Smoochies.

I love kissing. Being face against face, literally tasting a man with eyes closed and my whole being somehow living in my lips and tongue and slightly unsure where my mouth ends and his begins.

Everyone has a different taste. Semen's all the same, far as I can tell; sweat and saliva are intensely personal. I only kissed my friend Clark once, years ago, and if I tasted him again I'd instantly know. There are no good words for the scent of a man's mouth--instead of a thought it's a feeling and the memory of all the times I've kissed him before.

Kissing before sex. Arousing, maddening, a single kiss sometimes enough to make him hard and me wet. Kissing during sex. Tender, passionate, connecting bodies on a solid line from thighs to foreheads, sweaty. Kissing after sex. Sealing in the bliss.

And "making out"--something I wish I could do more--just kissing and kissing and kissing and for its own sake and not letting it end.

Out in public, a peck on the cheek. No great sensual pleasure, but we know what it means. There's electricity in the lips and a promise of what will happen when we're alone.

There's no masturbation for kissing. Kissing your hand just makes you feel like a dork. There's no good kissing in porn and there's no kiss fetish community. Kissing on screen, even the kind of kiss that shoots straight to your groin and makes you gasp and clutch the back of your partner's head, is G rated.

I like it when a man's kiss is a little slobbery, a little uncontrolled. Being a "good kisser" isn't half so important as forgetting to care whether you're good.