This morning, I dreamt about lying next to a delicious man and kissing him for what seemed like an eternity.  It was an exercise in the art of mindfulness.  Nothing would have pleased me more than ripping off my clothes and giving it up to my subconscious lover.  However, he held me fast and made love to my mouth like Rudolph Valentino. 

Aside from last night, I can’t remember when making out was the end in itself.  Was it high school?  Hours spent lip-locked with a boy in the front seat of a car, tasting the infinite flavors inside his mouth, feeling the slow creep of moisture descend from within until my panties soaked through my jeans and the scent of sweat and arousal was so strong you could cut it with a knife. 

Who has the time for lengthy foreplay?  We’re in a rush to get to the finish line and collapse, hoping to forget the mountain of tasks that await in the morning.  Snogging has been reprioritized to the bottom of the list.

Yet, is it not through the lips that we learn to surrender to our lover?  We also detect the subtle fluctuations in their health, mood, and receptivity.  If we constantly bypass this source of information, then it’s no wonder we become distant from our beloved.   They are as blank to us as any stranger even though they share our bed.

I recently overheard a conversation between two obviously frustrated women.  One of them complained that her husband refused to kiss her because ‘it was no longer a necessity now that they were married’.  Perhaps he, as do others, believes that once the ring is on the finger, the pump is continuously primed.

That’s the catch in long-term relationships:  the pump is seldom attended to, as if it’s expected to function without assistance.  But no one talks about what comes after happily ever after.  We presume the years will be spent on a cloud.

Not that I would mind a cloud, especially one with the silver lining that I’ve heard told.  But I don’t know anybody who actually found one.   Instead, we leave behind torrid courtships and enter the dismal monotony of marriage.  Who wants that?  Even the most frumpy hausfrau wants to be desired.

Chicks just can’t get enough romance and throwdown… which probably explains the popularity of the formulaic Lifetime movies.  Who cares about the paper-thin plot and wooden acting!  All that stuff is just a vehicle for what we really want:  HEAT!


3 Responses to “IN PRAISE OF THE SNOG”

  1. What a great write up but, its amazing is coming from a woman. However I will appreciate knowing if you are single or married because you sound experienced in the write up.
    Keep it u.

  2. More snogging please.

  3. Actually, between boyfriends for now, that’s what I really miss most.

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