Kissy-Kissy

Sleep unable to find me, I lie naked under my sheets, a hand across my breasts, the other stretched atop my thigh.

The dim streetlight filters through my cotton bedroom shades and its shadows dancing on my ceiling are all I see.

For I know that when I close my eyes again, you’ll flood back in front of them. Like you always do.

In imaginings of those things soon to happen. Of ecstasy. Of this moment we've spoken of for so long, as those miles pulled us apart all that time.

it’s been a long time comin’
it’s been a long time comin’
i’m gonna stab your kissy-kissy mouth

My mind swirls with thoughts of the warm wetness of your mouth. How your kiss will leave me tingling and weak from my torso to my knees. How I'll weaken in your possessive grasp. How I long to breathe you in and taste you.

And now, mere hours separate us.

it’s been a long time comin’

All those conversations about wanting. Promises made. Events foretold. Fantasies divulged. Talk, that’s all we’ve had.

And all of it to blame on my kissing you on a whim that night, moments before you left. When I broke that boundary between us. You surprised me. Overcome, you forced me against the wall, kissing me as if you were already penetrating me.

That night returns to me so often, stirring desires.

So many bitter-sweet memories of arousal. So many moments left satiated by myself, and never you. So many wrongs. So many regrets. So many things to make right.

And yet that night is all I recall.

it’s been
a long time comin’

How hard you felt. The way you pinned my arms to the wall, pressed into me, restraining me. The distant droning as your cab driver laid intermittently on his horn out there in that shadowy cul-de-sac, and despite it, you continuing to probe me intently with your tongue. The sound of your devastatated gulp when finally you knew you had to pull away.

The feeling then, knowing that a plane was to steal you away to London, where a year of university awaited you. Knowing that you were leaving me for that year with nothing but a kiss, a grope, and that feeling of being overpowered against a wall to tide me over.

And now, nothing but a jet over the Atlantic keeps us apart. In less than eight hours, you’ll be in my arms. Now, at the mere thought of you, my heartbeat collides upon itself in a cacophony of expectation and need.

it’s been a long time comin’

And now, nothing but a jet over the Atlantic keeps us apart. In less than eight hours, you’ll be in my arms. Now, at the mere thought of you, my heartbeat collides upon itself in a cacophony of expectation and need.

i’m gonna stab your kissy-kissy heart

The need to fuck you, the tease finally done. To have you within me -- thrusting, holding, lasting. To finally know if it’s to be everything it was promised to be during those expensive, desperate, by-the-minute sessions spent gasping, wanting, yet denied, on the phone.

I know it will be. I knew it would be when I was pinned against that wall, wanting you as badly then as I do now. As badly as you clearly wanted me. It overwhelms me to think how that desire has since grown, and how forcefully you might take me eight hours from now. And how much I desire you to spend me utterly.

Never have I wanted a man like this, like I want you now.

it’s been a long time comin’

*The lyrics included are from Kissy-Kissy, a dirty blues-rock/punk ballad by a guitar duo fittingly from both sides of the Atlantic called The Kills. Live, this song was one of the most erotic, driving sexual things I have ever, ever witnessed. I felt dirty and abused at the end, and wanted nothing more than to not go home alone. The gentle licking of guitar strings and steady throbbing beat coupled with wistful, pained Velvet Underground-ish vocals tinted with a touch of PJ Harvey gets me hot every single time. The duo endlessly repeats the same lyrics over the five minutes, and it ebbs like the slow rhythmic cadence of two experienced, passionate lovers in no rush to reach their destination.