The art of kissing.

I’ve been kissing boys since I was slightly younger than 16. And I’ve done it in many countries, with many countries. I’ve kissed men from Mexico all the way to Croatia. Some friends look down on me for it, and some see it the same way I do, just kissing. I mean I could be doing a lot of other things that would much more risky towards my health. If you know what I mean. But no, more often than not I’m just kissing. I’ve kissed tall guys, short guys, thin guys, and fat guys. I’ve kissed guys with beards, guys with no facial hair, drunk guys, sober guys, stoner guys, and loner guys. I’ve had my practice. More often than not it’s nothing, it’s just kissing. That usually happens with someone I’ve kissed before, it’s familiar. I’m not thinking about hands, or how much clothes each of us may or may not be wearing. It’s just kissing. Most of the time there’s no sparks involved in that section. Then there’s I’m hot for you kisses. Sometimes it’s a hot guy in a club, or a bar, or someone you’ve just met you CANNOT wait to touch them. Man. Those kisses are almost always hot. Driven by passion and a want to be there in that moment. They leave you going home with a new skip in your step, and a fun story to tell all the girls over breakfast the next day. Those are so common that I sometimes forget about the third kind of kiss. The first two I see often enough that I’m familiar with them. More often than not, it’s the first kind. The kiss that means nothing, and there’s really no passion behind it, it’s just boredom. A time killer. So it’s no wonder I forget how good kissing can be. See, the bored kissing, well it’s just kissing. There’s no chemistry, not matching, its just nothing. The second one, well it fits okay but it’s not perfect, and sure it’s fun, but no big deal. Lastly, this kind of kissing… It comes around so seldomly that I often forget what it feels like, let alone that it even exists. Oh man. This kiss. Wow. It’s a kiss where there’s sparks and everything is just perfect. If a camera was rolling during this kind of kiss, it would look like it does in the movies. His hands fall in the perfect places, there’s tongue but not too much. It’s soft, but passion driven. The annoying voice in your head thats usually telling you that kissing random people is wrong goes away, because even that voice is enjoying the kiss. Then he pulls away and you just look at him. This kiss, it’s the kind of kiss that leaves you smiling for days, for no real reason.Your head is light and everything is great.

It’s so funny because with the first two kinds of kisses it means nothing. And kissing quickly becomes something that just happens. It’s no big deal, fun, but nothing special. The last kind of kissing though… makes you wish you didn’t kiss lots of people. Makes you wish you had only just kissed that person, and not dozens of others before him. The kisses are real, but they’re rare.

If every kiss was like the third kind of kissing… I’d be in so much trouble.


One thought on “The art of kissing.

  1. I think that people avoid talking about that last kiss. This is the season for those as well and since they come so infrequently (or at least, people are often unaware of their occurence until hindsight is available) that they qualify as the unwanted gift of socks that your strange aunt insists upon.

    Take care and happy holiday, you serial kisser you!!

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