A Steady Diet of Kisses

When you’ve been single for a while, flirting comes as easily as breathing.

Breathe in.

Plant a kiss on your favorite single guy.

Breathe out.

So imagine me at unSCruz, trying to not flirt because I was there with The Swede.

All those delicious men who flirt back with me and make me feel sexy and appealing. . .

. . .they were off limits.

I’ve gotten in the habit of kissing as many people as possible.

It’s a hard habit to break and fortunately, given that The Swede has a more European view of things, I didn’t have to.

I went around kissing all my friends – male, female, trans, bi, gay, furry – you name it, I was kissing it.

Of course, the best kisser in the whole bunch was The Swede.

He would grab me and kiss me, just because.

Or say something provocative and then plant one on me.

For someone who is usually starving for affection, I got a steady diet of it during unSCruz.

So much so that I know it’s going to be hard for me to go without it.

The Swede leaves for Sweden today.

And I am going to miss him.

 

 

The one where she does a strip tease to “Freedom”

Apparently, I like the song “Freedom” by George Michael a lot.

And by a lot I mean A LOT!

There I am, sipping my cocktail at Ali Bar Bar on Friday night when the song “Freedom” starts to play over the speakers.

Instantly, I am transformed into STRIPPER MODE.

I start grinding my hips, lifting up my shirt, and lip synching the words:

“Well it looks like the road to heaven
But it feels like the road to hell
When I knew which side my bread was buttered
I took the knife as well
Posing for another picture
Everybody’s got to sell
But when you shake your ass
They notice fast
And some mistakes were built to last”

All for the viewing pleasure of The Swede.

I even grabbed the Viking helmet off his head and wore it myself.

Oh my!

We might have made out a little too.

Okay, we might have made out A LOT!

I’m not sure what The Swede thought of my amateur performance, but I can tell you one thing:

I sure did get hella lucky that night!

The Swede, kissing and UnSCruz

OMG, she’s not going to blog about The Swede again, is she?

Yes.

She.

Is.

Because he’s handsome, funny, and shy and that all adds up to make him pretty fricking irresistible to me.

He’s CHARMING.

Lord knows I don’t meet enough charming men.

Ones who want to cum in my ass and on my face (two things which do NOTHING for me), but the charming ones are few and far between.

The Swede also kisses like a board certified expert.

Trust me.

I’ve kissed a lot of men.

The Swede is EASILY in the Top 5 best kissers of ALL TIME.

The best kisses suck you into them so all you can think about is their mouth on your mouth.

They curl your toes and maybe, JUST MAYBE, get you a little juicy.

That’s what it’s like to kiss The Swede.

I swear I want to just melt into his body and feel every inch of him against me.

I may get my chance at UnSCruz seeing as how we are sharing a tent together.

I warned him the other day, “There will be ropes. We’re staying in a BDSM camp.”

He replied, “I’ve never done that but it could be fun.”

This is exactly the attitude you need to have going into a Burning Man event: open minded, ready to have fun, curious.

“There may be nudity,” I warned him.

Yours or mine?

I think The Swede will have a great time.

I told him my wish for him, “I hope you have a mind blowing good time.”

And I do.

I really do.

How to Kiss

bad kissThe other day, I got kissed.

I know!  I know!

Amazing, huh?

Yeah well the kiss was “not bad” which is neither good nor bad but just okay.

I have big, pillow-y lips.  It takes time for me to pull out of a kiss and reassemble myself.

The guy who kissed me withdrew in a heartbeat.

One minute we were kissing, the next minute we were talking.

Or perhaps I should say “HE” was talking.

I was too busy trying to pull my lower lip back in place and open my eyes to notice what he was saying to me which I think had something to do with me being a great kisser.

“Oh um thanks,” I stammered, hoping my face was composed and not still posed mid-kiss – lower lip sticking out, eyes closed, tongue against the inside of my lips.

Take a moment and SAVOR it, sir!

Not everyone has lips as pillow-y as mine, ya know!

But okay fine, let’s talk.

And then he went in for another kiss, muttering something about my beautiful red lips.

This time he went for more.  And I was a little bit lost as to how to react.

He dumped his tongue in my mouth for a second and I didn’t know what to do.

Push it out?

Play with it?

Suck on it?

This is a fairly common kissing problem I’ve encountered:  THE TONGUE DUMP.

