Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Kissing




Yes, kissing.

What is the appeal? Is there an appeal? For as long as I can remember it has held absolute fascination for me. But not in the way you would think. Everywhere we go, there is some sort of allusion to it. Lipstick, air kisses, chap stick, botox, butterfly kisses, Eskimo kisses, French kisses... and the ever present man's side - the beard / 5 o'clock shadow kiss bringing swollen lips, red cheeks and chins, brush marks, burn marks, rub marks on sensitive skin.

Why do we love this thing?

There was a period in my life when I never kissed. Even when I was sexual, I refused to kiss - rather like prostitutes. It seemed too intimate, too personal. Sex was just ... another activity, like going bowling or seeing a band or visiting an arboretum. It just was something to do to pass the time. But kiss? Oh no. Mind you, that was a long time ago, and I've changed my tune... in case you were wondering.

Why do we love it so?

In particular I wonder about men. So often, we talk about men wanting only one thing, they are in it to get in a woman's pants. And that ... that stereotype seems so at odds with the stereotype we have for women - who hold back sexuality in order to "catch" their man. The old adage of he chases her until she catches him.

But really, do men even like kissing? Women fantasize about it, practice on our pillows, our hands, our arms, our breasts, we blow kisses in the mirrors, and we look to make kissable, pouty lips with that cherry lip gloss. But what of men? Do they fantasize about combing their fingers through a woman's hair, about pulling her close, about rubbing her soft skin against his rough beard? Do men anticipate that moment or is it just another tool in his arsenal for getting to the goods? Is it just a necessary step that he *has to* do because he can't get to *his* goal unless he pays the price?

Are we talking about the same act? Come on, men. 'fess up... then pucker up!




*photo is from the internet - (Washington Park, Albany, 2007)

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