Thursday
May102007
Sitting in a tree
Thursday, May 10, 2007 at 10:50AM
Inspired by Chase's recent post at Taste the World, and perfectly in theme with these recent posts of my own, and mostly because I have nothing else interesting to blather on about, I've decided to share the story of my first kiss. And incidentally my second and third as well.
Technically my first kiss was when I was less than 10 years old (8? 6?), staying at a cottage with my family for a week in the summer. His name was Mark, he was fun to play with, and somehow at some point he kissed me and it was so unexciting that I hardly remember the details. So on the to the real first kiss I quickly move.
Wait before I even get to that, in order to demonstrate how much of a pansy I've always been regarding the kissing, I must quickly tell the story of my first missed kiss. My first official boyfriend ever was during my freshman year of high school. It was as pathetic as you can imagine, lasting barely a month, and the whole time I was paralyzed with fear of when he might try to kiss me. Not paralyzed actually, more like very active in strategically avoiding all potential kiss situations. The whole month went by and I managed to dodge any possible attempt he may have been contemplating to kiss me. I'm that good.
Boyfriend Number 2 came later that year. Sort of the same situation going on with him---I was so scared I'd mess up the whole kissing thing that rather than just get it over with, I evaded it like a master. But eventually my friends caught on, and so they began to plot. We used to hang out at one friend's house quite a bit and had plans to do so again on a certain Friday night. Boys were invited too, which meant Boyfriend Number 2 would be there, and my friends decided this was the perfect time to orchestrate my first kiss. They let me in on their plan, and I'm pretty sure they also alerted Boyfriend Number 2 as to what was going to happen.
So there I was, hanging out with my friends and my boyfriend on a Friday night, practically puking all over myself with dread. Kissing? We're supposed to kiss tonight? I, the master of evasion, considered all possible options for escape, but magically hours were converted to minutes and suddenly it was time for Boyfriend Number 2 to leave. Everyone was milling about the kitchen, Boyfriend Number 2 was trying to say goodbye to me, and I was using every ounce of energy I had to ignore him. Meanwhile my friends were being very subtle, as 14 year olds often are, in reminding me that tonight was the night, just do it already. No thank you, I thought to myself, as I turned to offer a final farewell smile to the Boyfriend. Bam! He kissed me, said goodbye and was out the door. I have very little recollection of what the kiss was like, but I do remember immediately laying down on the kitchen floor to process what just happened. At 14, post-kiss floor contemplation is a necessity.
Despite having the first kiss finally over, I persisted to avoid all future kiss opportunities with Boyfriend Number 2. I'm not kidding, more than once I pretended to be asleep when he left my friend's house. Finally after going out one night, he walked me to my door to say good night. I distracted him with talking for as long as possible, but eventually he came at me. And this time the kiss was... airy. I remember distinctly. There was no *smack* at the end. Just an airy sound. That's not right, I thought, but instead of making him try again, I turned to go inside and slammed right into the locked door. Three hundred shades of red in 0.3 seconds. We didn't last much longer than that.
There's one more reason that I didn't get a decent kiss for another couple years. A year after the airy kiss, I started seeing another guy. We had a lot of fun together for a few months, but things were unclear and we were both unbelievably unwilling to make the first move. That is until one day his face attacked me in the driveway. I'm talking tongue down my throat, saliva on my chin, and his mouth engulfing my face.
Is it any wonder I waited a couple years before letting another guy's mouth near mine? Fortunately I eventually got the hang of things, and so did several of the guys I encountered, thank God. I made up for lost time just fine. But man, the kissing. Such drama.
Technically my first kiss was when I was less than 10 years old (8? 6?), staying at a cottage with my family for a week in the summer. His name was Mark, he was fun to play with, and somehow at some point he kissed me and it was so unexciting that I hardly remember the details. So on the to the real first kiss I quickly move.
Wait before I even get to that, in order to demonstrate how much of a pansy I've always been regarding the kissing, I must quickly tell the story of my first missed kiss. My first official boyfriend ever was during my freshman year of high school. It was as pathetic as you can imagine, lasting barely a month, and the whole time I was paralyzed with fear of when he might try to kiss me. Not paralyzed actually, more like very active in strategically avoiding all potential kiss situations. The whole month went by and I managed to dodge any possible attempt he may have been contemplating to kiss me. I'm that good.
