Okay, here's my story.
I was 17 when it happened. (Don't feel bad, you late bloomers out there, there's plenty of time to make up for the missed nookie -- I speak from experience :wink: )
So I had spent the evening with this boy who had asked me out. (We had "dated" sophomore year...if you can call it that...and my bad-tempered father managed to scare the poor boy away, or at least that's what I suspected. Anyway, he asked me out again senior year.) I had gone to his house to watch a rented movie. We had the downstairs to ourselves. He was very nervous. He kept asking me if I wanted anything to drink. Every time he'd get up to refill his glass or my glass he'd come back and sit down on the couch a little bit closer to me. The movie we were watching made me get a little teary eyed so he patted my hand and told me not to cry. After the patting of the hand, he didn't let go and that was how he started holding my hand.
Note: I do not like hand holding. I didn't like it then and I still don't like it now. It's a little too personal for me.
I wondered if he was ever going to make a move. He didn't. I was disappointed. He drove me home. We were in his car, in my driveway, and we were going to say good-bye to one another. We were still doing the hug good-bye at that point, and I went to give him a hug. But he went for a kiss and it was awkward and I was super uncomfortable because I could have sworn I saw my mother peek out the front door curtain at the vehicle when we first pulled into the driveway. I did not want to get my first kiss in front of my mother! Ick. So he went to kiss me while I tried to hug him, and I had to turn my face to make him abort the kiss. It ended up being like a kiss to the side of my mouth.
I don't usually count that as my first kiss just because it didn't feel like a real kiss to me.
Maybe a week or two later...
I gave this boy a ride home from school. We were going to hang out at his house, but two of his dopey friends were randomly already there waiting for him. He was visibly annoyed by this. Especially when one of them emerged from behind one of his shrubs in a cloud of smoke. Ahahahaha.
We walked to the back of his house and hung out with his buddies on his deck. We then went inside to watch a bit of TV. His friends never went away. During all of this he tried putting his arm around me and nervously patted me on the back a few times.
The boy received a phone call where he learned that his car was ready to be picked up from the auto body shop. He asked me to drive him there. I said I would take him and he proceeded to kick his friends out so we could leave. I parked in the lot of a restaurant called Cafe Mirage that is located across the street from the auto body shop. I waited for him to go get his car, and when he did he parked it next to mine in the parking lot. I was nervous about saying good-bye to him because I expected another kiss to be coming my way. I dislike PDA and felt exposed in that big, open parking lot. I would have been willing to kiss him if we were somewhere private. Oh, well.
I went to give him a hug, but he went for a kiss. He ended up missing and I was annoyed by the whole situation. I was cooperative when he made a second attempt. Our faces came near each other, and I went for the kiss openmouthed, but he didn't and the kiss was clumsy. I tried to shrug it off and hug him good-bye, but he said, "No, let's get this right."
So, we tried one last time. He got the hint that his lips needed to be unsealed, and I may have initiated a tongue kiss. Hee. :twisted:
But here's where it got bad. The kiss lasted for what seemed like a million years and it was AWFUL. It felt like I had a jellyfish or some other unpleasant sea creature in my mouth. I may have grimaced. After it was over, he looked at me a bit surprised. I think it was because he wasn't expecting me to put my tongue in his mouth. I faked a smile and went to my car. I waited for him to pull away, then let out a yelp of excitement (eee! it finally happened), disgust (wow, that was really bad), and confusion (since I didn't enjoy that, I wonder if I'm even really attracted to boys.)
When I got home I called my best friend and told her that this boy had kissed me and that I thought I was a lesbian. She assured me that I was not a lesbian and that the boy was probably a really bad kisser.
And that concludes the story of my first real kiss, and how it was so bad that I questioned my sexuality. I have since concluded that I am definitely not a lesbian and that there are better kissers out there in the world. Oh, I've also learned that really bad kissers cannot be taught how not to be bad. Poor things. Let us all shed a tear for them. :cry:
