Primary Kisses [2009]


I came across this cute website called the first kiss project.  My first impulse was to submit a story of my own, but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly which one would be the best story.  Thus, the only logical course of action was to klepto the idea and twist it to be a little more my own.  Plus it’ll be an exercise to keep the entry at less than 500 words.

Just like the first obvious one to write about would be the one that had been plaguing my mind for the past few months …

The first kiss that I shared with him was messy.  We were both way too drunk and having issues with focusing, so it was understandable that it would be sloppy.  There were teeth hitting each other, tongues imposing into territories that they were not welcome.  It wasn’t the worst kiss in the world, but it wasn’t the most memorable one either.

The next kiss is the one I like to regard as the first kiss.  We were intoxicated but not drunk.  We fell asleep together and when I woke up my head was resting against his chest, his arms wrapped around my body holding it against his.   His hand was stroking my skin, running up and down my upper arm.  I let my fingertips skip across his back, and through the stroking we pulled in closer.  I tilted my head up and our lips hovered near the other’s, but without touching.  When they did it wasn’t like before, rough and carnal.  This kiss was softer, and in that more intense.  It wasn’t a precursor to sex; it was a kiss because we felt like kissing.  The intensity of it increased as it kept going, and eventually he broke away.

I won’t lie and say that it was fireworks and music playing, but it was a good kiss.  A nice kiss.  A memorable kiss.


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