Just One Kiss

Just one kiss and I can get you in bed. Sounds preposterous right? Maybe. Yet ….

Read the beginning of Just One Kiss. A short erotic story available for only a dollar. Just One Kiss

Just One Kiss

By: C. Stuart Lewis

The clinking of glasses, conversation and loud music washed over the bar like the stale water of an inland pond.  I sat at a table a few feet from the bar.  Alone.  As usual. One Long Island Iced Tea half done in front of me, an empty glass at the other end of the small table. The remnants of my first Long Island, discarded and dismissed.  Unlike me, it was waiting to be joined shortly.

He sat down in the empty chair across from me. He was not my type.  Short brown hair, brown eyes, average hands.  I like a man with big hands. He leaned over the table.

“I bet I can get you into bed with me with just one kiss.”

I smiled.  What kind of lame ass line is that?

“I’m not that drunk,” I looked down at my glass.  He couldn’t have slipped anything in it.  I brought the highball glass to my lips and downed the remainder of my drink, “And I’ll never be that drunk.”

He smiled, not in any way discouraged.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. The name is Shawn, with a ‘w’ not an ‘e’. I couldn’t help noticing you’re here by yourself. A pretty woman like you should have some company.”  Again he smiled.

Damn, boy, you smile too much.  Nothing like having a man tell you that you’re all alone to bring up the old self esteem.

“I’m sure you’re thinking you’re the guy to be my company guy.”

“I was thinking that. In fact I was thinking I’d be great in your bed too.”

There was that same damn smile.  Dude, seriously.  

“I’m doing good, thanks.”
“So, what’s your name Beautiful?”

“No, it’s not Beautiful.”

“Hahaha. That’s a good one. So what’s your name?” he asked again.

“Karen, with a ‘K’”

“Karen. Rolls off the tongue,” he flicked his tongue like a snake, “I’ll be sure to remember it when I’m screaming your name.”

“To the cops?”

He laughed.  It was almost as annoying as his smile.  

“I like you Karen. I was just coming over her to see if I could get laid but I’m starting to like you. Of course I still want to get laid.”  Again with that damn smile.

“Of course. And with just one kiss if I remember.”

“Haha. You’re right.”

“And what I want -”

“Oh, you’ll want it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Come on. Just one kiss and if you want I’ll walk away right after and not talk to you the rest of the night. Hell, you’ll never hear from me again.”

He did make it down right tempting. Just getting rid of him would be worth the kiss by itself.  I haven’t been kissed romantically in months.  A dry spell of sorts.  The feel of lips on lips would be nice. A soft petal brush against … Ugh, look at him.  The soft petal of flowers against the cold glass lips of a beer bottle.  A literal feeding of a pearl to swine.

“Do you smoke?”

He blinked. “Umm no. Why?”

“Just wondering.”  I smiled, a half smile.  At least I won’t have to taste cigarette ash.  Oh what the hell.  “Oh what the hell. I’ll take that kiss. And then you can leave.”

He beamed.  No, seriously, he fucking beamed.

“You won’t regret it.”

He got up and moved his chair beside mine.  He took my hand in his.  His hands were smooth, his thumb rubbed over mine and across each finger, a caress that was surprisingly intimate despite its simplicity. He looked into my eyes, his dirty brown eyes into my steel grey blueish ones, like splashing mud on a chrome fender.  His eyes smiled and I didn’t mind. He held my gaze and leaned forward, closing his eyes a second or two before his lips made contact with mine.

His lips were soft and gentle as they met mine, pressing softly, my lips parted and I breathed him in.  My tongue reached for his, slipping between his lips.  Our tongues danced in our mouths as our lips pressed harder together.  

He pulled back and smiled.  “So good eh.”

Fuck his smile.  But damn, he is a good kisser.  “It was enjoyable.”

“I knew you’d like it. And just think how good the rest of it would be.”

“There is no rest of it.”

“Uh huh,” he grinned. “So what do you like for breakfast?”

“What?”

“Breakfast. You’ll need something to replenish your strength for after we fuck.”

I laughed.  I couldn’t help it.  I was on my third Long Island Iced Tea, thanks to Smiley for paying, and I admired his persistence.  And his complete lack of social awareness.  When the server brought over my drink we shared an ‘omg’ eyeroll and he was totally oblivious. God, I hope she didn’t see me kiss him. I took another long sip of my drink.

He sat there, thankfully without that loathsome smile, waiting. I sat drinking. And thinking of that kiss.  It was like one of those songs that get stuck in your head, but it was on my lips.  Even as my lips were wrapped around the straw, sucking in the warming alcohol the tingle of his lips teased them. It really was a good kiss.

“So what do you like to do for fun?” he asked just in time so that the pause in conversation did not go from lengthy to awkward.

“Nothing. I sit in bars all day and hope I get lucky and my future husband hits on me and we end up drunk somewhere together.”   It was the first time I saw his smile crack and fade.  Probably because it was too close to the truth.  Fuck.  I’m getting drunk.  “What do you do for fun? You seem like a fun guy.”  This time I smiled.

“Oh, that’s easy. I love sports, I play golf, but my handicap is terrible,” he laughed, “I like to think of it more like drinking beer and going for a walk. I also cook and like movies.”

So going out to bars and trying to fuck women is what? A part time job?  Or maybe it’s not as much fun for you either.  Oh yeah, angry drunk Karen is coming out.  Time to wrap this puppy up and put this bitch to bed.

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