Of course I wasn’t bad in bed, how absurd of me to even think that. I’m great in bed, I know it!
Not only have I been told so many times but they also keep coming back for more. My ex-lovers seem to find it very hard to let go completely. Even if they’ve fallen in love with someone else and are quite happy in a new relationship, they still slip once in a while and call, text or message: ‘Dreamt of you last night’ or ‘I just saw someone wearing a pink scarf and it reminded me of your pink corset’ (a bit far-fetched, wouldn’t you say?)
And sometimes I bump into them somewhere and they suggest there and then we take a spin for old times’ sake. Or call within 12 hours to say how nice it had been to see me, how good I looked and how they had just remembered that time we were in the shower together and...
So yes, I seem to do that bit right.
I’m also a great kisser; everybody says so. And by everybody, I mean everybody. Even my girlfriends. Because girls sometimes French kiss each other, yes, just to check it out and rate each other or even give advice on how to improve.
I wish guys would do that too, there’s hardly anything more disappointing than the apparently perfect guy ending your date with a terrible kiss. And you can’t say anything because you don’t know him that well yet; you don’t want to crush him, poor thing.
But the thing is, the bad kissers are usually the ones with the greatest confidence! They go in there, fill your mouth with their incredibly fat tongue, count all your teeth with the tip of it and then try to see how far down your throat they can reach. Once they know that, they start whirling it around, as if they’re trying to froth up your saliva, mixing in a fair amount of their own.
And then finally they withdraw and look down on you ever so proud, thinking that your silence means you’re overwhelmed by their passion and struggling to compose yourself. Which is sort of true, you need a moment to recover from a horribly bad kiss while thinking whether this guy’s worth trying on for longer.
If they’re as old as the men I usually date, it’s practically hopeless. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.
When I was in my twenties, though, I fell hard for a forty-year-old divorcee. Expecting him to have enough practice after a long marriage I was somewhat disappointed with his kissing skills. He was good at everything else, but he just wasn’t a great kisser, despite having such tempting, kissable lips. He wasn’t exactly a horrible kisser either so I hung on. After all, I was in love.
Soon into the relationship - as I was trying to enjoy one of the perks about it: canoodling - he explained to me rather firmly that he didn’t particularly like kissing. I was baffled; how can anyone not like kissing? But no, he didn’t see the point in just kissing for ages without it leading to sex, or sexual intercourse that is.
And I realised, he was being serious. He had never kissed me passionately except as a part of a very short foreplay, followed immediately by removal of clothes. Which was probably why he was such a lousy kisser, he’d never taken the time to practise.
For a while, I managed to convince myself I could live without all that kissing. As long as I had this (what I thought then was a) wonderful man in my life who could satisfy me in the bedroom, I didn’t need kisses. Kissing was overrated. It was juvenile, just something teenagers do for hours on end while refraining from having sex. We were grown-ups, we didn’t need to suck on each others’ faces all the time, that’s just silly.
So I accepted the terms; no kissing unless sex was to follow within a quarter of an hour.
I lasted for about two months. By then I had started gazing at men’s lips everywhere around me, pouting subconsciously, longing for a good, deep, loooooooooong kiss. I got obsessed about lips, they’re colour, texture and shape, moist or dry, whether they were kissable or not, what they would feel like and how they would match mine. I even found myself gaping like a fish out of water in public, not grasping for air but for a kiss, any kiss.
That was it. I’m a great kisser and I need to be with a great kisser or no one at all. Simple as that.
Smooch!
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