Oh, I’m a girl who LOVES so many things. I’m just a lover, Kittens.

I love to recklessly spend heaps of money on things I don’t need. I love to avoid the dull responsibilities of our mundane reality by gazing for hours and hours at the glossy pages of deluxe fashion magazines. I love cold bubbly champagne in a stemmed glass on a hot day in mid-July.

I even love you. (I don’t know you, but I still love you.)

But you know what I love more than anything in the cruel, cold world? I love to kiss. I’m obsessed with kissing. If I’m not kissing, I’m thinking about kissing. I can’t look at pillowy lips without imagining what it would be like to kiss them. I live in between kisses.

A 22-year-old co-worker of mine casually mentioned the other day that “a lot of people aren’t into kissing these days.” She says most people would rather just cut to the chase. Get down and dirty with the SEX. I mean, who needs kissing when you could just go straight to ~the oral~?

My freshly lip-glossed mouth hung open wide in extreme shock and spine-tingling horror. I had to pick it up off the cement floor of the conference room.

Look, I love sex as much as the next sex fiend in daytime red lipstick, but come on! Kissing and sex are beautifully intertwined! But maybe I’m just old school. An old-fashioned broad. A displaced fair maiden better suited for another generation.

Because regardless of what the kids think, I will always think kissing is the incredible, amazing, prelude to sex.

Casual hookup or NOT, sex is majorly intimate. Another person is inside of you. That sh*t is real. It’s intense. It’s intimate as f*ck! How can you possibly tell what kind of partner your lover is going to be if you haven’t explored the inside of his or her lush mouth?

A kiss doesn’t lie. I can tell the way you will taste, the rhythm of your movement, the level of your sensuality and exactly the kind of lover you’ll be by the way your lips touch mine.

The “aggressive lip bite” kisser

Look, I’m not going to lie; in the bloom of my wild, sordid youth, I was a bit of an aggressive lip-biter.

However, I’ve become a more refined kisser (and more refined lover) with age, and I’ve calmed down with the biting. Now I just go in for a sneaky little kinky bite here and there.

An aggressive lip-biter, one who bites down HARD on your lower lip, is going to be a fiery, emotionally loaded, aggressive creature in the bedroom. Look, it’s not everyone’s style, and I get it. Most people don’t really like to get bitten.

But some people I know (me) like it a little rough. I mean, what’s life without a bit of danger and thrill?

This is the kind of person who will f*ck you in the kitchen, in a boardroom or in a scandalous bathroom at a fancy dinner party. The aggressive lip-biter is fearless and will f*ck you anywhere.

Aggressive lip-biters like to be in control of all sexual situations. They take the reigns in and out of the bedroom. They’re true doms. If you’re into it, amazing. If it’s not your thing, walk away, baby. That’s the beautiful thing about sex. You can always walk the f*ck away if it doesn’t feel good.

Zara’s tip: Get aggressive back at aggressive lip-biters. Put them in their places. It makes for a HOT power dynamic. And sex is all about power dynamics.

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The “big f*cking tease” kisser

Who doesn’t love a bit of the ol’ tease? I love anything that’s hard to get (designer clothes, reservations, people), so I love a tease.

I mean if we get it too quickly and too easily, don’t we deem it cheap? I know I do (but I’m also in year three of therapy).

This is the kind of kisser who will go in for the kiss kill, then pull away, seductively and s-l-o-w-l-y, leaving you BEGGING FOR MORE. Agh, I find myself wildly turned on just writing about it. Teasers, come find me and kiss me, ASAP.

PSA: These kissers will f*ck you slowly. They won’t give it to you easily. You will have to work for it, my sensual sisters. It will be long, drawn-out sex. At least an hour.

It will be torture, but you’ll love every SECOND of it, you naughty little minx.

The “oral exam” kisser

OK, so you’ve had a few drinks. You’re vibing with a new date. In fact, maybe you’re gazing at her pillowy lips, DYING for the chance to make sweet love to that precious pout. Until she kisses you.

And it’s not a f*cking kiss. It’s an oral examination. It’s like being at the dentist. His or her tongue is checking out the status of your molars, the texture of your freshly whitened teeth, your sore gums. It’s as if he or she is going to find some secret hidden in the darkest depths of your little mouth.

It’s slightly violating and brings back traumatic memories of the orthodontist as a teenager. I don’t want to think about having braces when I’m making out with you. That ship has sailed, and I never want to go back to that dark, unsexy time of my life.

And let me tell you DIRECTLY from my wealth of personal experience that the “oral exam” kisser is just going to be to all over you during sex. He or she will slobber all over your precious body. It’s like hooking up with a 13-year-old boy who is just TOO EXCITED to see naked boobs.

Gender is irrelevant. I’ve hooked up with a ton of women who are “oral exam” kissers, and they are way too slobbery in the bedroom. I’ve said it before, and I will say it again: “If I wanted to hook up with a prepubescent boy, I would.”

At this stage in the sex game, if you “oral exam” me in the kiss, I won’t go home with you. I don’t like to be clawed at. I don’t want to feel like you’re a little puppy dog licking me up and down. GROSS.

PSA: Oh and ew, this person is really bad at oral sex, too.

The “open mouth, no tongue” kisser

Have you ever kissed someone who opens his or her mouth and hardly lets the tongue in at all? It’s a very hollow kiss.

