Every now and then I like to go back through my old blog posts and pick out my favorites I like to call them my “Blast From the Past”. This is one I thought you’d find amusing. 🙂
Do you remember your first kiss? Ahh, I do. I’ve been hesitant to blog about it because it’s one of those memories you hold tight to. Not necessarily because it’s so special, but down-right embarrassing.
I was thirteen and spending the night at my grandparents. My uncle, who was only two years older than me, also had a friend staying the night. Ahh, he was a hottie as well as what I considered an older boy. Probably fourteen and a half! After everyone had gone to bed, I heard someone say my name at the door. He said he couldn’t sleep and wondered if I wanted to talk. Yup, we’d shared a bit of dialogue earlier along with a few long lingering stares, but neither of us wanted my uncle to know we were intrigued with each other.
After I crawled out of bed, and put on my jeans, we sought out a place to . . . chat. My grandparent’s house had this old rambling floor plan where the rooms were built on to the structure one by one. We sat on a sofa, in an odd sitting room connected to the bathroom–the only bathroom in the house. It was also the only room without sleeping family.
To say I was nervous, is like saying summers in Houston are little warm. I was practically in full-blown hive-making panic.
We sat there and chatted for a few moments. Actually he did most of the talking, I was speechless. Even though he appeared as unsure as I was, he leaned in, slowly, and his mouth touched mine. I felt his tongue brush across my bottom lip. All I could think was that my first kiss was going to include tongue. (Hey don’t you remember talking about this when you were 11 and 12?) I opened my mouth ever so slightly, because that’s what I’d heard I was supposed to do, and that’s when it happened. A hiccup exploded from my lips. Not a light, cute noise, either.
Nope. It was one that came right from the gut, pounces from the lips, and bounces off the walls. I mean, here was my first kiss, with an “older boy” too, and I got the nervous hiccups. Thank goodness he was sweet and said it wasn’t a problem.
After a few minutes of chatting (well, he did most of the chatting, I was too scared to open my mouth for fear another obnoxious sound would bounce out) he tried again to kiss me. His mouth drew near, his lips touched mine, and this time, the noise that exploded into the room wasn’t my hiccup. Nope, it was my granddad clearing his throat. And I should add that, with the exception of his worn-out whitie-tighties, Grandpa was naked and his old-man gut hung over the edge of the weak elastic of his Hanes.
Older boy and I just sat there on that sofa and stared at my grandfather staring at us. I opened my mouth to say something smart, something like, we were just talking, or something else equally unconvincing since he’d just witnessed the beginning of a kiss, but all that came out was another LOUD hiccup. Cute, older boy, shot up from the sofa and ran back to his bed, and I did the same.
Yup, my first-kiss memory could have been a tad better. Thanks goodness I managed to snag a few better kisses later on. And in spite of the fact that I had a less-than-desirable first kiss experience, I do love writing first kisses.
I’m writing a new Christie Craig book. It’s a bit different, but I can’t wait to get to the first kiss. Who knows, I may make my poor heroine hiccup.
So what about you? Do you have first kiss story to share?