A Kiss Before You Go

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A man’s kiss is his signature   -Mae West

Kissing, it’s more than a joining of lips. Depending on the right person, it can be a joining of souls.  Unfortunately not everyone experiences the perfect kiss every time.  In Beneath the Wall Julianne shares lip-locks with two different Marines.  One steals a kiss, the other uses his lips to speak the words his mind can’t befuddle.  (Above is the latter, in scattered form. )

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courtesy of Hallmark movie Operation Cupcake

In my life I’ve had the blissful, the boring and the most repugnant forms of kissing.  The worst kiss happened my freshman year of college.  I had a few lunch dates from this kid in my Art History class and one night we finally went on a dinner date. We visited an Italian restaurant and by the end of the meal I was doubled over with stomach pains from some kind of unknown cheese in my food – I’m allergic to dairy. Since I drove, I asked if I could bring him back to the dorm so I could go home and lay down. He agreed, seeing I was sick and I returned him to school. Then very unwelcomingly, he leaned over the gear shift, sloppily took my lips and shoved his tongue in my mouth.  I was appalled!  Here I was sick, wanting the night to end and I didn’t even get a “feel better”, instead my mouth was assaulted by his wayward tongue.  I pulled away and he barely stepped out of the car before I sped off, not even waiting for him to close the door.  Needless to say, after I yelled him a blue streak on the phone the next day, I never saw him again.  He even dropped out the class we shared! Good riddance.

A year later I had a boyfriend who was the exact opposite of Mr. Slimy Tongue. I called him the Pecker because his kisses were so boring.  One would have thought we were an elderly couple saying good night each time we kissed. Being that he was a twenty-something year-old young man, I expected more than just a peck, but no.  It came down to one summer date under the stars that I finally couldn’t take the simple pecks anymore.  I poised myself right in front of his face, cupped his cheeks and said, “Let me try something for a sec.”  I leaned in and kissed him with all the repressed desire I had from the last few months wanting a better kiss. I took his breath away!  But still his kisses in return were nothing more than a … peck. He just didn’t get it.

Now the very best kiss I ever received was from this sweet young man in my kung fu class, when I lived in California. I’d been on one bad date after another with several wanton guys in my law school. I was frustrated, annoyed and disappointed that these few examples of new millennium men were nothing like the gentlemen of old.  I vowed to let go my ideas of a perfect soul mate and focused on myself, my work and becoming  a stronger person.

Then I met him. A handsome, funny and courteous man, who instead of planting one on me after our first date, merely hugged me.  Confused, because I was used to the others, I drove home only to receive a phone call saying, “I’m not going to kiss you until I know you. I hope that’s all right?”  All right was an understatement! It was refreshing!  When we finally did agree that we were more than friends, we were sitting on my daybed and he  slid his hand up my arm asking, “Would it be ok if I kissed you good night tonight?”  I smiled and said yes, then slowly, as if in a dream, his lips touched mine – I heard symphonies, saw gold and red sparks and felt heat flow from his mouth to mine.  With a slight touch of his tongue on my lips, I inhaled deeply and we drew closer to each other, relishing in the uniting of souls through this one perfect kiss. **does anyone else need a moment – I do?** HA!  To this day, he still makes my toes curl when he puts an effort into a good kiss.

Eryn and Jon kissing

So I know I can’t be the only one with good, bad, and ugly kissing stories.  In the comments below tell me about some of your stories.  And since a lot of my followers are other romance writers I expect to read some good stuff!!

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12 Comments

  1. Eryn, you are on fire today!! Hurrah for kissing. Where would we romance writers be without it? If we’re into sharing…and in the interests of retaining some anonymity the hero of this tale shall not be named, suffice to say this was before I met my beloved husband. Hero could have happily graced the Calvin Klein underwear adverts in terms of looks. Come back to me, dear reader….I can see your eyes glazing over, just imagining him. AH, thought I, anyone that good looking is probably a rubbish kisser, right? Good looking men never think they need to practise or apply themselves. I was so wrong. Lord Above! that man could kiss. His kisses were a masterclass in subtlety and building desire. They lasted for days. Months. They left a girl a gibbering wreck unable to remember her own name. In a good way. His lips should have been gold-plated.

    On the other hand, worst ever kiss – and here I’m happy to name and shame – was a boy called Charles Cuthbert when I was about 12. I kid you not, that was his real name. you couldn’t make it up. He looked exactly as you would expect someone called Charles Cuthbert to look, right down to the nerdy glasses and snotty nose. I think he cornered me in a game of kiss chase, and my abiding memory was wet, sloppy and like being lipped by a horse. I shudder to recall it!
    K

  2. I had to laugh at reading your blog today, Eryn! I recognized some of those kissers, not the same guys, of course, since you’re about 30 years younger than I am, but I think they come in universal and timeless “types”.
    I always hated the wet kissers, the ones who seemed to feel that unless they drenched a girl’s chin in saliva they weren’t doing the job properly. I loved the ones who could go through an entire make-out session without me needing a towel once.
    I think my worst kiss ever was the guy whose mouth stayed firmly closed while he bore down on my lips like a twenty-pound weight. When I managed to break away I slapped him, and I think that was the only time I ever actually did that!
    I must say, by the way, that our group’s duty guy is a great kisser, when he feels like being romantic!

    • I knew we had some good stories out there. And I think I would have hit Slimy Tongue if he were a closer, but if I remember correctly… he leaned in, applied tongue and got out pretty quick. Thank God. His name was Reno, like the city in Vegas. I have no clue what his last name was.
      And Val, I love that you added in JR’s ranking, especially the “when he feels like being romantic” – my husband is the final kisser too, as if you guys couldn’t tell and it’s the same way. I know he’s a great kisser but he has to be in the perfect mood to grant one!

      • Val’- you’ve actually slapped a guy?! I wish I could say that! My kissers? The guy who shoves his tongue down your throat but then doesn’t have a clue what to do with it, making you gag–yeah, I know him. No one mentioned coffee breath guy (and not in a pleasant, coffee aroma way but in a cold cup that’s been sitting there for days, with danish crumbs in it, that may or may not have had the cat’s paw dipped into it kind of coffee breath). Ugh! And I do remember both of their names. My husband is an outstanding kisser, in a way that’s almost not fair, because he can withhold it if he chooses to. Had me the first night, still has me 27 years later! (Luckily he’s not a withholding kind of guy, for the most part). Thanks for sharing, Eryn. Fun!

  3. Pingback: Good Riddance | ERYN LaPLANT

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