How women want to be kissed

How women want to be kissed - Kisses are more than a meeting of the lips. When done well, they’re a form of communication, a surefire way to tell a woman “I want you” and “I love you.” When done badly, kisses can be... well, the kiss of death for a new relationship. So, forgive us for asking, but how do your kisses rate? You’ve probably been smooching for so many years that you take your skills for granted. Stop for a moment and think about it, though: Are you really good at it? Could your repertoire use some refreshing? 

To help any man become an even better kisser, we went on a fact-finding mission. Below, nine women reveal what makes them go weak at the knees. (Is some of this information contradictory? Well, yes; what can I say? One woman’s thrill is another woman’s turn-off. Love is like that sometimes.) Now go ahead and read their stories, and then put these insider insights to work for you. 

Put some passion in it

“We want to be kissed slowly, constantly, and passionately, all over... like you really mean it! We want to be kissed long, slow, deep and hard — all at once.”
– Cynthia Garrett, actress/television host and “Hip Girl” blogger 

Inch on over and make that move... slowly

“Never ask a woman if you can kiss her. If you really can’t read the signs, you are better off not even trying. What does work? Getting closer and closer without touching builds tension, and that leads to the ultimate lip-lock.” 
– Amy Sacco, owner of NYC clubs Bungalow 8 and Lot 61 

Watch out for the nose!

“A deep, hot kiss for me means mouth on mouth, the perfect alignment of noses, and a hand inching up to hold the back of my neck.”
– Elizabeth Lippman, photographer 

Try a kissing bandit technique

“A kiss doesn’t have to be face-to-face to be breathtaking. When my husband and I first started dating, I was standing at a bar ordering a drink when he came up behind me, put his arms around my waist and kissed the side of my neck, right under my ear. It literally sent shivers down my spine. I remember thinking: ‘Wow! I hope this relationship lasts!’”
– Kimberly Lewis, magazine editor 

Always be a gentleman

“A man needs to have the right amount of confidence and gentleness to deliver a good kiss. Being over-confident is a big turn-off for me. I hate when a guy is so full of himself that he goes in for the kiss when you haven’t given him a single signal yet to do so. Yuck!”
– Danna Weiss, fashion expert and founder, consciousjewelry.com 

Put your fingers in her hair

“I like to have my hair stroked while kissing or having him pull my head closer. Men taking control is a total turn-on.” 
– Melissa de la Cruz, best-selling author of the Blue Bloods series 

Don’t underestimate the power of eye contact

“I love it when a guy stops kissing me for a moment, places his hand on my face, and then just stares at me like he could devour me before going in for another kiss — that is just heaven.”
– Carmindy, author and makeup artist/beauty expert for TLC’s What Not To Wear 

Pull off the perfect PDA

“An intense kiss when you’re not expecting it is so sexy. I was on a date with my now-husband and we were walking down the street, when out of nowhere, he pressed his body up against mine and began making out with me passionately. He didn’t care who walked by or if anyone screamed, ‘Get a room!’ That was a while ago, and I still think about it all the time.”
– Alexis Karl, painter and creator of the cherry bomb killer perfume line 

Deliver the sweetest series of smooches

“After a make-out session, end it with a hint of sweetness... like a tiny peck on each cheek, then the tip of the nose, and then the forehead. That mix of naughty and nice sends chills up my spine. Yum.”
– Alexandra Bellak, real estate agent ( yahoo.match.com )

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Don't Dim Your Light for Your Man

Don't Dim Your Light for Your Man - Don't play conservative, if you're not! Don't play anything -- be yourself!

If you're Christian, you grew up singing that song in church, "This little light of mine, I'm going to let it shine. Let it shine. Let it shine." My heart melts when I see the toddlers sing that today at my church. Such a simple song with a huge meaning -- God/the Universe has given you a light to shine and therefore you should let it.

I love to watch children play, specifically my Godchildren, Jayden and Elliot. They are discovering the world -- one leaf, one spider, and one ice cream cone at a time. It is wonderful to see them attack life with such a brilliant and pure light.

It is the main reason why I hate to see some parents and adults do things to dim that light by forgetting kids are kids and not adults. I think the worst thing you can do to a child is dim the natural light that shines within her. It is equally disheartening for me to see adults dim their own lights, especially for someone else.

One of my sister-friends, who I'm not that close with, but have known for years, has always been a vibrant person. She's the type of woman who wears those outfits that borderline outrageous, but work for her because she has that type of personality. I have always admired her zeal for life and her indifference to what other people think. She did her thing no matter what!