Look, I’m not into overly aggressive tongue action, either. But give me a little tongue, baby. Because when I add a little tongue, I feel like I’m violating you when you’re not giving me anything back. I don’t like to feel that way.

From my experience (god, I’m really realizing how “seasoned,” AKA SLUTTY, I am), the “open mouth, no tongue” kisser is almost always a germaphobe.

F*cking a germaphobe is an interesting thing. Germaphobes are spectacularly clean and well-groomed, which I hugely appreciate. I love a clean body. However, you can feel a little judged when hooking up with the ol’ germaphobe.

You know that while they’re going to be solid, dutiful lovers, they’ll have to coach themselves out of their germaphobia. You know a part of them isn’t going to be present because no matter how sexy and gorgeous you are, they’re a little worried they are going to catch a cold from you or something.

Zara’s tip: I f*ck with this type of kisser because I like a challenge. Make it a game to break through to him or her and get that tongue action in. Be so HOT and so sensual (dirty talk, thigh-highs, the whole ordeal) that you get that pesky little germaphobe to forget about his or her fear of a stranger’s spit, and get him or her doing all the kinds of dirty things germaphobes never dreamed they’d do.

It’s a good exercise for them. A selfless act, really.

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The “manic lizard tongue” kisser

I know you know exactly what the hell I’m talking about: the manic lizard tongue. The hard tongue that darts in and out of your mouth like a f*cking jackhammer.

These kissers are the type that will soullessly f*ck you. It will be sex that doesn’t evolve or progress. You will be f*cked the exact same moderate rhythm the whole time.

The lizard tongue types carry too much tension to play around and be all sensual. They are the masters of the cold f*ck. And truth be told, it’s almost never worth it.

If you’re kissing a manic lizard tongue, I recommend NOT going home with him or her. Even if he or she is really hot or super famous.

I hate soulless sex, even if it’s just a one-night stand. It leaves you feeling very vulnerable the next day, and it’s not even satisfying. The last time this happened to me, I woke somewhere deep in Brooklyn, thinking “I can’t believe I took a $40 Uber for this” and proceeded to shame spiral for the next three days.

I want better for you.

The “face touch” kisser

The most tender of kissers! There is something so intensely sweet (yet surprisingly sexy) about someone who softly touches your face when you’re making out. It’s like this person is reading your soul or something, as you kiss, kiss, kiss the night away.

The “face toucher” really wants you. The face toucher might be a little in love with you. Even if it’s a first kiss (We all know love at first kiss is very real.), the face toucher is moved by YOU.

This is a raw f*ck. This is going to be a gaze-into-your-eyes, “love sex” type of night. Your hands will be intertwined. You will work through years of repressed issues because this is emotional sex, babe. This is the kind of sex in which you get to know someone through the sex, which is my personal favorite.

Zara’s tip: If you’re anything like I was 10 years ago, you’re going to run away from the face toucher. It will feel too sweet, too vulnerable, and you just want to be a BAD bitch. You want to f*ck without feelings because feelings can be scary, and you don’t trust anyone who is NICE.

I get it. But don’t run away from the face toucher. The face toucher will introduce you to a new kind of sex: sex with feels. And sex with feels is really good! Even though, I know, “GAH, EMOTIONS. SCARY. RUN. SCREAM. HIDE,” don’t listen to that fearful voice.

Give in, girl. It feels good; I promise.

The “bad taste” kisser

One time, I met the coolest, baddest babe ever. She took me to the trendiest restaurant in all of Los Angeles and looked like a total boss in all-black leather and black liner. I was a smitten 23-year-old kitten.

After a dinner defined by sexual tension and emotional buildup, we locked lips right in front of three drag queens on Hollywood Blvd. She was a great kisser. Our tongues JIVED.

Except. She. Tasted. BAD.

And I kept going, because I wanted this one to work out so bad. I fought through it. I went home with her on the first date because I’m a hopeless romantic.

I hoped that maybe our SEX would be SO amazing I would get used to her taste being off. HOW WRONG I WAS.

She had good rhythm, was the perfect tease, a well-versed lover. But she didn’t smell right. She didn’t taste right. Something was just off, and I couldn’t get off because of it.

If someone doesn’t taste right to you, don’t go home with him or her. I believe in my heart of hearts that it’s your body’s way of telling you this person isn’t healthy for you in the long run.

The body understands things way before the brain does. I mean, maybe she was a serial killer or something. Maybe she would have cheated on me and left me shattered. Maybe she was just a well-disguised loon.

I believe if she doesn’t taste or smell RIGHT, she’s not right for you.

The “perfect” kisser

Oh, the perfect kiss. You know the perfect, seamless, in-rhythm, gorgeous, sensual, just, well, PERFECT kiss. The kind of kiss that makes you believe god is real. The kind of kiss that makes you believe in magic. The kind of kiss that tells a story.

You must, must, must sleep with the person who kisses you perfectly (though you can hold out for a while because this person is probably insanely special). He or she will make love to you perfectly.

Kisses are rich with healing power and loaded with meaning. If someone knows how to kiss you, he or she understands the core of you.

And the SEX, well, the sex will be like a kiss caught on fire. It will burn all night long, and don’t we have sex to feel those hot, fiery flames of desire?

By Zara Barrie
Source – elitedaily.com