Forget about all of the shit that is written about how to fuck like a stud. People are getting ahead of themselves. Let's start with the basics. Let's go back to the PG shit. Ladies, gentlemen and biddies of the nation, for the love of god, let's learn how to fucking kiss.
To be fair, anyone who has ever kissed me never really had a fair shot in the world. I watched Disney movies religiously as a child and those films just make it look sensual as fuck. I always pictured my first kiss to either be while I was knocked out unconscious (...but in a totally non-rapey way) or with a prince disguised as a beast while casually levitating in the air for a bit. I could even beat it to Simba and Nala kicking it in the jungle. Oh, but what a disappointment this kissing business has proven to be.
Sometimes the simplest of tasks are proven to be the most difficult. A decent face-sucking is hard to come by these days.
My first make-out session ever was the cliche bad time. I will call him Muhammad for the sake of privacy. The deed occurred at one of the only high school parties that I ever attended. After a few too many Coca colas, shit started getting weirddddddd. Muhammad took me to a lovely field of grass outside. Under the stars and among the musical stylings of crickets he proceeded to lick my entire face clean, kind of like my dog.
Okay, I thought, this is what making out means. This is nice? This is...hot?
I did not know if I should tell him to go fetch or scratch his belly but after that experience I practically needed a towel to dry off my face. I would have had to ring that bad boy out a few times. Of course at the time I never told anyone of this disconcerting experience. It did not matter! I made out with a guy and EVERYBODY knows there is no wrong way of doing that. RIGHT?? WRONG!!!!!!
When I went to college, I made the usual freshman rounds of making out with a couple of randos. This is when I learned that my romantic night with Muhammad slobbering all over me was not anything to be proud of. Do not get me wrong, boys in college did not know how to kiss a bitch either. Either there was too much tongue, there was too little tongue, it was too loud, it was the wrong angle or...too garlic breath-y. I thought I had seen the worst but it was not until fairly recently that I discovered the worst type of kissing, the most perturbing of the mistakes. Biddies, I present to you: the "stiff tongue."
I kid you not. Again, for privacy purposes, I am going to go ahead and call this young lad Sparky. Sparky is the worst of the kissers for two reasons. First of all, Sparky thought he knew it all when it came to loving the ladies. Cockiness leads to stubbornness, stubbornness leads to ignorance... and ignorance is, well, ignorant!
Second of all, the "stiff tongue" is the most offensive way of kissing a human being. All it does is cause confusion and ultimately de-bonifies the biddy.
Now let me describe to you the "stiff tongue" phenomenon. The subject, in this case it was Sparky, inserts their tongue into their partner's mouth (similar to how one would stick an erect dick inside a who-ha). Next, ya just kind of leave it there. Perhaps, at times make a few fast jerking motions with it, but essentially the subject believes his/her work is now finished. This is the "stiff tongue." It is a real thing. A real problem, if you will.
Now, I am a nice person... to your face, at least. (Give me a phone or a computer and I can turn real bitchy, real fast! Hiding behind technology is the best!) But being the fake nice person that I am, I pretended like there were no issues with Sparky's kissing. Every time he penetrated my mouth, I tried to think of a game plan. What do I do with this? Do I suck it? Do I flick it with my tongue? Do I challenge him to a tongue duel? Usually I would just let it hang out there and focus my attention on better things. Like the North Korean conflict or global warming.Offenders like Muhammad and Sparky are a serious problem. If you think about it, kissing is the foundation of coitus. Bad kissing is just the ultimate boner kill. The question now remains: can Muhammad and Sparky be saved? That, my good biddies, is the million dollar question. How do we tell these idiots that they suck without damaging their fragile egos. Men are delicate flowers, after all.
The best kiss I ever received was in the fine town of Ithaca, New York. I was drunk off of roughly 2.75 shots. I even remember the exact spot the magic happened. It was outside of the Terrace dorms. Pierre bestowed a gem of a smooch on me. I swear I saw fireworks. Sparks flew, gosh dung it. It was a real special night, real romantic and shit. Pierre, (your name is not actually Pierre-- well, to be honest, it could possibly be because I can not for the life of me remember your name) if you are reading this, I want you to know that you have given me the biggest gift of all. You have given me hope for the future. Hope for tomorrow and generations to come. For that, I am forever thankful
Until then, you can find me making out with my mirror. He never disappoints, never.
XOXO (emphasis on the X's this time),
Jules
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