It was her enigmatic personality that always made everyone want to be around her. She was definitely someone you wanted on the list at your party, as you could count on her to do something ridiculously fun. We all loved her just the way she was.

I hadn't seen her in a couple of years and we both ended up at a mutual friend's birthday party. Turns out, she had gotten married and had a baby. I was so happy for her and wanted to know everything about her husband and her new life. I offered to grab us some cocktails so we could sip while we caught up. She said she no longer drank alcohol. It was a shocker to me because she could drink a linebacker under the table. But, I do understand people evolve and didn't think much of it.

When I returned with my gimlet in hand and her Sprite, we sat down to shoot the breeze. As she told me about her day-to-day life, I felt like I was talking to a complete stranger. This couldn't be the wild and crazy girl that I'd known for years. Instead, some demure Stepford Wife had invaded her body. Then, I noticed how she was dressed; floral print dress, two-inch pumps and pearls. Wow!

As she continued about her life, I felt like I was in an episode of Charlie Brown, because all I heard was "womp, womp, womp!" I was stunned! Don't get me wrong; I know people do change. But, this was like Snooki becoming Mother Theresa; people don't change that much! More importantly, I was getting bored. The interesting, hip, life on the edge girl I knew was clearly gone and I was counting the moments when I could break away from her.

Then, I said it! I was probably out of line, but I had to do it. I asked, "So, what gives? You're a completely different person than what I remember you to be." At first, she was taken aback by the question. Then, she paused for a moment and saw an opportunity to talk. She told me that her husband was really conservative -- a Republican -- and how over the course of their relationship he'd made "suggestions" on how she should conduct herself. He had intentions of running for office.

I could tell she was unhappy with this change, but she clearly loved her husband and child. My question was, "Who did he think he was marrying?" Her response, "He says he saw my potential past all of the other stuff." I was heated! All that "other stuff" was what made her special; it was her light.

Of course, I went on to encourage her to let her light shine. Otherwise, she was going to be miserable for the rest of her life. I asked, "Do you even like pearls?" She gave me that smile that reads, "Hell no!" My goal was not to interfere in her relationship because she had clearly made some choices. I did, however, want to encourage her to seek a way that she could be more of herself and let her true light shine.

I don't know what happened with my sister-friend after that birthday party. I haven't seen her since. I pray that she is becoming more secure in who she really is at the core and allowing herself space to be that person within the confines of her marriage. Not only is she doing her self a disservice, her husband is missing out on a truly awesome woman.

I see so many women dim their lights for men and nothing upsets me more. Don't play dumb! Don't play conservative, if you're not! Don't play anything -- be yourself! If a man is looking for you to mute your music, then he's not the man for you. You can only be someone else for so long before your true self comes out. And, it's usually too late then. So, it's best for you to stay true to the light God gave you and let it shine! ( msn.com )

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Should Your Boyfriend Be Your Best Friend?

Should Your Boyfriend Be Your Best Friend? - On my very first date with my boyfriend, I didn’t know if he was going to kiss me. I didn’t know yet that he loves Concord grapes, plays the saxophone and has never seen a Woody Allen movie. But I did know for certain that I wanted this person with whom I’d just eaten dinner to be in my life, somehow. I remember sitting across from him at a table in a Portuguese restaurant, smiling, and thinking, “Whatever happens after this date, I really hope we become friends. You’re cool.”

Flash forward six intense, crazy-in-love months and this man is not only boyfriend—he is my closest friend now, too, the one who knows everything about what goes on with my family, what goes on at work, what weird dreams woke me up in the middle of the night.

And I’m not entirely sure that’s a good thing.

He is my boyfriend, he’s my best friend, but he’s also filling a vacancy that slowly opened up in my life recently. You see, I don’t have a lot of friends. No, I’m not a complete nutter who can’t keep any friends, I swear. It’s just that, in the past two years, all my closest friends have scattered, literally, around the world:

Christiane was born in Germany and moved back there to be closer to her family; Stephanie joined the Army and right now is stationed in Iraq (at a prison, of all places); and Phil and Andrew are both in grad school in Boston, and it turns out people don’t have much of a social life while they’re attending Harvard Law School. Last, but not least, there was my best guy friend, who I had a pretty major falling-out with last year (it was tangentially related to this story), and I’ve scarcely seen that guy since.

I do keep in touch with my international buddies as best we can. But what sucks is that, back here in New York where we all used to live together, I can’t just make off-the-cuff plans anymore or instantly share stuff that’s going on in my life. I miss being able to do that more than I can say; loneliness is a heavy feeling. It sounds depressing, but there is not a single person under the “Favorites” list on my iPhone whom I could call and grab sushi with after work.