So I’m going to say this once and for all:

Kissing should never be about penetrating the other person’s mouth with your tongue and leaving it there.  It’s about the erotic play BETWEEN the two tongues.  So stroke gently.  Play back and forth.  Feel your way through the kiss.  Don’t just thrust and forget about it.  Please.  I’m begging you.

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Fortunately, my “tongue dump” didn’t last very long.

He went back to talking.

Again.

And I was left trying to compose myself.

Again.

And with that, he took off and I was left walking to my car alone, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

Ah, the single life my friends. . .

Ain’t it glorious?

REALLY bad kissing

bad kissI love to kiss.

It’s one of my favorite things, to lock lips with someone and press my lips into theirs, perhaps even open my mouth and let my tongue stroke inside.

The other day, I was on a date. We were overdue for our first kiss and so I maneuvered him into a secluded location where I was sure he’d make his move.

And he did!

And oh DEAR GOD did I regret it.

How a man can reach almost half a century of life without truly learning how to kiss I WILL NEVER KNOW.

But it was awful. Truly, completely, regrettably awful.

He swirled the tip of his tongue around the tip of my tongue ENDLESSLY.

I was like, “ENOUGH OF THIS APPETIZER! GET TO THE FUCKING MAIN COURSE!”

But of course there was no main course. Just more swirling and swirling.

When he finally did stick his tongue in my mouth, he shoved it UNDER MY TONGUE and grossed me out.

It was like yoga for the tongues which DID NOT FEEL GOOD IN ANY WAY.

I literally couldn’t bear to kiss him anymore.

My friend Marina suggested that I teach him how to kiss but I just know my approach would be off putting: Hey Walt, we’re not gonna kiss your way anymore. We’re gonna kiss my way. Got it?

There really should be kissing competency tests in school so that things like this don’t happen.

Just saying.

Kissing on the first date

suck faceI’m a big supporter of kissing.

It can make or break your chemistry with someone.

I believe in kissing hello on the lips. And I believe in kissing goodbye.

I even have a friend whose ear I bite when I hug him. Just because it’s there.

That being said, I do have a pet peeve with regard to kissing.

Men who suck your face off ON THE FIRST DATE.

It’s really not necessary, is it, to lick my tonsils?

No, it’s not.

The other day, I was enjoying a first date with a man when all of a sudden I found his tongue dumped in my mouth.

Jeez! Okay. A little premature but he’s eager so I decided to go with it.

All of a sudden we went from 0 to 100 mph in a split second and before I knew it, his hands were ALL OVER ME. Trying to lift my skirt. Running them over my breasts.

Come on ladies, you know the type. I can’t be the only person this happens to.

I went from feeling seen and heard to feeling like a piece of meat.

And that’s not good.

Contrast this kiss, with the kiss I initiated with another man. I made eye contact. I touched his knee. I leaned into our conversation.

All signs pointed toward go.

And when we finally did kiss, it was magnificent.

So read the signs and follow them. Don’t jump prematurely into the physical stuff. Take your time and cultivate something special.

It’ll be worth it!

Well Kissed

My date with The Israeli went quite well.

We stayed out until midnight drinking a bottle of wine at the wine bar before moving on to Carry Nations for beer (me) and whiskey (him).

My date was lively, intelligent, and funny.

He was also very flattering and told me if he didn’t know better, he’d think I was no older than 35.

Sigh.

Love him.

I love that he’s a world traveler. I love that he was in the military. I love that he has a PhD. I love his smile and his funny accent.

But most of all I love kissing him.

We were standing face to face, comparing my height to his when he locked onto my lips and started kissing me.

It was so lovely to be kissed and kissed well. I lost myself in that kiss and melted like butter into his body. My head angled to the side and I moaned as I kissed him. Little aching moans.

There was definitely some chemistry there.

For the rest of the night he had a hard time keeping his hands and his lips off me. He kissed me at the bar. At the table. Walking to my truck. He even grabbed my hands with his as we were talking in the wine bar.

And before I left for the night, he arranged for our second date. Looks like we’re going out Friday. Dancing.

I got a message from him before he went to bed that night:

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So there you have it… the first day I’m off dating restriction and I have a GREAT date with a WONDERFUL man who thinks I’m a GREAT kisser!

Kissing all the boys (and girls)

IMG_8059What can I say about SoulFire except it has to be experienced to be truly appreciated for what it is – an intimate party with friends at a nudist resort.

