So, I come back to being in Andrew's arms.
Strong arms, they were (and are). He is taller than I am, even when I wear heels. In order to reach my lips after our dance, he lifted me from the ground; as I say, I felt as if I floated in the air. I could feel his biceps bulge when I stroked one palm up and down his arm.
His lips brushed mine, then, almost as if questioning, pressed. Mine parted and I touched his with the tip of my tongue. I felt him leaning forward, felt his tongue touch mine, then my lips, then probe deeply into me, surging forward with his desire, just as the way his forward lean, my arching back, pressed his erection even more firmly against my belly so that it, too, seemed to thrust towards me with its need.