Except my boyfriend, that is.

Don’t misunderstand me about what my relationship is; it’s amazing, he’s amazing, and I don’t want to sound as if I am ungrateful that he’s my best friend, too. I’m glad my relationship is rooted in a friendship as opposed to, say, lust or greed or any of the other emotions that compel two individuals to pair up. But to paraphrase Belle’s boyfriend on “Secret Diary of a Call Girl,” my boyfriend is a friend to whom I want to do things I don’t want to do to my other friends. And that’s where the mental compartmentalization comes in. It has occurred to me that if my boyfriend were to be (God forbid) hit by a Walmart 18-wheeler, I would be isolated. I would be truly alone then and that’s just not sensible for my own well-being. A boyfriend shouldn’t be everything to me, right? What lovers have together isn’t the same thing as what friends have together and I don’t want any obfuscation.

Besides, it’s not fair to him to be inundated with all my stuff. Being someone’s one and only doesn’t mean he should be the one and only person you talk to about your personal life. He, after all, has three very close friends in addition to me with whom he can talk about stuff. Does any one friend really want to hear about every single perceived slight that occurs at work, or every snotty comment from your sister, or every pair of boots you just have to have? I sure wouldn’t, if I were someone’s one and only close friend. I know it’s a disingenuous reason to look for some more friends, but I partially need to widen my social circle so I don’t suffocate the poor guy. (Try as he might, he’s just not as interested in Anthropologie shopping sprees as I am.)

I am trying to make an effort to befriend new people; I’m just a little shy, so it’s hard to be aggressive. But, hey, someone needs to get a manicure and see “New Moon” with me and it’s not going to be my boyfriend. ( thefrisky.com )

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Where all the good guys are

Where all the good guys are -- Women always seem to ask me where all the good men are, as if these near-mythical dudes are hiding behind bushes, chained up in some vampire's basement, or are just rare and elusive, like the snow leopard.

Normally, I have to resist responding, "Maybe the good guys are just avoiding you."

But the answer to this frequent, lovelorn lament is simple: The good men are right under your nose.

And that's the damn truth. That's right, ladies. The good men you pine for are right there, all up in your grill, listening to your bellyaching, patiently enduring your inability to manage your own flamboyant, capricious romantic expectations and dreary reality.

These good guys are co-workers, classmates, and, most importantly, friends. You officially have my permission as a relationship expert with a Ph.D. in Broken Hearts from the University of Feelings, Emoburg campus, to fall in love with your male friends.

I blame your gender, after all, for inventing what The Frisky site refers to as "The Friend Zone." It's not a "zone." One loses weight in a "zone," or tells time there. Or learns a dark lesson about human nature during a twist ending.

No. "The Friend Zone" is actually a gulag. The Bermuda Triangle. A cruel little exile. Right now, there is a man in your life who feels you in his teeth, but who walks around with an "F" for "Friend" seared onto his forehead by a glowing-red iron you keep perpetually cooking in the furnace of your heart. You cannot think of him "that way."

At what point did he go from potential dating material to platonic bestie? Possibly the moment he started remembering your favorite alcoholic drink, instant messaging you about "Mad Men," and listening to you drone on about your thighs, again. Because love is intently listening to someone repeat themselves.

This dude adores you and you are denying yourself potential joy because of some imaginary rule. The heart is a frontier full of peril and plunder, and you should not be afraid to explore what lies beyond hastily built fences.
I'm not saying men and women can't be friends. We totally can. I won't confirm the famous lesson from "When Harry Met Sally," which remains smug Baby Boomer treacle.

I don't want to sleep with all my female friends. I've thought about it, but I don't think that's gender-specific. Just human curiosity.

So do it! Hook up with your dude friend. Life is too short to be afraid of ruining a friendship, especially if there's a chance you could be more to one another, like epically cosmic lovers worthy of your own constellation in the night sky.

Friendships are as fluid as romances; they can end as suddenly as they can begin. In many ways, they're overrated. You know what's not overrated? Love. It's awesome.
We're talking about the meaning of life here. And it's to find someone whom you can grow old, fat, and ugly with. Our romantic rituals revolve around complete strangers negotiating for sex, then attempting to become friends. It's as if our society demands there's a dating you and a real you, and a relationship happens when two people agree to abandon the mutual lie. Cut to the chase. Friends already know how to play, laugh, and forgive each other.

