Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Fish kisses

"Fish kisses."

His voice was chiding, dissatisfied. He had me pinned against the wall, his hands enmeshed in mine, my lips under his. I was soft, willing, open... not an ounce of feist or angst or even mock resistance, just gentle compliance and my complete attention to his demands.

I stiffened and pulled back. "Fish kisses????" I laughed and tried to struggle and escape and his hands tightened on me, trapping me. "What do you want? Do you want this?" I fought harder, wailed and struggled, threw all my strength against him. I turned my head sharply away and he laughed with sudden delight as he forced me back, slamming me against the wall.

It is funny, how kisses go. Many mornings I leave packing my lunch and all those little things, turning off lights and coffee makers, combing hair and brushing teeth to the last minute and I am distracted and hurried. I have no time for long lingering good byes. When he reaches for me I frown and pull away, refusing to be delayed by his sudden inopportune advances. But lately I have done better, lately I have it all done long before he is ready to leave. I am packed and combed and ready to go, waiting patiently by the door for my goodbye and permission to leave. And when he grabs me and slams me to the wall and forces his mouth down upon mine, I am nothing but his... compliant, patient, cooperative... and apparently no fun at all.

He let me go and I tip my head and repeat. "Fish kisses????" And I ask with fire in my eyes, "Or maybe like this?" And I grab his ears and am all the aggressor. He is the one being forced back against the wall. His mouth is the one being taken. It was a kiss like I like. A kiss like I am not allowed to have. All tongue and teeth and lips, wet, violent and hot...

I am not allowed to kiss him deeply, not too rough, not too passionate. My tongue is not allowed to touch his lips. For many years I was not allowed to kiss him with my tongue at all. Closed lips were all I was allowed. It was humiliating.

And today as I took what I was not allowed, he was quick to put me in my place. He had my nipple in a vicious pinch within nanoseconds. I was writhing and yelping for mercy. (That fucker has the most evil skills. He can pinch harder than any clamp.) I was quickly reminded that I am not allowed to take such liberties.

2 comments:

  1. oh. my. gawd.

    i live for kisses like that.

    *sigh*

    only 4 more weeks until i see Sir...he kisses just like what we both like...hawt, and bity, and torturously great!

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  2. bite-y, that should say, not "bitty"!!!

    nilla

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