Boyfriend Number 2 came later that year. Sort of the same situation going on with him---I was so scared I'd mess up the whole kissing thing that rather than just get it over with, I evaded it like a master. But eventually my friends caught on, and so they began to plot. We used to hang out at one friend's house quite a bit and had plans to do so again on a certain Friday night. Boys were invited too, which meant Boyfriend Number 2 would be there, and my friends decided this was the perfect time to orchestrate my first kiss. They let me in on their plan, and I'm pretty sure they also alerted Boyfriend Number 2 as to what was going to happen.
So there I was, hanging out with my friends and my boyfriend on a Friday night, practically puking all over myself with dread. Kissing? We're supposed to kiss tonight? I, the master of evasion, considered all possible options for escape, but magically hours were converted to minutes and suddenly it was time for Boyfriend Number 2 to leave. Everyone was milling about the kitchen, Boyfriend Number 2 was trying to say goodbye to me, and I was using every ounce of energy I had to ignore him. Meanwhile my friends were being very subtle, as 14 year olds often are, in reminding me that tonight was the night, just do it already. No thank you, I thought to myself, as I turned to offer a final farewell smile to the Boyfriend. Bam! He kissed me, said goodbye and was out the door. I have very little recollection of what the kiss was like, but I do remember immediately laying down on the kitchen floor to process what just happened. At 14, post-kiss floor contemplation is a necessity.
Despite having the first kiss finally over, I persisted to avoid all future kiss opportunities with Boyfriend Number 2. I'm not kidding, more than once I pretended to be asleep when he left my friend's house. Finally after going out one night, he walked me to my door to say good night. I distracted him with talking for as long as possible, but eventually he came at me. And this time the kiss was... airy. I remember distinctly. There was no *smack* at the end. Just an airy sound. That's not right, I thought, but instead of making him try again, I turned to go inside and slammed right into the locked door. Three hundred shades of red in 0.3 seconds. We didn't last much longer than that.
There's one more reason that I didn't get a decent kiss for another couple years. A year after the airy kiss, I started seeing another guy. We had a lot of fun together for a few months, but things were unclear and we were both unbelievably unwilling to make the first move. That is until one day his face attacked me in the driveway. I'm talking tongue down my throat, saliva on my chin, and his mouth engulfing my face.
Is it any wonder I waited a couple years before letting another guy's mouth near mine? Fortunately I eventually got the hang of things, and so did several of the guys I encountered, thank God. I made up for lost time just fine. But man, the kissing. Such drama.
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Reader Comments (7)
This post cracked me up. I had a much more eventful times in kissing. I'll have to post about my own experiences someday. But anyway, not only my first under ten kiss was so hilarious, as well as my second... and they were twins who both were told they were my first kiss. To this day, they don't know who was first. I'll never tell. Then my first real kiss, and my first official kiss (totally different trust me) were great... especially my first official kiss; which as far as first kisses go probably ranks up there. I guess you could say I nailed it at first try. haha! What do they say, it's always the quiet ones.
"Post-kiss floor contemplation"... nice. I distinctly remember downing a Grape Shasta immediately following first french kiss in order to get the nasty feeling of probing wet tongue out of my mouth. First kisses are definitely not like the movies.
hee hee ... i remember post kiss floor contemplation ... my first kiss was pretty beautiful actually as beautiful as a first kiss can be while you each juggle yourselves upright on your bikes ... but then it went downhill for a while and there was this one guy ewwww ~ tongue down throat jabbing, i had purple bruised lips afterwards, yick ...
"Boyfriend Number 2" totally sounds like he was your boyfriend-on-the-side ala John Tucker.
Such drama! Such trauma!
Gah! Face-eater kissers are SOOO horrid. You'd kinda expect that from a teen boy, but I dated a guy who was 30 who still kissed like that. I called him the Horse Kisser because it felt like a horse tongue in my mouth. VOMIT!
LOL. My first kiss was with my first gf in college. She was really drunk, and didn't even remember that we had made out the next day. It was really special.