Writing Exercise - First Kiss

[TarnishedPenny]

What on earth, what in memory can be sweeter, more memorable than one’s first kiss? It’s heartbeats and shortness of breath and where-do-I-put-my-nose hesitancy, all 9r which fade away into shared breath, shared happiness.

The usual rules apply, of course. It only has to be a snippet, even a snapshot. No introduction is needed, nor a conclusion. Keep it short, say 200-300 words. Don't write anything that wouldn't get published on the story side: especially nothing underage. Pray stick to the spirit of the site's rules.

I’ll start off, a snippet from my It Started With A Unicorn:

As I was coming back a minute later with a tray of empty glasses, I leaned in to gave her a kiss in passing, a friendly peck. I'd aimed for a cheek, but a glass started sliding and trying to correct for it put my lips in perfect alignment with hers. My eyes closed at their soft touch. It was so nice, so very gentle, so very certain, so unlike the bristly, inept kisses of those boys who had managed to get that far in my life.

It didn't last long. She broke first, looking at me. I pulled back, blushing furiously. At least I hadn't dropped the tray...

The smile changed to a wicked grin.

"I like the way you say 'thank you', Sydney."

Her eyes locked onto mine, confident as a cat. My blush deepened.

Sure, I'd kissed other women. Just about every girl has tried it, maybe at a party or something, just to see how it feels. Then it had been fun, had set my mind wandering. Now, more than just my mind was racing.

And this wasn't a teen party in a friend's parent's basement, with a dozen other people my age laughing and applauding, knowing that the kiss wouldn't go anywhere. Shannon was a mature woman, strong and powerful in her own right.

I looked away, shivered a little. Aside from being afraid Shannon would laugh at how hard my heart was beating, I was totally confused. I had liked it, that much I knew.

Your turn!

 

[PapaRomantic]

"Not again - are you making another TikTok video?"

She giggled - why at 18 does she still giggle like a 6th grader?

"Come on," she replied with a smile. "This one won't be bad, I promise you."

She got the video camera app opened, and was now fiddling with the tripod to make sure the phone was set at the best angle. Satisfied that it was perfect, she started the video. I was looking at the phone and could see she was grinning as she gave her silly little wave that was a trademark of all her videos.

She didn't say anything, however. Instead, she turned to look at me, and then back to the camera. She did the same thing again, and when she did it the third time, I turned to look at her. And then it happened...she leaned over to me and gave me a longer-than-quick kiss on the lips. I knew instantly it was the "best friends kiss challenge" that was so popular.

And then I discovered something else - it was amazing! Her lips were soft, and she smelled so good being that close to me. She stopped the kiss and leaned back, and when I saw the little half smile and the look of nervous anticipation at how I was going to react, I think I surprised her (and myself!) when I pulled her into another kiss, this time with our tongues dancing together.

We broke the kiss again. The shock on her face was evident as she stopped the video. She looked back at me again.

I said, "If you really meant that, do it again with the camera off."

She must have meant it because she kissed me again. It was clear that we were apparently expanding on our "best friends" relationship.

 

[Erozetta]

"He doesn't deserve you," John said. There was no malice in his voice, no judgment. Just a blanket statement of fact from his perspective.

He was lying on the grass beside me, looking up at a full, red-toned moon, which appeared much larger than normal. I'd been looking at it, too, but his comment drew my attention to him.

"And you do?" I asked with a slight chuckle.

He shook his head. "No. I'm a lot like him, that's how I know he doesn't deserve you."

I considered his comments. "What makes you think that?"

He cleared his throat, still staring at the moon. "You're better than us. Look out for people, care about them. Chris and I? Our wants come first. We care, but it's secondary, not natural like it is for you."

"That's not true," I said before lifting my gaze back to the moon.

"Sure it is. You put everyone else first."

I laughed lightly. "Not what I meant. It's not natural for me. I make myself care about other people because it's what I was told I was supposed to do. I suppress my instincts and make myself do what's expected of me."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"Such as?"

I smiled. The only thing that had been on my mind since I got in his car was kissing him. But it wasn't appropriate, we were only friends.

He turned and looked at me, lifting onto his arm and moving closer to me. "Cass? What instincts do you have to suppress?"

I lay my hand on his jaw and pressed my lips tightly to his. He moaned and I took advantage, slipping my tongue past his parted lips. John's response was delayed, but once he realized I was open to it, he reciprocated. His hand on my hip pulled me closer and his tongue danced with mine. We both moaned and caressed the other in a gentle acceptance.

It wasn't a first kiss in the purest of senses, we'd both kissed people many times before. But it was our first kiss, and I hoped it wouldn't be our last.

