By the time we had gathered our things, I had regained my composure. The winds had fallen to a light breeze as we walked back into the crowds. I was not so unconscious of the world around me, and my feelings were still in turmoil. But soon, I was distracted by the events around me, and the charming company that I found myself in. I thought to not loose track of myself again that day, but made the choice to enjoy what was left of it, and deal with what had happened later.

After a few hours we approached a large crowd. It was gathered in a rough circle around a May Pole that had been decorated earlier in the day. Off to our right there were drummers who had just begun to play. The sound of their drums drowning out the sounds of the crowd. Johnathan and Alan grinned at each other and pulled me into the circle where dancers were beginning to circle the pole, to the sound of the drums.

I shook my head at them, and they just smiled back and nodded. "Just try to keep up." Johnathan yelled into my ear. There was, maybe twenty bodies circling the pole, singly or in small groups. There was plenty of room to swing and spin in the steps my partners took turns leading me in. The dance was becoming more crowded with each turn around the pole, though. It was quickly becoming a large mass of people, all moving to the beat of the drummers. (As best they could, so closely together that it was near to impossible to step forward without shortening your stride.)

As we circled I listened to the bear of the drums. The deepest drum was almost sub-auditory. I could feel the pulse of its beat in my feet. As I was lead around the circle, faster and faster, the beat began to encompass me, its rhythm becoming my own. As the crowd whirled, I whirled with them. Johnathan and Alan released me to move at my own pace after a few turns. I was surrounded by a roiling mass of humanity. I wouldn't have left the circle at that point, I was too immersed in the sound of the drums, and the laughter and shouts of the crowd around me.

The drums stopped for a pause, and I forgot how to breathe. I leaned on the person closest to me, as she leaned into me for support. She put an arm around my shoulder, and I, one around her waist. We smiled at each other and focused on breathing in our tight bodices. Lack of oxygen caused colorful spots to float in front of my eyes. I began trying to take deeper and deeper breaths. The spots didn't go away. They grew, in between blinks of an eye. In moments there were luminous streams of color floating on the breezes. They were less occluding on in the air than oil paints thought they had much the same vibrancy. They were more like layers of gauze, solid in appearance, but insubstantial in reality. I shook my head trying to clear it. No dice. I closed my eyes , not knowing what to think, but not sure whether I wanted to see anything until I had regained my eyesight... without all the wavering splotches.

A thought crossed my mind, perhaps I ought to sit down. I heard the crowd around me begin to call back to a Crier that was busy calling for response. "Three cheers of our drummers! Hip, hip..."

Loud cries of, "Huzzah!" from the dancers filled the void left by the drums. There was no way for me to be sure whether or not I needed to sit down still with my eyes closed so I cracked my right eye open a bit to have a look. Nope, still there. Deciding that I had best sit out the next few dances, I opened both my eyes the rest of the way.

Most of the streamers had now connected at least one end to an inanimate object or person and were happily (happily? Well that's what it seemed like to me...) floating about them. Nobody but me seemed to be staring around them, so I guess no one else saw them. I thought they were a little hard to miss myself...

In a daze, a long distance from myself, I heard the crier shout, "Again?"

The crowd shouted back, "YEA!"

"How many more times?"

"TEN MORE TIMES!" This was repeated over and again, ten becoming twenty, then thirty. The shouts took on one voice and the drums began to play.

As I was skirting to the edge of the crowd, I felt two hands placed on my shoulders. I smelled leather, sweat, flowers and earth. Alan. Which also neatly explained why said hands were sliding down my back and around my waist. He pulled me back into his chest, running his fingers back up my arms and shoulders. He pushed the sweaty hair from the back of my neck and kissed me lightly there.

I arched my back as chills ran through me. My hand wandered up his arm, the hand that belonged to it was, once again, wrapped around my waist. I spread my fingers through the damp hair that they ran into. Alan pulled back. Before he decided to distract me from my goal of sitting, I decided to tell him about the streamers. I pressed back against him and turned my head to the side. "Alan," I yelled at him as the drums found a rhythm, " I need to sit."

" But we just got started." He protested.

