November 5, 2007
The Helicopter
Written by Shana in Jaunty Post
Welcome to First Kiss Week at The Sisterhood of the Jaunty Quills! This week all the JQs will be blogging about first kisses. So stop by everyday—you never know what secrets we’ll reveal.
Speaking of secrets, let me tell you about my first kiss. I’m not talking about the first peck I received on the cheek by some cootied boy in Kindergarden or even the quick kiss on the lips from some long-forgotten boy in elementary school. I’m talking about a real kiss.
With tongue.
It was the summer before ninth grade, and I was taking American History in summer school at the local high school to get ahead. Butch—names have NOT been changed to protect the not-so-innocent, so that was REALLY his name—was taking summer school because he flunked.
Star-crossed lovers, right? Or maybe star-crossed losers?
Anyway, Butch was going to be a Junior in high school, so he was an older man. That must have been why I overlooked the fact that his name was Butch or that the letter jacket he gave me when he asked me to go with him still smelled like his last girlfriend’s perfume.
But I wore that letter jacket everyday, despite the fact that the temperature routinely soars to over 100-degrees during the Houston summers. Despite the fact that my friends and even the teacher teased me unrelentingly.
It was “just a foolish beat of my heart” (to borrow from a Debbie Gibson song popular at the time), but I thought it was love—or at least excitement that a high school Junior liked ME!
So I guess Butch and I had been going together for a couple of weeks, when we had our first kiss. The setting was romantic—our history classroom when the teacher was at lunch. Butch took my hand, led me into the room, cut the lights for ambiance (or so that we wouldn’t get caught), and put his arms on my shoulders.
The next thing I knew he was kissing me. It started off nice, and then turned…weird. I knew French kissing had to be done open-mouthed, so when I felt his tongue, I opened my mouth. And then he did some weird thing with his tongue that totally reminded me of a helicopter propeller. I was shocked and kind of grossed out.
Since the teacher could have come back to her room at any moment, the kiss was mercifully brief. A few days later, Butch found another girlfriend and I had to give him the smelly letter jacket back.
I was sad—sort of. I mean, I dutifully listened to my Debbie Gibson tape (fast forwarding to all the slow songs) and moped for about three hours. It was a long hard road back, but I got over him.
I don’t think I’ll ever get over that kiss. Yuck!
So what about you? Any gross first (second, third) kiss stories?
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Taryn Raye Says:
My first kiss wasn’t bad. When I was sixteen Jamie had kissed me during a game of truth or dare. My friend, who liked him at the time, dared him to kiss me. It was dark and we were having a “campout” in her mother’s van. He just happened to show up. She made him kiss me a second time because the first time she didn’t see it in the dark, but both were just little pecks on the mouth. It wasn’t until a couple of years later that he and I were actually dating and we had our first real french kiss. It felt good, shocked and surprised me and I got the giggles because he tasted like Mt. Dew.(Much later it turned out he was gay and came out of the closet).
As for gross kisses…I’ve had a few too many to suit me. I guess Bear was one the worst, I lost my virginity to him years after Jamie-
Bear kissed with a slackjaw, weak chin, slobber and this weird forceful darting of a stiff tongue that almost gagged me. His kisses felt like I was being put through some sort of form of torture to give up evidence! LOL (not with him anymore either)LOL
brownone Says:
My first REAL kiss was with my first boyfriend in the 8th grade….Danny. He was a hottie with beautiful green eyes and black hair (I was always a sucker for that combination). I was in love with him from afar for most of the school year and he was in a few of my classes. He finally noticed me towards spring break and asked me to the spring dance. The spring dance was in the cafeteria…I can still smell the macaroni and lysol scent… Well, he pulled me into a corner and planted one on me and I thought how gross! This is it? Well, by the end of the school year I started to avoid him (my interest had waned). We broke up that summer. His best friend was our go-between (who I think liked me and kept urging me to break up with him) and so I told him to tell Danny that I just couldn’t see him anymore (HEY, I was only 13 or 14!)
Anyhoo…in the end, Danny and I ended up going to high school together and he became an even HOTTER guy. He started seeing another girl and we would only say hi to each other if we saw each other in the hallway. Man, I was a moron! He would do ANYTHING for me when we were in junior high school!
AndreaW Says:
LOL, Shana!
A helicopter!
I was in ninth grade when I got my very first real kiss. After it was over, I was thinking that it was the best kiss ever (of course, it was my first!) until he told me that I didn’t kiss very well. That totally burst my bubble. Feeling quite embarrassed, I came back with, “You aren’t any better!” I certainly don’t miss those awkward teenage years.
Shirley Karr Says:
Ah, those awkward teenage kisses… so glad I skipped them.
I was such a serious student *cough, cough* that I didn’t have time for such hormonal silliness. That, and the fact that my best friend was a guy and no one believed we were just friends, and the only boy in high school I really wanted to kiss moved out of state the summer before my junior year. I’m married to the guy who gave me my first kiss. 
catslady Says:
My first french kiss - I just turned 16 - my first serious boyfriend - my first everything really - I married the guy - it’s now 38 years later - where did the time fly. I can honestly still remember that first kiss!