Yeah, I'm a great kisser.
I was told by a girl once that I should teach a course on how to kiss properly. I thought that was really a nice compliment. I then asked her what she thought about my sexual prowess and she recommended I talk to a guy she used to date. Body blow.
Where did you learn to kiss like that?” I said, a little breathless. He grinned and pulled me close again. “I said I was a virgin, not a monk,” he said, kissing me again. “If I find I need guidance, I’ll ask.
We sat and kissed and kissed until our lips were bloody. I could have gone on kissing her for a year.
Yeah, because when you’re attracted to someone, you actually enjoy kissing them and afterward, you don’t act like you kissed Adolf Hitler.
They say that a good cook can ignite sparks by the way he kisses. The way I see, just because a guy can turn on the stove doesn't necessarily make him a good cook.
Okay, this was kissing. Serious kissing. Not just a kiss before moving out, not a good-bye, this was Hello, sexy, and wow, she’d never even suspected that it could feel this way.
What are you doing?" "I'm going to enjoy a long overdue make-out session with my girl. That's what I'm doing." I explained, stepping into the room and closing the door behind me with one shove of my foot.
Seth was a wonderful kisser. He gave the kind of kisses that melted into your mouth and filled you with sweetness. They were like cotton candy.
There was French kissing, and then there was Cajun French kissing. Spicier, harder, wilder.
Kissing Sinclair was like making out with a sexy timber wolf— he was licking my fangs and nipping me lightly and growling under his breath and it was...oh, it was really something.