I turned to face him so he could see I was serious. " I'm seeing splotches, Alan ..." Then I got a full look at him. He was wrapped in a filmy dark purple with wine undertones that had sparkles shot through it.

" Oh, those." He said it so nonchalantly. "Ignore those." Yeah, ri-ight. I'm guessing I didn't need to vocalize that thought. As he continued, "No, really, you're fine. I see them too. It's part of this." I was not convinced. It must have shown.

Alan isn't one to argue much. He has other methods of convincing a person. No convincing needed. He kissed me. Floating colors? What floating colors? Day? Night? A purple hippo just rode by on a Ho - Ho? Sure, right, whatever you say.

A quick lesson about kissing. Don't rush it. Take it nice and slow and easy, rushing only interferes with the sensations. Let it be a mutual decision how passionate it is. Use your whole body, not just your mouth. Breath mints and chocolates are great things. Let the emotions you are feeling into the kiss, accept the feelings, let them flow. What's the use, there really aren't words to explain what a good kiss is, or how to improve your kissing. Like anything else practice is a good thing. Practice is great.

His hands slid over my shoulders as he leaned into me. His eyes stared straight into mine and he smiled as he leaned down and pressed his lips with mine. I went limp against him. Think a balloon with a leak. A fast leak. His arms pulled me in. Not that there was anywhere else I was planning on going. We were so close together that we were rocking with each other's breaths. There might have been clothes between us. Maybe.

Someone bumped into my back, or did we bump into them? The words "up" and "down" had ceased to have meaning. I hardly worried about the positions of Bumper and Bumpee. Neither did the other party. (Clove and Sandalwood? Where had I smelled that recently?) There was a shout of laughter, male laughter, Johnathan's laughter, behind (in front of?) me.

Alan and I were pulled. (Force was exerted on us, we didn't pay any attention to it. We were rather busy.) In a while I felt Johnathan's front pressed against my back. His lips had found their way to my shoulder and explored my neck.

The drums began to pound inside my head, inside my blood, inside my soul. I could feel my pulse thundering with the beat. They were one and the same. Six hands, thirty fingers, three bodies, one beat. As if I didn't have enough sensation, I decided to add the last into the mix. I opened my eyes. People were rushing past us. Johnathan had backed us up, until he was leaning against the May Pole in the center of the dancers.

The colors, still vivid, began to pulse with the beat. They were woven with the dancers movements in the circle. Layer after layer of color began to build up. I could see the crowd only through the wavering layers of color. The way you can see through a thick fog, late at night with a light wind. The layers obscured and revealed at various times. The view was definitely disconcerting. I had better things to be concentrating on, I closed my eyes and continued kissing the two men I was sandwiched between.

I had no more time to think. Feel. That was easiest. Feel. The drums pounded, I could feel my heart. The drums pounded, I could feel my breath. The drums pounded, I could feel the men surrounding me. The drums pounded all I could do was feel.

There were other dancers that had opted for the center as well. I had thought it crowed in the outer circle. Crowded is not strong enough a word for the situation that I found my self in. I was pressed tightly to the men behind and in front of me. Feel. Every where I reached, in this mass of writhing bodies, I could feel those dancing next to us. Anonymous shoulders, backs, thighs and hair of other dancers, pressed in a tight group around the pole. Feel. Anonymous or not, there was no effort made to avoid touching. (There was no way not to.) Indeed, I felt varies hands brush along my shoulder, down my thigh, and, once, a woman's fingers brush across my check. How did I know they weren't Johnathan's or Alan's hands? Unless they had grown more hands, it wasn't likely.

Johnathan=s hands were gripping my hips. Feel. I moved were he moved me. He kept the beat with our hips. Faster, slower. Every move my hips made were from the slightest touch of his hands, small amounts of pressure, forward... back. He made each move with me. His hands on my hips. Feel. His hips leading mine as we danced. Alan's? Ummm, Alan's right hand was wrapped in my hair, pressing my mouth to his. He cradled my head in his hand, keeping it slightly tilted to my left, so he could kiss me, so Johnathan could kiss me. The other hand was gripping my side, sliding up and down my body. Feel. His hips were pressed to mine, no pressure necessary, he followed Johnathan and my movement like he was glued to me. He was. His body pressed me tightly against Johnathan.