There was a lot of fun going on, both clothed and unclothed.

I arrived on Friday afternoon with Tejas in the motorbeast. We quickly set up camp and then got down to business – drinking rum and cokes and checking out all the other participants.

Pretty soon, I was smoking clove cigarettes and floating from tent to tent, saying hi to everyone and meeting new people. People like the Rocket Scientist, Hoop Girl, and Big Boy (these are not their real playa names, btw).

I stepped in and did a little bartending at the local watering hole – Ali Bar Bar. It was fun to mix drinks for people and watch them get their groove on.

Before I knew it, Father Figure (from Precompression) had showed up and we were making out. Nothing like a younger man to get the blood flowing. Then I moved on to The Giant (thusly named because he’s tall and handsome).

The Giant deserves his own blog post so all I will say about him for now is that he was a great kisser and SUCH A SWEET GUY. Felt like I hit the lottery.

I also kissed Rocket Scientist. And I maybe kissed Cuddle Buddy too, who curled up with me in a cuddle puddle on Saturday night for 10 minutes of snuggling and kissing.

Saturday morning rolled around and as people walked by our camp, I’d remember kissing them too.

Finally, I turned to Tejas and said, “I think I kissed six men last night.”

“Oh, is that all?” he asked.

Just then our neighbor strolled up. Tall, blonde and willowy, with the face of a goddess, she said hi to us and paused.

“Have you met Michelle?” Tejas asked.

“Yes, I have,” she replied. “Intimately.”

I looked at Tejas, shrugged, and said, “6 men, 1 woman.”

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Turn ON the old fashioned way

I was jonesing for an OM and lamenting the fact that the closest, most convenient man to me (Matt) won’t be trained to OM until Saturday.

So much for my intention of OMing every day.

I sent a quick message to Matt:

“Trying to find an OM for tonight. Proving very hard… I wish you were trained.”

To which he responded by offering me the only thing he could.

I didn’t respond. I just didn’t know what to say,

“Too aggressive?;)” he replied.

“No, I like beasty men,” I told him.

It’s true. At the Halloween party I went to this past weekend, I was told by one man that I brought out his evil side and I took that as a compliment.

“Can I tempt you with a cocktail?” Matt offered.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

Hair up. Baggy pajamas. Glasses.

Hmmmmm. No way I leaving the house.

“How about a nightcap at my house? I hope you like single malt,” I offered.

And so it was that 30 minutes later Matt materialized at my house.

He drank my offered single malt, though clearly it wasn’t his cup of tea. We chatted and talked about OMing and his upcoming training (which I will be at because I’ve agreed to be his partner).

Then he kissed me.

I was somewhat reluctant to kiss him. It seemed a little premature. But okay, I’m not one to pass up a hot mouth and stroking tongue.

And that’s when I happened. And I nearly came unglued when he did it.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair AND HE PULLED.

It was a flawless execution. He just grabbed a fistful and slowly pulled. No fumbling about. No sharp tug. No painful yank. Just a nice gentle pull. It was like he’d been doing this all his life.

Then he did it again and my hormones were raging.

He’s my first Aries. Is this how all Aries are?

Anyway, the whole point of this story and the one thing I want you to take away from this is that SOMEONE SPONTANEOUSLY PULLED MY HAIR…. AND I REALLY LIKED IT!

Oh, and Matt? Well, he practically ran out of my house heading for his car.

No idea why he was in such a rush, but at least for the evening of not getting my OM in, I got my Turn ON a different way.

Love is

Love is kissing open mouthed, even when your partner is sick. Even if you just caught Mono. That’s love baby.

Love is thinking someone is a perfect 10. Even when they’re sitting on a couch in dirty sweats eating Cheetos and licking their fingers.

Love is knowing another person better than you know yourself. You can sense their mood in a two word text. You just know.

Love is arguing. About the dishes. And about the lack of communication. But really every argument is about the lack of communication. But you get past it.

Love is about loving a person even when they’re behaving like an ass. You know it will pass. But don’t put up with someone who’s an ass all the time.

Love is being kind for no other reason than to be kind. Love is not selfish. Love has no ulterior motives.

Love is wanting to do good. It’s wanting to be the best you that you can be for your partner.

There are, of course, many more attributes to love but one more thing: Love is forgetting everyone else who hurt you, being able to look back and be grateful for so many relationships that brought you to the one you love.

And you’re happy. Blissfully happy.