Hello, friends.
I want to tell you a secret. It's the secret of the bliss kiss. It's a very real thing, you see; it's not just a book title.
When I was in high school, during our senior year, we had a big homecoming game, just like everyone else in the US. Only our high school won big. Huge. The score was 69-20. What a game!
Now readers, your friendly neighborhood erotica writer knew a bit about herself even back then. I knew I liked cheerleaders at least as much as football players. I wasn't sure what to do about it, yet, but I knew it.
And when we returned from the football field to a far off area of the school grounds where they'd set up everything for a victory bonfire, all us kids were riding a huge emotional high. We felt giddy, forever young, and most of us pretty turned on.
Everyone was hooting, shouting, chanting, cheering, screaming and blasting music. Gatorade and pop were flowing and, well hidden from teachers and coaches and other snoopy adults, a couple players had snuck in some beer hidden in Coke bottles.
It was a scene.
At the height of the festivities, a hulking tight end (or did he just have a tight end?) came up to shy little Sarah and hooted in her face. I hooted right back. We kept this going a few times and before I even understood what was happening, we were kissing.
The big guy's hands were all over me. His smelled of sour sweat and Old Spice and he rammed his tongue so far down my throat I almost gagged while he squeezed my boobs mercilessly. And for a moment, I almost didn't care. I was giddy; my head was buzzing from the noise and excitement and the atmosphere and I suppose if I'd had any of those Coke bottle beers, I'd have been ripe to faint away.
But not for long; soon I shook off the buzz I was under and pushed him away. The guy didn't care; he just moved on to the next girl and did it all over again.
But one of my gal-pal's was there.
"Wow, Sarah," she said, "I've never seen you kiss a guy like that! Especially a guy like Tony! You must be really happy we won!"
"I am." I felt at a loss for words. "But, that wasn't... I mean... Oh God, everyone's going to be talking about that now at school. I don't want that type of attention. Normally, I'd never..."
"I know." My friend's voice was loud enough to hear over the noise around us, but reassuring nonetheless. "Look around you."
I did. Lots of kids were shouting, hugging, screaming, kissing, fondling, and generally getting out of control.
"Everyone's doing it," she said. "It's no big deal. It's being caught up in the moment. A bliss kiss, nothing more."
"A bliss kiss?" I asked.
"A kiss caused by the joy of the moment," she shouted. "Forget about it. Everyone else will. No commitment. It means nothing. Just a bliss kiss."
That was the first time I heard of a bliss kiss. And now, a bit older and wiser, I'm passing on my wisdom and understanding of this phenomenon to you all, in my slender little tome.
As always, enjoy!
Hi, Sarah: I thought I'd pop over here and check out your work since you're now stalking, I mean following me on Twitter. I almost gave up because it seemed like all you had on the site were book jackets, and then I find this lone post. Hopefully, you'll write more here in the future. By the way, I've never heard of a bliss kiss either, but I like the concept. Now, I've just got to go find some bliss...
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