“I think you should kiss me.”
We had just gotten back from the bar, and she was lying back on the steps to the front porch, smoking a cigarette. I stood a few paces away, happy to be outside. It was the middle of the night, and the street was dead quiet. One of those nights where you don't even feel the air, and the world is at peace. A few beers in; feeling happy and feeling loose. Feeling the possibilities.
“I don't think that's a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because if I come over there and kiss you, I'm not going to want to stop.”
She and I had been friends for years, after being introduced by a guy who was a mutual friend. She and I got along really well; we still do, and that's the beauty of it. I don't know exactly how it happened, but she and I became very comfortable without friendship. We would have fun and joke around, talk about our respective relationships or life issues, thrift shop, drink, step outside for a smoke – you name it, we did it. We would also enjoy casual physical contact, flirt innocently, and hug whenever we met up and parted ways. All in total comfort; never any sexual tension whatsoever. Don't get me wrong, I always did and still do think she is totally sexy. She is an artist and a free spirit, and I love her. But it's always been about the friendship, and I have always been totally happy that way. And that's how the cuddling started.