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First Kiss–Tell Me All About it

By annegb

The one-and-only annegb will be guest posting with us for the next month. When I first started blogging, she quickly became my favorite sassy-grandma in the bloggernacle.  Two years of blog-reading later and she still is my favorite writer. She regularly blogs with the “peculiar people” at Mormon Mentality. Lucky them, lucky us. Thanks annegb! —Maralise

My Sarah and I laugh every once in awhile when we remember her first kiss. She was six and I was tending a little boy in her kindergarten class, Christian. As they jumped on the tramp and slid down the slide and climbed the tree in the backyard, she was overcome with affection for her friend and gave him a big kiss on the cheek.

He almost threw up. He actually gagged and held on to a tree limb and dry heaved several times. Then he looked at her and said, “Never do that again.” I was lying on the grass laughing and trying not to pee my pants.

He’s big and handsome now and maybe he doesn’t remember his first kiss, although I have reminded his mother occasionally about his drastic response.

Thinking back, I had a similar “grossed out” response to my first kiss. I have only recently realized that I was slow to develop hormonally. Or perhaps I was channeling my inner Emily Dickinson because I enjoyed admiring boys from afar, as a concept, but didn’t really long for that boyfriend-girlfriend relationship that my other 13 year old friends made their priorities. I was more interested in books and skateboarding (let me tell you, I was a killer skateboarder).

A boy, what was his name?-I don’t remember, but he was 16 and he got a crush on me and asked me to go steady and everybody thought it was a good idea, so I said yes, but it only lasted till that evening when he kept trying to get me to make out with him on the couch. No desire whatsoever. No tingle when he held my hand or put his arm around my back. More of a “what the hell are you doing?” sort of feeling.

So he dumped me because I wouldn’t make out with him and I was vastly relieved.

However, as that summer progressed, in our Long Beach neighborhood that, at the time resembled a small town in itself and brings back fond memories, kids paired off. My younger sister, who was a bigger tomboy than I, got the best boy. I never told her I thought he was the cutest until last year and she agreed, “Yes, Mike O’Neil was hot. He was the hottest boy.” I ended up going steady (again) with a boy named Rusty. I can’t remember his last name.

He was my age and more stupid like I was, so it wasn’t as uncomfortable. We actually ended up being pretty good friends and we skateboarded to the beach together and hung out at Cherry Street Park and I quite enjoyed his company. As a friend.

Mike was two years younger than Rusty, the same age as my sister, and he decided we all needed to make out. So we went to the laundry room that was in the backyard of our little apartment complex and we made an agreement. First Chris and Mike would go into the laundry room and shut the door and make out and then Rusty and I would go in and make out.

Chris and Mike came out looking knowledgeable and I envied my sister her aplomb since I, even at my age, wasn’t really sure what making out was. Then Rusty and I went into the laundry room. We sat side by side on a shelf near the washers and felt awkward for awhile. I realize now he was much more eager than I—-I basically just wanted to get it over with. Finally, he said, “Shall we?”

And I said, “Okay.”

And he leaned over and kissed me. Well, he touched his wet lips to mine. I was totally grossed out but not wanting to hurt his feelings by rubbing his spit off my lips sort of sat there, frozen with my feelings of grossness and thinking, “What is the big deal about this?”

And he said, “Do you want to do it again?”

And I said, “No. I’m not ready for that.”

And we went out and I hoped we looked as experienced as my younger sister and ran to the bathroom and washed my lips off.

Things went kind of downhill with me and Rusty after that. We still had fun together, but all he wanted to do was kiss me again and it just ruined the friendship for me. I would not do that again. He moved at the end of the summer and I wouldn’t even kiss him goodbye, although I was sad to lose my friend.

We wrote to each other for awhile, then I decided I didn’t want to go steady anymore (I think he was living in Ohio) and sent him back his Tiki necklace with a short note telling him I liked him, but going steady wasn’t my thing.

He wrote me a tearfully emotional letter telling me he’d jumped up excitedly to get my letter and broke his ankle, then read the letter and got bad news and I’d broken his heart.

You know, I still feel quite badly about hurting him because he was my friend and I wish I could remember his last name so I could tell him how sorry I am and how much he really meant to me aside from all the lovey-dovey stuff.