 

[SimonDoom]

We were at her place, at nighttime, having spent most of the day on a long strenuous hike up a mountain. Our second date. We had met on an online dating service a couple weeks earlier. Still getting to know one another. I had picked her up at her house on the way to the trailhead, and intended to drop her off, but she invited me to stay and have dinner. I wasn't going to say "no." She cooked steaks on a grill and made a salad.

We were still getting to know each other, and I couldn't quite read her. I don't think she could quite read me either. There was an air of tentativeness and uncertainty between us. But when I had stood on top of the mountain with her, hours earlier, in the middle of our hike, I had felt a powerful surge of desire to kiss her. But I hadn't. I'd been kicking myself ever since.

Now, in her backyard, she turned the steaks over on the grill, wearing black athletic shorts that exposed her trim, smooth legs. A form-fitting sporty top showed off her thin but curvy figure. Blonde hair spilled over her shoulders.

She walked away from the grill, toward me. I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't know how she would act, but to hell with it. I took her in my arms, looked her in the eyes, and then I kissed her.

She cooed, with obvious surprise and delight. I will never forget that sound, or that moment. Our first kiss. A perfect kiss. I'm pretty sure she liked it almost as much as I did.


This is a true story.

 

[mrs_mackenzie]

It had been a strange feeling at the party when I saw my best friend and my boyfriend together. It was a stupid game everyone was playing; the girl sits on the guy’s lap and the guy sees if he can undo her bra through her shirt. He had triumphed and she was laughing, but they were still pressed together. I was jealous.

I’d tried to reclaim him; hot kisses in the kitchen when he went to get a refill, offering myself to him, dragging him off to a bedroom. But we’d met her on the way and she’d guessed what we were doing, and when she’d invited herself along I hadn’t actually said no.

Now he’d undone her bra again but she wasn’t wearing a shirt, and I felt powerless not to watch as he sucked her tits. They were bigger than mine; sexier. Secretly I’d wanted to see them for years. But not like this, not when they were taking my boyfriend away.

He lifted his head up, her nipple hard and wet.

“Come over here and kiss her.”

My eyes met hers as I moved. Was it fear or disgust in her expression? Or was it…

Our first kiss was everything I had ever dreamt it would be. Soft lips. Warm breath. Her hair falling and brushing against my cheek. Full of hidden desire.

 

[StillStunned]

“Do you remember the first time we kissed?”

Mick smiled. “How could I ever forget? It was spring, a day just like today, and the prettiest girl in the world was laughing at all my jokes.”

They were lying in the grass. Holly’s head was resting on his chest, her fingers idly stroking the curly hairs. “I was pretty, wasn’t I?”

“And I was funny.”

They both sighed, then laughed at the same time. Mick reached down and pulled Holly up until she was lying on top of him, her face level with his. Her red hair spilled across her shoulders, hiding the sun behind a curtain of gold.

“I was waiting all afternoon for you to kiss me.” Her chin was resting on her hands so she could look at him. “Trying to get you away from our friends, so we could have a moment to ourselves.”

“Boys aren’t very good at taking hints, I suppose.” He thought back. “Was that why you suggested I go with you to get more wine?”

“Of course, silly! I wasn’t so weak that I couldn’t carry two bottles by myself.”

“Damn. So we wasted three whole hours?”

“You wasted them. If you’d just kissed me then instead of waiting until you walked me home.”

“In my defence–”

“No defence! Three whole hours I had to wait. I was beginning to think you didn’t want to kiss me.”

“In my defence,” he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted him, “the mini-market wasn’t the most romantic setting. And,” he went on, raising his voice slightly as she opened her mouth, “and the pond by your house was. Aren’t you happy our first kiss was under the setting sun, not fluorescent lighting?”

He could see her pretending to consider it. “I suppose so.” She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, defence accepted.”

“Thank you.” He raised his head until their lips were touching. “For what it’s worth, though, I do regret those three hours of not kissing you.”

 

[TheRedChamber]

With apologies to Terry Bisson.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Oh my God! She’s made of meat!

It’s the Fresher’s Week disco and I’m taking a break between songs. I’ve sat down on one of the few unoccupied plastic chairs. She’s said hi and asked if I have a fag. I’ve apologized. Then suddenly and without warning, she’s moved in for a snog.

And the surprise of this is nothing compared with the surprise of realizing that women are actually made of meat.

Who knew?

Nominally, I did. But I also feel that a millennia of poets and song writers have skirted around this core issue. Her lips are supposed to taste like Cherry Cola. They don’t. Not even remotely. Instead, her tongue, now firmly in contact with my own, tastes of...well, tongue.

The meat hasn’t even been glazed with cherries. It’s just fleshy.

