"I want to kiss you," he said, then took a sip of tea, looking into her eyes. Mithre smiled, and closing her eyes leaned forward with puckered lips. She did not care if anyone at the busy outdoor cafe in the Old Town of Warsaw saw him kiss her. She loved kissing him anywhere and at any time. He laughed and lightly pressed a finger against her perfect lips. "Not here. Not now.

And not just one kiss. I want to kiss you...everywhere. Every single inch of you." Blushing, Mithre sat back in her chair and folded her arms under her breasts. She laughed to hide her nervousness, but her nipples had grown hard, pushing against her bra, and she was curling her toes inside her shoes. "I have never heard of such a thing.

Every inch?" He nodded. From his coat pocket he showed her two first-class train tickets to Krakow. "Go pack for the weekend...and get ready to be kissed." The train ride from Warsaw to Krakow took about two and a half hours, and they held hands all the way, looking out the window and saying little. Mithre pressed her thighs tightly together and wondered why she was almost trembling. He had kissed her before, but only her lips, face, and neck.

Never her most secret places, for she had yet to lie naked in his arms. She tried not to imagine his lips claiming every little piece of her, but, as the train gently rocked her like a lover, it was all she could think about. They reached Krakow in the late morning and a taxi dropped them off at the Grand Hotel, just around the corner from Krakow's main square. While she waited in the lobby with pounding heart and aching nipples, he got the key to Suite 11.

Holding her hand, he opened the door to show her one of the finest rooms in the city. There were two large bathrooms, a gilded ceiling, and a bedroom suitable for a king...and his queen. They left their bags in the room and went down to the hotel cafe for a light lunch. Mithre was nervous, wondering what it was going to feel like to be kissed from head to toe, but found she had an appetite and ate all of the large salad she ordered.

They spoke little, mainly commenting on the hotel and the luxurious room. Sometimes their eyes met, and they both smiled. In the elevator he took her hand and squeezed it. Mithre squeezed back, and they returned to the room hand in hand.

He locked the door behind them and led her into a black marble bathroom. There was a deep soaking tub on the right and on the left was a large glass-enclosed shower with two showerheads so both lovers could enjoy hot water.

There were also two large individual sinks with brass spigots beneath their own mirror. He closed the bathroom door and knelt before her to untie the laces of her stylish black boots. He took them off and she lifted each foot so he could remove her black socks. He lit the seven candles he had asked be placed before he arrived. He turned off the lights and stood before her in the soft glow. Without saying a word he began undressing her.

Slowly but without hesitation he unbuttoned the white blouse, leaving on her bra as he unzipped the dark skirt, the zipper's hiss seeming so loud to her in the large marble bathroom. He unhooked the lace bra, placing it on her blouse which sat neatly folded on a chair. Very carefully, like a doctor removing a bandage, he eased the silk panties down her hips and past her thighs, letting her step out of them when he brought them to her ankles. She stood quietly still as he undressed, watching him reveal himself to her.

She had never seen him naked and she wanted to run her hand down his chest to his manhood, just to feel him grow under her gentle grip. He turned on the water, tested it, then reached for her with a wet hand. Taking it, she stepped into the glistening space where the sprays of the two showers met. He washed her hair first, using two different shampoos he had ordered. The first smelled like summer grass, she thought, and the second like the sea.

Rinsing her hair, she closed her eyes and smiled as she felt a smooth bar of soap slide over and between her breasts, across her belly, and down her thighs. Mithre gasped as a hand foaming with soap moved between her legs. Although it caressed her softly, it was not the lingering touch of desire. He kneeled and continued down to her feet. Standing, he put her hands on the marble wall, making her bend slightly so he could thoroughly wash her back.

When his hands moved along the curves of her hips, Mithre bit her lip and raised up on her toes. No man had ever touched so much of her before, and now she wanted to be held and made love to. Suddenly the water was off and he led her out of the shower and dried her with one of the hotel's large white towels. He took her hand and they walked out of the twilight of the steamy bathroom into a bedroom filled with the bright light of early afternoon.

The king-size bed was warm with sunshine and he pulled back the covers to expose creamy sheets. He smiled at her and Mithre got onto the bed. She lay back with her damp red hair on a pillow. Although he had just washed every part of her, he had never seen her naked in daylight and Mithre covered her breasts, nipples eager against her palms.

Her lover stood at the foot of the bed, looking at her. 'You are so beautiful,' he said. 'You make me feel that way,' said Mithre, letting her hands slide slowly down to her hips. She saw him swallow and noticed he was erect. 'I am going to kiss you now, Mithre. All over. As I kiss you, please do not touch me or tell me what to do, as it is my kiss I'm giving you. However, you can make as much noise as you want.' Mithre folded her hands over her belly.

'So, you are going to make me cry out with pain?' He shook his head. 'You will cry out, my love, but not with pain, I promise you. Now, could you turn over, please?' Mithre did as he asked and he lay down beside her, facing the other way. He took her left foot in his hand and looked over his shoulder at the red-haired beauty who was adjusting a big fluffy pillow in front of her. 'We will now begin, but I will tell you this: the very last kiss will be on your lips.'

Mithre smiled back at him. 'And my first on yours.' He studied her foot, which she teasingly flexed for him, then started his gentle journey with a kiss on her heel. As he made his way up the ticklish sole, Mithre buried her face deep into the pillow, laughing and trying to keep still. When he got to her toes, the giggling stopped, replaced by low moans. He licked and sucked each toe as if it were a pink candy.

He then moved to the other foot, making her giggle again. His lips traveled past her ankles and to the supple calves of her legs, switching back and forth so he never got too far ahead on one side. When he reached the satin of her upper thighs, his kisses lingered, as though savoring something sweet. Mithre groaned into the white, comforting bosom of her pillow and spread her legs just a little, enough to let him know he could take her now and the interruption of his kissing would be forgiven.

But his mouth moved on, and she caught her breath when he gently bit the firm globes of her bottom, sucking the tender flesh into his mouth. When he changed positions to kiss the warm, smooth desert of her back, she felt his hardness graze her thigh.

The tip had been wet, and left a sticky kiss on her skin. She opened her thighs a little more, but he was careful not to let his erection touch her again. Once all of her back was tingling, he pulled aside her hair and pressed his lips against her neck, causing Mithre to grip the sheets and push against the bed with her toes. He was driving her crazy now with little licks around her ears and she felt like screaming at him to take her now or she would walk the halls naked and give herself to the first man she saw. 'There,' he said, falling heavily onto a pillow beside her.

'We're halfway through. I promised myself not to keep you in bed all weekend.' He slapped her playfully on a well-kissed bottom. 'What are you waiting for? Get dressed! It's almost time for dinner.' They had reservations at the 'Cyrano de Bergerac' on Slawkowska Street in Krakow's Old Town and Mithre wore her favorite black dress, low cut to display the ancient silver cross she found one moonlit night in the Powazki cemetery back in Warsaw. It hovered like a star between her breasts, gleaming against the glowing white moon of her skin.

The restaurant was famous for its French cuisine and its 15th-century wine cellar and they wasted no time in ordering the best Beaujolais. They clinked glasses and he toasted to how wonderful she tasted, and Mithre in turn toasted to how expertly he kissed.

'So, how do you feel?' he asked her during dinner. Mithre forked another delicious bite of her vegetarian special into her mouth before answering. 'It feels,' she said, 'like I am at the intermission of a play, waiting for Act II to begin. I realize I sit here only half-kissed.'

He reached across the table to hold her hand. 'Yes, only half-kissed, but completely loved.' Under their private corner table, Mithre slipped one foot from a shoe and gently pressed it against his crotch, smiling as his erection grew under her stockinged toes. 'Now you feel as I do, my love.

Filled with desire, but as yet unable to do anything about it. All you can do is wait.' They both laughed, and soon they were in a taxi heading back to the Grand Hotel. Soon again in the darkness she was naked, wearing only her silver cross. He carried one lit candle from the bathroom and placed it on a nightstand by the bed. In the faint glow of the candle Mithre lay down on a back painted with hundreds of kisses.

She brought her hands to her breasts when he started with the unkissed areas of her feet; she pulled lightly at her nipples while his lips moved up her legs. With his hands he opened the soft treasure of her thighs as wide as she could get them, his mouth searching for skin he had yet to explore, to claim in the name of his love for her. Mithre cried out and bit deep into her pillow when his tongue slashed across her hot and very wet sex, mapping and delving into every sweet niche and crevice.

She pushed hard against his face when her first orgasm shook her, quick and unexpected as a summer storm, his tongue stabbing far inside her. The most beautiful woman in Warsaw clawed at the tangled sheets and squeezed his head with her thighs, whimpering out her pleasure, as he sucked her slick and secret lips into his mouth.

His tongue swam in and out of her tight channel like a quick, wriggling fish, leaving her breathless and amazed. Face shining with her juices, he began kissing her soft belly, pressing his mouth deep into the warmth there as if trying to whisper something to her womb. Many kisses later he reached the undersides of her breasts and began a delicate licking, circling each breast slowly until he came to the nipple.

Mithre cried out and shivered when he took all of her left nipple into her mouth and sucked it harder than any man ever had, sucking as if all the love she had for him were her own sweet milk. Forbidden to touch him, she grabbed at the wild, twisted mess they had made of the sheets and arched her back when he captured her other nipple, torturing it with lips and tongue and leaving it swollen and sensitive when he moved on.

She was breathing heavily with closed eyes as he traveled down her arms to her hands, sucking the black pearls of her darkly painted fingernails. All these kisses were like too much wine, and when he was at her neck, kissing the rapid pulse, Mithre was dizzy with pleasure, her whole body tingling as if little fires had been set all over her. It felt like she had been made love to a thousand times. Finally, he was kissing her cheeks, her forehead, her eyes, whispering to her so softly it seemed a dream, that she was floating on a vast sea of dreams.

When only the lips of her perfect mouth were left, she felt his hardness at her soft gates. More than ready for him, Mithre wrapped her legs around his back, and brought his face down to hers. In the morning, Mithre woke first and looked at the man who had tasted every part of her and now knew her own body better than she ever would.

She leaned over him and with swaying breasts lightly tickled his chest with nipples hard and swollen from the night's loving. When he opened his eyes Mithre pressed a finger to his lips. "My turn," she said.