When I went out with The Swede, at the end of our date, I thought, “Well, there’s a guy who will never ask me out again.”
Boy, was I wrong.
Of course, I based this on the fact that he was initially very quiet around me. I mistook his silence for disinterest.
And, he didn’t kiss me.
Well that’s because the two of us have completely different theories about who to kiss.
He believes in kissing only the people he really wants to kiss after he gets to know them whereas I believe in kissing as many people as will let me kiss them trying to find the good ones.
It’s a strange phenomenon.
I can kiss just about anyone, so long as they don’t have bad teeth or bad breath.
And I believe heartily in doing it.
Because let’s face it, it wouldn’t hurt the world to have a lot more kissing (and hugging) in it.
When it comes to kissing, The Swede has got to be right at the top of my list of best kissers of all time.
It may have taken a year to kiss him (he lives in Sweden, folks), but once I started, I didn’t want to stop.
You ever get so lost in a kiss that time passing by seems to disappear?
You ever lose track of your body and only feel sensation in your lips?
You ever feel the need to change your panties after a kiss?
That’s what kissing The Swede is like.
So color me happy he asked me out again and got around to kissing me.
We should have started kissing each other a lot sooner.
Who knew I’d need to go to Sweden to get kissed?!