It has, however, been well marinaded in alcohol and smoked in tobacco.

Her mouth is warm and wet. Those poets, not entirely remiss, have on occasion hinted at this warmth and this wetness. When you get down to it, however, that wetness is saliva. Spit in other words. Not warm so much as exactly at body temperature.

This is all way more biological than I’d been imagining. Sugar and spice, my arse!

As she attacks me, it occurs to me that my first kiss is being stolen for me. I had been saving it for Katie Brunswick, although I’d never told her that and if I had done, she would probably have replied not to be fussed on her account. She’s gone north to uni and I’ve gone south, so I’m guessing it’s moot now.

That is probably for the best. Now Katie Brunswick will remain forever an ethereal creature – an angel, all sublime grace and angles and as delicate as a butterfly. It never had occurred to me that she was made of meat.

Ice, possibly. Never meat!

This one, the one whose name I will soon pause and clarify, is clearly all flesh and blood. And she smells - not of roses or lavender - not even of sweat, though since she’s been on that dance floor, there’s plenty of that. No, suddenly Al Pacino is making a lot more sense - the Scent of a Woman. This! Right here! Except it’s not a scent as from a flower, it’s a pheromone excreted from a sweat gland. Wherever it is from, it’s suddenly taking up the whole of my consciousness.

To be honest, it’s all a bit of a shock. The women in my treasured and tattered copy of Hustler weren’t made of meat. This will take some getting used to. Still, when you get down to it, be it steak, sausages, chicken or rack of lamb, I've always liked the taste of meat.

So, I don’t really have anything to complain about.

 

[Erozetta]

Katie cursed as she tried and tried to get the engine to turn over. Luckily, the guys hadn't left yet, so while we screamed in both excitement and frustration as we tried to pull the cover back over her open top jeep, they sat dry and happy in their big silver sedan.

"Fuck! I think I'm outta gas,” she said.

"You said you had a quarter of a tank, that should've been plenty to get to the lake and back," I shouted at her as thunder crashed overhead.

She pointed at the gauge, the last line of the markings before the E. "Yeah, that's a quarter, right?"

I scowled. "That's an eighth. Count the markings, Miss Valedictorian."

She did, her cheeks flushed with each mark. "Fuck. We have to ask them for a ride to the gas station."

I looked over, they were grinning watching us. "I'll do it," I said before looking back at Katie and Trish. "They might take a little mercy on the sweet and innocent one.”

Both of my friends glared.

I bucked up my courage and got out of the jeep, then ran across the parking lot to the car full of boys. James rolled down the passenger window. "Yes?" Jeff said, leaning over from the driver's seat.

"Jeep is out of gas, could y'all give me a ride to the gas station, pretty please?" My wide eyes exaggerated my plea.

Jeff glanced into the backseat. "We're full up."

Josh and Mike laughed as I shivered from the cold rain.

"Can't one of y'all stay?"

“No,” Jeff retorted.

“You're really gonna leave us stranded here?”

Tom leaned forward and whispered something, Jeff grinned and glanced back. “Alright, I’ll give you a ride, for a kiss.”

I didn't even hesitate. “Yeah, fine.” I leaned through the window, my hand pressed to James’s thigh for balance and put my other hand on Jeff's cheek, holding him as I strained to reach. James and Jeff pulled me into the car and I shivered as Jeff pulled away.

it was my first kiss, and I was in over my head as the car tore out of the parking lot.

 

[shelleycat1]

What do I remember? The anticipation, the nervousness of consent. Would she want to? We were close and leaning together, having been for a walk along the lanes of Lancashire. I recall standing by a gate in a track, pausing to open it; I'm sure it was a warmish day in summer.

Then I leaned closer to her face, hesitantly, looking for a sign. Janey didn't pull back and she looked so directly at me.

The kiss itself. No, I don't remember it.

"I was wondering when you would do that," she said with a half grin.

I had the confidence then, and we kissed a second and then a third time, leaning in towards each other, with our hands trying to pull us closer.

I smiled back looking slightly down at her heart shaped face, blue eyes and smile. We walked on, back towards the farmhouse. We might have chatted, we might have just been silent in each other's company.

A specific kiss, sorry. That's lost among the twenty thousand kisses since.

And the many kisses to others, our first kisses to a child (I don't remember those either, but do recall that baby smell), and our grandchildren (they get lots of kisses when they are little.)

I read once that we remember by telling ourselves stories, and the act of recall rewrites the story. The story has been rewritten many times and if I asked her, she would remember it differently.

 

[onehitwanda]

“No, nevermind,” she whispered. “It's not fair to burden you with that. It's just... I'm different. Too different to be... able to hide who I really am. I will be married, and then I will embarrass my husband, and I will be shut up in some country house far from anyone I hold dear, there to watch the winters come one after another until I simply give up.”

