My First Kiss

The stork dropped me at the doorstep of a family filled to the brim with crazy. My Father detested any display of affection, calling it a sign of weakness. My Mom was raised to think of affection as something only those” faggoty tree huggers” did. This was, of course, passed down to their children, but it stuck to me with more vigor than my brothers.

I avoided hugging or kissing anyone, except the one time my grandma forced me to kiss her leathery cheek. I ran to my room, crying hysterically. It took my Mom two days to get me to come out. Needless to say, my ascension up the pubescent teenage ladder was atypical. I didn’t spend my time chasing girls due to my distaste for any kind of human contact. It’s not that I didn’t want girls; I was just terrified of their cooties.

Due to my deep-seated intimacy issues, I only had three attempts at my first kiss:

The first attempt, I was thirteen and her name was Missy. The first and only time she tried, I took off running like Nicole Ritchie from a cheese sandwich. She decided to get even by telling the entire neighborhood that I liked boys. Man, it took me awhile to live that one down; kids can be really cruel and clever.

The second attempt came when I was a freshman in high school. Her name was Christy and she made the mistake of thinking I was cute so she asked me for my phone number. We went steady for a short while; if sporadic phone calls and sitting next to each other in the lunchroom constituted going steady. She did get a kiss; unfortunately it was from a guy named Greg. It didn’t take her long to figure out my quirkiness, so she, like Missy before decided revenge was a dish best served hot. She decided to attach the word virgin to my name…Jayson the Virgin. In high school, this was much worse than being called gay. The ironic thing was 75% of those idiots that called me names were probably virgins themselves.

For the next two years I sat around listening to love ballads, my favorite was “I Want to Know What Love Is” by Foreigner. I just sunk deeper and deeper into a teenage depression. My only escape was basketball. It was also the only time I interacted with other kids and played the role of the typical teenager.

My third attempt didn’t happen until my senior year in high school. I transferred to a tiny school in the country named Eagleville High. It was a fresh start for me, a way to reinvent myself and try to erase the stigma attached to me at my previous school.

It worked too; I was popular right off the bat. Everyone talked about the new kid, the unbalanced trouble maker with the amazing basketball skills. The rumor circulating the halls recounted how a roughed up principal, at a big city school sent the young ruffian to their school in cow country.

Of course the rumors weren’t true; I was kicked out for being drunk and passing out during shop class. I didn’t care though because everyone clamored to be my friend. My reinvention was taking shape. I even joined the basketball team. Things started looking up for the virgin with intimacy issues.

I still remember the first time I saw her, it was in Spanish class. I was scanning the classroom, looking for my next attempt at my first kiss:

I see a girl with white blonde hair that has a Medusa thing going on. She’s wearing a Def Leopard shirt, stone washed jeans and Converse tennis shoes. She looks at me and winks with a kooky grin stuck to her face. Nope, I don’t like Def Leopard.

Hello hottie. A girl in the second row grabs my attention. She has straight, shoulder length blonde hair with a nice shaped little body and…hey wait a …an Adam’s apple. It’s a dude. Damn heavy metal. Nope, contrary to what Missy said, I don’t like guys.

A chubby girl is staring me up and down, with a bad attempt at a sexy grin tattooed to a tiny corner of her face. Her skin is stretched tight to her face, and her teeth look like tiny pieces of dirty corn. The mere thought of her grotesque mouth caused my eyes to wonder back towards the dude with the sexy hair. Nope, I need to go brush my teeth.

Now we’re talking. I spot the winner sitting in the front, across from the teacher’s podium. She has a pile of books on her desk being used for cover to lean over and talk to a geeky kid. Her hair is simple with little brown curls. She has freckles that form her cheeks perfectly, with a smile that lights up the entire room. I waited for her to look at me, but she didn’t give in. I was enamored from that moment on.

My lack of experience was keeping me from approaching her. I would just stare at her from a distance, like a man at a strip club who runs out of one dollar bills. I had no idea how to approach her, or even what to say if by chance we bumped into each other.

A few weeks passed before we finally talked. I remember it well. It was the night of our first game and we were playing Laverne High School. We beat them by 15 points, thanks in large part to me scoring 27 points. Everyone was talking about Jayson, the crowned savior of Eagleville basketball.

After the game we are all standing outside the bus, when I see the scorekeeper, Mrs. Blackwell walking towards me and following closely behind her is Emily. My first thought is to run but I can’t get my legs to move.

Mrs. Blackwell says, “Great game Jayson. Have you met my daughter, Emily? Aren't you two in the same class?"

I shoot a quick glance in Emily's direction. "Ummm....yes maam. How are you?"

“You’re an amazing player. Don’t you think Emily?” She winks at me to let me know she’s trying to get Emily in the conversation. I do believe she is attempting to set us up.