I didn’t kiss anybody again until I was 16 and it went a little better. Kissing, what an issue it can be. How was your first kiss?

About annegb

30 thoughts on “First Kiss–Tell Me All About it”

  1. Ohhh, SOOO awkward! In hindsight, it all seems more sweet and innocent than it felt at the time, eh?

    A boy asked me to go steady with him and I said yes, right up until he tried to give me a shoulder rub and a kiss. He sneaked up on me in my doorway and kissed me quickly. I told him I couldn't go steady anymore because my parents wouldn't let me. I avoided boys until I was 17. I'm just hoping my kids are as dorky as I was!

    I can't wait to read more of these stories!

  2. I was in ninth grade (late bloomer, me) and on a field trip to Baltimore's Inner Harbor. My friends and I attracted the attention of this guy, age sixteen or so, who had dropped out of school and spent his days hanging around the waterfront talking to people. A total loser, yes, but to fourteen-year-olds with anti-establishment leanings, he was cool. Plus he was hot. Very hot.

    So, he hung out with us for a few hours, charming us with his oh-so-mature views on life. At one point he turned to me and started singing Depeche Mode's "Somebody," which was the song to swoon to in those days. Then he said "Can I speak with you alone for a minute?" All my friends looked at me with drooling envy as I floated off by his side. We walked a ways to a candy store, where I bought some Jelly Bellies. He started feeding them to me. Right after a peppermint one, he kissed me. Zing!!!

    At the end of the afternoon, right before our group boarded the school buses, he kissed me again, in front of my entire class. For the first time in my life, I was a celebrity.

    But it was all downhill after that. He called me (long distance! It was true love!) that afternoon, but he was shy on the phone and hung up after a minute or so. I never heard from him again. A week later my friend and I went back up to the Harbor to try to find him, to no avail. I was devastated.

    Years later I bumped into him at a music festival. He was drunk and looked like crap. I smirked and went on my merry way.

  3. I had a real grossed out reaction, too. He was terrible, but he thought he was so suave. There was slime all the way across both cheeks. Plus, there had been no warning. Ugh! And I was 18. I had built up my hopes through my teenage years, just to have them crushed by sliminess.

  4. I was 19, had been going steady with the guy for about a month, and was getting impatient waiting for him to kiss me. So one night after he walked me home, I turned to him at my apartment door and said, "Don't you think you should kiss me sometime?"

    He was quiet for a moment and then said nervously, "Is it okay if I say no?"

    I'm tough. "Sure," I said, and I meant it. "See you tomorrow." I was turning to go into my apartment when he sighed heavily and said, "Fine, I guess," and gave me a quick kiss.

    How's that for an self-esteem booster?

  5. Third grade. Eugene Perank. He kissed me on the playground. I punched him. He ducked. I hit the stucco wall behind him and split open all my knuckles. Blood everywhere.

    No one messed with me again for many years after that.

  6. My friend and I used to joke that I thought her older brother was hot. He got in on the joke, and we became fake boyfriend-girlfriend … until he tried making out with me in the basement of his dad's store, at which point I guess it became real. I didn't think it was gross, exactly, but it was weird and I didn't understand what all the fuss was about. As we continued to make out, however, I came around, lol. I was 15.

    Funny that you ask, as another Segullah post prompted me to write a scandalous tell-all about my kissing history last month. I feel like I've come full circle, lol!

  7. This is funny, because I had just been thinking of blogging about my first kiss, so I'll just tell the tale here.

    As I recall it happened when I was 17. A group of us church kids was driving to or from some church activity far away (anything on a stake level was always far away), and I was sitting in the front passenger seat. All of a sudden a felt a girl's hand carressing my right hand, which was resting on the door rest. The girl sitting behind me was holding and carressing my hand. That took admirable chutzpah, but it was the most wonderful feeling in the world!

    So we ended up kind of being an item for a short time, maybe a month or two. She was a year or two older than I was [tall, slender, cute blond with short hair] and way more experienced (in a good Mormon girl kind of way), so in a way this was a good educational experience for me. She had just broken up with her boyfriend, and I came to learn later that I was just a rebound guy, but that was fine. I appreciated the experience and the practice.

    We went on some dates and sat together at church and did a lot of hand holding and neck carressing, but that was pretty much it. Finally towards the end of our run together I kissed her. It was a terrific kiss (again, she kind of took the lead and taught me how). I can still remember driving home that night (a pretty far distance), and how it seemed as though the car were about five feet off the ground the whole way. I was on cloud nine.

    She broke up with me not long after that, as I was just a temporary diversion for her post-break up. It sucked at first, but I got over it quickly, and I really appreciated the learning experience.

    And also that wonderful first kiss. I remember it as if it were yesterday, and that was roughly 32 years ago.

  8. I was 16, but he wasn't quite yet. He had for some reason taken a liking to me on our first day of high school about a year earlier, and he had basically waited out the fact I wouldn't date until my birthday. He's really one of the most amazing people I've ever known, and set an impossibly high standard for men in my life.

    But back to kissing–we were sitting on the corner a couple blocks from the high school, talking like we often did before he would go one way to his home and I would go another way to mine. I lost track of time and we kept talking. He leaned over and kissed me, and then we kept kissing. I didn't really think at all of anything like public discretion, so when my mom drove up in the van with my many younger siblings trying to figure out why I hadn't come home, her first sight of me found me on a street corner, more entangled than the figures in Rodin's The Kiss.

    She yelled at me all the way home of course, but somehow that didn't seem to have anything to do with anything.

  9. I don't kiss and tell. *wink*

    Let's just say this. However it was it must have been more about being the first time than it was about the kisser because when we got back together a year or two later it was not the same. Not at all the same.

  10. I was 14 and we were on a ward temple trip to Toronto. It was a long 8 hour drive and I managed to score the bench seat in the back of the bus with the boy I was crushing on and another good friend. There was a lot of flirting and eating of halloween candy. We sneakily kissed in the corner of the seat when we thought no one was looking, a wet slobbery kiss. Our skills improved over the course of the weekend. I ended up breaking up with him a week later, probably from the guilt of kissing him before I was 16. I still wonder if my parents, in the front of the bus, got word of what I was doing in the back 🙂

  11. I love hearing these stories. Good to hear I'm normal. Kevin, your wife should probably thank that girl. Lucky is the woman whose husband has been taught how to kiss.

  12. 9th grade. My one year in drama; I was the geeky shy kid, and he was the rebel. I was desperately in love with him, and he condescended to kiss me after opening night. He then promptly dumped me and became quite entangled (in all kinds of ways) with my Swedish best friend. I then became convinced that I had committed a mortal sin and needed to talk to my bishop. I never did so because I was too ashamed of my filthiness.

    Next kiss: 20. He pecked me on the lips and then ran out the door. It felt just like kissing my grandmother. He did a whole lot more the next night (no, not that much), and I was so traumatized by the whole experience that I hid from him for two days. Not really the best relationship I've had.

  13. I maintained my lip virginity until the ripe old age of 23. I don't regret that, but it did really raise the stakes for my first kiss. I mean, if you wait that long, when it finally happens it had better be good. And, whomever I kissed would almost surely be more experienced, so I was nervous that I would completely mess it up.

    I was dating a very nice guy whom I really liked, but at first I was still quite anxious about the whole kissing thing. At one point I told him point-blank, "I get the impression you want to kiss me. Please don't be offended, but I don't think I'm ready for that yet." He handled that well, and we continued to date. Gradually I became more comfortable with the idea of kissing him, and I thought that to keep from being caught off-guard it would be better if I chose my moment and sent him a clear signal that I was ready to kiss him.

    So, one evening while we were sitting on the couch in his apartment and he was being very affectionate, I decided the moment had arrived, and I said something to the effect of, "There's something I really want to do, but I need you to show me how, because I've never done it before." He simply smiled and kissed me three times.

    Then he said, "Are you sure you've never done that before?"

  14. I met a boy after school in the woods behind the school. I was 16? or so. He kissed me, and I laughed. I was nervous. I still feel bad for laughing. It was a first kiss for both of us.