“You are a fighter. I don't think that will be your fate.”

She laughed, a mirthless little snort.

“I will be nothing,” she continued. “Better they'd caught me and killed me.”

“No!”

She jerked in surprise at my exclamation.

I shoved myself forward, forced myself in closer to her.

“Do you know what death is?” I said. She drew breath; I pressed my finger to her lips. “No. Shush. I'll tell you. Death is being three days old in the grass as the sun slowly bakes you. Death is being in a spiral dive, on fire, with no escape and no way to save yourself. Death is the absence of choice. You have choices. You are young, you are strong, you are brave. You will make good of any situation you find yourself in.”

“That almost sounds like a compliment,” she whispered. I removed my finger from her lips.

“It was meant to be,” I answered her.

She stared up at me. Then she took my hand in hers and put it to her cheek. I shuddered, took a shaky breath.

“You shiver when I touch you,” she whispered. “Why?”

“It's... cold...” I managed.

“I don't think it's that at all. I think it's something else.”

She uncrossed her legs and leaned in closer to me. Her fingers curled behind my jaw, caressing me unbearably gently. Her eyes flicked from mine down to my lips, she swallowed and shifted ever so slightly forward on her seat.

I leaned in a short distance more, heart hammering like mad in my chest, trying to understand what was going on, whether this was... was happening or whether I was simply misinterpreting... as I always...

“Don't be scared of me,” she breathed. Her fingers moved slowly around my neck to the back of my head and curled into my hair.

We stared at one another for a moment longer. Then she closed her eyes, and leaned in, and, with a sigh, kissed me.

 

[MK_Whimsy]

My first kiss was an anomaly among first kisses. It was unique in that after you kissed me, I still didn't quite know what being kissed was like. Unusual, sure, but maybe my life was always to be somewhat atypical.

I remember watching you from my standing position, a shiny black ball gag stuffing my mouth and my wrists handcuffed behind my back. I had been bad. You had to "arrest" me. I writhed in place as you looked over my helpless form, my leash wrapped around your hand, obviously feeling a sense of pride in your handiwork.

Oh, you were right to do it. I admit it. I know I deserved it. In fact, I was kind of hoping you would catch me. You should know, however, that even today, I still haven't changed a bit.

Afterwards, you held me for a few moments, reassuringly stroking my hair as I wormed in place against your body, my trapped hands fidgeting behind me as the excitement in me grew.

I was nervous. Were you? I'm pretty sure you were, a little bit.

Then, you leaned in and kissed me, right on the surface of that gag. Was just a quick peck. I could not return the kiss, though I'm sure you could hear the muffled noise I made while my lips made a vain effort to close around its protruding, round surface anyway.

So I could not feel your lips, and I could not kiss back. How unfair. But I did shut my eyes. Maybe you saw that. Either way, you certainly could not have seen the warmth that shot through my body and how that manifested.

But believe me, it was there.

 

[Lifestyle66]

First Kiss

“I think it’s time to leave,” I said noticing the empty restaurant.

Five hours!

I expected a short first date with an online dating nerd. But the handsome guy sitting with me was certainly no nerd! He answered all of my questions. He even brushed off my attempt to split the check, insisting on paying for dinner.

We stepped outside the restaurant and slowly walked along the sidewalk. I was now dreading the end of this first date. And we hadn’t yet kissed, the next step in my quest for Mister Right. I paused asking “Where are you parked?”

“Over there,” he replied, pointing to the far end of the parking lot.

“If I walk you to your car, would you give me a ride to mine?”

“Sure. Where are you parked?” he asked.

“Right here,” I said pointing to the car in front of us.

He smiled, taking my hand, guiding me to his car, where he held the passenger door open. Once in the driver’s seat, he started the car and turned on a smooth jazz playlist.

He leaned toward me, as I leaned in for our lips to meet. It was soft, not rushed, not forceful, but patiently waiting for me. His moist lips opened slightly. I tentatively touched them with my tongue meeting his as we began that wrestling, exploring, as we both wanted more!

This was perfect!

Seconds passed, stretching into a minute, until he broke the kiss, saying “Wow. “You’re catching my attention.”

“What do you mean?”

He moved my left hand to his thigh, where I felt a stiff protrusion. Sliding my hand along it, I asked, “Would you like another glass of wine? I have a bottle at home.”

There’s only one more question on my mind, What’s he like in bed?

 

[BearNextDoor]

Oh, two hundred words. Not two thousand words.

Shoot.

Well, here's mine anyway.
https://www.literotica.com/s/waiting-for-the-ferry

Cheers!