My hands? Feel. My right was wrapped behind me, my fingers lacing through Johnathan's soft blond hair. My left was wrapped around Alan's waist, pulling him into me, pulling them both into me. Johnathan's mouth was pressed to my neck shoulder and ear, Alan's was pressed to mine.

The drums were thundering. We rocked to the same motion the same moment.

After moments of this I could no longer tell where one of our bodies ended and the other began. The only thing that mattered was the rhythm.

Alan released my mouth and pulled his hand from my hair. He placed it like the other against my side. He stopped following Johnathan's and my movements and, instead, started mirroring them. His hips bumped and ground into mine to the beat. I shouted at the first bump and Johnathan's hands gripped my hips harder as the shock of Alan's and my hips hitting was pressed back into him. Feel. I relaxed into the new motions, sharp and wild. In counterpoint to the rumble of the drums was the gasp, moans, and shouts of the other dancers. In counterpoint were our own. A gasp from one of us became a moan from another .

Soon, not sparing energy for anything but feeling I leaned my head back onto Johnathan's shoulder. I turned my head to the side to rest on his wide shoulder. Feel. My eyes fluttered open. I saw a face, inches from mine. A beautiful face, not masculine or feminine, just beautiful. Green eyes, dark and jewel-like, like the rarest of emeralds met mine. They were set in a face that had an elfin quality to it, high cheekbones, wide eyes, slight point to the chin. I don't know what color the hair was, but like Alan, there were leaves, but more. Unlike Alan there were all shades. The light green of new growth , the dark forest of mature leaves, and the rainbow hues of autumn, all mixed together. I leaned toward her (him?) Beckoned by those eyes. I had the feeling that I was falling, floating, the only think real was the eyes. I leaned closer and closer, until our noses almost touched. Johnathan and Alan moved with me, we didn't have far to go. He (she?) Breathed lightly, the exhale carried, soft though it was, to my ears. The voice that went with it was soft, compelling and strong, "Welcome." Another breath, I could feel it on my face.

*Welcome?*, I thought to my self, *What does that mean, welcome? Am I welcome here? Wha...* My thoughts were interrupted, diverted and stopped as she (he, what ever!) leaned toward me just a little closer tilted his head and set her lips to mine. I thought to lean away. But lean to where? I was surrounded on all sides by people. Then, suddenly, I didn't want to pull away. I had gone from kissing two strange men to kissing ... someone... and I couldn't even figure what sex they were. I started to worry, thinking that maybe this was a little *too* weird.

I thought to myself, hearing the words inside my head from deep inside, Does it really matter? What's to worry about? Just Feel. I closed my eyes thinking this would help me avoid thinking about what I was doing. Contrary, as everything in my life has proven to be, it only focused me more on the sensations coming from my lips, at the same time removing my impediment to the kiss. I could have been kissing anyone. Anyone at all. Her lips (my god, maybe...) Tasted of mint. I could feel the sparks of passion running through me. From his lips to mine, from my body to Alan's and Johnathan's. Suddenly the drums were inside me, the pulse of my passion, of my heart. The drums pounding through my body. My skin, so sensitive I could feel the particles of dirt blowing against me. I could feel Alan's fingerprints on my thigh, where he had slipped his hand under my skirts. Explosions were ripping through my body, I began to shake.

My lips were released. "Welcome." I heard again. The shouts, laughter and yelling of the dancers, the smell of the dirt and the sweat, the taste of mint, all buffeted my senses. Then, all of it was inside me, my head, my body. I could feel all of their passions, all of their sorrows, their joys, their pent up longings and fulfilled desires, all of their fears. I could hold them inside me, feeling them jump along my nerve endings. There was a pit of heat in my stomach. My fingers were paralyzed in frosty fear.

What's the power of a kiss? It has taken me years to rebuild my life from that first kiss, and from that last, as well. From one moment in an eternity of moments, in which I could no longer deny the parts of life that I had voluntarily given away. And the moment from which giving it away again was no longer an option.

What power in a kiss? It has taken me years to come to grips with the knowledge I gained, and the things I experienced. But it took only moments for those changes to occur.

That's the power of a kiss. One simple kiss.

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