Although long ago, can you remember your first kiss?

I think I was around 10 .. sitting in a wrecked car in a junkyard. Dennis said, "I'm the father going to work",
and leaned over and kissed my cheek. I ran all the way home, screaming. :ROFLMAO:

Actually, my very first kiss was apparently when I was 3 .. same scenario - playing in the car, Alexander was
the Daddy going to work. I didn't run away screaming that time.
 

Although long ago, can you remember your first kiss?​


Yeah, wrote about it

Same subject keeps coming up
I keep posting the same story

Story time;

Gurls

My first real girlfriend, other than dancer number three from the Jackie Gleason Show, was Patricia.
Fourth grade I think it was.
She had this smile, this beguiling smile, and if per chance she cast one your way, well, it turned all us guys into befuddled masses of profound stupidity.
I was no exception…and she knew it.

So every time she would come near, or I mysteriously found myself near her, I’d make sure and do something cool, like flip my fountain pen up in the air and nonchalantly catch it, writing side down.
Unknowing that I’d just sprayed myself with a unique pattern of Sheaffer traditional blue ....Boob, James Boob.

Oh, yeah, and her eyes…flashing, batting brown eyes….and some kinda smell too..better than, say, my catcher’s mitt, or even gramma’s rhubarb pie.

That’s all I remember about her looks.
Didn’t even consider the shape of her hind end, or if she even had one for that matter.

One blessed day her parents invited my parents to dinner.
I sat across the table from her, sipping my shaken not stirred fruit punch, creating a rather distinguished looking purple mustache.

These folks had lived outta the states for a few years, and rather proudly offered up their unusual cuisine.
There, on my plate, was a heaping festering mound of curry and rice. Not the spicy curry of the orient, no, this was some sorta green slimey slices of slugguts.

Patricia smiled at me.

I forked the slug slices, and moved them around my plate, mustering and encouraging my life long taste buds for fried potatoes, hamburger patties and ketchup.
I furtively went to the potatoes.
Only they were swimming in some sorta gawd awful milk sauce...not fried, definitely not fried.
I think I had two bites, feigning nausea, gladly skipping dessert which looked much like mousse of dog vomit.

Patricia invited me up to her room (HER ROOM!!!), upstairs, legs of Patricia,leading the way...huh, Patricia has legs..nice, really really nice legs (self; wimin my age have legs too. Take note.)

And there I was, in a girl’s room.

Puffy, fuzzy things.
Pink things.
Lacy, frilly things.
Some sorta awning of posts and frilly cloth over her bed.
Pillows, stuffed toys, more pillows, more toys.

So there we were.
‘Nice place ya got here’ (I almost said ‘doll face’, but somehow knew my Bogart wasn’t working any better than my Bond).

‘You are in third place on my list.’

(‘what? There’s a list?’)

‘If you kiss my locket, you’ll be at the top.’

(‘If I kiss her locket?’)
(‘what the heck is a locket?’)

She pulled a dainty gold chain from where, I’d discover years later, cleavage came from.
Her locket was a little gold heart.
I felt really really stupid.
Here I was, in a gurl’s room, with all this claustrophobic crap, and even considering kissing her locket for cryin’ out lowd.
Get me the heck outta here!

(bat, bat, smile)

S-o-o-o-o after I kissed her locket, landing me solidly into first place, we went downstairs.

Funny thing. Next day at school, I took on a much different persona.
My once pitter patting heart went back to a normal beat.
Her smile took on a more sneer like function.
Her batting eyes became nothing more than a possible Tourette.
Her smell took on the odor of curry.
Basically, she disgusted me, and less than 24 ago, I kissed her locket...damn.

My first fleeting relationship.

Not for locker room lore.
 
My first kiss was with an older woman she was 12, I was 10. She was visiting a neighbor for a week. We sat in our apple tree, snacking on sweet apples. She asked if I had kissed a girl. I said no and she offered to be my first. I puckered up and she said no that is a grandma kiss, this is how to kiss a girl. Then she asked if I knew what a French kiss was. I learned a lot that day. I have been a sucker for older women ever since. :)
 
oldaunt said:
Regardless of age, NO ONE gets to force themselves on me, EVER. If you doubt, then YOU have a problem.
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Holey moley oldy. I'm not an advocate of forced smooches, and I get that you were only 12, but your response was extreme. That said, I can remember how the 14yr-old boy-brain works, so, although it was an extreme reaction, there's a pretty good chance he needed it.
 
Gaer said:
Well, He felt it too! He asked me to marry him but I refused (4 years later). I married the wrong man.
Click to expand...
I married the wrong one the first time. It was only many years later that the Lightning Bolt and I were married.

ETA: Yanno...I think that if LB and I had married young (like when I turned 18 or so), we'd probably have ended up divorced. We both needed to grow up first!
 
Georgiagranny said:
I married the wrong one the first time. It was only many years later that the Lightning Bolt and I were married.

ETA: Yanno...I think that if LB and I had married young (like when I turned 18 or so), we'd probably have ended up divorced. We both needed to grow up first!
Click to expand...
You know? I was thinking the same thing. He was too much of a rounder.
Funny the way things work out, isn't it?
 
Murrmurr said:
Holey moley oldy. I'm not an advocate of forced smooches, and I get that you were only 12, but your response was extreme. That said, I can remember how the 14yr-old boy-brain works, so, although it was an extreme reaction, there's a pretty good chance he needed it.
Click to expand...
I don't consider it extreme at all, and I bet many women would agree. I would do the same today.
 
Freddie. On the playground. He walked over and gave me a present. I remember the present better than the kiss on the cheek. The present was a thin black velvet cord with styrofoam balls on each end. Each ball was covered with different colored sequins that sparkled in the sunshine. Maybe it was a belt to tie or tied to hang like a necklace? They were stuck on there with pins through the center of each sequin. I held onto it for years but never knew what to do with it. But it was pretty to look at and he was a very sweet boy.
 

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