when i was still a proud member of the vl {virgin lips} club i completely romanticized kissing. after my first {rape} kiss i was all bent out of shape because kissing was, in my 17 year old opinion, ga-rosssss!
how could you blame me for thinking such a terrible thing when i wiped slober off my face (no joke) and yelled with disdain at my first-- "you kissed me!!!"
true story.
i cried on my big brother's protective shoulder that night, for quite some time. my whole vision of rose petals and sweetness had been violated by a gross boy's tongue, and my hope for future kissing and foot-popping was detonated.
i no longer think kissing is repulsive. i rather enjoy it, even if it is still a weird concept.
case in point:
a boy once tried to kiss me. while swinging. he leaned and i leaned, til the chains were taught and rigid. he leaned some more. our lips nearly met, with the black plastic digging into our respective hips, our eyes closed, and then... there was a *thunk*, a skiddering of playground pebbles, and him lying at my feet, disoriented.
i laughed for a solid minute.
note: we did not try that endeavor again.
2nd case in point:
i once was kissing a {different} boy. on a couch. because that's typically where cuddling progresses to kissing. as he was leaning on one arm, it slipped. off the couch, completely. he made a noise akin to "ooo-uhhmph!" and tumbled down, taking me with him. like jack and jill we both fell down, crashing with a dull thud. i was immobilized by giggling. he tried to set the mood again but since i literally could not stop snickering, that was the end of that.
kissing can be oh so adventurous.
i will kiss and tell any day. that is, if it's a good story to tell.
do you have any kissing stories to tell??
do share!
por favor y gracias.
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