It started with a kiss . . .

20:48, Nov 08 2012

You can tell a lot about a person by the way they kiss.

I say person because if you have read a lot of Modern Maiden you will know I'm bisexual. That
on its own can provide an interesting contrast because, incase you don't know, men and women
kiss quite differently.

I'm normally not one to kiss and tell, but the way a women locks lips, especially in the early and
tentative stages of a relationship, is soft and almost shy. Well, unless you picked her up from a
bar at 2am. Then she's lubricated with vodka and kisses like a blender trying to eat your face. It
didn't take me long to work out those sort of kisses were not my favourite.

A year ago when I came out (no pun intended) of my last relationship I had been kissing women
for a good 12 months. Stepping into the single world left me a tad scared. I hadn't kissed
a male in a long time. Had I, after enjoying the gentle kiss of a woman, forgotten how to play
tonsil hockey with a man?

To be fair I may have been paranoid, but I had this idea that if I were to be with a man again I
would have to endure forceful, sloppy and overpowering kisses.

We all know the type I am talking about. The ones that leave you breathless (not in a good way),
drowning in someone else's saliva, and with a bruised mouth after tornado tongue just swept
down your throat.


I didn't think I could do it. In fact I could think of nothing worse. I know those forceful kisses
come from the desire and fire of wanting someone, but after being with a woman for so long
I was not looking forward to the idea of being totally smitten by Mr Darcy only to find out he
kissed like Dr Jekyll's Mr Hyde.

But I was wrong. I don't say it often, but yes, I was wrong. Men can kiss well, very well in fact.

Although males and females do kiss differently, making out is not as dependant on gender as I
once thought it was.

Maybe I swapped spit with some pretty forceful men in my straight days,
but the kiss of a man is now nowhere near what I remember, thankfully.

Perhaps it comes with age, but it seems the older I get the more I, and the person I lock lips
with, can appreciate a kiss for a kiss, without it being some sort of mandatory check-point on the
road to getting our rocks off.

At times in my past a kiss was only given because it was the stepping stone to sex. Without
realising it I think that was the difference I noticed when I started kissing women. Their kisses
were given because they liked you and they liked kissing, not because there was an expectation
of that kiss leading to a toe-curling, wham bam thank you ma'am moment.

Although I was scared, almost dreading my post-female smooch with a man, I had nothing to
fear. Kisses with men, like a fine wine, had improved with age. The image of myself being left
tongue tied has been replaced with a delighted smile.

The kisses that exist simply to say goodnight, as a thank you for dinner and even those mere soft
pecks on the forehead, those can be the best types of kisses.

These kisses, often over-looked or underrated, should be embraced with open arms. Let's get
up close and personal with those little kisses, because after all, they pave the path for the more
passionate pash.

It's only in the last year that I have learnt to appreciate the simple, yet astounding beauty of a single kiss.

A kiss that has no expectation, a kiss that is not there purely to lead somewhere else
and a kiss that melts me every single time.

One can never have too many of those kisses.