A recent heartbreak had thrown me off kilter, and a good friend and his lovely girlfriend were leaving town. Plus, Sam and Melissa (not their real names) had done this before. As their goodbye party wound to a close, we were dancing in bare feet, a little St. Regis Death Trip by Jerry Stahltipsy on sangria, a little high on the view of the city they were leaving, a little emotional. I sat on the couch. Melissa leaned in next to me. I put my arm around her shoulder. She lay her head in my lap. I started running my fingers through her hair. Every time her hair slipped through my fingers, I could feel the heat rising between my legs.
She turned her face towards mine and her lips moved up closer, and then Sam was on the other side of me, leaning gently on my shoulder, encouraging this kiss. I could feel Sam's breath on the back of my neck as he watched our lips meet. I had kissed a woman before then, but it was nothing like this: This was softer, and more electric.
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