Kiss Me

KISS-ME

 

The kiss is probably the pinnacle of romanticism from everything that I have observed. The couple who flirt with one another throughout the film in an attempt to create a will they or won’t they scenario, finally kiss and everybody smiles. The kidnapped child is finally reunited with his parents and is smothered in relieved kisses. The power of seduction that exists in that first kiss between a passionate couple which then leads to their love making. A kiss good bye on a steam filled railway platform. As ever, books and films have played their part in elevating the status of the kiss to near legendary status.

Like so much of what I do, the kiss is a weapon which I use to maximise the impact of my machinations. At the outset I shall use it to overpower you. You are unlikely to have much resistance to my overtures following my campaign of love-bombing but if there is any it will be obliterated the first time I kiss you. I have studied a thousand  kisses.

From Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr in From Here to Eternity to Clark Gable and Vivien Leigh in Gone With the Wind through to Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze in Ghost. I have viewed Audrey Hepburn jump from her taxi to kiss George Peppard in the rain in the film, Breakfast at Tiffany’s and the post-nuptial kiss between Prince Charles and Princess Diana. It is not just the famous kisses that have been subjected to my scrutiny. I have sat at railway stations and watched the greeting kiss, full of excitement and passion or the departure kiss which encapsulates longing.

I have watched the almost frenzied and desperate embrace that arises from a man finally ensnaring his quarry in a nightclub after spending a couple of hours chatting her up. Whilst sipping from my drink in a restaurant I see hundreds of kisses between spouses, lovers, friends and acquaintances all delivered in different styles with varying emphasises. All of this knowledge is collated and stored ready for my use.

I have been told many times how good a kisser I am. I am blessed with full lips and therefore do not suffer the sometimes dispassionate affliction that can befall those who have lips of a thinner nature. From my observations I have learned to make my advance slowly, lingering just in front of the other person’s lips as I reach a hand up to cradle their neck and let my fingers lightly caress the back of their neck. My soft lips press gently against theirs and then I retreat slightly before advancing again and then retreating.

I do this several times before allowing my mouth to press on to theirs and remain there as we lock our embrace, lips moving slowly together, each time moving a little wider until a tentative tongue gently probes and touches against hers. My tongue flicks back and forth as the embrace grows stronger. I can hear her low moan of delight and know that this approach is working. I reach another arm around her and pull her closer to me, bodies pressed against one another and now her mouth has opened wider, her own tongue almost battling with mine.

I know that the tingle will be racing up and down her spine; I know that she will feel the churning in her stomach and that light headedness will be sweeping across her. I am well practised in the art of the seductive kiss and during our golden period I shall allow you to experience it often. I shall do it when we meet in my house at the end of the day, I will embrace you in that fashion when I lead you by the hand to our bedroom and I shall surprise you by grabbing hold of you in the lift and kissing you in this way.

What of course is all the sweeter about being able to embrace you in such a scintillating fashion is the fact that I will withdraw this marvellous kiss. You will take hold of me and push your mouth against mine only to find that my lips are set rigid and do not respond in the way you have been used to. There is no warmth or passion. You wonder where it has gone. The truth is that there was never any there to begin with. Like so much of what I do, it is an artifice purely designed to capture you and make the inevitable denigration all the more contrasting.

I can see the confusion in your eyes as you try again to kiss me but the effect is the same. You look at me, eyes searching for an answer but I do not offer one. You ask me what is wrong and I look away and say that there is nothing wrong. I have a variety of responses which confuse you when you try to kiss me or expect to be kissed. When once I kissed you often and repeatedly I will reduce it to next to nothing. This reduction coupled with a lack of explanation has you flailing around for some kind of reason. You end up blaming yourself of course that is to be expected. I will do any or all of the following:-

  1. Remain tight-lipped when we kiss;
  2. Move my head so you kiss my cheek rather than my mouth;
  3. Put my hand up and block your advance;
  4. Hug you instead so that your kiss flies into thin air over my shoulder
  5. Just walk away

Where once my kiss was magical and uplifting, now it is cold or non-existent. You relished our passionate embraces and now you find yourself remarking how it is like kissing an automaton or a mannequin. I do not care. All I wish to achieve is your pained and hurt reaction to the cold front that I exhibit where once there was heat and passion.

3 thoughts on “Kiss Me

  1. Asp Emp says:

    LOL. “like kissing an automaton or a mannequin”. Oh,yes, I remember now. With the Lesser. He’d pissed me off one day. Once. Again. He tried to kiss me. I remained unresponsive. LOL. I certainly had ‘narcissistic’ traits back then. LOL. How fascinating to realise that about myself, now. It’s certainly been an interesting (and yet saddening, at times) learning experience since I started reading KTN. Some memories come to the fore. On this one,certainly. LOL. Serves him right (the little s**te).

  2. B says:

    It is traits that I possess such as this that led me to discover that I’m of the super empath cadre. I thought I was each of the narcissistic qualities he assaulted me with, although I had proof I was not the instigator nor the elevating factor in almost every argument.

    What once was me holding him accountable (something he relished/ I was the only woman who accomplished it 🙄) turned into me being a (insert any number of slights) c u next Tuesday. During the devaluation period this went on numerous times. Each grievance that I held my ground on (you know like my boundary of not wanting to witness him verbally abuse his children and demand change. All I asked for was that when disciplining his children he approach it from a place of love and patience, you know something a reasonable person would already be doing) exploded with some terribly heinous act on his behalf that I would begin the process of ending the relationship) effectively culminated in a thousand and one apologies and promises to change. To which he would begin to ‘make changes’ (to him that meant putting on a complete show for the kids. Yet calling me a stupid fucking cunt however many times in front of them prior to you leaving to have your temper tantrum; as I required if you were to stay)

    I wonder (and if I’m thinking about this logically even) if a narcissist is sent to jail due to holding them accountable for actions that they knowingly and intentionally used as a method of control that effectively negates a Hoover; correct?

    1. HG Tudor says:

      A narcissist in prison is still able to hoover certain appliances and it becomes more difficult with regard to other appliances. What you should rely on is your no contact regime, not what the narcissist is or is not doing.

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