I have a problem I don’t know how to solve: I’m desperate
to be kissed. I’m SO scared I’ve lost kisses forever, that gentle little Herpes
1 has doomed me to a lifetime of cheek kisses, of soft mouth-deflections, of
down-the-neck avoidance. I LOVE a good kiss down the neck, but since the
diagnosis it’s been a pathway to shame, just like, oh no, this again. In
Codependents Anonymous speak, kissing and maybe all of dating has become
unmanageable.
I even Googled “Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous,” but
there’s no meetings near me and I don’t think my schedule can handle another
regular thing. Plus, it’s not ALL of it that I’m freaking about, literally just
the kissing.
I’ve had one really emphatic kisser since the
not-a-big-deal-but-apparently-it-is diagnosis. He was rough, too suctiony, but
absolutely ravenous. I’m so grateful for the hope and chafing he gave me. There
was a sweet-but-not-a-match kiss outside of a perfect-in-every-way lunch date. (Oh,
this whole kissing embargo thing might be just in my head. I mean, duh.) Then
there was Heart Emoji Guy, the connection that ended with a very scary “I know
where you live.”
Which brings us to mid-August, and the Reluctant
Kisser. After I finished my pretty harness despite the kitten’s best efforts,
RK climbed into bed with me, still shy but a little less so. He wrapped me up
in his long arms big spoon style, and I wiggled my butt cozily against him with
a happy sigh. One of my favorite parts of any first date, the venture, the pull-and-tingle
of a man’s hands inside my bra. He was gentle and playful, and I let out a bigger
moan than I meant to.
I turned over toward him and went for a kiss, and he
did the glancing-off thing—cheek, chin, neck, cleavage. I was so hungry for a
mouth on mine that it was hard to enjoy those sensations, but I was determined
not to let the fear get the best of me. I wanted to just let myself have nice
things, just be in the moment and reward this guy for all his very sweet
kitten-distracting.
But when he took out his gorgeous cock—so long, hard,
and perfectly cylindrical, so very very cozy to hold, to squeeze, to run my
thumb over the tip and feel the happy warmth of pre-cum—I just couldn’t make
myself get past the kissing thing.
“I can’t fuck without kissing,” I admitted, and we
talked for a little bit about the herpes situation. I’d disclosed before we met
in person—after Heart Emoji Guy I was scared to have anyone in my space without
telling them first. Here in bed, I tried to be factual, honest, and open to his
boundaries. I hope I did a good job, I’m so extra scared lately about not being
a good citizen of sex!
He did kiss me, and it was a good one. His tongue was
kind and expert, and I liked the way his beard enveloped my lips. But I still
felt like I was harming him, so I didn’t press for more kisses, just relaxed
into the next stages of a gorgeous fuck.
Yesterday it occurred to me while I was washing my
hands—the fear of disease, of infecting someone, of accidentally being some
kind of germ predator, is a pretty understandable reaction in the wake of not
just my Nineties coming of age, but of the bad Covid years. My body and heart
went through so much then and is still living in that time a little bit, the
death, the isolation, the heartlessness of some, the general eugenics vibe I
was getting from my brother, mom, and aunts—that’s so much for a body and mind
and soul to take in.
Plus I lost almost my entire sense of smell! Of all
the senses to lose, that’s the best choice, but it’s still a pretty painful
change to go through. I haven’t caught Covid since last December, but long
Covid still seems like a force of entropy living in my bones.
I’m still broken from all of it and I’m sure so is
everyone I might hope to kiss.
Unmanageable.
So I guess before part three wherein I tell you about
the good fucking, I just want to stop and say, oh bodies. How do we get through
any of this. How do we touch and kiss and risk and trust in the midst and the
wake of so much terror, so much needless destruction.
Thank you, bodies, you are miracles of generosity and
strength and tenacity and pleasure and beauty. I love you so, so much.
