Alyssa, BC
It was a week after my 17th birthday, and in a week we’d be off to school again – me a senior and him a junior. I had never been kissed before, or even had a boyfriend. In fact, C wasn’t my boyfriend and I knew that it was a mistake to even go to his house but I was determined to have my first kiss before I graduated.
I had always been a flirt, as had he. Two years prior to the kiss I had met him through my at the time best friend. When my friend and I got in a fight about whether we should date or not, C was there to comfort my broken heart and had seemingly stuck around after.
We were in his room, his sister in the one next to us. I had “snuck” in through the back door like he told me, saying “it would be more fun”. Since his door did not lock, he places a small dresser in front of it while I waiting on the bed, patiently, scared.
He sat down on the bed as well, telling me to come closer so he could hug me knowing something was on my mind. I told him it was nothing and lay down on my back while he followed next to me, yet him on his side and facing me.
For some reason or another I turned towards him and he came closer. My conscious thoughts were “Why the hell is he coming so close? Oh my, he wants to kiss. Well, why not?” and went for it. It was wet, and his tongue was much thicker and slimier than I had thought it would be. I had no idea what to do, but he seemed to guide me along and I quickly caught on of when to breathe and when to not. After, we played chess.