“Kissing is a means of getting two people so close together that they can’t see anything wrong with each other.” – Rene Yasenek
The first kiss; that wonderful moment of exploration, the thrill of first contact and even better that single moment of anticipation just before your lips meet.
I love the build up to the first kiss, who doesn’t? The will-he, won’t-he game through the evening, and then the final satisfaction as his lips press to yours. Of course, in all our fantasies this kiss is perfect. Your knees tremble and in your heart glimmers a new certainty that this is “the one”.
In reality… while your focus is on the kiss – he is trying to get to second base and suddenly you realise your romantic Paris postcard is in fact a snog with a drunk who’s hands are very publicly trying to make their way inside your bra.
Of course, there are those truly magical first kisses, the start of something wonderful. These I have learned about through movies or song lyrics. A good kiss in the world of Elizabeth Rose rarely remains just that – largely as my libido takes control shortly after and if he hasn’t already got his hand inside my bra, I’ve taken it off and am clambering bodily on him. I try not to engage in first kisses in public these days – partly as I’m no longer allowed on the TTC.
5 Comments
Comment by Demure Lemur — February 4, 2010 @ 1:53 pm
My best first kiss with anyone had to be at a fancy dress party when I was about nineteen. I was dressed as a hula girl, and the fella was playing in the band. My chat up line was – you’re not dressed up, can I paint your face?. This was not an aphorism for kissing. I actually had face paints. He agreed and I made him a tiger. I showed him his reflection in my pocket mirror and he said ‘Raar’ and pounced on me. The kiss was half funny half sexy. I heard his mates in the background saying ‘I feel like I’m watching porn. Really weird porn’. When we surfaced we were both all smathered in orange and white and black and laughing. It was cool. But in general, first kisses: over-rated. The best ones come later on.
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Comment by rur — February 8, 2010 @ 1:58 am
My best first kiss was a quick peck on the lips when a date took me home.
Actually it was a stolen kiss, but the nice warm feel lingered long after that.
He was startled, I was even more startled. He was confused, he enjoyed it. I was busy cussing myself, and enjoyed it as well.
Leave that to the good 2nd base.
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Comment by Shans — February 12, 2010 @ 9:45 am
My best kiss was not a first kiss but a goodbye kiss… infinitely more sexy.
I was 17, we met in Italy on a school trip his class suddenly joined ours for the remainder of the tour around the country… at first I hated him (isn’t that how all epic romances start?) and then we were walking back to our hotel from dinner in Rome and we talked all the way back… I was young and in love (but even then I had a bit of a wild streak).
As I went back to my room my roommate for the trip, and still my hetero-life-partner, acknowledged my comment of “Oh, he’s actually really sweet!” with her own “Great! Don’t sleep with him.”
Obviously I slept with him… more than once in fact (blame the romance of Italy and my Catholic upbringing).
The kiss that had the most passion, the most heat was a surprise – at 4am in the Rome airport I waved Goodbye and he pulled me in for the kiss… and still to this day I have not had a sexier kiss… I recommend that everyone go say goodbye to someone at an airport straight away.
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Comment by Skye Blue — February 12, 2010 @ 3:38 pm
Obviously I slept with him… more than once in fact (blame the romance of Italy and my Catholic upbringing).
Classic Shans, classic.
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Comment by Sam Sharpe — February 12, 2010 @ 5:29 pm
@ Shans & Skye
Catholics get the blame (or should that be credit?) for everything it seems.
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