"You can't kiss me until you've shaved." My hand going to your face to caress the hard stubble there. You lean in anyway as I step back. Your arms coming up around me to hold me still. I can feel your breath against my lips, the softest caress there is.
You look deep into my eyes, your face a mask of determination... and desire. I turn my head away to avoid the contact. Your eyes drop and you run your sandpaper face against my neck making me quiver and moan. I can feel my body respond to the intimate touch as your lips and tongue slide over the newly sensitized skin. You continue to hold me, pushing me back until I'm against the wall, keeping me captive.
I gaze into your eyes already lost in my desire for you. You smile in triumph as your lips settle over mine, gently, careful to avoid abrading my skin. But as your fingers begin to slide under my clothes I find myself unable to resist. I feel no pain. Only passion. I kiss you back with all the excitement you make me feel every time you touch me.
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