I remember the first time he kissed me. We had been standing in the comfort and discomfort of his dark bedroom after a day at the mall with friends. I had gone inside in "search of a trashcan", which really means I was wondering if he was gonna try to kiss me. Not that we'd known each other long and not that we liked each other. It was just a kiss.
I had walked into the darkness as our friends looked on from the couch in the other room. It took him a minute to follow me, which increased my heart rate to the extreme. I later learned he was shy -- but only in that one moment.
He strolled up to me causally and took my face within his hands, cupping it in that sweet way. And I had stood on my tiptoes since he was so tall, being almost two years older and all. It was a closed mouth kiss, the kind you'd share after a first date. But still, even in all its simplicity, it meant so much more. It meant that everything was about to change.
I remember the first time I made out with her. It was over Christmas break, which is funny considering I think that's when I actually first met her. But anyway, all us teens had been watching a movie upstairs at my place.
And of course, darkness leads to ... other things. I kept leaning into her neck during the movie and her face obviously read she wanted it. So I convinced her to come back into my bedroom, steps away from the movie room.
Just so she'd feel more comfortable, I kept the door open -- knowing good and well it would make it so unfortunately difficult to get her clothes off. Not that everyone in the other room could see us; she just didn't seem easy enough for that. We started standing up but let's face it: I'm pretty tall and that makes everyone else short.
She stood almost directly in front of my bed, so a hand pushing her shoulder back was all it took to get her to lay down with me. I was slightly worried about putting too much weight onto her tiny self, so I held my body over hers.
Her head lay on my pillow, leaving a sweet scent I later didn't want to be rid of. Her hands were against my back, trailing up and down as my hands trailed all over her body. I'm a guy, I couldn't help it.
I remember her once saying she didn't like tongue for some reason I don't remember and so I decided to try it since these small kisses were getting slightly boring. I eased it in slowly and immediately felt her recoil. I could tell she didn't want any tongue but I figured if I did it long enough she'd give up on stopping. So true. Minutes later, she was tonguing back even though I could tell she didn't want to. One of the many reasons I kind of like being bigger, and stronger. Not that I would do anything to ever hurt her. And that actually becomes one of our three month issues.
But anyway, as we continued to kiss I felt the urge to push on. I really wanted to know if she'd let me get into her pants -- in the literal sense, not completely sexual. I guess. Slowly, I touched around once in a while and she didn't stop me. But as soon as I started on the buttons and zipper, she did.
"Um, later." Her voice was nervous and I instantly felt bad, making a promise to not push her on. Until later. Whatever that meant.