I'm writing this blog entry in response to this great entry my buddy Orannia wrote. I was going to write a comment and then realized the story would be too long for a comment...plus half my comments don't get published on her page for some weird reason.
Anyhoodles, my first real kiss was with my first boyfriend. Talk about not knowing anything. *shakes head* I mean, I knew the logistics of stuff, but the actual doing of stuff was completely beyond me. *sigh*
P was a saint though. A girl couldn't ask for a better first boyfriend. The man had the patience of a I don't know what. All I know is that most guys who are 25 are usually concerned about getting into a girl's pants. He wasn't. Well, he was, but he was willing to move slow with me (bless him).
We'd gone out twice and were at his apartment. He'd lived in the place for over a year, but his living room was piled high with boxes, so we used to hang out in his room all the time. I was laying on my stomach on his bed and we'd been talking about all kinds of stuff when he looked at me and asked me if he could kiss me.
Now, I gotta tell ya, I was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO nervous. I'd asked my mom before I'd gone out with him how you actually kissed someone. What if tongue got involved? lol. My mom was awesome though and just said to relax my lips and let it just flow...not to force anything.
So, when I nodded and he leaned forward to kiss me, I followed my mom's instructions. He placed his lips ever so gently over mine and I kept my lips relaxed. Man, that boy could kiss. Never sloppy, no slimy tongue shoved down my throat, just the simplest of kisses and yet it was one of the best. We spent a lot of time kissing after that, but I'll never forget my first kiss.