Free Busted by Antony John Page A

fantastic way to go.
    â€œYeah … I like that.”
    Paige smiles. She leans in toward me and plants her lips gently on my cheek, then my other cheek, then the area just beside my mouth, and then …
    My lips. I’m not sure if she actually wants me to kiss her back, and when I do absolutely nothing for several seconds she stops and looks concerned.
    â€œIs it okay?”
    â€œOh God, yes.”
    â€œGood to know.”
    She leans in again, and this time starts straight in on the lips. As she pushes gently against me I let my mouth open and my tongue—
    â€œFuck!” she says, pulling back suddenly.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œHuh? Oh, nothing. It’s just … you need to go gently, you know? Let the kissing be all close-mouthed for a while, then move on. Got it?”
    I nod. Paige takes a deep breath, readies herself, then leans in again. This time we hang around the general vicinity of each other’s lips for a good long time, and I don’t open my mouth until she opens hers, and I don’t pop my tongue inside until her tongue gently finds mine, at which point I don’t hold anything back—
    â€œShit!” exclaims Paige, then collects herself. “Kevin, listen … you have to be gentle with tongues. This isn’t about staking a claim to my mouth, it’s about slowly exploring the tip of my tongue. If that’s good, move on to another part of the tongue, but never use your own like a fucking Mack truck.”
    Maybe it’s not such a bad thing that our booth is separated from the rest of the diners.
    Paige takes another deep breath and leans forward again. We resume kissing from where we left off, and I do what she says and it’s actually really good, even though her mouth tastes like an ashtray. It’s almost like she’s done this a lot, because she certainly knows what she’s talking about. After a while we part naturally, and Paige is smiling.
    â€œNot bad, Kevin. You should definitely avoid the salsa in the future, but other than that there’s hope for you.”
    It’s kind of a backhanded compliment, but I don’t really care because I just French-kissed Paige Tramell, and this is definitely better than any fantasy I’ve ever had.
    Paige leans back against the booth cushions and runs her fingers all the way through her hair. When she reaches the tips she moves her hands to her breasts, then realizes what she’s done and looks embarrassed.
    â€œOops. I just touched myself,” she giggles. “Hey, you’ll never believe what happened to me today.”
    â€œWhat?” I hope it has something to do with her touching her breasts.
    â€œI found out I have the same physical measurements as Jessica Alba. Isn’t that an amazing coincidence? Someone said they’d found out her measurements from some movie Web site, and when I went and looked, they were exactly the same.”
    â€œThat’s cool,” I mumble, but all I can think about is how I’ve just managed to get Paige’s entry for the Book of Busts on our first date. And she doesn’t even realize what she’s told me.
    â€œYeah, funny,” Paige says. She moves back to her side of the booth as the food arrives.
    The waiter has barely finished arranging the plates neatly before us when Paige asks to have hers boxed since she has cheerleading practice in half an hour.
    â€œYou what ?”
    â€œI have cheerleading practice. I told you.” She pauses. “Didn’t I tell you?” She looks genuinely horrified at having omitted this rather crucial detail. “I’m so sorry, Kevin. Now you must feel like this date has been the biggest waste of your time.”
    â€œBut … you’ve still got a few minutes, haven’t you? I mean, if you don’t need to be there for half an hour.”
    â€œNo, I really gotta go. I need to smoke three cigarettes before practice. I read that most supermodels