Ami dekhte pachchilam or sharirer onuvuthi onno rokhom hochche.O chuke buje amar angul o hat or gudhe chepe dhorche.Ami bollam,”Achcha Sumi tui hisu...korish kivabe? Tur amar moto nunu nei?”She uttor dilo,”dheth,tumi ekta buka,oito okhane futo ache,okane hisu beroy.”Tarpor bigger moto kichukkhon pore bollo,”Amar pechone to aro ekta futo ache,jekhan diye hagu kori.Juke jodi okhane dhuke,Ota o boro kore dao na,Bhaiya?Tar por abar bollo,”Tumar oto pechoner futota boro kora dorkar jodi juke. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back. I put my hand on his face. I didn’t have to do anything else. He pulled me close to him. It was inevitable. His hand reached up to my face. His lips slowly moved to mine for what felt like an eternity. And then his lips met mine. I swear I felt a spark. First a hard short kiss then one long, slow kiss and he pulled away. It was the kind of kiss that left you wanting, no needing, more. He un-entwined himself from me. ‘I…I’m. I’m, umm…’He stammered. ‘Please. More

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