~ a poem ~
Our kiss didn't end the moment our lips parted. The warmth of your breath, your mouth, lingered on my skin. Even as I stepped back. Even as I smiled and told you bye. Even as we walked away.
I felt your kiss throughout my day. In moments that came without warning. In thoughts of you. In stolen seconds where I turned my head to the side, looked down, and smiled. In breaths where all I wanted was you here, near me, and your lips on mine again.
Your kiss gave me energy throughout my day. As work tried to tear me down. As people gave me misery. Your kiss gave me joy. Hope to get through. Happiness at the thought of you. And glee, knowing I would be able to kiss you again so soon.
Your kiss caught me randomly, at times. When I waited in line for food. As I looked for something or other on my desk. On the walk to talk to someone. You were there. Hands in my hair, on my neck. Lips against mine. Breath and passion and longing. And we were kissing all over again.
I was glad no one could hear my thoughts. Feel what I felt. The heat of it. The wanting. The joy. That kiss was ours. Our moment. Our break from the everyday. Our embracing of each other. Connection and passion and need and home.
As I make my way back to you, I can't stop thinking about it. Can't stop thinking about you. Don't want to stop remembering. Living in that moment. And looking forward to the next time we kiss.
A moment later, my pouting somewhat subsided, MattP and Roughinamorato announced they needed a nipple. Of course, since I was right there and am always happy to be helpful, I volunteered. I quickly disrobed, removing my school Gir shirt, tie and bra, standing in front of them in just my Gir booty shorts.
To show what he wanted to demonstrate, Matt needed small diameter rope. He stepped away in search of the proper chord.
With just Rough and I standing there, I then realized I didn't have my glasses. I walked back over to the side of the room where we'd spoken just five or ten minutes earlier. They weren't there.
Turning to Rough, I wondered if he was hiding them.
"Do you have my glasses?" Stepping back towards him, I saw he held his hands behind his back.
"Do I have your glasses?" he asked. And then I saw them... hanging from his shirt. Once again, something was hidden right in front of my face.
Just as the revelation came, Matt re-entered the room. He could not find the rope he wanted, but he had found a twist tie. Matt twisted around one of my nipples and then pulled it towards the other. I asked if I could push them together to make the process easier. They both consented.
With both my nipples now connected, Rough instructed me to put my arms out to the side. I slowly let go, allowing the tie to take the weight, pulling my sensitive flesh, until the twist failed, one wrenching free.
Matt decided they needed another and quickly found a second twist tie. This time Rough connected the twist ties and then applied them to my nipples, again with my assistance. Once more Rough asked me to let go and I did. This time the twist ties stayed, pulling my nipples together.
Success achieved, Matt stepped away; Rough remained.
"What did you ask me earlier?"
"May I kiss you?"
"Louder."
"May I kiss you?"
"Louder."
"May I kiss you?"
"They can't hear you in the other room."
"May I kiss you!?"
"I don't know. Can you?"
With my arms still out to the sides, I slowly leaned into him. I danced my lips close to his. I softly brushed my nose on his. I was but millimeters away.
Slap!
He smacked me across my face. My head whipped back, but my lips quickly returned. Again I danced near him. Again I played so close to his mouth, our lips so close to touching.
Slap!
"You can do better than that."
His words drove. Unhindered from my soft restraint, I moved faster. Tried harder.
I rushed in to kiss him. Slap!
I stepped forward, my lips so close to his. Slap!
I brought my arms up to block him, grab him.
He took hold of my throat and turned me, pushing me backwards even as I continued to urge myself towards his body.
Thunk!
He slammed me against the back wall. My left leg instinctively wrapped around his waist, keeping him close, holding him where he'd put us, trying to pull him into me.
"That's better," he said.
My mouth now found his lower lip, just softly touching it. I could feel a hint of stubble.
Releasing, my mouth immediately found his lower lip again, gently caressing it.
I wanted more, so much more. I wanted to ravage his lips with my mouth, for our tongues to dance, to loose my breath in his kiss. But just this, the slightest of touches, the most subtle of kisses, was what he granted me.
In that moment, I was out of breath. I felt the passion bubbled up in our violence. For those brief seconds, I was lost in the sphere of the wall, my body, and his lips.
Letting go, Rough stepped back, picked up my glasses from his shirt, and handed them to me.
"Thank you," I said. For, well, everything...
He placed his hand on my forehead as I leaned against the wall to regain my composure. Soon I righted my breath.
With me somewhat back to normal, Rough simply said, "Time for lunch."
She presented it in a way I had never thought about. She spoke about a passion one would not immediately think of: kissing. She pointed out how most people in the scene viewed kissing as a vanilla activity, but it didn't have to be. Kissing could be a scene all in itself.
As Symetrie spoke, she made eye contact with a blonde woman sitting a few feet from me. Symetrie talked about connection, creating contact with another human being, letting down all your walls. Symetrie sought to engage her entire self with this other person.
As she approached the blonde, the intensity in the room grew. Getting closer and closer, Symetrie spoke about the delicious tease, the almost kiss being part of the kiss too.
As Symetrie danced her lips all around the blonde, and then finally let their lips meet, she spoke on how each moment was about learning from each other, constantly checking in, always being present. There kiss was about the now, this moment, this interaction. Their breathing had become synchronized. They were in and of each other.
In a rush, Symetrie pushed the blonde backwards, the blonde's back now against the couch I sat on, her arm touching my leg. As Symetrie continued the kiss, as she interacted with this woman, I put down my pen, tilted my head, and found myself enrapture by just watching them.
When their dynamic switched, the blonde pushed Symetrie down, sat on her, and took control. But, just as quickly, Symetrie again was the aggressor. Symetrie's kiss with the blonde incited emotions in the spontaneous bottom she did not expect. Symetrie ended the kiss, allowing the blonde to melt into the arms of her lover.
Symetrie then brought Roughinamorato to the front of the class.
For this particular part, he would be her demo top. Symetrie noted how Rough was known for his rough body play. She spoke about how impact can still be part of the kiss. Symetrie asked Rough to hit her in her solar plexus and then kiss her.
Rough started unexpectedly. Bringing her in close, he lightly kissed Symetrie's lips...and then pulled her back, punched her sternum, grabbed her hair, and brought her lips back to his.
This first kiss demonstrated, Syemtrie further explained what she wanted. She sought for Rough to knock the wind out of her, but asked him to be wary of her breasts. Rough, ever safety minded, encouraged her to disrobe, which Symetrie did (for safety).
As her dress came off, Rough asked if Symetrie had ever had the wind knocked out of her from a hit in the back. She hadn't.
Rough grabbed her and swung her around. Using his forearm, Rough hit her once, twice, thrice in the back, knocking the wind out of her. Grabbing her throat, her swung her back around and kissed her, then slipped his hand over her nose. His kiss was now also breath play. As she began to struggle, Rough sighed out, his breath entering Symetrie's lungs, giving her the sensation of breathing while still depriving her of oxygen.
After Rough released her lips, Symetrie informed the class we were going on a field trip. Walking upstairs, we invaded Gray's Intro to Rope class. For this last lesson, Symetrie spoke about using implements as an extension of a kiss. Gray caressed his rope across Symetrie's body, using tension, his goal to convey the feeling of himself through his rope.
Finishing up, Symetrie left us with a few thoughts. What reaction did we want the other person to have? What sound did we want to occur?
Symetrie then released us to go practice what we learned.
