I kissed him again, this time a little longer and harder. I slid my tongue over his lips, trying to get him to open his mouth. “Open your mouth Tomm...,” I said softly. He did and I was able to push my tongue inside. For the next fifteen minutes we French kissed.Kissing him was like kissing a watermelon, he had lots of saliva, and it was gross. However, I kept thinking about the money. I then got up and stood in front of him, a song on the TV was good to dance to. So I kind of did a very poor. I'd always liked her, but this was the first time I'd started to feel something more serious. It was plain to me, though, that she was much farther along the path.I was concerned that she was in love with her idea of me, and not the real thing, but I decided that my best move was to just stay honest, and not try to move too fast. I was afraid of being hurt again, but much more afraid of hurting her. I had this feeling that she was much further out on a limb than I was, and much more likely to. More

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