Before you ask, yes, this is a true story. That is why it's under the "True Confessions" section. You may laugh, if you'd like, because this occurred on February 17, 2002, which is a little more than five months until my 21st birthday. You may also be puzzled as to how I've written so many stories and yet never been kissed until now.
But that's for an explanation at a later time.
You might be intrigued to know that I basically met him through this site. I'm too afraid of giving in ... So the kisses were all that happened, and then I ended it. Yes, I AM somewhat of a headcase, thank you for asking.
Damn, he was a good kisser, and so hot, too, and supposedly totally bejingled ... But alas, I was never to find out because, well, I'm a chicken.
<3, Chrys
He had his face pressed to my cheek.
I'd been there for almost five hours. His roommate was gone finally, back into his bedroom, singing Leanne Rimes songs to himself.
The movie had been good, but the real drama was how we moved closer together on the couch, almost imperceptably, but inch by inch. Then finally, I nestled myself into the crook of his arm.
Of course, it was one of those stupid, awkward things where both of you are so relieved that the other one is pressed up against you that you're trying hard to ignore the shooting pain in your arm and leg from the uncomfortableness of the position just so you don't scare the other person away. But soon I couldn't stand the thought of the blood loss to my extremities and I repositioned myself and it was comfortable.
But that time had passed, and there we were.
I'd always thought I'd overthink it--what about the nose? What about my tongue? What about breathing?
"It's as natural as breathing," someone should have told me. I don't remember worrying about any of that while it was happening, just feeling--
I knew I wouldn't get out of there without kissing him, which made me feel safely trapped. Warm inside, happy. I was afraid it would be awkward, perhaps as I was standing at the door to leave. But he wasn't going to wait for the end of the date, if that's what this was--and I was relieved.
Gently, he kissed my cheek. I was paralyzed for a second, fear almost creeping up on me, but then I had no choice, and my head was turning, and his lips were upon me.
I thought of nothing. Nothing but him and how he felt and how he smelled and how comfortable it was.
I broke the kiss, turned away, watching the TV as though there was something actually interesting on.
A few minutes later, there it was again.
This time, I could feel his tongue, gently finding its way across my lips--not too far, only enough to make me want more. In the future, when we kiss, I want to pull his tongue into my mouth, suck on it, taste it deeply, but I was too afraid right then. I didn't know what I wanted. It occurred as I once more broke the kiss that my tongue had stayed safely planted in my mouth. That I had no idea what to do with it.
I had trouble finding my way out of his apartment. Colors were blurry and I felt drunk. But it was time for me to go, I knew that much. Too, too late. I'd stayed too, too long, and when I got home, though I knew it not then, it would be hours before I could wind down to go to sleep.
I concentrated on my coat, one arm, the other arm, the door, here we are, leaving. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. "See you tomorrow," he said, and I turned to leave.
As I turned the engine on, I could feel his lips on me, still, though he was yards away, safely tucked into his apartment. As I pulled out of the parking space, I ran my tongue over my lips, tasting him still, his sweetness.
I blushed, embarrassed. I am a good girl. What would someone say if they saw me? I felt like I was wearing him all over me--and that was just from a kiss. I wondered how merely having a person's arms around my shoulders could induce the ache between my legs that became more acute as the night went on. When I kissed him, I could literally feel the liquid seeping into the tiny square of my thong and the terrible ache that begged for release. If only--
Then I realized this was only for me. I didn't have to be embarrassed. No one else ever had to ever know about it.
And so I thought about all the things two human bodies could do to one another as I sucked him into my mouth, licking my lips until I couldn't taste him anymore.