Just a Kiss. [tw: mentions of abuse]

[Guest QueenJellybean]

When he used to kiss me, it always felt wrong.

 

Mashed lips against mine, tasting of tobacco and grease and his mocking laughter.
His tongue beating mine into submission, into silence from within my own mouth.
Fingers twisting in my hair and yanking hard enough to make me wince, forcing my head to the place where he wanted it the whole time, a ruse for his true intentions.
But I was so hungry, so desperate for affection then that I’d take whatever I could get, even if it was his cracked lips making mine bleed.

 

Since then, I’ve had trouble.

I used to watch romantic movies and listen to the music swell as the two lovers embraced, knowing a kiss was coming next. As a young adult, I would cheer along with my friends, hoping the next moment would be the long-awaited one.

But I had never experienced it like they had. I had no prior knowledge of what that felt like. In fact, the very idea of kissing made my stomach turn. Why would anyone find that attractive? Why would anyone want to crush their faces together like he did to me? What could be appealing about that?

 

I’ve had lovers who have tried.
Sweet girls with honey-flavored lips tentatively pecking at my mouth between soft sighs, licking a dribble of Popsicle juice my tongue missed.
Tender boys who sob and whine after I’ve made them cry with pleasure, humbly peppering my boots and thighs with kisses before cradling my face and pressing their lips to mine.
Rougher creatures who claimed my lips as theirs in a fit of passion, growling and grunting as their teeth fought with mine, tasting of skin, blood, and promise.

But I always felt nothing. And I thought myself broken for it.

I said nothing too, and as I grew up, I learned this was my downfall. For once I began to tell about it, the easier the kissing became.

 

His lips are never chapped, or rough. They are always as soft as butter, and the way he groans “Kiss me” makes my insides turn to scrambled eggs.
His fingers never twist in my hair, they always curl at the nape of my neck and direct me closer, but he’s always effortlessly tender.
I find myself pushing closer to kiss him longer, and when I cannot kiss anymore, he lets me pull away and brushes the tears from my eyes and the hair from my face.

He has never told me that not being able to kiss him makes me less.

Her tongue never pushes against my lips, never begging for more than I’m willing to give, and the times that our tongues have brushed, or the kiss has deepened, she’s never murmured a word about it.
She never tastes like anything other than sunshine, and she always smells like a sweet honeysuckle, freshly picked as she presses herself to me.
Our kisses are simple, and I don’t hesitate at them anymore. I give them freely, and I give them without restraint. It’s become normal, and commonplace, and it feels good to not flinch back from them.

She has never told me that not being able to kiss her makes me less.

He grabbed my face and stared into my eyes before His lips met mine, a silent answering to the question I am asking, and I feel my soul leave my body past my parted lips as He dribbles them down my body, marking every part of me as His. 
And he asked permission the first time, tilting his head towards me and fingers brushing down my arm. “Can I kiss you?” I was never so breathless to say yes.

 

When he used to kiss me, it always felt wrong.

Now, it doesn’t.

Edited July 23, 2018 by babyjellybean

[Guest You're adorable.]

This is EXACTLY the kind of thing that I love. The contemplation of our difference form the masses, our deviation. It is a very powerful thing, that even if you can't relate exactly, you can relate to the fact that there is this something that separates you. Another thing that I really appreciate is this "purity in twistedness", this theme, if masterfuly crafted, can leave us with emotions far more powerful and impressions far more deep than any normal love story out there, no matter how intricate. Short enough to get through in a matter of minutes and without losing even a fragment of interest, yet long enough to pull you in and let you experience it "firsthand". All in all, very enjoyable piece and I am really glad that I came across this since I don't browse forum very often.

 

I applaud you once more, babyjellybean. Good job.

[Guest QueenJellybean]

This is EXACTLY the kind of thing that I love. The contemplation of our difference form the masses, our deviation. It is a very powerful thing, that even if you can't relate exactly, you can relate to the fact that there is this something that separates you. Another thing that I really appreciate is this "purity in twistedness", this theme, if masterfuly crafted, can leave us with emotions far more powerful and impressions far more deep than any normal love story out there, no matter how intricate. Short enough to get through in a matter of minutes and without losing even a fragment of interest, yet long enough to pull you in and let you experience it "firsthand". All in all, very enjoyable piece and I am really glad that I came across this since I don't browse forum very often.

 

I applaud you once more, babyjellybean. Good job.

 

thank you so much for your kind words, old man.

i appreciate them more than i could ever express. 

 

i'm glad my writing resonated with you.

it inspires me to post more.

[Guest Mossy]

Beautiful