Two of my longest relationships were with women whom I had been friends with. I loved them both, initially from afar. In both instances, we stepped off a cliff together without looking like the Fool in most tarot card decks. We took a risk, molted out of our friendship, and transformed into something else. And there was that moment of recognition, where we both said "screw it," took a risk, and realized that you can't win big if you don't gamble big. And a shot at conjugal and emotional bliss is quite a prize.

The first time, we were in the middle of a "Friends" marathon, and we took a break so she could shower. She came back with wet hair, and I had never seen her without make-up and when she plopped onto the couch, I kissed her. We both freaked out:

She stormed into the kitchen; I paced in a circle. Then we decided to make out some more. It helped. The second was a friend who proved to me she was no princess at a party by shot-gunning a can of beer. I immediately told her that I was falling for her, and she told me to wear a helmet. She kissed me, our quiet garden of a friendship suddenly a wildfire.

I wouldn't say I'm friends with these women; we broke up for the reasons people break up -- changing priorities, the mean little pianos life drops on your head. Maybe we would have drifted apart regardless. We're not friends now, but I don't regret giving it a shot. Kisses are the only things you can steal and never have to give back. And at least I'll have those until the day I croak. ( thefrisky.com )

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Earl of Cardigan speaks of marriage to woman he met in therapy

Earl of Cardigan speaks of marriage to woman he met in therapy - The Earl of Cardigan has spoken for the first time of how he met his new wife at an American therapy clinic, and that her son believed she was about to become an accountant, not a countess.

The Earl of Cardigan has spoken for the first time about his marriage to a woman he met at an American therapy clinic.

Lord Cardigan, 58, admitted the couple’s courtship had been “pretty strange” because he was being treated for his “despair” after the collapse of his first marriage.

His new bride, Joanne Hill, 46, was at the Trauma Resolution clinic in Santa Fe, New Mexico, trying to kick an addiction to prescription pills.

Lord Cardigan said he had decided to speak out partly to correct what suggestions that the new Lady Cardigan had left her husband for him, which he described as “rubbish”.

The old Etonian went to the clinic to help him get over the sudden ending of his marriage to Rosamond, the author of a number of cookbooks.

The then Mrs Hill was being treated for addiction to Xanax, an anti-anxiety drug, which she had been prescribed after being sexually assaulted at knifepoint while walking back to her car in Phoenix, Arizona.

David Cardigan, 58, married American Joanne Hill at the beginning of May in a private ceremony in the romantic mediaeval hilltop village of San Miniato, near Pisa in Italy

“I suppose the circumstances of our meeting were pretty strange, because Joanne and I were in therapy,” Lord Cardigan said.

“I was in deep despair and shock in 2005 because of the very sudden termination of my twenty five year marriage. Joanne was there to address the cause of her use of Xanax addiction, which was the attack she had suffered in the first place.

“We met there during very intense therapy when we were both part of the same Trauma Resolution group”.

“Our relationship really began when we went our separate ways at the end of the therapy,” said Lord Cardigan.

“I’d gone to live with my very dear sister Carina, who lives on the Caribbean island of Tortola, in the British Virgin Islands.”

He continued: “I missed Joanne hugely, and we began contacting each other, and it grew from there.”

Lord Cardigan attacked what he described as “malicious rubbish” which had been written about their relationship.

“I think it is as good a time as any to put the record straight, starting with the simple fact that Joanne and her husband had already both filed against each other for divorce before she and I ever even met”.

“Actually we first met in a room where the most personal of things had to be openly discussed, and we had to go through the story of our lives examining the good, the bad and the ugly.

“There were no secrets in there, and to that extent we knew some very deep and very personal stuff about each other before our relationship even started, and like everyone else in that group we implicitly trusted each other with all that.”

The couple married at the beginning of May at a private ceremony at San Miniato, a hilltop village near Pisa and have set up home at Lord Cardigan’s estate in Savernake Forest, near Marlborough, Wiltshire.

Lord Cardigan has two children from his previous marriage, Thomas, Viscount Savernake and Lady Catherine, who is better known as Bo Bruce, a singer songwriter, from whom he is estranged.

The new countess has a 13-year-old son, Wolfy.

Lady Cardigan said her first impressions of the man who became her husband was of an stereotypical Briton.

“When I first met David in group therapy I thought he was an archetypal Englishman. Very up-tight and proper, and initially very unwilling to open up, which of course is what Group Therapy is all about.

“But we learned the worst about each other first, and since then I have come to love him for the warm, sensitive man that he is.”

Lord Cardigan said the couple who, having “put the record straight”, were looking forward to starting life together in Wiltshire.

“My heartfelt wish now is to be reconciled with my two children. I've missed them both enormously”. ( telegraph.co.uk )

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