I'm totally stealing this topic from Ann's forum... tell us about your first kiss.

-- Anonymous, July 28, 2000

Answers

Truthfully, my first kiss wasn't all that great. It was too quick for me to even enjoy. I always dreamed that my first would be magical, like those sappy ones in romantic movies. Oh well, my second one was much better!

-- Anonymous, July 28, 2000

Sean Smith, we were 12 years old, standing on his front porch after a screening of "Ghost" (hid dad drove us). Very chaste and sorta awkward, but still gave me ridiculous butterflies. I remember he apologized for not frenching, cause he didn't know how. Sometimes I think about him, and wonder what he's up to, cause it seems like he would've probably grown up to be a pretty good man.

-- Anonymous, July 28, 2000

I was 12. It was Matt McDonald and we frenched behind the skating rink. The whole school was abuzz the next day. I don't think any of my friends from school had ever done that before and one girl asked me if I felt any older. I was so obsessed with Matt in 5th and 6th grade. It was really sick; I read way too much Seventeen magazine. My diaries from those years are just pages and pages of "I love Matt.... I want to marry Matt..." Still, we broke up when I cheated on him at summer camp. Matt went on to become an asshole jock and I went on to become a misfit. Aw!

-- Anonymous, July 29, 2000

I was almost 16 and it was DumbAss, my h.s.b.f. I, steeped in Sweet Dreams Paperbacks, had been looking forward to My First Kiss with near-religeous fervor, because it had to be Important and Special. So when DumbAss drove me to the beach, man, that was a scene right out of one of my silly romance books, right? After some awkwardness, he finally leaned over and kissed me. No, no tongue. And I... I was so nervous that I couldn't remember a thing about it afterwards. "The strange thing is, I can't really remember what happened" I wrote in my teen diary. I later mentally re-created the moment as I thought it must've happened, so, in years to come, when DumbAss would press me for details about how I all but swooned at his masterful touch (um), I could agree whole-heartedly.

I believe elsewhere Sars used the phrase "the washing machine kiss"... which pretty much summed up the Kissing Technique that I was used to in The DumbAss Years....

-- Anonymous, July 29, 2000

It was horrible horrible horrible! He dragged me behind a back stairwell at school and shoved his tongue down my throat so hard I gagged! Ugh...until then I was so excited about kissing, I thought it was this magical sweet amazing thing! Siiiiigh

-- Anonymous, July 29, 2000

It was a spin-the-bottle-game in my basement at my 13th birthday party. He was a good kisser. I think I liked it a little too much.

He later took me to my junior high graduadtion dance. I ran into him at my high school reunion ten years later and told him that that had been my first kiss. He was properly reverant.

He lives too far away. Sigh...

-- Anonymous, July 29, 2000

oh, man. :-)
Two years ago I started writing A Brief (hopefully) History Of Kelly And Boys (lost interest partway through, tho), so I can just cut-and-paste directly from my "manuscript".

[It's important, before we begin, that you all understand: I have never, ever, been popular or successful with Boys, and I'm still not. (Not even close.) My love life's a tinfoil crown with two or three cubic zirconias scattered amongst a handful of plastic gemstones.]

Proceed.

Had NUMEROUS unrequited crushes on boys from 7th grade - 12th; nine out of ten times, the boy didn't even know I existed. Younger boys seemed more my option (older boys and boys my age looked right through me), and I got this crush on a boy in my German class. I was in 11th grade, he was in 10th (it was a mixed class) and his name was Rob H--f. He was a total dork, but I liked him. I went to JV basketball games to watch him play, and flirted with him in class, and "happened" by his locker a lot during the day. We started talking on the phone, ostensibly to discuss German homework, but mostly really just teasing and flirting. It was nearing Christmas and we had those "secret santa" thingys at school, so I sent him a candy(cane)gram and a red carnation, and I put chocolate Hershey's Kisses in his locker all day. (Don't remember how I ended up with his combination! Huh.) And at the end of the day, he surprised me in the quad with mistletoe, planting a quick, soft kiss on my mouth right before he left.