“Yea,” Emily says. She is standing behind her mom with a smile of embarrassment. Of course all I can muster is a meek thank you.

But at that moment I started to relax because I realized she liked me too. We ended up sitting together on the bus and talking the entire three hour trip back to school. Two days later I asked her to go steady.

Everything was going good, but I wondered how long before my intimacy issues would chase her away too. It had been two weeks with no physical contact. I figured she was waiting for me to make the first move, so I did everything I could to avoid it. She would pull in my driveway and I would jump out before the car came to a stop; telling her I was late and my Mom was going to kill me if I didn’t get in the house. I knew eventually she would figure out my Mom wasn’t even home yet.

I would make up excuses for not being able to go out on weekends by telling her my Mom grounded me. Maybe I would be able to pull it off until we got married. It gave me enough time to work my way up the affection ladder. At the time, I was reluctantly holding her hand. Next would be hand kissing and then the cheek. But Murphy’s Law states "Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong."

One Saturday morning, Emily calls my house. Normally I’d pick up the phone before anyone else answered it. But since my Mom’s Saturday morning ritual consisted of making us reorganize our clothes drawers, I was in the middle of folding clothes when the phone rings. A couple minutes go by and I can hear Mom still talking, so I go back to folding.

About a minute later, “Jayson, phone,” Mom yells. My heart starts to pound and my face is heating up like I’m in a tanning bed.

“Coming,” my voice cracks. I just knew it was Emily, and it was her that Mom was talking to. What did they talk about? I bet she told her about my issues?

I get to kitchen, where the phone is, and Mom says, “It’s for you.” She has a disgusted look on her face.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” She hands me the phone and continues to stand there.

“Ummm…hello.”

“Hey Jay, your Mom is so sweet.” All I manage is a yea because Mom is staring at me.

“She said you can go out tonight. Isn’t that great?”

“Heck yea,” I say with sarcastic excitement. I look at Mom; she rolls her eyes and walks away.

“Great, well I will come pick you up tonight at seven,” she said. She was so excited that I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I have issues and the night would probably end with her calling me gay or telling all her friends that I am a virgin.

“Okay, I can’t wait,” I said. “I will see you tonight.” There was no avoiding it now; she will want me to kiss her tonight.

“Okay, baby—later.” I hear the click of the phone as she hangs up but I can’t let the phone go. I just stand, frozen in place and holding the phone against my ear.

I was so nervous; the only time I came out of my room was to go to the bathroom. I took three showers, brushed my teeth ten times, and washed my hands thirty times. Whenever I got nervous as a child I would take a shower and brush my teeth. I kept asking myself the same questions over and over: when should I kiss her; how in the hell do I kiss her; how could I get out of kissing her; how was she going to react when she found out.

About five minutes before seven, I see a light interrupting the darkness. A car is coming up the gravel driveway, it’s her. Damn, I was hoping her car would break down or something. Both of my ears become hot with dread.

Less than a minute later, the doorbell rings, “Jayson, your little date’s here, lover boy,” my brother Wes shouts sarcastically.

I walk in the living room and see Emily talking to Mom. To make matters worse, Mom’s husband of the moment and both of my brothers are in the living room. Apparently, they’re having a family meeting to spotlight my embarrassment.

Wes walks up to me and whispers, “What the hell does she see in you? You’re a weirdo.”

“Hey Emily,” I nervously mumble. The room starts spinning, it’s hard to breathe. I feel a panic attack coming on. I want to run back to my room and shut my door but I have to hide the crazy from her. I can’t let her see it already. My reputation would be destroyed at school.

“Hey Jayson,” Emily interrupts my panic attack by walking over and giving me an uncomfortable half- hug. I think she’s as embarrassed as I am, having these jackals sitting here staring at us with pole cat grins on their faces.

“You ready to go?” she whispers to me.

“Oh God yes,” I said very quickly. We sprint through the minefield of sadistic family members and run towards the car like they’re chasing us.

“We’re going to a party at a friend of mine’s house okay.” Oh great, we are going to a nasty orgy. The entire room will be watching me pass out from Emily attempting to kiss me. They will go and tell all their friends at school and I will be the weirdo that passed out and pissed his pants because a girl touched him.

We get to her friend’s house and my search for alcohol begins, maybe I can get so drunk that I will blow chunks and she certainly wouldn’t want to touch me then. Alcohol was a foreign concept to me, the only time I saw it was on television, but one thing I’m fairly certain of, it doesn’t come in Pepsi and 7-Up bottles. Yet again, my plan is ruined because apparently these are good kids. No alcohol, just punch and soda. Is it possible to get drunk on Pepsi?

There’s no orgy going on, just people talking and watching movies. I have gone to a party in Mayberry but I’m actually having a good time. Emily and I are sitting on the sofa beside a couple that won’t stop giggling. I hate them for having no worries; I want to reach over and choke both of them.

