We can disagree on politics. How rare a steak should be. Olives with or without blue cheese. Whose turn it is to walk the dog. . . . . Most things in life are negotiable.
The occasional swing-and-a-miss happens between the closest of couples.
He may not notice that I bought new lingerie or remember that I love tulips.
But there’s one thing I need to know. For sure. Without a doubt . . . .
Can he stop time with a kiss?
I promise to do a lot in a relationship. I will care for, nurture, be playful and passionate. I’ll love him. Respect him. Protect him. I’ll be his partner, lover and friend. I’ll do more than my share. But honestly, I need him to own this. . . . . I need him to be able to stop time.
I know what it (almost) feels like. I’ve had (nearly) the right kiss . . . from the wrong guy. But does it work the other way . . .?
Can the right guy get this wrong?
There’s a fine line here . . .and the right guy will know it, because he knows you.
Too little, too hesitant, too needy and it’s wet and messy and icky. Fumbling. Uncomfortable. Unpleasant. Ugh . . .
Too much ego. Too much to prove. Too much macho bullshit and it’s too hard. It’s a takeover. It’s brute force, not blinding passion.
The kiss that stops time comes from a powerful place deep inside. It’s not something to prove. It’s not a point to score. It’s only purpose is to connect, at every point, on every level, for as long as time allows. . . .
This kiss . . . .It starts sweetly. Playfully. You never see it coming.
It’s a welcome home after a long day. It’s a stolen moment during a walk. It’s a surprise in the laundry room.
Kiss me tenderly. Connect us. And then pull back for a second. Look in my eyes. Be sure I’m with you. And smile, the way only you can.
The kiss is a gentle nibble that quickly becomes an all-consuming hunger.
It’s a soft, playful kiss that starts at the lips. Your finger rims my ear. . . It’s a high touch moment that ignites both of us and heat spreads like wildfire.
It doesn’t tickle. But it tingles. It’s electric.
Kiss my eye lids closed. Brush your lips across my cheeks. Find your way back to my lips. With purpose.
And then kiss me slowly, deeply. Intensely. Run your fingers through my hair. Get lost in me.
Tug at my lips with your teeth, gently, asking to come in. Let me hear you take a deep breath to sustain you when you suddenly, urgently add energy, passion, meaning, and depth to that once playful kiss.
You crush against me with every ounce of energy and strength you have. But I know it to be the gentlest of strengths.
This kiss, this heat, is searing us together.
The kiss is endless. Deep. Relentless. I can feel everything at once, and nothing at all, as every sense I have is on overload.
Time has stopped. There is just this moment and my need to respond. And you.
You are all consuming. Every thought. Every feeling. Every inch of me is responding to you.
I am overwhelmed by every sense that has been engaged.
You still smell soapy from the shower. Or smokey from the fire. Or earthy from the yard.
You taste like wine and coffee and toothpaste.
My eyes are closed, but I know that face. I know that smile. I’ve seen those eyes sparkle with energy and passion. There is a shower of stars playing off my eyelids as I rocket through time with you.
There is a hunger in this kiss that is ageless. A need for both of us to be sated by the other.
Your hands in my hair are endlessly distracting as I hold on to you for dear life. For heaven’s sake, don’t let go.
I am reeling. Crushed against you.
And time has stopped. We are suspended here for an eternity.
I’m fairly sure the earth has stopped rotating on its axis. . . . .
And then gradually, mutually, slowly, there is an unwinding to this kiss. It has hit its peak and now we need a gentle, easy descent. The kiss is still as deep, but the intensity starts to dial back. The need has been sated.
You’re still leaning into me, letting me feel every inch of you. But it’s a lean, not a crush. And it’s lovely . . .and we can start to breathe again.
Your hands have untangled from my hair and are along my jaw line, touching my shoulders lightly.
The world is beginning to reengage. The sounds of the kids outside or the dogs in the park or the timer on the drier start to come back to the forefront.
Step back, but not too far. Don’t let go yet, please. I don’t trust my legs to hold me.
Foreheads touching, breathing deeply we begin to disconnect and heart rates start to come down. There is a smile that goes with a shared moment like that that is unto itself. It reflects the connectedness, the depth. The shared journey.
That kiss is a culmination of everything we’ve ever discussed or dreamed together.
That kiss affirms our connection at the deepest level.
This isn’t rote. This isn’t mindless. This isn’t just physical. It’s purposeful. It’s intentional. It is fueled by the very essence of who we are together.
And while our life and time together has intimacy and passion, this kiss is rare. There are nuanced versions of it that are lovely and frequent and remind us of this.
This reminds us of everything we hoped for. Of why we are here, with each other. In this place at this time.
This kiss lingers with you for ages. You can close your eyes and relive that moment. This isn’t a kiss you want. It’s a kiss you (both) need. Often.
Trust me, you can have a made-up-movie-ending kiss with the wrong guy that rocks your world and takes your breath away. There are some jack asses out there that are great kissers. And as a result, you forgive them a lot. For a while.
With the wrong guy, it might rock, but it won’t be right. It will never be right with the wrong guy.
But this kiss . . .
I’m convinced that the right guy will get it right . . . . because it comes from who you are together. Not what he can do.
He doesn’t do this to you, but with you. And he couldn’t do it without you, for anyone else.