  15. Like many of you, my first kiss was in 9th grade. While I had previously had one or two (largely unrequited) crushes, I had never had a 'girlfriend' until Remette Pettinelli asked me to the "Dogpatch Drag" (our high school's annual girl-ask-boy dance). She apparently had been interested me for a while, something that I had been totally oblivious to. She lived a few miles from me, so I would walk over to her house to see her. It was on one of those visits that we kissed for the first time. It was my first kiss, ever — I'm not sure it was hers, since she seemed a bit more comfortable and knowledgeable about the whole thing.

    We broke up just a few months later (Remette's idea; I was heartbroken), and though we both ended up in choir together the following school year, there was always a bit of tension or distance there — until our senior year. I gave her a ride home one night — probably from a choir performance or activity — and we started talking and reminiscing and just generally having a wonderful talk together until her father came in and finally broke it up somewhere around 3 am. We had a comfortable friendship after that, and I have fond feelings towards her to this day. ..bruce..

  16. My first "real" kiss…pecks don't count in my book (and it's a loooooong book) (wink) (can I do that, just keep putting parenthesis around groups of words so carelessly?)…I was 16 and a junior. His name was Matt F. and he was part of the Stake dance circut. There were 4 stakes in our stake dance circut, so the dances were a pretty big deal. I was not very comfortable with guys back then and I'd had a couple of chances for kissing but was just so uncomfortable with the whole thing. It's like I really wanted to kiss someone already, but was terrified at the same time so I kept putting it off. Matt and I sorta went back and forth liking each other for a while and we hung out with our respective friends on the weekends quite a bit. (Turns out one of my best friends actually told him I had never kissed anyone before. I had given her strict instructions not to tell him this.) So one night, after a dance, we were at someone's house watching SNL. I walked him out the door. He hugged me…and then said "So Amanda told me you've never done this before…" and then he kissed me. It was a pretty decent first kiss–homeboy knew what he was doing. After we pulled away though, my pride was a little shot and I said "She said that? What a liar…." I'm pretty sure he knew I was the one lying. I'm not sure we ever kissed again…I did however kiss one of his friends about a month later.

  17. My first kiss (age 14, at a Christmas party under the mistletoe) was so spine-tingly mind-blowing world-rockin' AWESOME that I spent the next four months "going out" with this guy even though he was otherwise rather boring (but handsome). I had other boyfriends in my teenhood that were more fun and interesting, but they didn't have the knee-buckling heart-stopping effect, and I would just lose interest once they kissed me. But then I met my to-be-husband and once HE kissed me, I knew I had better marry him so I could have that scrumptious experience every day. It's been 20 years and he still RULEZ.

  18. I was thinking about my girls last night and you know, Sarah was ready for her first kiss, let me tell you! She went steady with a boy her whole 8th grade year and it was quite nerve wracking for his mother and for me. What's up with that, some people are totally ready and seem to know what they're doing and others are all "what the hell was that gross thing?"

  19. I was 14 yrs old at a Youth Conference watching the film Psycho. I remember lots of cold spit, and he also did this "attack and retreat" French kissing that was beyond nasty. But he wasn't much of a conversationalist either. I wasn't sure how to get rid of him, so I toughed it out until the end of the Youth Conf and avoided being alone with him (not that we were alone in the movie–there were probably 50 people there). I'm not sure it was lack of experience–he was just a gross kisser.

  20. Heather, I hope I didn't strike a nerve. I had some guys force me to accept the kiss of another guy, I'd forgotten all about it, but this kid who was slightly mentally retarded was my friend in Kansas. We just hiked around together and I certainly had no ulterior motives. I was 11.

    But he had three big brothers and it took all three of them to hold me down so he could kiss me (actually, he didn't want to do it, he looked as traumatized as I was). I will never forget that awful feeling of being unable to move and how mad I was at them. I never stopped struggling. I hate them forever. Now that I remember it.

    The first guy to stick his tongue in my mouth was a really cute cowboy named Mike something. It wasn't that gross, but I truly wasn't ready for that. I was 17 and that was the end of that kissing. Also he never dated me again. I didn't regret it at all.

    Kissing is way more complicated than it seems. You know, my daughter, Jessie, always insists on kissing me on the mouth. She's 29 and I don't like it. I say, "Jessie, not on the lips!" And she laughs and does it anyway. I guess I'd never survive in Russia where everybody kisses everybody on the lips. At least in the movies. I only let my husband kiss me on the lips. I had an uncle (who I adored and still miss) who was, I believe, slightly lecherous. He was quite old and always wanted a hug and a kiss on the lips and I set him straight very quickly.

