Maybe it happens like this: we are sitting on a park bench at dusk, on a warm summer evening. We are talking, casually laughing at each other's jokes as we have many times before. But this time the electricity in the air is stronger; the kind of electricity that is almost better than sex. The anticipation of being 85% sure that you are both thinking the same thing but still feeling too vulnerable to act. The breeze picks up, as it so often does when the sun begins to set, blowing my hair in front of my eyes, and before you have time to stop and think about what you are doing, you reach up and gently tuck it behind my ear. I go still as your hand stalls and your fingertips gently caress my earlobe. I tilt my face up towards yours and your hand drifts down to cup the nape of my neck, your fingers threading through my hair.
Suddenly we aren't talking any more. The whole world around us grows distant and dim and I am staring into your eyes. Your look is part question, part dare, and you slowly lean down and brush your lips against mine as my eyes flutter closed. Such a gentle kiss, asking permission. I part my lips slightly in answer and the kiss deepens, slowly growing hungry as you become more sure. My hands press into your chest. Not to push you away but to feel your strong heart beating under your skin. You softly lick my top lip and tighten your hand in my hair, pulling me closer against your body. I feel a hum strike through me as sparks of electricity shoot from my mouth, down to my belly button, and then straight to my warm, wet center. I moan quietly against your mouth and you press against me harder. My desire fueling your own.
We pull back slightly and your eyes are on fire. I feel soft and dazed with the strength of the passion rolling through my body and you must see it in my face because you let out a low, growl and kiss me again; this time with more determination and confidence, shocking me all the way to my toes. "Let's go," you whisper in my ear, and I suddenly become aware of the world again. The kids in the park, the joggers and roaming packs of laughing teenagers. We get up, and I feel unsteady. Your hand grabs mine and we walk, dazed, towards the street to hail a cab.