The kiss of fear

The kiss of fear

Most people love kissing, don’t they? A kiss, what’s not to love? Eyes closed so that you can savour the sensual touch of lips; slipping your tongue into someone else’s mouth to explore and get a taste of who the are. That is until he smothers his slobbery goo all over you and sucks your face off.

I can’t honestly tell you how many men I’ve kissed, but it’s not a lot. Two long relationships and one short crap marriage do not make me an expert. However, I know what I like. Or at least I think I do.

Let me explain. During the five years, I spent with ‘the ex-husband’ we rarely kissed. Partly this was because he claimed he was impotent, said that kissing and foreplay was irrelevant and was off getting his knob sucked by lots of other women. Mostly it was that he was a horrible kisser.

Yes, I know I ‘should’ have known something was amiss, yes I ‘should’ have listened to my intuition… Yeah, yeah, yeah. There were extenuating circumstances like I was sucked in and mesmerised by this weird bloke. Yes me who the Moonies couldn’t brainwash! My shame aside, he was a dreadful kisser.

Two years of being on my own have given me plenty of time to dream of my first sensual kiss. In my minds eye, I would meet this man, our eyes would lock, I’d lose myself in his soul, lifetimes would pass, drawing magnetically to each other, our eyes would close and our lips would meet. It would be rock on delicious.

The problem with minds eyes and reality is that they rarely meet.

I had been chatting with a male friend about ‘stuff’, each of us sharing the vagaries of past relationships. Then quietly he asked, ‘would you like a kiss?’

Now imagine fear gripping you as if someone had just asked ‘would you like me to stab you in the heart?’ Ok, a murderer might not be quite so polite.

The terror that struck me was electrifying. From a kiss for god’s sake. A kiss. A kiss, would I like a kiss? A kiss, something that I had not enjoyed for many years, certainly not in the last seven. Yeah, good question.

Standing transfixed pondering the question and the accompanying terror, I confessed ‘I can’t I’m too scared.’ I smiled, the irony of suddenly realising that this man was eminently kissable, and the abject fear gripping my heart.

Staring into his face, it struck me that I would have to start somewhere, right? And he was offering, right?

It was yummy – thanks.

PS: if you want to know how to kiss like a pro watch this


Writer, author, book coach, conscious woman and mum to three beautiful dogs. Living in the hills in Spain watching the world from a distance and drinking tea are just a part of what I fill my days with. That is when I am not writing or walking said dogs.

Click Here to Leave a Comment Below

carolyn - May 8, 2016

It’s good to practise 🙂

Leave a Reply: