A Kiss is But a Dream

He stood a little over six feet and was solidly built, with a rusty-red beard, shaggy hair, and a twinkle in his eyes. He smiled over at me with a questioning shrug, and then leaned down to Apollo’s height and planted a kiss on his lips.

Apollo was caught by surprise – he’s my husband, I know that look. But the unexpectedness of the kiss notably changed to appreciation, and what may have started as a quick smooch turned into something longer, deeper.

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First Kiss

The first guy I ever kissed just friended me on Facebook. Which I actually think is pretty cool, so I friended him back.

It’s been a long time since that first kiss. He was first of many things, actually – first kiss, first oral (both me on him and him on me), first really heavy serious petting make-out session. And my first outdoor sexual experience. There are lots of memories there, all spanned over the period of about a year and a half, and I haven’t thought of them for quite some time.

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Mmm, the kissage!

I like Ailuros for a lot of reasons. He’s kinky. He’s extraordinarily nice to perve at. He cooks for me! And he is one of the best kissers I’ve had the pleasure of making out with.

So … we have been spending a considerable amount of time doing so. Kissing on the couch. Kissing on the balcony. Kissing at the club. Kissing in bed.  Kissing while we fuck. Yesterday, kissing in the shade of a big tree in the park, near my work.

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“You Know You Want to Dance.”

You only ever get one first kiss. Trite but true.

But there are other ways for a kiss to be first. Sometimes, when events go well and energies click, you get to have a new kiss experience. A first-kiss-with-them. A memory of flesh and emotion made together.

Before that, though, there’s the dance. Do you like me? Do I like you? Are we both wanting to do this thing? Sometimes it’s a subtle dance of glance and smile and head-tilt and lip bite. More often (in my case, for sure) it’s the blunter two-step, coming after an overture of long hugs, conversation, shared jokes and little touches upon shoulder or waist. “I like you.” “I like you too.” “I’d like to kiss you.” “Okay, then!” Or words to that effect. A desire to dance. But what is the rhythm we should move to?

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First Kiss

The first guy I ever kissed just friended me on Facebook. Which I actually think is pretty cool, so I friended him back.

It’s been a long time since that first kiss. He was first of many things, actually – first kiss, first oral (both me on him and him on me), first really heavy serious petting makeout session. And my first outdoor sexual experience. There are lots of memories there, all spanned over the period of about a year and a half, and I haven’t thought of them for quite some time.

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Crochet Sex

“Don’t mind me,” says Aphrodite. “I’m in a really weird headspace right now.”

She’s sitting crosslegged on one side of the bed, her skirt demurely over her knees, variegated wool in her lap and crochet hook in one hand. On the other half of the bed are Adonis and me, bare-arse naked and tangled up in each other.

She’s crocheting a blanket square. He and I are making out. It’s rather weird, and kinda hot, and not at all what I was expecting out of the visit. Still, she suggested he and I have some play-time after dinner, and neither of us wanted to say no to the opportunity! So he and I kiss and grope and reconnect skin-to-skin, and the three of us have random conversation, and we all giggle each time she drops a stitch and grumbles about it. The two cats, oblivious to our plans, decide where humans are is where they should be, and determinedly head for wool or bare flesh – they’re unwelcome either way.

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“You Know You Want To Dance”

You only ever get one first kiss. Trite but true.

But there are other ways for a kiss to be first. Sometimes, when events go well and energies click, you get to have a new kiss experience. A first-kiss-with-them. A memory of flesh and emotion made together.

Before that, though, there’s the dance. Do you like me? Do I like you? Are we both wanting to do this thing? Sometimes it’s a subtle dance of glance and smile and head-tilt and lip bite. More often (in my case, for sure) it’s the blunter two-step, coming after an overture of long hugs, conversation, shared jokes and little touches upon shoulder or waist. “I like you.” “I like you too.” “I’d like to kiss you.” “Okay, then!” Or words to that effect. A desire to dance. But what is the rhythm we should move to?

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How to have Fantastic ‘Welcome Home’ Sex

Foreplay

1: Arrange to go on holiday. Make sure the holiday is longer than you and your husband have ever been apart before, and less then a week since he was away on business. Remember to put your cellphone on international roaming, so you can send text messages and make sure he doesn’t forget about you.

2: Travel to a destination with a warm climate, so that both locals and tourists are wearing minimal clothing or swimming wear. Don’t forget your sunscreen!

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Marital Relations

This is a blog primarily about sex: sex in the raw form, or philosophical, or kinky or many-peopled. Thus, that’s mostly what I focus on when I write here. But life – any life, even one as perverted and depraved as mine and hopefully yours – is about much more, and sex really only makes up a small portion of that.

Marriage, I’ve found, is much the same (yes, we have a civil union. But I call Apollo ‘husband’ and he calls me ‘wife’ and it’s legal and we’re happy and that’s all that matters). There’s some sex – sometimes lots, sometimes less than lots, sometimes together, sometimes with others – but mostly our relationship is about everything else. And everything else doesn’t get much of a look-in here, because, well, the blog is primarily about sex.

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To Love; To Kiss

Demeter and I lie together in bed, curled in a gentle embrace. We are wrapped in sheets and each other, lavender light from the lamp painting indigo shadows across the pillows.

Lying flat while I curl into her, I look at her face in profile. The beauty of her philtrum catches me unaware. I focus on it, taking in the subtle contours and delicate shading, wondering why I have not worshipped at its alter before now. So often have I lost myself in the massive allure of her mouth, breasts, buttocks, cunt – but here are smaller delicacies to be adored.

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