Wednesday, November 13, 2013

I never write in this style. But, kisses.

He kissed like a high school boy.

No, he kissed like you wanted a high school boy to kiss
Like you imagined it would be.

These kisses felt like you thought they would in high school when you kissed a boy;
at that age when the clumsy efforts never really worked out like you imagined it in your naive fantasies

His kisses, right from the start plunged his entire tongue into my mouth,
reminiscent of make out sessions in your teens that often choked the receiver of the kiss.
And in these kisses there was always a receiver. Receiver of the mouth over full with two tongues

Rather than the darting, playing, back and forth and mutual exploration of each that often comes with grown up kisses

He did not give in to or adapt to the style of kissing adopted by men his age,
he had instead perfected the high school boy kiss
Time and experience had refined and enhanced the movements of his mouth
turning this invasive style into one that not only worked, but took you back to the feelings of expectation of youth


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