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There’s no shock, no wonder in the air as Amir takes stock of himself, inspecting his human body in the old mirror he once was. He simply nods, before turning to give you a coy smile. “Yes! You see, Azizam? I am incredible! Exactly as I knew it would be!”
And of course he is, you would have expected nothing less from your mirror. He’s positively dazzling — no pun intended — the reflective fabric of his new outfit flashing in the light. But even that is dim compared to the way his eyes sparkle at the sight of himself and at you.
Amir continues. “It is quite something to have a physical body now to experience the sensations I have only dreamed of until now!” As if to emphasize, he holds a hand up and flexes it, watching as the skin stretches and contorts. “How will I ever get enough of my own self, my own face, how will I ever get enough of sharing myself, adoring and receiving the adoration of others? Oh, what an exciting question to ask!”
Your mouth moves all on its own. “Kiss me, you adorable fool. Kiss me under the eaves.” Your own confidence surprises you. Just a few weeks ago you wouldn’t have even imagined being this bold. Perhaps Amir’s own self-assurance was rubbing off on you.
Amir doesn’t miss a beat, taking your comment in stride. “Ah, but my love, look at me now.” He gestures to himself as though you hadn’t already seen all of him. “I can kiss you anywhere we want! Anywhere I want! And with this new body, all this new power and the grace of sensuality…”
Faster than light, Amir wraps a strong arm around your waist and grabs you by the hand. He twirls you one, two, three times, laughing as he spins with you. Finally, he stops, bends you into a dip, and gazes at you deeply with those beautiful grey eyes, eyes filled with passion and love. He’s close to you, very close. You can feel his breath on your skin, small puffs that tickle you gently. “Joonam, tell me. Give me my highest pleasure! Tell me where you would like me to kiss you!”
And just like that, you are now in charge.
Still a bit breathless from the impromptu spinning, you whisper your first request. “My lips.”
Amir smiles. “Ah, we are starting off easy. Very well.” Slowly, he leans forward, and gently kisses your upper lip. It’s sweet, caring, and — most important of all — loving. Shivers go down your spine, and it takes everything inside you not to crumple into a heap on the floor.
Vaguely, you feel yourself rising up once more from out of the dip Amir sent you in. You knew it wasn’t yourself doing so, your knees having betrayed you by becoming wobbly. No, Amir — arm still circled around your waist — is lifting you, until he is no longer leaning over you.
But Amir isn’t finished, far from it. He breaks from the kiss, and smiles at you expectantly.
You take a moment to breathe before you answer him, as well as steady yourself now that you’re no longer being held in a dip.
Still reeling slightly, you manage to stutter out, “M-my nose.”
“As you please, Joonam.”
Tenderly, as though you were made of glass, Amir cups both hands under your chin, his thumbs wrapping over your cheeks. He places a kiss on the bridge of your nose, then the tip, then the left and right side.
They’re fluttery and light, unlike the deep and passionate kiss he delivered to your lips. His lips practically dance over your nose, so softly does he kiss.
When Amir is done, he looks at you once again, waiting on your command.
You’ve become more emboldened, and you request, “My beauty marks.”
With a smile, Amir does so, taking his time with each and every single one of them. There are many, perhaps dozens, no doubt, but Amir is patient, and he finds ones that not even you knew about, placing a delicate kiss on one before moving on to the next. And the next. And the next. In the process, Amir becomes blocked by your clothes, but you’re quick to remedy this. You don’t think you’ve ever undressed faster than you did for Amir.
Once more, you find yourself staring at Amir as he patiently waits.
The words tumble out before you can stop them. “My scars?”
Amir smiles gently. “But of course, Azizam. Your word is my command.”
He gets to work immediately, leaving a trail of kisses on all of them, from the lesser, insignificant ones you can barely see to the larger ones that have their memories burned into your mind. No matter the placement or severity, Amir kisses them, taking his time and showing his love through each scar decorating you.
You gently guide Amir to each and every one — though it’s becoming apparent that he does not truly need any guidance — letting him not only explore your body, but allowing him to see what you tried so desperately to hide from the outside world.
“Your scars are beautiful, because they are you, Eshgham.” His words are muffled against your skin, but you hear him just fine.
As so often happens, though, kissing led to so many other areas of exploration and experimentation.
But that’s a different story, for a different time.