9 Kisses

It is Navratri tonight. Not the annual Hindu festival observed in October but a night of worship nevertheless. It is the night I worship the Goddess in you and the reference to nine comes from the number of carefully placed pecks over the course of the night.

As you and I walk on the silver sands glistening in the setting sun, you let go of my hand and instead choose to wrap your arm around mine and rest your head on my shoulder. As the doors shut behind us in the beachside cottage, I reciprocate the closeness by holding you and eagerly look into your eyes. Your eyes widen into a smile in anticipation of what is to come. With your back to the door, you lean back as I close in on her forehead with my eyes half shut. As my dry pursed lips make first contact with your skin, your body throws a hissing fit at the intrusion of a stranger’s lips. Your heart calms the rest of your body down for it knows that those aren’t the lips of a stranger. You shut your eyes and break into a smile as the full import of that moment dawns on you. The dry pursed lips barely make contact but certainly register as I carefully deposit my very first peck.

I pull back to look into your eyes to take stock of the situation. Your pupils still dilated, your breathing very slightly unsettled and your mouth agape, it seems like your heart applauds the peck but the rest of you is a bit surprised. I take your right hand and without breaking the gaze lovingly place a peck on it to reassure and the third peck lands on your left hand. The pecks on the hands appear to settle you down a bit.

Heartened by how you now seemed more settled, I lean forward for what is to be the tenderest of the nine. With lips still dry and pursed I barely brush against your eyelids that instinctively shut in anticipation as the fourth peck of the night lands on your left eye followed by the right eye making room for the fifth.

As I pull back and the gaze still locked, the mood decisively shifts away from the initial surprise to one of fulfilment and warm togetherness.

Almost as if answering a calling, I head for the spot where I find tremendous warmth and comfort in burying my face for the sixth. I kneel in front of you and after shifting your saree ever so slightly to help access, I bury my face into your tummy to deposit the next one. And the theme departs from being dry and pursed lips. This one feels moist, a bit more eager and a bit longer even as you instinctively arch your hips back, close your eyes and look up as the warm sensations from the attention spread through your stomach.

Pradarshan of the Goddess is a form of worship and in keeping with the practice I nudge you to turn to face the door even as I remain knelt in worship. The seventh lands on your lower back even as I hold you by the sides of your hips with my warm hands. The sensations on your back are amplified by a certain helplessness that comes with being unable to respond to attention being showered on one’s back.

I stand up and now holding you by your waist, I lean slightly forward to carefully place the eight on your upper back after pushing your hair aside.

For the ninth and final peck of the night I surprise you slightly by holding you from behind in a tight embrace and lean forward to playfully and lovingly place a loving kiss on the side of your neck.