustrated, I went to the last bar my friends and I were at that night and asked the bouncers and bartenders if they remembered her and if they knew who she was. They couldn’t help me either.

         How could a woman so hot and beautiful, who left such an impact on me and who is now putting me through hell only be part of my imagination?

         That night I dreamt of her again and the same thing happened, only this time, when I woke up the vast majority of my body ached.

         I got up and started my day, but this day was so busy I didn’t think of her or see her. Not even once.

         That night I fell asleep still not thinking of her and amazingly, I also didn’t dream of her. When I awoke, none of my body ached. I came to the conclusion that if I don’t think about her or think I see her throughout the day, I won’t dream about her that night. The bad part about it was, realizing this made me wander more about who she was, what was going on with me and what I may have done to deserve it. Although I didn’t think I saw her that day, she was still in my dreams that night. This time she kissed me on the lips and then kissed me on my chest just above my heart.

         I’m going to cut this story short by telling you that I never did find out who she was and by giving you some advise. I don’t know who can really say if curiosity actually kills the cat, but I can say that sometimes lust and puppy love is best just left alone for there are more important things in life such as… well, life and perhaps real love. And that you can take from a ghost who knows.