by Jeffe Kennedy
There's kisses, and then there's kisses.
I snagged this picture from jaymzangel's tumblr. Definitely NSFW, but she's got terrific taste.
My first kiss occurred technically when I was about five. No, I don't really remember it. What I do remember is that this was a daily game at Little Lerner's Daycare and I won on most days. The game combined hide 'n seek with tag. And kissing. The losers had to all chip in and buy the King and Queen Hostess Fruit Pies from the little commissary closet. I thought being Queen of Kissing was pretty grand.
Then came a long, dry spell.
A very long, dry spell.
To my chagrin, I made Sweet 16 and Never Been Kissed.
Well, technically there were some kisses the spring before I turned 16, because I worked the Thespian kissing booth at the spring carnival. They weren't lining up for a chance at me, though, and most of my support came in the form of forking over some of my dollars to solicit kisses from the theater boys. Forgettable pecks in the towering fluorescent light of the big gymnasium. I'm pretty sure it was snowing.
They weren't real kisses, either.
I wasn't shy so much as a girl who kept to herself. Even if I got invited to a party, I preferred staying home to read. I liked the idea of boys, but most made me feel uncomfortable, with their loud, obnoxious ways.
A week after my 16th birthday, though, Kevin Colligan walked me out to my car after a bit of a party. More of a hanging-out of some of the theater people. He leaned back against my car and pulled me gently to him, hands cradling my hips. A thrill ran through me. At last, at last. He brushed my lips with his, so soft, so sweet. He deepened the kiss, touching my tongue, running the tip of his lightly inside my upper lip.
I nearly melted.
All that pent-up energy flared into life. A real kiss. It was fabulous. Better than I imagined. Better than a Spencer's malted-milk-ball chocolate-fudge sundae. The same high, only hot.
I told my mom I'd been kissed and she asked me if I had to pay for it.
Yeah. She was being a smart-ass and wasn't trying to be mean. Still, it was a splash of cold water. Probably a good thing when you're 16 and on fire.
That first, real kiss turned me loose. I loved kissing boys. I learned some were much better than others. Then I settled on the one I liked the best and ended up losing my virginity that same year, just before my 17th birthday.
I liked that, too.