This is a response to a New Professionals-challenge to write a short thingy about a kiss.
Any kind of kiss, as long as a kiss was involved.

It's not betaed or edited, by the way.

Chris looked at the woman who had just entered the bar. She stood still, looking somewhat indecisive for a moment, as if she was thinking of what to do next. Then she walked over to the coat hanger, took off her coat and that instantly took Chris' breath away.

She was dressed in a sleeveless black leather catsuit, which emphasised her tall, slender body perfectly. Long legs, tight behind, flat stomach and beautifully shaped breasts were wrapped in the tight dark fabric like Quality Street candy in semi-transparent paper. Waiting to be taken, Chris thought.

When she turned around she spotted the empty stool next to Chris and calmly walked over to it. She didn't even once look at him - or at any of the men present, Chris realised. She sat down on the stool, almost turning her back to him and asked the bartender with a deep, sensual voice for a Bacardi-Coke.

Now that she was so close Chris couldn't resist the temptation and studied her more closely. He saw her en profile and what he saw stunned him even more. Her deep, big brown eyes with long, glittering lashes that blinked slowly were the first things that he was attracted to. Her nose was perfectly shaped, Cleopatra worthy. Her skin, in this shady light, looked as soft as a peach. Her dark brown hair was tied together with a single elegant hairpin and very refined one loose strand of hair curled down her feminine soft chin line. But what really worked like a magnet on Chris' eyes were her lips.

Their colour was deep red, reminding him of a Burgundy wine that he once drank in an expensive restaurant. The highlight that shimmered dully gave them a moist appearance. When she took a sip from her drink, he followed the movement of those lips as she pressed the glass gently against her lower lip and drank the fluid. She put the glass down and slowly she licked a drop of the Coke from her upper lip. The mere sight of her tongue, just peeping out for an instant, pushed a wild desire through Chris' body and he noticed he was aroused.

"I'm a Bacardi lover myself - can I buy you that drink?" he said, hoping that she wouldn't notice his somewhat unstable voice.

"Excuse me, but have I got 'fuck me' written on my forehead?" she answered very coolly. The expressive dark eyes cast an icy glance at him.

"That's not an original line - you've got that from err… what is it…err… Cocktail!" he said, secretly feeling triumphant that he recognised it and knew where it came from.

To his surprise she offered him a little smile and nodded. "You know your movies, Spiky."

He grinned because of the name she called him. When she smiled back he saw perfect teeth, white and spotless. The red lips curled up in amused pleasure. Chris, my boy, you've hit the jackpot, he mused, looking forward to what was to come.

"You're a beautiful woman. That's what's written all over you." he released his charms on her. She followed the edge of her glass with a long red enamelled nail. He could see she was pleased with the compliment and thought once again how easy some women could be persuaded into more than just socialising...

He babbled on for a little, letting the compliments and casual questions flow. He touched her sun tanned, naked arm and saw the skin reacting, the way he could feel the goose bumps crawling over his own spine as well.

Then, inevitably but still unexpectedly she leant forwards and kissed him. Those Burgundy lips touched his, her tongue probed and he stiffened, then froze. When she let go of him he could see the confusion in her eyes.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as he clumsily slid down the stool and zipped up his jacket.

"It's me - sorry, I'm not… sorry. Have to go." He staggered backwards, raised his hand as a vague salute and sped to the door. Fresh air, he thought, I need fresh air desperately.

Outside he bumped straight into Sam who was just about to come in.

"Hi Chris. I thought you… hey - what's wrong?"

"Peek in, Curtis. Look at the bar. What d'you see?"

Sam did as he was told. There was no way he could not see the beautiful woman at the bar.

"That girl?" He looked back at Chris. "You? And her?"

"That," said Chris and pulled Sam away from the door "was the worst kiss I've encountered in my entire life. Let's go."

"Hang on. Worst kiss?"

The American nodded and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Definitely. A case of bad breath."

Sam chuckled. "Bad breath?"

"Yep. A taste of thousand dead birds. A manure heap. Death and destruction. A lifetime of garlic, onions and cigarettes."

He shivered and Sam laughed as he said: "Let's go. I've kissed enough for one night."

Elsa - March 2001. Feedback is always welcome - mail me!