I was going to bed. “Please don’t come into my room at kiss me at midnight,” I complained, “I never got back to sleep.”
Gary said, “Well, you better give me a terrific good-night kiss now. Tongue.”
I can’t remember the last time our tongues made contact. But we tried it. And of course we laughed.
“That’s insane.”
“Really, we liked that once?”
3 responses to “Tongue: 60s Edition”
I think French Kissing only makes sense within a very specific hormonal/tantalization range; outside of that, yes, it is just… weird. Why tongues???
KC – that was his contention, but he laid a great kiss on my me the next day out of nowhere that was a soupçon French, and it was great.
I suppose what I actually meant was “horniness” rather than “hormones” exactly. But perhaps that, also, is not necessary for a kiss that has just a soupçon of Frenchiness…