The lameness of expression

We’re at my flat. Talking about what we generally talk about when we’re not having discussions, or telling each other how bad college is. She laughs, throwing her head back;
I notice how beautiful she looks. Her kohl lined eyes laughing at me, her hair framing her sharp face in a delightful portrait. I take in the image of her sitting in front of me on the lazy boy, one leg folded under her, the other, marble smooth, thrown on the armrest. My ears are warm and I have butterflies in my stomach. Though I’m making normal conversation I have a feeling that I’m drunk, dizzy; and I think, as I have thousands of times in the brief period that I have known her ‘why does she have this effect on me?’

We had met a week ago, at a mutual friends’ place. She had been introduced to me as Naina; I was immediately stuck by her gorgeous eyes and the aptness of her name. It was evident that she was as bored with the people around as I was. All I remember of the party now is that we had a long conversation about almost everything. I asked her for her number which she gave me without hesitation; I offered her a lift home, that she politely declined.

I have known her over two cups of coffee and some ten hours of telephone conversation. And here she sits in front of me, talking, laughing as if we’ve known each other for years. I get up, possessed, and walk to her. Her laugh sputters to a stop. Looking into her dreamy eyes, I flick away a strand of hair from her face. It is the first time I have touched her. The next moment she is in my embrace and I feel her breath on my face as our lips meet. I feel as if I have been electrocuted. A spasm moves through her as she hugs me tighter. I do the same, holding her in a crushing hug. Her lips are tender; feeling like honey on my own as they move exploring the contours of my mouth.
I smell her, and it does not feel like a perfume she’s wearing; rather it is her smell. Her breasts press hard against me. I feel her chest heave as she breaths hard. My hand moves along her spine and I hold her head, my fingers caressing her hair. And then it happens, our tongues meet, like lances of champions in a joust. Fireworks explode inside my head. I’m not sure if I am sitting or standing, and I realize how it feels to lose sense of space and time. Sensations explode inside me; sensations I have never felt before; I feel fire and I feel ice. A current flows through me, sparking at my ends. My ears are hot and my heart is thumping with audible intensity. Her hands move over my neck, touching my ears; as if soothing them, and then caressing my hair they suddenly press my head towards her in a furious, almost animate movement. Our tongues are fighting a furious battle for one moment and in the next both surrender, as if a truce has been reached.
My grip on her loosens, as our tongues retreat. I let out a heave of breath and open my eyes to meet hers. There are sparks there, as they laugh, almost mockingly at me. Her lips leave mine, a heavenly taste lingers. She looks like a fairy; I drink in the angelic face. She licks her lips in a mischievous movement and smiles etching in my brain an image that I’d never forget.

A first kiss, they call it. A very lame expression, bound by language I’ll say.