Kissing is another part of growing up. This is a freaky moment in a young person’s life. We hope our readers understand to take their time with these things. Never feel pressure to do something you’re not ready for.
I was kind of a late bloomer compared to many of my friends in high school. My first kiss didn’t happen until senior year of high school. I had been dating this boy for MONTHS and neither of us had ever been kissed before so we were both really nervous about it and he had mentioned that he wanted it to happen somewhere special. It wound up happening in the most romantic place one could conceive of: my parent’s garage. I was the one who wound up just going for it and kissing him because honestly I was sick and tired of waiting around for him to get the bravery to go for it. The kiss itself was terrible, messy and short. Since then, I have been several other people’s first kisses and I have given them a much more pleasant experience. If one of you is reading this, you’re welcome.
It kind of tasted like popcorn, if you went ham on the salt and then dropped it into a swimming pool.
Two words: frat basement. I wasn’t expecting it at all, but I had kind of flirted with him the week before. The kiss was short and sweet. I liked the guy a lot at the time, and he told me if he had known it was my first kiss, he wouldn’t have done it there. I don’t regret it.
I don’t think there’s a more cliché place than the back row of a movie theater while watching the first Avengers movie. I was 12, she was fourteen and it wasn’t her first kiss, so I was a nervous wreck during the whole movie. The kiss itself happened in the middle of the movie during the slow part where all the characters are wondering if they can possibly defeat evil. It was short but it wasn’t awkward at all, thankfully. We ended up kissing a lot more after that so the ending of the Avengers movie is still a mystery to me.
I barely remember my first kiss. It was around the summer of sixth grade and some boys in my “boyfriend’s” basement pressured me to kiss him (I say boyfriend in quotation marks because dating someone didn’t really count as dating back then). I walked into the laundry room with him (you know, romance) and we pecked on the lips. I don’t remember exactly what it felt like, and I didn’t back then either. I went home later and he messaged me on a texting app on my iPod asking how I felt about it, which I didn’t know how to answer. I probably told him it was fine then didn’t talk about it ever again.
Are your stories any sweeter than ours?