Value for Money
The first kiss was the briefest of touches. More of a suggestion of a kiss, a promise of a kiss, than an actual kiss. He, a shy, bespectacled skunk, could smell the other man's scent, the heat of his lips against his, and even though their lips had parted he could still feel it there, tingling. But in a moment it was gone, only a memory that would be treasured when his fur was grey and sparse and his eyes dulled. It hadn't been like he had imagined though. His first kiss had always been an ideal and reality had not managed to fill the large bill.
Before he could bemoan this fate the second kiss was there. Neither male was sure which had started it but both were more ready for it this time. There was moisture this time and the object of the skunks affection had opened his muzzle ever so slightly. The opening was almost impercievable except that the skunk was paying more attention to the lions lips than he ever had to memorising the robot master's movement and attack patterns. Just as quickly the second kiss was gone, the memory etching over the first and he skunk knew this would be the kiss he would talk about as his first.
A hand, large and rough, gripped his chin and turned his muzzle ever so slightly to the side and their muzzles met again. There was a hunger behind the kiss on the lions behalf that hadn't been there the first time and had only been the slightest blip on the skunks radar with the second. Both mouth's were open but there was no tongue at all. Despite the lack of tongue the skunk could feel an uncomfortable bulge in his underwear, his privates pressing into the fabric almost painfully despite his modest size. As the lion's warm lips pulled away from his he couldn't help but wonder if the lion had the same problem and if the problem was of a greater or lesser magnitude.
The forth kiss completed his slide into forth base as the feline's rough tongue pressed against his own. There was a taste there that the skunk had no experience with. Coffee, dark and bitter, smoke, old and dangerous, bacon, sweat and meaty, and male, all male. The skunk pressed back with his tongue and leaned forward, his hands resting on the wooden bench between them as the lion started to pull away. Finally their lips seperated and a line of saliva held them together for an extra inch or two, a stolen moment of closeness, before collapsing.
Before the fifth and final kiss the skunk looked around at his surroundings. Everyone was staring at him and the lion as though they had just stripped off and rutted like animals there on the booth at the fund raising fair. The history teacher, an old badger who could have been mistaken for being stuffed, was waddling towards them, his hand raised and finger waggling accusingly. Girls and boys, his fellow students in his graduating class, were pointing, giggling, whispering and ,yes, even cheering him on.
The nerdy skunk turned back to face the lion who had not moved away or tried to deny the kisses that had just happened. He was framed in the wooden kissing booth that had two signs. One sad "For sale: $10= 1 kiss" while the other said "No tongue!" and had been underlined several times. The fifty dollar note in the skunks hand had been folded and unfolded again while he had watch the lion giving kiss after kiss to all the girls and even some of their mothers. Now it was screwed up in his hand as he pushed it towards the lion and leaned in for his final kiss, wondering how much better it could get and ignoring the badgers hand that would grip his collar any second now.
As the lions lips met his again he knew it was worth every last cent.
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Not my normal stuff I know. Must be getting sentimental in my old age...