Here's your place to come talk about sex and love whenever you feel like it.
Truly one of the simple joys of romance (or lust-mance) is the act of kissing. Making out, sucking face, or my personal fave -- taking a trip to smooch city -- kissing is a joyous expression of love and love-like feelings.
Yes, everyone is aware that it all starts with kissing. So how awful is it when you meet someone whose face and brain are effectively kiss-baiting you, until you lean in for the smooch, and… FALSE ADVERTISING.
Now before you go blaming said hottie for being underwhelming in the smooch department, consider that there are many possibly reasons why your kiss wasn’t as epic as your chemistry. Bumped teeth? Chill out, the both of you! Y’all are too eager. No harm no foul. Chapped lips/sandpaper face? Probably poor planning.
But you know, sometimes the person whose mouth you choose to connect yours to is lacking in proper technique. You could always tell it like it is, but you may be derailing the train to Smooch City permanently. (Not to mention that possible pit stop in Pound Town.)
I’m not going to lie—I’m a pretty good kisser. I have studied way too many overwrought romantic dramas not to be. Plus, I’ve kissed my fair share of mouths, and most of the time I’ve been complimented on my kissing skills.
Like all things, kissing is a form of communication a very specific form—so if you want to get your message across, it is worth getting THE message across to your partner, of course without weirding them out or making them feel butt-hurt. You never know -- maybe that person’s ex taught them to kiss that way so they might be going about thinking that they’re the bee's knees, when really maybe only that one person enjoys having their lips gnawed on).
There’s no gentle way that I know of to tell someone, “Damn, bro, you kiss real bad! What’s that even about?” There’s no reason to hold back if he or she is serving up tongue like it’s the Giveaway episode at an Oprah taping. For starters (and for breathing—v. important), back up from the tongue. Pulling back is a pretty undeniable sign that “me no likey.”
If it keeps happening, you’ve still got a couple options. If you’re feeling fiery (and I’ve done this a couple times before, to much success), take a breather, hold your kissing partner's face tenderly in your hands, and in your best sexy breathless whisper, say something like “Easy, tiger.” I’m a firm believer that talking is sexy -- especially in the throes of passion, or any throes really. Also, saying stuff mid-makeout session is jarring. It’s something that demands attention. My inner dialogue when kissing someone new is usually a cacophonous mash-up of elation, anticipatory anxiety, and Gee, I hope my breath is good/neutral and my underwear game is right on.
If that’s too corny for you, another lesson disguised as a sexy game (and this will sound so very Cosmo, so bear with me) is literally a demo. Pull your lips apart without totally distancing yourself from the body in front of you, and say something to the effect of, “Hold on. Let me try something” and kiss them the way you like to be kissed. While they are probably stunned in the momentary confusion of “What am I waiting for?", generally things will fall into a rhythm pleasing to both of you (hopefully). Sometimes all it takes is a simple “snap out of it” maneuver to reset.
Then there’s hands. Hands are always a weird thing. I barely know what to do with my hands when I’m driving, so making out is a veritable nightmare. I keep it pretty clutch with an on-the-waist or face-holding (très romantical) or at times combination of both with some light fingers-running-through-hair should the hair call for it. I mean, don’t quiz me on it, it’s not like that’s the only place hands go. For instance, you might find an extra set of hands roaming over chest.
Whenever this starts happening, eight times out of ten, a dude will give a good hard honking to mine and it immediately kills my mood. Like, why dude? You want me doing that to your balls? Nu-huh! So don’t do it to a boob! Some girls like their boobs to get a rough-housing and that’s totally cool, but mine are weirdly sensitive and overly ticklish—I can’t even get a breast examination at the gyno without howling with laughter. It’s embarrassing, people. The struggle is real.
The simplest way to get hands off your boobs? Put them on your butt. Put them on your waist. Remove them from your boobs and place them accordingly how you like to be held. Everybody needs direction sometimes and in this case, words need not be used.
Seriously though, everybody needs a little guidance—especially the really cute ones who also enjoy X films/books/music that you like. You don’t have to write anybody off just because your first kiss wasn’t that scene from Cruel Intentions. Give ‘em a chance! Chances are, if they really like you as much as you like them, they will have absolutely no problem learning to please your mouth (and other bits).