My First Kiss. Aw!

We talked on the phone through the winter break, and the first day back at school in January, we were alone after school, hanging out in the hall by the German classroom. I knew he was going to kiss me and I was TERRIFIED.
I was sitting on this railing, and he put his face next to mine and...

...gave me the grossest, ickiest french kiss of my life. I kid you not.

Maybe he had never kissed anyone before. I don't know. But what he did was thrust his tongue in and out of my mouth like it was a penis and my mouth was a vagina. I was repulsed, embarrassed, disgusted...
Grossed Out.
I clearly remember thinking in terror and disappointment, "Oh my god, THIS is what french kissing is like?" and wondering how anyone could possibly enjoy it. He finished kissing me (after what seemed an eternity, was probably only 30 seconds or so) and I said my goodbyes and hurried away as quickly as I could.
Ran into the girls' locker room and rinsed my mouth out at the fountain, over and over. I was so creeped out! And then who should appear but Sally B----n, who asked, "Did I just see you and Rob kissing?"
Oh, GOD!!!! Mortification.

(Thus concludeth My First "French" Kiss. Ew.)

I was now seriously afraid of kissing, until I confided in a friend about what had happened and she said "Eeeeeeew!" and told me that's NOT how kissing is supposed to be done.

A year later, when I was a senior, I went on my Second Ever Date, with a freshman named Matt. That night, after two--yes, TWO (long awkward story ommitted to spare y'all)-- movies, we sat in my parked car (he being too young to drive, *groan*) and without any big buildup, Matt kissed me. And to my relief, it was nice. And I could DO it.

I told you it was pathetic.

-- Anonymous, July 29, 2000

My first kiss came one hot summer in southern Louisiana with my first real girlfriend, Michelle L. I was a junior in high school and she was a freshman. We were upstairs in my house, in the rec room (what had once been intended as a master bedroom and was now a party room for the teens in my family, complete with a piano, a TV with a couch and video games, a full size pool table and a dry bar). I don't remember at all what was on TV, but it was hot in the house, the couch was vinyl and so it stuck to our legs sticking out of our shorts. I was so nervous about trying to go for my first kiss that I was making myself sick. But the kiss was very, very nice. No frenching that time, but we did that later, and it was cool, too.

My first time frenching came compliments of a girl I had a crush on, Lisa P. She was beautiful and a senior, one year older than me. We had sorta been out on a "date" - actually hanging with a bunch of our friends, but we were "together" - and when I drove her home, she kissed me. MAN, what a dynamite kiss! I had always liked her. I directed her in a play in Drama class that year. She earned a Voice scholarship to a state college, then moved after college to NYC to pursue a career as a model. I don't think that turned out, though, because I found her again this year, singing lead for her own rock-punk band in New York, and she's put on a LOT of weight. I wrote her email and she wrote back. She's cool. :-)

One last thing about that rec room at home: we kids had all our friends autograph the ceiling with blue pool cue chalk and our parents were totally cool with it. The ceiling was covered with writing and it was legendary around school. We had to paint over it when we sold the place and all of us moved away.

-- Anonymous, July 30, 2000

I was told by my mother that my first kiss happened when I was two and I kissed the neighbor boy and knocked him off the porch. My first real kiss was the EXACT SAME neighbor boy, when I was 12 playing '7 minutes in heaven' (the furnace room in my friend's basement).

The boy grew up to be gay. I maintain that these events are unrelated.

-- Anonymous, July 31, 2000

I'm appalled to say that I CAN'T REMEMBER IT.