    I did kiss my babies on the lips.

  21. Anngb, were you talking to me? (There are so many Heathers over here, after all). No nerve struck. I guess I should have said what defined my first kiss was not sweet, romantic, or pretty, but LAME. It was two 14 year old kids who didn't know each other very well kissing because well, that was what you were supposed to do. In retrospect, I think I was just trying to be cool, and he was probably more just sort of surprised I was willing to kiss him. But I didn't know how to handle the situation, so I panicked, and "dumped" him the next night for another debater. Does that make me a debate slut? Perhaps, but I repented and refused to kiss the other guy, who compensated by sleeping with another girl the last night we were all there. Class acts, all around.

    And mommas, tell your daughters to beware of debators. You never know what knucklehead they might meet in a debate round, and end up marrying 6 years later 😉 .

  22. I was 16; he was in college. He had come to pick me up for a date (and yes, my parents knew about this, and no, they did not like it one bit!); my parents were gone (doh!) and my siblings were mulling around the house. I was finishing my hair (this was the early 90's –big hair was in), and he was standing in the bathroom doorway looking at me. I had been ignoring him since he got there (I wasn't ready, yet!) and he looked kind of rejected (the louse), and so I said "oh, I'm sorry! How are you?" and hugged him in a greeting. I had been avoiding his advances for a while, but in that moment, he took his chances and kissed me good and long. I didn't realize until later that my reaction was to just kiss him back.

    Dang, he was a good kisser. But still a louse. I'm glad I got through that one alive…

    I hate kissing other people on the lips, too. Only my babies and only my husband. Even great-grandma doesn't get kissed on the mouth. It's just weird.

  23. I was also 23 and my first and only kissing partner was my now husband (I was his first kiss too). I didn't get asked out in high school and rarely in college until after my mission. Anyways, we'd been dating for a few weeks (after knowing each other as friends for nearly a year) and were talking in the park at night with our arms around each other. He asked if he could kiss me, I said yes, and he did. The first attempt was very tentative, but we practiced a lot after that 🙂

  24. My guy we ended up calling "the bucket", because I would need a bucket to get off all of the goo. Enough said. I am so glad those awkward days are over. He almost ruined it for me. Good thing I have a great kisser of a husband. No bucket needed here.

  25. Is this Mormon Mommy Wars? Oh, wait, its Segullah.

    *Part of this comment was removed by the Editorial Board due to the violation of Segullah commenting guideline #2: No excessive diversion from the intended subject of the author.*

  26. The memories of my very first kiss have faded…that first "boyfriend" in 8th grade…We had just performed in our little singing group at the fair and then he and his friends convinced me to go on the Super Loop, even though I know that upside down rides=death-by -vomit for me. I did it! And I thought I had survived. And then I got dizzy as we walked around. We sat down on a bench and he leaned over and kissed me. Nice enough, but then I immediately threw up. Ew. He remained my "boyfriend," but I think it was pretty much downhill from there. The next fall I met a cute sk8r boy at a quad stake sock hop whose blue eyes made my knees quake. I was munching some M-n-Ms when he asked for my phone number, and I gave him some M-n-Ms along with my number. When he opened his hand, all the M-n-Ms were green. He looked up at me with a grin and said, "You know what they say about green M-n-Ms? Ummm, I don't think I'll be needing these." After which he put his hand on the back of my neck and planted a sweet one on my about-to-turn-14 lips and I pert-near died! I mean, how smooth was he at 15 years old in his Bones Brigade T-shirt? Oh, yes. He prepared me to kiss Tony Hawk at a demo four months later, and thus began my kissing career, which actually remained pretty chaste and earned me the title of Tease. It was worth it.

  27. Well, halfway down the replies I thought I'd be the only one who had virgin lips until the age of 23! Phew! Glad I'm not the only one. It was sweet and romantic (and with the man who became my hubby). We were dancing and he said to me, "I really want to kiss you right now." I said, "I wish you would." And the rest is history.


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