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A.L.T., "real" kiss

I have kissed a lot of boys. I am 19 years old and it is a running joke among my group of friends that I have already kissed more than 60 different boys. Yes, I am a make-out slut.

My first kiss happened when I was in sixth grade, on a porch-swing in my aunt’s backyard, but it wasn’t memorable. Instead I am going to tell you about the kiss that changed my life.

I had been in love with A. since I started high school. He was my best friend and I was sure he did not want to be anything more.

The summer before senior year, I was staying at my beach house when I received an unexpected phone call from A. He wanted me to go to a party with him that night. When I told him where I was, he retracted the invitation. The next night I was going to be alone at the house so I called him that afternoon and begged him to hang out with me at the beach. He agreed and picked me up later that night. We got dinner and after we went to the beach, sat in the lifeguard chair, and stared out into the ocean.

It was very romantic, but I still didn’t think he thought of me that way. Then his behavior started to change. It was a little cold so he sat with his arm around me. As we walked back to the car he held my hand. I had butterflies in my stomach and was feeling a way I never had before, and have not felt since.

When we finally got back to my house, he turned off the car and looked into my eyes. I became a little uncomfortable and started awkward conversation. I then realized my younger brother was hiding around the corner of the house to ruin my “date.” I yelled at him and told him to go inside. I turned to apologize to A. and all he said was, “He almost ruined the grand finale.” Then he kissed me. It was not intense (that was saved for the next time), but soft and sweet. It was everything I had dreamt my first kiss with the one boy I had always loved would be.

Our relationship did not last long, but even now, as I continue to kiss more boys than I should, I always remember how I felt when I kissed A. for the first time and hope that someday I will be able to feel that excitement for someone else.

Melissa, Minneapolis

Here is my story of a first kiss.

We were both from small towns in Wisconsin. I met him the summer before my senior year in high school on the 4th of July. We watched the fireworks and stayed up long past midnight talking and holding hands. We were both shy, but exchanged phone numbers and talked quite a bit before going on a first date. As is typical, we went to a movie, and afterwards sat in his car. Not knowing anything about kisses, I just assumed that the guy had to kiss you after the date, so I waited and waited. He wasn't making a move and I really wanted to kiss him, so I blurted out, "Are you going to kiss me?" He lunged; it was wet, sloppy, and lots of tongue. I knew it wasn't a good kiss, in fact, it was pretty bad. He later told me it was his first kiss, too, and that made it more special than any kiss could be.


Kissing The Ugly Toad

My first kiss wasn't happening, and wasn't happening, and just wasn't happening! How could I go into High School next year without having mastered this Junior High School rite of passage? Everyone else had been kissed, but not me. I just wanted to get it over with. To get the deed done. And all that teenage girl kissing my hand and kissing the mirror just wasn't cutting it.

So, I picked the fattest and ugliest boy I knew - Gilbert - even his name was fat and ugly - someone who would never say no to me - and decided to get the deed done. He was in my neighborhood, on my school bus, and in my church youth group, so at least there was a possibility of arranging an encounter with him. After one youth group event, I used all my Junior High School feminine wiles and lured him downstairs into the basement. And wonders of wonders, I somehow enticed him into a kiss. It was dreadful, of course, but it was over with, and that's all that mattered. And now I could go off to High School. I had been initiated into the club!

Ming, 13 years old

I was thirteen and he was the quarter back of the junior varsity football team. It happened to be game day, so as most Midwestern schools are - spirit was a necessity. He had given me his jersey the day before and I've been traipsing about all day in it. Of course along the way getting looks and questions about what was going on between us, but most of the time I just smiled and said I was just supporting his team.

I remember it was a very lovely fall evening, I met him in the bleachers after his game to watch the varsity team play. We were hanging out and flirting when one of his friends came up to join us. I guess he was curious about what was going on so he asked us straight up if we were going steady and at that moment in time, we never really talked about things, but Mike answered with a "yeah." I was a little shocked and a bit giddy when I heard that, then his friend asks us if we've kissed. I've been so taken a back at how fast things were going that I felt myself looking at Mike as he answered "yes!"

Of course we had not ventured down that path but I couldn't exactly betray him and tell his friend the truth after he just said we were going steady. Literally a few minutes after he answered his friend actually asked us to show him and just as fast as he asked Mike turns towards to me... and well, it happened. It was a bit more forceful and a lot less romantic than what I had imagined my first kiss to be, but at that moment it didn't matter because it was Mike, and Mike = butterflies.

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