My mind begins to wander...The French man: He's attracted to me and I am attracted to him. His smile is contagious. He smiles, I smile. We've completed 3 months of courtship dating...the French way. A few dates for coffee and conversation. A few dates for breakfast, a few more for lunch, and now after a rendezvous for the fourth or fifth dinner date, here we are, the evening is ending.
Face to face, he smells good, his arms are strong. He slowly places one hand at the small of my back the other softly caressing the back of my neck. He tells me with his eyes, it's time to kiss on the lips and not cheek to cheek. He moves in closer and starts a soft kiss at the far corner of my closed lips, gently moving his tongue over my closed lips that don't speak French Kiss. Up and down he slowly traces across my lips to the other corner of my mouth with his tongue, softly kissing as he goes along.
"Nice, Soft, Interesting." I think, still not parting my lips.
He seems to taste and kiss every part of my lips from one side to the next, with his tongue moving slow and gentle up and down.
My knees are weak and ready to collapse, just as he pulls me closer with his one hand at the small of my back supporting me.
I want to pull away from his lips softly touching and caressing my lips, but his other hand behind my neck slowly moves behind my head to press us closer as I resist. If he were making love with his lips, this would be some sort of foreplay.
I relax into his gentle kiss, my head resting in the palm of his hand and in that moment, as if he were waiting for the right moment, he softly thrusts his tongue into my mouth. If he were making love, this would be 'it".
A French man kisses like he's making love. Soft, gentle and slowly at first, followed by an explosion of passion.
"No. I've never been kissed by a French man." I reply to my friend when I first arrived in Paris, with a sigh.
"Oh my gosh. It's like nothing you've ever experienced!" She warned me.
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