My first kiss story...is well, a little pathetic. I would like to say that it was a romantic, knee melting moment, but I would be lying.
In 8th grade a boy named Cam asked me to "go with him." Isn't that such an inane term? Not quite as clever as today's "going out"...but still. I liked Cam as a friend, but nothing more. I turned him down. The next several days he was so depressed that I started to feel really badly for him. So, I told his brother that if Cam asked me again I would say yes. Pity is always a great foundation for a strong relationship...tip from me to you!
The next day Cam asked me again and I said yes. For a couple of weeks the relationship consisted of hand-holding and listening to him moan on the phone that he wished he were smarter. Everything a girl could hope for. The problem was, spring break was coming up and I knew that Cam wanted a kiss good-bye. I had the typical concerns: "Will I do it right?" "Will he have bad breath?" "Will I have bad breath?" "Do I really have to kiss this boy I don't like?" I did kiss that boy I didn't really like (more than a friend). It was more like a mini-make out session where I was merely focusing on it not being awkward and hoping for an "A" in technique.
At 17 I finally had that knee melting, breath taking, head spinning kiss. Technique never crossed my mind, but that's another story.