Confession: I want to be KISSED!

Confession: I want to be KISSED!

There is a widely-perpetuated mistruth that I would like to address: How women want to be kissed.

Or rather, how I want to be kissed. After all, one should not presume to speak for the masses. But, as a red-blooded, married-mother-of-two, woman-over-thirty, I have been kissed a lot. Maybe not by as many men as some of my single contemporaries-I met my husband when I was eighteen, after all—but by enough. And I think the fact that I’ve been kissing the same man for over fourteen years narrows my topic to a more intriguing one that the well-worn debate of the perfect First Kiss.

Hollywood, novelists, artists, poets and all other romantics have a real thing for The First Kiss. This is the SuperBowl of Kisses. The Oscar for Best Actor, the Olympic Gold Medal, the PowerBall Lottery of all Kissing.

And like all of those things, it’s a rather rare little item that is soon forgotten in the humdrum of the average woman’s life.

I don’t even remember the First Kiss my husband and I shared. In fact, I remember only a handful of first kisses at all:

· Craig Barnes in sixth grade behind the swing set: a wet, humiliating affair witnessed by at least fifteen of our closest friends, several of whom felt it necessary to time the momentous event by counting the passing anxious (we both had braces) seconds loudly as if they were counting for their next turn on the swings.

· Mike Staff who, at our Senior Prom, pulled me out onto the balcony of the country club, smiled down at me and said, “I just don’t want to graduate regretting that I never did this.” I don’t remember the kiss itself, but Mike—wherever you are—that line deserves to be immortalized forever.

· Several nameless-and-faceless frat boys at the endless parade of beerfoam-soaked keggers of my freshman year in college. Like the Mike Kiss, I don’t remember the actual kissing action, but to this day the sight of a tapped keg or the smell of spilled cheap beer brings a nostalgic tingle to my lips.

· My daughters. I remember the first kiss I dropped on each of their sweet, soft little heads when the nurses placed them in my arms the first time. And I remember their first, wet little nudges as they ‘kissed’ back. I remember first time they were old enough to pucker their tiny little lips and make a loud smacking sound against my cheek as I tucked them in.

In the Car.  The quintessential American experience: making out in a car on a darkened road!  I'd anticipated it for so long, stared at his perfect lips, obsessed about his mouth, marveled at his cocky, devilish grin. Oh, how I wanted to experience the unique taste of him, the feel of his mouth, the sensation of his tongue tangling with mine.  When he finally leaned towards me, his eyes deep with desire, and whispered, 'let's see how you taste' I felt my own lips part eagerly.  Because some things are best left to the imagination, I will simply tell you that this kiss was sweet and sensual and soft and so very, very sexy that it surpassed many a more adventurous sexual romp.  And yes, 'He' will remain anonymous.
·The One. The First Kiss memory I dip into every time I see yet another Hollywood portrayal of the First Kiss. The Kiss that beats any cinematic Kiss I’ve seen. The Perfect First Kiss. The knowledge that this man is special. The long gazing into each other’s eyes. The charge in the air. The sweet shot of adrenaline as he leaned in. The way our mouths fit, our tongues danced. The feel of his hands circling my waist, my fingers tangled in his hair. I remember his taste, his smell, the strength of his arms. If I close my eyes, I can hear the gentle lap of the water, feel the chill bite in the air, the warmth of his body, the rush of first love. Perhaps that remains the Best First Kiss because it was our only Kiss. And no, I shall not reveal the name. You know who you are. Thanks.

But it’s not really the First Kiss I wish to write about. Because, really, how many of those do you get? For us Hot Married Minivan Moms, our First Kiss with the only man we will ever kiss again was a long time ago and, if you’re like me, perhaps has been forgotten (sorry, Honey). So now you’ve used up the only Kiss most of the world talks about and are left with all the other Kisses available to Married Moms:

· The ‘have a good day’ Kiss. Preferably on the lips, perhaps even soft, a little tongue action if Action is on the agenda for later that night. Or just a quick, distracted peck before you zoom off for your mutually crazy and overscheduled days.

· The ‘welcome home’ Kiss. Remarkably like the ‘have a good day’ Kiss, although often with a good dose of residual irritation from that crazy and overscheduled day and the fact that your hands are full of backpacks, lunchboxes and our requisite 20-pound-Mom-purse, the kids are screaming for snack, the dog is barking because the kids are screaming and your feet went numb five hours ago in the shoes you thought were cute but are now convinced were designed be the fourth layer of Dante’s Hell.

· The ‘good night’ Kiss. Not the ‘good-night-with-possibility-of-some-Action’ Kiss, just the ‘going-to-sleep-because-I’m-so-exhausted-I-can’t-even-watch-the-show-I-TiVo’d-and-I-maybe-am-too-tired-to-even-brush-my-teeth-and-you-better-get-up-with-the-baby/kids/dog-and-don’t-you-dare-get-any-Ideas-Buster’ Kiss. This one occurs so quickly it makes hummingbird wings look like they’re in slow motion. Studies show most husbands do not even feel this Kiss, thus its success for the No-Action-Buster message.

· The ‘thanks-for-being-the-mother-of-my-children’ Kiss. Often administered while the Wife/Mom’s hands are preoccupied with bandaging bloody knees, wiping disgusting fluids off the floor or comforting one or more children.

· The ‘Action-let’s-have-SEX-while-we-can’ Kiss. Often perfunctory before both parties move on to the tried-and-true moves, positions and preferences guaranteed to bring mutual satisfaction in the allotted time frame .

· The ‘I-am-so-glad-I-married-you’ Kiss. While lacking in lust, this kiss is strong in the sweet, up-welling of emotion so glorified in the First Kiss.

These Kisses, and all of the other Married-With-Kids-And-Life Kisses, are fine. They are a sign of your married state: the fights, the tears, the toil, the late nights, the exhaustion and exaltation, the acceptance of little quirks, the fighting over bigger quirks, the who-takes-first-shower dancing and all of the other little footnotes of married life. This makes them good Kisses. They are the Kisses of a married couple.

But sometimes. Sometimes THIS married woman does NOT want a Married Kiss. Sometimes this woman fantasizes about the Un-married Kiss. The kind of Kiss a man gives a woman who is NOT his wife of __ # of years, the mother of his children, the woman he has slept with so many times no one would even bother to count. Who wants to be kissed like that for the rest of her life?

I want The First Kiss without all of the First Kiss unknowns such as breath toxicity and choreography of nose placement.

I want Lingering. I want kisses that have all night, not just the twenty-minute window before Dora the Explorer ends. I want to be tasted as if I am a new delicacy, savored like the finest rum sauce, explored like a rich cognac.

I want Anticipation. I want soft nibbles on the back of my neck; little licks in the hollow of my collarbone; trailing, tickling tastes on my arms, my legs, my belly, my….

I want Lust. I want the Kiss that can’t form a thought because we are so consumed with the taste of our lips and the cradling of my hips against his. I want a Kiss that is rough and demanding. I want fingers pulling my hair, teeth biting my skin, a body wrapping around mine. I want thrusting and sucking and breathless moans swallowed in quick, greedy gulps. I want a Kiss that transports me outside of myself, a Kiss that is addicting, intoxicating, arousing and satisfying and a prelude to nothing because it is everything. And I want that Kiss again and again: lips on mine, tongues tangling, breath mingling, teeth nipping, sweet and wet and gentle and hard and wonderful Kissing.

I want to be Kissed.