by ellbogen » Thu Jun 21, 2007 10:41 am
My first kiss with a boy is not worth telling.
Meanwhile, the story of my first kiss with a girl is a little on the trashy side and somewhat entertaining, so here goes...
Warning: R-rated material ahead.
First of all, I did not come out until a relatively late age, but at least I did, thanks in no small part to a girl named Laine.
I was teaching summer school (college), and she was in classes, though not any of mine (okay, so the story isn't *that* trashy...). As a grad assistant, I was 24, and as a non-trad aged undergrad, I think she was like 25. I noticed right away that I found her sophisticated and cool. She was about my height, nice figure, short red hair, funky-cool fashion sense. I ran into her at a party, and we sorta knew each other but hadn't talked much before. However, we discovered that we had the same taste in music, and we talked for what seemed like hours as the party went on around us. We ended up hanging out some after that.
A few days later we went for pizza with a friend of hers. I barely remember the friend because I was so transfixed on her and whateveritwas she was talking about. In particular, she told me about seeing a certain Magritte painting at the Chicago Art Institute, and how it moved her to tears. This sealed the deal. I realized that instant that I had a crush on her. Woah!
Granted I had long since acknowledged that I was on some level 'not straight,' and I had had crushes on girls before, but I always seemed to realize it in retrospect, never acknowledging it at the time it was occurring...
So more excuses to hang out, more hours of talking, we get along well, and then all of a sudden, she mentions some girlfriend she's had before. Turns out she was bi. My heart instantly starts pounding, alarm bells going off in my head, though I tried to play it cool. I might have even still pretended I was straight to her. But from that point I started freaking out about the fact that This Could Go Somewhere. But where? I honestly had no idea. This was totally unexplored territory, even in my mind. Can we say denial?
Jump a few days later to a bar and I've had a few drinks, and she shows up. We chat and whatnot some more. Then the bar closes and the party moves to her place, and by party I don't mean just us, but a large group. So I continue to knock back the drinks, people stick around for a while, but then slowly start to leave. Then it's just the two of us and a couple of other people, then just the two of us and this guy...
...and no, it's not going there. This story isn't *that* kind of trashy either.
So I am drunk, sitting there talking to her, the guy is still there but I keep hoping he'll leave. Suddenly, involuntarily, without my having any control over what was about to happen, my arm reached up and draped itself around her shoulder. And so I just kind of left it there, like hey, no big deal. I do this all the time, sure. The guy suddenly got uncomfortable and was like, ' Well, I guess I'll be leaving now.'
The second the door shut, she looks me right in the eye and says, "So would you like to spend the night?"
WHAT??? No really, that's what she asked. No joke.
All of the agonizing I had been doing about, 'what do I do now that I know I like her?' and 'what does this mean with regard to my sexuality?' and so forth... all of it just went poof. I'm sure the alcohol helped.
Without any pause for reflection whatsoever, I involuntarily start taking my shoes off and going for the lightswitch.
Please note here that, at 24, I had had sex exactly twice in my life at this point. Both times with boys, both times randomly, I'm guessing because that was my 'experimental' phase, now looking back. I had made out/fooled around with my share of guys as well, but generally either due to the influence of alcohol, friends, or the desire to be normal. None of it ever did much for me. But I can thank them for the kissing practice, which came in handy in this instance.
So here I am going for the lights, in the room of a girl who has just asked me to spend the night with her, and I'm not even really out to myself yet, not officially.
Instantly, we start making out, and by that I mean full-on, including tongue and over-clothes grope-age, rolling around on the bed, full-throttle heavy breathing in no time, no prelude whatsoever. It was like zero to hot-and-heavy in the space of what was probably like a minute tops.
At one point she stops and says, "I thought you didn't like girls." To which I said, "Well, it looks like I do." And then we continued with the hardcore making out.
Do I remember that moment of first contact between our lips? Not exactly. Happened way too fast to capture the moment. Was it romantic? Not even a little. Cause I was drunk. And hello, there was nothing sweet or cute about it.
Do I remember how I felt as I made out with her? Yes, vividly. It was as natural as breathing, and at the time, by far The Hottest Thing that had ever ever happened to me. I was totally into it, did not even have to think about what to do. It was just like yee-haw, let's get this show on the road. Instantly, I understood why people so enjoyed this activity. Up to that point I had kind of wondered what the big deal was.
What happened next, well, the memories get a little foggy. The last clear picture I have is of ... umm... looking up at her she's unbuttoning my shirt. Amend the above statement about The Hottest Thing Ever. Now this was. Unfortunately, it's all hazy after that. What I can tell you is that this incident apparently became clothing-optional at some point, so I discovered when I woke up.
At which point I totally freaked out. I'll spare you the 30-minute agony of "Do I wake her up before I leave, and if so, what do I say/do?" Let's just say it was awkward.
Basically, in the sober light of day, I had no idea how to deal with this development since it happened so fast. This event was so beyond my comprehension or my ability to deal, I kind of went into hiding for a few days not knowing how to proceed, either with her or with my life.
I saw her several nights later at the bar, followed by her leaving with some guy. Disappointment doesn't begin to cover it. At one point there was another party at her house at which I tried to stick around and see if I could talk to her, but it didn't happen. She didn't seem to care.
I was heartbroken in all my naivety, thinking that this might become some kind of relationship. Alas, this was not to be the case, but life went on.
Thanks to her, I finally sorted things out and came out as a lesbian a few months later. And I can thank her for a rockin' if not entirely romantic first girl-kiss/makeout/???.
I got my first legitimate girlfriend about 6-8 months later, and needless to say, I had more romantic experiences in that situation.
Be glad most of you are having your first girl-kisses at much younger ages. I would've probably been much better off if mine hadn't been quite so filled with "adult situations" with no warning.
Oh, and I don't drink anymore. You shouldn't either. It will mostly lead to incidents that are not worth posting about anywhere.
Awhile later, she said the expression on my face was a cross between those two smilies.
