Kissing and Telling

I was only three when I first told a boy that he didn’t know how to kiss… and that I was going to fix that. So, when I talk to you about kissing, please know that this comes from decades of long, hard experience. My first real kiss though was pretty perfect. I was in middle school and in a truth or dare game, I was dared to kiss my boyfriend for a full five minutes. As we sat in the darkened bedroom, lips locked, I checked off to myself those things that I just knew made a good kiss – right pressure from the lips, avoiding teeth, soften tongue but not mushy tongue, correct angle and openness of mouth. For all the faults of that boy, he could sure kiss.

From there on out, I just knew kissing was what it was at. It was the entry way into further physical behaviors – the “gateway drug” of bedroom activities. But, over the years, it also became an indicator of who was really in charge in both the relationship itself and the bedroom, and at the moment of that first kiss was the opportunity to knock that on to its head.  Even if a first kiss is reasonably sufficient, I have always jumped on that rare moment in time to become the “teacher.” Grabbing them by their jaw and stating how that just wasn’t going to work. I would rattle off the faults of their technique – “close your mouth some, you’re not trying to eat me” and “relax your tongue, it’s not a cattle prod for God’s sake.”

Ok, sure, I’m kind of a bitch. But, even the most domineering man is suddenly knocked askew and tasked with trying to please this woman who apparently “knows her shit.” It always works that way. And, for the most part, people need work. A kiss is supposed to be a precursor to more. It is supposed to put you at ease, make you feel a certain level of fullness/penetration that drifts the mind toward the inevitability of sex. It is magnificent foreplay.

I have received many comments on various things that I do in and out of the bedroom, but one of the most unexpected was a man who told me that he was completely mesmerized with my kisses. Curiosity got to me, as well as my always loving to hear a good compliment, and I prodded him to find out exactly what was it that led him to give out a compliment so uncharacteristically. It was the variety, he told me. I had a repertoire of kisses from the peck to the fluttering to the deeply passionate to the teasing tongue flick to the more aggressive biting kiss. I apparently had unconsciously amassed an encyclopedic knowledge of kisses that I used as the moment and mood required.  Though, I have become an expert in critiquing technique, I had never before consciously assessed my own.

I remember, as a very young child, watching Pretty Woman (over and over and over again) and being shocked each and every time that the hooker with the heart of gold would have a rule against kissing. Kissing and sex always seemed to go hand and hand in my book. And, as embarrassing as this is to admit, when I first lost my virginity – I thought you needed to be firmly lip locked throughout the entire process, which explains the beard/goatee rash I constantly had through early high school. But, perhaps, it was partly due to all that time spent kissing away that I became such a freaking expert.

I was shocked beyond belief when my husband and I were first talking about your “rules” for a threesome, when he set a firm one – no kissing. My reaction was, “Are you fucking serious?” with all the white-girl head weaving I could manage. It sounded insane and just, quite frankly, impossible. How do you have sex with someone and not kiss them – it was incidental, a necessary precursor, passing "Go" to collect $200. It was just wrong on so many levels to me. And, it still is.

A kiss is simply the beginning and end of all relationships - good, bad and in between. The kiss hello to the kiss-my-ass goodbye.  It is underrated and underutilitzed. There is something so intensly satisfying to have someone's knees buckle and see stars just from a kiss. I had had men and women both midly hallucinate and even faint. That is the power of a kiss and a signal of the power one person can have over another. It is the mark of a woman who truly knows her feminine powers as a seductress. It makes a woman feel like a woman. 

And now boys and girls, I’ll go track down the husband and make out like crazed teenagers. ;) And, I suggest, you go do the same.

Read more of Darla @ http://open.salon.com/blog/tellingtosca

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