Just a fantasy. Nothing more or less.
He was sexy. There was no denying that. He also scared me. I remember the flash of wonder, "What would it be like?"
I didn't want to get physical. The thought didn't cross my mind. All I wondered is What would it be like to to taste those lips?
I see it in my mind. We're in a tete a tete and I lean in close, touch my moth to a cheek perhaps, maybe lips. If I am lucky there will be lips.
Would he be surprised? Then he'd recover, pull me close, kiss me back. Warm strong lips.
Could I acquire a new taste for beer in the depths of his mouth?
I swoon, visibly I fear, at the thought of tangling tongues. I have to walk away, to regain control.
His hands look capable. If I let myself I could imagine them all over my body. I could weave a fantasy where they elicit delighted gasps and waves of pleasure.
But, those thoughts lead down a dark path. Hiding away in the dark, to do what I swore I didn't want to do.
I don't want to even really share a kiss. It's enough to imagine, to fantasize. It's fun to dream what could be without indulging one bit in setting forth into reality.