EVER WONDER HOW YOU GOT TO THIS POINT IN YOUR LIFE?
THE KISSING GAME EXPLAINED in ‘THE LIFE OF A LESBIAN KISSER’© by Linda Bates.
Author of American Dream©
NOW – I’m not going to tell you, or show you, how to kiss a woman. I know how to kiss, and so do you. There is no mystery involved here – OR IS THERE?
THROUGH my life I have kissed a few women, not a lot by lesbian standards, but I have my experiences, and that is where I come to you today. Do you know what it feels like to be me? NO! So I have no idea how your experiences have shaped the way you kiss.
SOMEONE said to me once that I did not kiss right! Well, that statement was absolutely one-hundred percent correct! But it wasn’t true. I do kiss, and very well, if all the positive feedback is anything to go by since that encounter.
BUT allow me to turn back the clock a ways:
I was seven years old, ahh! Here I was, a mucky tomboy, rolling around in the slag heaps playing ‘commando’s’ with my brothers and their other friends, all ‘boys together’! I loved the toy rifles we made from bits of old wood we found in the Pit Yard, (The colloquial term for Colliery premises that had a red sign saying ‘Keep Out!’, but was a red rag to us explorers), and we split into two teams and tumbled across old coke that had been discarded beside a broken fence at the yard’s perimeter. Childhood bliss!
I was very happy with my friends and family around me, and could not comprehend the danger a fallen slag heap beheld! We never really got into trouble, just the odd shout from the men who worked in the Pit Yard to ‘gerrof the slags’, so were oblivious to anyone, and all the danger, as we set about ‘shooting’ each other in our own war game.
One day, Peter Clarke came sliding down the same coke hillock, pushing his foot into my leg, and clonking my head with his makeshift rifle!
“Ouch! That hurt!” I rubbed my head and my leg at the same time. Peter just laughed and scrubbed my hair roughly saying it was alright, I’d live! I don’t know how it happened, I mean, it wasn’t that the earth stood still or anything, it was just that Peter decided to press his warm lips on my cheek and then he kissed my mouth. At seven it was barely sexual, but that was my first kiss. From then on, I practiced the art of kissing, just as we all do. I think it was novel, nothing rude about it. What I did learn was never to kiss Peter Clark again!
Mum got wind of me kissing Peter Clark because I went up for regular bouts. Practice makes perfect, they say, and so I was seen by the gossiping women in the street. But that wasn’t how she discovered my indiscretion. I developed a nasty rash around my mouth, and that is what really drew her attention. I was marched off to the doctors as the rash got a little worse, and the doctor had diagnosed impetigo! Oh dear! Mum put two and two together from the highly contagious symptoms, and put her foot down on the kissing for a while! I never kissed Peter Clarke again, and my brothers chased him off, poor boy, to play on his own. I laugh at those childhood memories now, but back then I was mortified that I could get something from an action that was as innocent as the day!
Years passed, confidence returned, but only fleetingly. I was kissing boys again! I kissed a couple of my brother’s friends. Their flaccid, wet lips sucked like they were sucking jubilee ices, and I found it very unpleasant, but stuck with it, since I remembered how nice it was to have kissed Peter. Yet, nothing seemed to appease me!
I kissed a boy under the railway bridge just down from where our house was. That was the same boy, who after giving me another of those watery smackers, told me I couldn’t kiss! He kissed like a fish! ‘What did he know?’ I told myself!
WELL he had been right. I could not kiss! And I found out by accident one day, when in my sexual awakening, I experimented by kissing a girl! That was it! I was IN! The boy was only half right, because I could not kiss a boy, it was alien to me. I hadn’t been able to put my finger on it before that experience with a girl, but in a sudden pique of astonishing revelation, I kissed a girl, and it was like heaven! I could not kiss a boy, but danged if I was going to let that ruin my progress as a Lesbian Kisser!
FROM that moment on, I kissed only the female of the species! (A half truth, but too big to include here). But as I explained, it’s only my experiences, or those of my friends, but I bet half of you understand where I am coming from by now, and can relate to what I am going to share with you in my next book.
IN IT THERE ARE FIVE WAYS OF KISSING A WOMAN
THIS IS NOT A MANUAL ON HOW TO GET STARTED
IT IS NOT A DETAILED ACCOUNT OF WHAT GOES WHERE
THIS IS A WARM, EMBRACING, OFTEN CANDID LOOK AT MY EXPERIENCES OVER THE YEARS, TOLD IN FIVE TALES OF EXPRESSION YOU COULD NOT FAIL TO COMPREHEND OR RELATE TO!
IT IS AMUSING, OFTEN WITH A POIGNANT MESSAGE, BUT YOU WILL ‘GET IT’
HOWEVER, allow me to share what a reviewer said about this short book: I read it out loud to her recently, and after I had finished, there was a stunned silence. Then she blew out loud and said “Wow! Mind-blowing!” I was stunned by her reaction, and when she recovered herself, she added, “That book is really…well…revealing!”
I have to agree with her!
But I want you to decide: Get this book:
THE LIFE OF A LESBIAN KISSER
by LINDA BATES©
How did I get to this point in my life? By way of those intriguing, beguiling moments of cherished bliss! You will want to savor my thoughts and dreams on this wondrous subject, and I want you to enjoy the breathtaking accounts I compiled just for YOU!
THE LIFE OF A LESBIAN KISSER
BY LINDA BATES©
Coming Shortly on Amazon…