I kissed a boy last night, and it felt good. I mean real good. I felt warm and juicy, soft and mushy all at the same time. I felt fuzzy and jiggly on the inside. I felt like a kid, like a teenager that had never been kissed before. I had fireworks and bells ringing in my head, all while trying to remain calm as if this were an everyday occurrence. But it is not. I do not kiss boys often, and had not kissed one in quite some time, and yet, last night I kissed a boy.
I smiled and blushed as his lips came closer to mine. I knew what was coming, we all do at that moment. There is no loud speaker announcement saying “I am going to kiss you now”, however, I knew when it was going to come. I felt the electricity that we were creating. I saw the look in his eye. There is a different vibe in the air, the silence was not out of awkwardness, but crackled with anticipation of what was to come. There is hope that it won’t be bad, a kiss I want to forget, but that it will be one that I will want to not only remember, but to repeat.
I am 51 years old and I kissed a boy…Ok, he was a man. A nice, fairly good looking all American He-Man man. A man that made my juices run warm. That hasn’t happened is quite some time. I was beginning to think that didn’t have any juices left. I thought I was all dried all up, but there I was, with a squishy feeling inside as I was kissing a man.
Am I allowed to do that? Can I sit on a couch or in a car, stand on the front stoop and swap spit with someone? Can I intertwine my tongue in the mouth of another, each of us smelling like the after dinner mint we popped in our mouths so that we would not smell like the garlic chicken we just ate? Yet, last night, there I was, kissing a man. I mean a real man, not made up or the dream of one. An absolute genuine man. I even pinched myself to be sure, I stifled my “ouch” with his lips.
We were listening to jazz, Four Play to be exact. (How grown up is that???) We debated if Nathan East is the greatest bassist of all time or just in the studio. We spoke of scatting and the talents of true musicians. We laughed as the musician’s tickled the keys of the piano, strummed the strings of the lead guitar, thumbed the bass and softly tapped the cymbals of the drum. He gently nibbled my ears. I hate having my ears nibbled, but I stifled my giggles in his lips.
He put his arms around me and pulled me into him. He held me. His arms engulfed me and smothered me in and with him. He spoke low and told me things I dare not repeat for fear it will sound like way too much way too soon. Let’s just say my, my, my. As I listened to his words, I nodded my head and gently murmured in agreement. His hold and his lyrics were powerful, safe and strong, yet gentle and melodic. He held me as if he needed me deeper than just the meeting his current need. His arms were muscular, I could feel them through his shirt. They felt good. I felt good. I stifled my sigh with his lips.
His kiss was gentle. Small bites on the bottom lip, little licks on the top one. He lightly sucked my lips as I held his hands, my fingers interlaced with his. He was not aggressive yet filled with the energy of desire. This was not a kiss filled with sexual tension, but a sensual one. A kiss that had an urgent sweetness about it. His hands cupped my face to bring me in even closer to his. I was so close I could smell him. He smelled so…hhmmm. Soft lips. Soft touch. Soft strength. He inhaled and took my breath away. He exhaled and gave me him. I stifled my surrender with his lips.
I kissed a man last night, and I wanted to. I longed to. I craved to. This was a grown folk’s kiss that can lead to so much more. The kind of kiss that can get you into trouble. The type of kiss that can lead down a road that can take you places that you want to go, but you should not be. This was an adult kiss. A kiss that will make you want to do things that you will need much prayer for to repent of the sins you could and would commit. I kissed a man and it led to two people sitting on a couch, in each other’s arms, my head on his shoulder, and the two of us…gently snoring because old people should not start kissing after 10:00 at night. That was way past our bed time. So he went home, and I went to sleep with memories of a kiss. I stifled my happiness with my pillow.
Last night I kissed a man.