my real first kiss was with a guy i barely knew, and didn't particularly like. I thought he was cute and all, but there was no real connection.
But my second kiss was intriguing and wonderful. With someone I was attracted to, on some weird magnetic level.
He was my good friend, and we were both 15. We had been relatively close all through freshman year, but i had never really seriously considered him as an option. He had been skinny and awkward. But as the year came to a close, I noticed he had begun to grow up. He was taller, more muscular. I had sensed a strange sexual tension between us in the weeks before summer began, but I had ignored it on account that my friend was still desperately in love with him after a brief fling at the start of the year.
Now it was mid June. All of our friends were far away, traveling in Thailand or Mexico or other exotic places, and we found ourselves alone in the city. We had been hanging out a lot, going to this beautiful little beach that was always less crowded than most.
After playing around in the water for awhile, laughing and flirting, we settled down on to our towels, me leaning on his smooth, bare chest.
We had been talking so much lately that there was no late gossip we hadn't discussed, and found ourselves in a comfortable silence. I closed my eyes for a moment, wondering. I hadn't really had any connection with that other boy I had kissed. What would it be like to kiss someone I knew well, someone i had a weird attraction to? I opened my eyes and found myself becoming extremely aware of how close our faces were. All I had to do was turn my head ever so slightly and we would touch. I removed my sunglasses and looked up at the cerulean sky. I remember it being exceptionally clear and blue that day. The warm sun beat down on our intertwined bodies, the waves lapped casually on the beach. There was a sense of calm and perfection washed over me. I began to think of the reasons not to kiss him, and my friend's face surfaced in my mind. But why should I let other people keep me from from doing what i wanted to do so badly?
"This is fucked up." I whispered. And then i kissed him.
I don't know what I was expecting. Fireworks, musical crescendos...but none of that came. It felt different than the other boy, but still like a tongue moving around in my mouth. I quickly realized he was more aggressive, and I was intrigued. But in my mind I had a plan. I felt like things would go better if i built up a little anticipation and desire, so seconds after our lips touched, I pulled away.
"I'm sorry." he whispered.
"Don't be. We should probably go." I was far from satisfied. I thought one kiss would stamp out the curiosity about him. And yet, it had done just the opposite. In order to kiss someone well, you have to hold on for long enough to experience how their mouth and tongue works with yours. Before that happens, its a sort of blind feeling around. Since we hadn't kissed long enough to get a feel for what we were doing, I couldn't really pass a judgement about how it was. I knew right away I wanted to kiss him again, just to satisfy my curiosity, but I wasn't sure where or when.
After that day, we never looked at each other the same way again. Within a week I kissed him again, and this time I didn't pull away. I think that people hold that first kiss with this sense of awe and wonder, like the first kiss is always the best. But for me, the kisses that followed were infinitely more powerful. The more you kiss someone, the better you work together. I eventually fell in love with this boy, and making out with him would literally leave me numb, the rest of the world would just fade away and my head would spin, like people go on about in books. But that first kiss was just an act of curiosity.