It probably happened sometime in high school, but I spent most of my time there in a fog because my father had died when I was a pre-teen. I was VERY depressed and didn't say much of anything to anyone and didn't feel like partying or cutting up or being a typical lively teenager. My freshman year followed my dad's death and I don't really remember anything much beyond very broad details (I had so and so for a teacher, I took such and such a class) until junior and senior year. I wasn't a pariah, odly enough, but I wouldn't say I was Miss Popularity either, obviously! I had male and female friends, I was just really quiet.

I remember having a couple of crushes but not doing anything about it because the object de crush in each case was never going to be a good boyfriend or even a good friend. Out of cowardice and/or prudence, I just crushed out in private and got over it in private. Bo-ring.

I had to have been kissed somewhere along the line before college, because I don't recall being in a panic about it at that point. I know I never got to kiss any of my crushes, because that would have shocked me into a coma. I DO recall being in a panic about it when I was younger, mostly about "where do the noses go?" and "will I have bad breath?" and even "CAN braces lock together or is that a myth?", but somehow that all got resolved. I don't recall having any hot and heavy make-out sessions while in high school, either. (If I did and it was with you and you read this, please clue me in and try not to take it personally that I don't remember.) In college, it wasn't great--the first kiss I can definitely remember--but it didn't seem unfamiliar and I didn't panic about it.

Is this how people with split personalities deal with life? I had no idea I didn't KNOW this until you asked. Gads. Now I'm sad. Before you ask, I DO remember losing my virginity. (I think it's behind the couch.) It was, for the most part, pleasant and comfortable.

I also don't remember my first period, but I do remember preparing for it months in advance by going to the store, casually buying some Tampax, and then waiting, and then using them per the instructions without any fanfare. My mother found them when I was 16 or so and was relieved that I wasn't a medical anomaly and pissed that I hadn't gone running to her to break the news.

This is clearly not normal.

I'm not being coy, I really and truly can't remember and now it bothers me. How could I forget something like that?

-- Anonymous, July 31, 2000

Milla, from today's Ann Landers:

********************************** Dear Ann Landers: Since you are an astute observer of life, you know times certainly have changed, and not for the better. There was a time when a woman could remember her first kiss. Women today cannot remember their first husband. What will the future hold? -- Alaska Fan

**********************************

Serves you right for making me hork bagel on my computer after that crack about your virginity, damn you....

p.s. Ann's answer was completely unimportant, so don't ask.

-- Anonymous, August 01, 2000

Chad Whitson. I was eleven. We had been playing in my room while our parents were outside hanging around the swimming pool. It was on the cheek. I was very proud and excited, and I remember telling my mother, who promptly informed me that a) I had somehow finagled him into doing this, and b) it would be a great embarassment to the whole family because my family was friends with the Whitson family, and c) I should never do any such thing ever again.

My mother was pretty normal before all that, but during my whole preteen/teen years phase, she really flipped out. She later told me it was because she didn't grow breasts until, like, college, while I grew them before fourth grade, and so she totally didn't know what to do with someone who was interested in boys before she could drive (or vote, I guess). I just thought it was because I was a horrible person.

Well. That was cathartic, but not very uplifting for everyone else, I'm afraid.

-- Anonymous, August 01, 2000

I was 16 and a half. It was my very first boyfriend, a college boy. The whole time, I couldn't stop thinking, "Well, bloody FINALLY," and trying not to laugh because it felt like a strip of raw meat boogying around in my mouth. I literally skipped out of my friend's car and into the house, I was so glad to have finally gotten it over with.

I'm still friends with the guy.

-- Anonymous, August 02, 2000

I was pushing 19. He had a tattoo on his wrist and a big scar on his face. He played the drums. His breath smelled of Rolling Rock and Camel Lights (a smell which will always make me week in the knees.) His line was "Do you want to walk with me to my bike" and then "Do you want to make out on the steps of Mead Hall?" His nickname amongst my friends and I ended up "Pure Evil" He disappeared in the middle of the semester; he could be dead for all I know. The kiss was cool, but I couldn't eat for three days afterwards. Weird. Sigh.

-- Anonymous, August 02, 2000