Eleven o’ clock rolls around and everybody is saying their goodbyes. “You ready to go Jayson?” Emily asks.
I force a yes; I’m just hoping my voice doesn’t sound like a prepubescent Mike Tyson. I don’t want her to know that I’m thinking about running into the woods and playing hide-and-go-seek instead of making out.

We walk out the door, and I spot some other couples that are not having problems with affection: Buddy and Julie, they’re making out on the damn hood of their car; steam is shooting off the hood. Chris and his girl’s shadows appear to be wrestling in the front seat as the windows are steaming up. Maybe it’s not so hard; I can wrestle with her a little bit. I wonder if I could punch her in the arm like the boys did to girls they liked when I was in elementary school. Man, things were so much simpler then, just punch a girl or throw dirt in her hair and call her your girlfriend.

We get in the front seat of her car and “Love Hurts” by Nazareth, is playing on the radio. The irony of that song playing does not escape me. We’re rubbing our hands and blowing in them trying to keep warm while the car warms up. We do the slow turn to look at each other; she leans over. I’ve seen it done like this on television so I follow suit by leaning towards her; our noses bump. She says ouch and moves her head back; my ears warm with embarrassment. She moves back in to try again. This time I don’t lean towards her; she purses her lips and touches my dry cracked lips.

“I had a great time,” she said. “I’m glad your Mom let you come out tonight.” I was happy and relieved as we backed out of the driveway; I got my first kiss out of the way. I am a normal teenager now because I’m not a virgin now.

We pull in the driveway, and she stops right at the end of the driveway, which stops right under Mom’s bedroom window. She then kills the lights and turns the car off. Why did she do that? We are going to freeze out here. Does she want me to kiss her again? I’m not sure I’m ready for it again.

“Come here baby,” she says. I turn and see her leaning towards me. Fear engulfs me, I can’t run. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

We lean together and our lips touch. Her lips are so soft and perfect, and mine are soggy from the nonstop licking I’ve been doing since the first time we kissed. I have no idea what I am doing so I just open my mouth up and move it up and down like I see them do on the movies. She moves her lips up and down and side to side with a purpose.

I am terrible at it, because of me our teeth clang together and my top lip almost kisses her nose. I am absolutely horrified at the human contact and spit swapping. I want to push her away and run into the night screaming like a banshee but because I really like her I continue on. I just know that she is thinking about how terrible I am.

I notice the windows are fogging up and as they do Emily is getting more voracious. She is touching me in my area that only I have touched since I was a baby. So I reciprocate, I reluctantly start rubbing on her as well. This causes her to start moaning loudly and she starts to unzip my pants. She sticks her hand in my pants and I jump. The car starts shaking up and down; the more we go at it the harder the car shakes. I turn my head to look out the windshield and I’m horrified.

I now realize that our teenage passion wasn’t the reason for the car shaking; it was my brother Wes. He’s standing on the front bumper, jumping up and down with a crazy-you are busted smile on his face.

“Mom told me to tell you, she wants you in the house now,” he says.

“Oh my God,” Emily whispers. “I am so embarrassed.” She’s wiping her face off from lapping I just gave her.

I wipe my mouth and open the car door so the cold night air could suck all the built up heat out of me. I don’t even want to look at Emily.

“What were you doing?” Wes asked with this shit eating grin on his face.

“Shut up,” I mumble. Our shadows appear as Emily turns her lights on and starts her car. I didn’t even say goodbye or anything. I imagine that will be the last my butt will be in her front seat. Back to being Jayson the Virgin, this time with a twist. I will be the guy with the creepy brother that likes to interrupt.

I walk in the door and there’s nobody in the living room, so I sprint to my bedroom and shut the door. I just want to jump in bed and pray that I will wake and realize it was all a horrible nightmare. I was going to have to transfer schools, get a new identity and maybe a new family. I dreaded the sun coming up the next morning, and me having to face my family: Monday, oh I couldn’t even think about Monday yet.

Well that is the horror story that is my first kiss. I am glad to say though that Emily and I made it past that horrifying night. We ended dating for two years. We never really talked about that night.

My family made fun of me mercilessly for about a month. Apparently the whole time Emily and I were wrestling in the car my Mom was watching from her bedroom. She was watching us going at it like a pack of hyenas and decided to let one of her other sons come out to embarrass me.

After Emily and I broke up, we remained friends. We finally talked about that night. She told me I was the worst kisser she ever had. I then explained to her that I was a virgin and I never kissed anyone before. I didn’t have to explain the quirks I have about human contact and bodily fluids, she dated me for almost two years so that didn’t come as a shock to her.

Story ID:	3895
Written by:	Jay Ingram (bio, link, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Story
Location:	Nashville TN USA
Year:	1990
Person:	Jay