I recently wrote about the things I want in my love life and one of the items in my list, precisely item #4 – kiss someone passionately – has been a lot in my mind lately. As I mentioned then, barely husband is not a big kisser (never been), so it’s something I will not get from him.

Then I tried to answer my own question: how long has it been since I was last kissed the way I want to be kissed. I have to admit the answer shocked me: 22 years!

I was 17 years-old, believe it or not. Back then, around Christmas time every year, my family crossed the country to spend the holidays with my paternal grandparents, who lived in a farm roughly 20 miles away from the small town my dad had been born in.

It’s a large family and I always loved seeing my cousins, who I never spent enough time with since we moved. Christmas was obviously a family thing, so we stayed at the farm. However, for New Year’s Eve, my cousins and I would take the trip to the town club.

It’s a small town and everybody seems to know each other and I still had a lot of childhood friends I enjoyed being around. That year, I ended up hooking up with this boy – let’s call him Andrew. He was one of Aline’s best friends (Aline = my cousin) and I had previously dated his cousin on another holiday (in small towns it seems everybody ends up dating someone related to you).

Andrew was super fun and we’d always laughed together, especially when he was teasing Aline about her crush, who he thought was a bit too nerdy. It was just friendly banter and he even made up this song about it – he used to walk by her house randomly sometimes while whistling the tune, which would drive her up the wall!

So, yes, we’d always got on but there had never been anything romantic. Then THAT kiss happened and I didn’t know what hit me: it was sweet and gentle, but full on at the same time. His tongue moved softly and slowly, gently caressing mine, then sucking just hard enough to send chills down my spine. He held me close and I interlocked my arms around his neck. He was way taller than I am but it never felt awkward. We just fit together there and every touch had a purpose, even if it was just a finger brushing the back of my neck.


You may think age might be a factor, but he was only 16, even younger than I was. Kissing him was easy and we were both completely giving ourselves to that. We couldn’t stop! Kissing, I mean. It didn’t lead anywhere else as we were both innocent, virgin teenagers then. I bet if that make out session had happened a few years later, it would have led somewhere else, but I can only imagine that and what it would have been.

I think we kissed and kissed for 3 hours straight and probably only let go because it was time to get back to the farm with my sniggering cousins. We met again before I went home and the kissing was still amazing, but there would be no chance of a relationship with us living so far away from each other.

I am glad to have shared that with him and while writing about kissing him I still get the chills, but he caused me a lifelong problem: every kiss after that paled in comparison! It’s a very hard life!

I am (was) a serial kisser and over and over again I caught myself analysing the kisses and grading them in comparison to Andrew’s. There was always something I wasn’t happy with: a tongue that felt like it was poking my mouth or moving so fast I didn’t have time to fully capture all sensations, an awkward position or clashing that shouldn’t exist, being held too tight or not tight enough, or even a drool horror that seemed like an English Bulldog in my mouth (Yuck! Sorry for that!).


An old friend once told me she thought kissing showed deeper feelings than having sex. For her it was the gateway to the soul. She thought if you were able to give yourself completely to kissing someone, the sex with that person would probably be amazing. I thought it was silly, but now I think I agree with her, because I keep imagining making love to someone and that type of kissing would be a requirement. I use that imagination to write the love making scenes in my book and they make me very hot indeed.

I laughed to myself when I realised that’s an old prostitute wisdom – they let themselves be fucked for money but don’t kiss. Just for the record, my friend was never a prostitute, in case you’re wondering.

So, here I am, slowly approaching my 40th birthday, still craving that teenage kiss. What have you done to me, Andrew?

Soundtrack: Kiss me – Sixpence None the Richer

9 Comments Add yours

  1. tarnishedsoul says:

    Oh the way you describe kissing…. ❤
    I have felt I've only had about four really passionate kisses in my life. One I described the other day in my blog. I had another one, back in college, that I was convinced I was in love. I wrote the girl a poem titled "Our Kiss" and she ended up boning someone else a week later…lol. One was with an ex-girlfriend, probably the most serious relationship I had until I met my wife.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. MLYGhost says:

      **Insert cheeky face here**

      Liked by 1 person

  2. fattytomend says:

    Damn… Now I wanna be kissed. Lol. I think once men have sex they stop kissing. I wish I kissed more guys as a teenager cos at that point they’re really trying to impress you. Maybe I’m jaded. But I used to always tell my ex I wanted to be kissed more… Cos he was an Amazing kisser but nothing ever felt like the first time we kissed

    Liked by 1 person

    1. MLYGhost says:

      Welcome to the club!
      I wouldn’t say it’s necessarily true that men stop kissing after they have sex. Some may do but if the relationship is good and they liked kissing before then it will just carry on.
      With my husband it’s just that he was never really into kissing. A few pecks were always more likely what I would get from him. When we started having sex it wasn’t what I would call making love to start with (it was more in the f* category) and the lack of kissing carried on and may have been why I actually put it in that category.
      I had my first kiss at 13 and already admitted to being a serial kisser so it would be really hard to use it to impress me.
      With Andrew it was natural. He never even tried to have sex with me. If he had, I wouldn’t have fallen for it anyway as I didn’t feel ready then. And his kiss was still perfection. I am very sure he was not trying to impress me. He was just being himself.


  3. I have to agree with your friend and her wisdom but first what an amazing post and once again you capture me and leave me yearning for more. Maybe I’m so focused on kissing now I’m really describing a love scene 😉. You sure make me recall those kisses and I do believe that it is more intimate and the gateway to the soul. It leaves you almost helpless, surrendering any resistance (not that you would) to feel the passion rise even more. I do hope you find this feeling again as Andrew will always be there in Comparison until you do. You may wonder what he has done to you, but have you ever considered that you were lucky to have experienced it all together? I’m not sure if everybody does, so I guess it leaves me wonder if if is better to have loved and lost or not loved at all.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. MLYGhost says:

      A kiss like that is making love. We focus on the technicalities of sex and forget that there is so much more.
      I am glad that it happened and remember him and that night fondly. We were so young and innocent and sex was never in the cards. I just think it’s funny how I remember that kiss so clearly when more recent ones I have completely forgotten.
      I wouldn’t say we were ever in love. We were friends, good friends, and I did see him again during other holidays, but then he was dating and nothing ever happened again, which really was a shame. ❤

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Yeah the good old timing and sometimes so tricky and difficult. It really takes a lot for all the stars to align perfectly at times, but I somehow know tat you will feel it again. Hugs…

        Liked by 1 person

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