The first time two people kiss is usually memorable. Sometimes it’s awkward, sometimes magical... and if you’re lucky, it’s damn hot. With any luck, it also doesn’t involve being walked in on by parents, small children, ex-spouses or members of law enforcement.
Kissing is a lost art, in some ways.
Over the years, as North American society has become more sexualized, kissing someone on the mouth seems like no big deal in comparison to other things people openly talk about. How can the mystique of a kiss compare to Ten Top Blow Job Techniques That Will Drive Him Wild?
As a kid I remember agonizing about where I was supposed to put my nose if someone ever kissed me – little did I realize that with a nose as small as mine, it’s a non-issue. Now I’m not sure what young girls wonder about, in terms of sexual expression, but kissing probably isn’t even on the radar.
To me a kiss, in some ways, is more intimate than sex. You’re in the person’s face, breathing their air, tasting their gum. It’s hard for a kiss to be impersonal, if it’s done right. It can mean the difference between a quick fuck and an emotional connection that inspires you to do great things. Maybe, if you’re lucky, it helps you find extra meaning in your daily life.
As a writer, I tend to give a lot of attention to kissing and eye contact – because I’m kinky like that.
Excerpt from The Dom with the Sex Zombies by Sorcha Black - Spring 2014:
Her gaze roved back up to Winter’s bottom lip and the two rings there. The stainless metal piercing the soft flesh was a sensual violence that kept drawing her eye. Up close she saw small circular scars here and there on Winter’s face, where other piercings had healed over. Now there was only the two in her bottom lip, her septum and one eyebrow pierced. She’d had more metal at some point.
“What are you looking at?” Winter smirked.
Before she could stop herself, Saya reached out and brushed a finger over a few of the other girl’s tiny piercing scars then realized what she’d done and wrapped the rogue hand back around her glass. “Do you have a lot of scars?”
Winter didn’t look angry, instead her body had thrummed with tension under Saya’s hand. “A few. More piercings than scars though.” Her voice deepened and she inched closer. “I don’t think you’re prepared to see them.”
“No?” Saya whispered. “Why not? Are they really extensive, or... just in sensitive areas?”
She was closer yet, their faces almost touching and her breath tickling Saya’s cheek. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Saya couldn’t think of anything to respond with, so she just stared back into Winter’s eyes, the pale, eerie blue seeming to see right through her.
“You’re very pretty.” Winter’s voice was hushed, hypnotizing. Have you ever kissed a girl, Saya?”
She shook her head minutely. “No.”
Winter leaned toward her and in a panicked moment Saya tried to move back. A familiar hand tangled into her hair and gripped her firmly, the dominance of it making her nipples instantly hard.
“Stay,” Ramsay growled.