first kiss? whoops
we were young. him 11 and me 12, a sunny april day that we were spending inside watching a movie (La La Land. the end made him cry. i love that kid). Mia and Seb, on screen, finally kissed.
my boy, ever the quick-thinker, offered a kiss and i accepted, just a quick peck, and i spent the next twenty minutes staring at the floor and trying to compute that i had just been kissed. like for real. it was too much for my hopeless romantic brain to handle. i had been hyping that moment up for years and it happened on the couch in my den.
couple months later, he tells me he's gay. after taking a month to get over the rejection, it's been almost four years and he is now my best friend. i'm going to his house tonight to eat dinner with his parents and sister.
First Kiss? Maybe not.
Okay so- I was like 5- Pfft- This already sounds so weird. I was around the age of five, maybe four. We had just moved into a new house and I was hidding under our out door table, not wanting to eat my lunch. Why? Fuck if I remember, I was five- Anywyas, someone comes out of the house next to us, which was like, not even ten feet away from ours.
It's a woman and a few of her kids follow her, two boys and a daughter. They said they saw us outside and wanted to greet us. So, me being a social butterfly back then, slither my way out from under the table and run up to them, excited.
So then a few hours later (because that's all I fucking remember) the girl and I are sitting in my room, my old ass T.V playing some old T.V show or something. I dunno, but we were super into it.
So, the people on the screen kiss and it was like, all dramatic and shit. I turned to her and said something along the lines of, "Do you ever think we'll do something like that?"
"I dunno... We could do it right now!" Was what she responded with.
So yeah, we technically made out for like the next ten minutes, trying to "get it right." We were like, five, we didn't know what the fuck we were doing, but it was probably one of the first signs that I was gay. Fuck if I know.
About like a year later she moved to Indiana, which is like, a state away from me. I was sad for a while. She was kinda my first female friend. But hey, if it turns out she's gay, at least I know why.
The One To Remember
I had waited all night.
She was so lovely in the moonlight.
She held her head, as if in pain.
I brushed aside her hair, "What's wrong?"
She gives a weak smile, "Headache. It must be my... um..."
She blushes.
My heart skips a beat.
Her eyes so lovely in the full moon.
"Your what?"
"You know my... almost my time of the month."
She hides her face in embarrassment.
I laugh and take away her hands.
"You're a woman. A beautiful woman."
She leans into my chest.
I stroke her thick, luscious hair.
"I know what will take away the pain."
She looks up to me.
Our faces are so close.
I lean down.
Her lips are close to mine.
The moon is in her eyes.
Her yellow eyes.
Her sharpening teeth.
Her fur-sprouting skin.
Her jaws widen and snap down on mine.
The blood...
So much blood...
She rips and tears
howling to the moon.
Two very different first kisses
The credits rolled, the room empied, neither of us moved, we wanted to be alone.
Tucked under your arm, you asked If I wanted to kiss you. No one had ever asked me that before.
You waited in silence, understanding that I took time over my words, that I always took too much time to collect my words.
You let me bury me head in your chest, just holding me tight, saying nothing; how did you know to say nothing.
I lifted my chin, you thought I had words on my lips; instead, I kissed you softly.
You pulled back; to check if this was ok, asked me if it was really what I wanted.
When I nodded, you stroked my hair behind my ear and kissed me back, just as gentle.
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The moon shone through the window as the bell for last orders rangout.
The door closed, the wind whipped, the starlight fell. Our alcohol jackets held us up.
We swayed in silence as we started the long journey home.
The drink, as always, had given me confidance, but this time also buried my memeories, foucesed in on the here and now, on what the body needs.
I took your arm to hold your hand, a need for closness.
You took my chin and pulled me in, a need for sex.
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Two very different first kisses...
both to close in my own time line for comfort.
My First Kiss
From what I can remember, my first kiss would of been kissing my mom and dad, but if you mean my first romantic kiss, then I think I was 5 years old. My brothers friend (who was a year older than me) was over and I went up to him, stuck my mouth on him and somehow bit his tongue, because I was trying to french kiss him! I thought biting the tongue was a way to show love. He screamed like a girl and then I laughed and learned french kissing doesn't mean biting down on a tongue. Where I learned about french kissing from...who knows. It was the 90s, probably from watching some Adam Sandler or Jim Carrey comedy.
I was probably fifteen.
I was probably fiffteen, a little stupid, and a little more than lovestruck. I had a crush on this boy, who had become somewhat of my bestfriend. It wasn't to be though, as he had a partner already. We'd still flirt and hang out all the time, and yeah, maybe he'd lead me on a bit, but I kind of liked it.
I think it was Halloween night. Myself, him, and two of our other friends were all in his basement passing around a sole hard cidar (as you do at fifteen) and one of those flavored vapor pens that have a set amont of puffs. We thought we were so cool. We had been messing around the whole evening and were piled around some beanbag chairs.
I'm not sure how it came up, but I said I'd never had my first kiss before.
He said, "Wait - you haven't?"
I shook my head.
He leaned across the beanbag between us and said, "Come here."
I leaned over, we kissed, and... that's it.
My face turned beat red and he was smiling, but that's... it. For the next five years I endured the worst possible, toxic, rubber-band relationship with him. On and off, lies and half-truths, it was horrible.
I'm twenty-two now, but... I won't forget my first kiss. I'll forget about him someday, hopefully, but I loved my first kiss.
Would she be able to resist?
He was sitting on his bed,
looking at her
with these big ocean eyes.
The sun started setting,
it was time to say their goodbyes.
So she sat down on his lap
and kissed him softly on his lips.
She could feel his fingertips
tingling on her skin,
he pulled her face closer,
he pulled her back in.
He started kissing her
passionately,
and at that moment
she felt closer to him
than she had ever been.
Their last kiss felt like a first kiss.
If they were ever to meet again,
would she think about everything
she had missed?
Would she kiss his lips
or would she be able to resist?