What age did you have your first kiss?
Was it love or anything but?
I was reading a post recently about a first kiss.
(I have tried and failed to find the blog to credit),
and since then I have found myself reminiscing.
I was a young eleven year old,
when playing hide and seek at a party,
the geekiest boy in the world,
made for my great hiding place under the table.
Despite me hissing at him,
and spreading myself out to leave no room,
he ignored my body language and barged in.
As we sat there listening to the sounds,
of all the others being caught,
I became aware of his proximity to me.
I looked over at him to hiss once more,
and that is when I felt it.
Like a wet sponge or a large dog licking,
he made a dive for my face,
and in hindsight I realised I had had my first kiss!.
Gross.
The memory to this day has not faded.
I flew out of that hiding place,
and happily lost my game of hide and seek.
Kissing was off the menu for me.
Then many years later came loves first kiss.
As some of you know,
I was holidaying in Cyprus when I met my husband.
Myself and six trainee nurses.
He had caught my eye.
Sadly for all the wrong reasons.
He and his milky white skinned brother,
were to be seen most days,
with a million bottles of sun cream around them.
Factor 60 for the face, 30 for their legs,
and sun block for those translucent feet.
Then after all that suncreaming,
they sat in the shade, just in case they got sunburn!
However as days passed,
we exchanged glances and the odd conversation.
I began to orchestrate “bumping into him”.
The cool, I don’t run after men, Tric,
was quietly stalking him.
Chemistry causing my heart to beat faster.
Eventually he plucked up the courage,
and one night he asked me out.
We headed off together,
I sitting on the back of a moped.
However as I said he was different,
so on this our first date,
his brother came too!
We had a great night,
and eventually ditched his brother.
The night was drawing to an end,
and both of us were quieting,
the air between us electric,
as we anticipated our first kiss.
And just like that it happened.
Almost immediately I felt it.
“True love” you say,
Chemistry exploding?
Sadly no.
Within seconds my recently eaten dodgy dinner,
came back to haunt me.
Now when I say “came back”,
that is exactly what I mean.
I broke loose and ran.
Shouting “don’t come after me please”.
I made it around the corner,
and lost my dinner.
I was horrified.
Casually I returned to my date,
and did not refer to what had happened,
only saying “I think I better go back to the girls”.
He drove me back,
and with barely a “Goodnight”,
I left him.
Thankfully he did decide to come back the next day,
and the rest as they say is history!
photo credit: Thowra_uk via photopin cc
photo credit: plousia via photopin cc
My thoughts on a page. 
3 of you on a moped? 😯
that must have been cosy ! 😉
Not quite! 🙂
You have got a very interesting story, tric. I like the first picture (of dog licking the face) that goes nicely with the geekiest boy episode. 🙂
Yes that photo helped prompt my memory alright.
LOL. That’s really funny! 🙂
Now THAT’s real life. I wish they kissed like that in films, they’d be a damned sight more realistic!
Ha ha. Not the most romantic first kiss ever! Ah young love, happy days.
Hahahahahaha! Wonderful!! I love both stories.
My first kiss was at the age of 15 (almost 16). I was camping with my mom and there was this Canadian boy – I think he was 14. We rode bikes together and he taught me to skip rocks. Then he asked if he could ask to kiss me. I said yes so then he asked if he could kiss me. So I said yes again and he finally kissed me. Then he got all huffy when I wouldn’t let him french kiss me and that was that. I’ve met a lot of friendly Canadians (living very close to the border) but I think he still wins for friendliest! Lol
Oh what a lovely friendly boy alright. And most polite, I hope my fella learned to at least ask after my experience.
LOL My first kiss was much like yours. I swear I think the guy was trying to suck my face off and it was wet and soppy.
I am laughing here. I think we have lived parallel lives. 🙂
I think so. Sisters from a different mother.
I like it. Of course you are the disappointment and I am the favorite:).
LOL That’s my life in a nutshell 😉
🙂
haha… first kisses are overrated. it takes practice 😉
Yes on that I have to agree. My eleven year old read this and judging by her reaction to reading my first kiss I think it will be a while before she goes there!
A memorable, if not romantic, first date.
Definitely memorable. Thankfully things have improved over the past twenty years.:)
you made me laugh again great story ;););)
🙂
Great story! My wife also barfed shortly after our first kiss. She ALSO blamed a dodgy dinner! Hmmmm….
My first (proper) kiss was amazing. It was at high school, I must have been 13, it was valentine day. A girl I had never noticed before came up to me, took me by the back of the neck and planted a hot, squidgy, lingering kiss on my lips.
She walked away giggling, blushing, stopping only to turn around and give me the cheekiest smile. I was blown away. My heart raced, my knees went weak. Speechless.
I spent the next few days trying to find out who she was. Unfortunately I saw her only once more again. I was in a car with my MUM (not cool) and I saw her on the pavement. I never saw her again. She left the County apparently.
If you are reading this, Tara Beale, I want to thank you for teaching me the power of a kiss.
Great story. Thanks a million for sharing it. Your first kiss was a much nicer memory than mine! Maybe Tara Beale taught you a thing or two.
Ahh Tara Beale….*sigh
lol…cute…you tell a nice story 😉
Thank you. His kisses grew on me after that! 🙂
Do kisses from your Aunties count? 😆
Strangely, I don’t remember my first proper kiss – as opposed to having to kiss my aunties when leaving family gatherings
I suppose though it would have been with my first proper girlfriend, at a party in Lisburn on the 12th July many years ago – just before ‘The Troubles’ began – when I was around 15 yr old.
That I don’t remember much about the kiss is probably because it was overshadowed that night by running for my life through the streets of Belfast, heading for the station to catch the train back to Bangor, pursued by a bunch of enraged Protestants, because one of my mates had yelled a Fenian jibe as we passed a street where a load of ‘orangemen’ were gathered round a bonfire 😳
I remember going on a swim trip with the Irish team. I spent three weeks enjoying the company of a certain northern protestant. On arrival home he told me we could not even talk if we met at galas as his nan and parents would not approve. You were lucky you escaped!
It was a close run thing – I’ve never been so frightened, before or since !