November Meme: Day 16 - Your First Kiss
Nov. 16th, 2010 08:53 amDay 16 - My First Kiss
My first kiss was also my first love. At fifteen years old, I felt as though I was the only girl in my class who hadn't been kissed. Even my father made a mocking comment about being "Almost-sixteen and never been kissed." It was mid-October 1996 when I started really dating Dark-Haired Boy. We'd shared a couple of pecks on the lips and cheeks, but I still hadn't had my French kiss.
One weekend afternoon we were at his house watching movies and sitting on the couch. Well, being 15 and 17, we snuggled and started to kiss. He was very aware that I'd never been kissed before, that I was nervous as hell, and that I feared being really bad at it. Thankfully, Dark-Haired Boy took it slow and before I knew it, I had my first real kiss.
And I hated it.
Yes, me of all people hated her first kiss. In fact, I was pretty much convinced that I was never ever, ever, ever going to do that again. It wasn't that he was a bad kisser -- far from it. Sure, I've had better since, but he totally wasn't bad at it, and not that I knew any better being a kissing virgin and all. It was simply that I wasn't accustomed to having someone else's tongue in my mouth and, well, I'd built up this idea of what a kiss should be like in my head, and as usual real life wasn't quite like the fantasy. About the only good thing I can say about it is that at least it wasn't as disasterous as my first attempt at sex.
Three weeks later, when he was dropping me off at home, I turned the tables, took charge, and kissed him. For some reason, I really enjoyed it then and I learned just how intimate a kiss could feel. Needless to say, I changed my mind about kissing and to this day I find I still enjoy making out quite a bit.
( The Meme )
My first kiss was also my first love. At fifteen years old, I felt as though I was the only girl in my class who hadn't been kissed. Even my father made a mocking comment about being "Almost-sixteen and never been kissed." It was mid-October 1996 when I started really dating Dark-Haired Boy. We'd shared a couple of pecks on the lips and cheeks, but I still hadn't had my French kiss.
One weekend afternoon we were at his house watching movies and sitting on the couch. Well, being 15 and 17, we snuggled and started to kiss. He was very aware that I'd never been kissed before, that I was nervous as hell, and that I feared being really bad at it. Thankfully, Dark-Haired Boy took it slow and before I knew it, I had my first real kiss.
And I hated it.
Yes, me of all people hated her first kiss. In fact, I was pretty much convinced that I was never ever, ever, ever going to do that again. It wasn't that he was a bad kisser -- far from it. Sure, I've had better since, but he totally wasn't bad at it, and not that I knew any better being a kissing virgin and all. It was simply that I wasn't accustomed to having someone else's tongue in my mouth and, well, I'd built up this idea of what a kiss should be like in my head, and as usual real life wasn't quite like the fantasy. About the only good thing I can say about it is that at least it wasn't as disasterous as my first attempt at sex.
Three weeks later, when he was dropping me off at home, I turned the tables, took charge, and kissed him. For some reason, I really enjoyed it then and I learned just how intimate a kiss could feel. Needless to say, I changed my mind about kissing and to this day I find I still enjoy making out quite a bit.
( The Meme )