Young lovers in the Sun

Her face is pale and round, baby fat still evident, curly black hair long and disheveled. She is too young for me but I don’t care. I’m hoping she doesn’t either. I look into those eyes and trace the line of her cheek bone down to her jaw with my fingers. The first touch is always magical. The touch, the look, the hunger, the hint of possibility in the air, it always makes me smile. I want to stop and capture this moment where the hook is set and I just need to reel. Our place in time seems to stick, the feeling of fear, excitement, lust, they hang in the air like a naughty Rockefeller. She reminds me of a doe in the woods large limpid eyes full of life waiting, luscious, ripe, ready. I move in for the kiss bending down and to the right, our lips brush and her lips stay closed. Her eyes are open looking at me, I kiss deeper almost biting on her lower lip opening her mouth to mine. Her eyes widen and she is unsure. My right hand moves behind her neck where the skin and hair meet. Our teeth bump and I let loose a small laugh. She freezes then giggles; and she is back warm, alive and fully there in the moment with me. We laugh while our hands move over each others bodies. We kiss through smiles, the tension broken, young lover in the sun oblivious to the world around us.