Miss Me, Miss Me… Now You Gotta Kiss Me!
Jan 15, 2009 I Forgot to Tag
I remember my very first kiss.
It was on top of a washing machine in the laundry room in my apartment building. This kiss led to more kisses… these included lots of tongue and saliva. The kind of tongue kissing that leaves you chapped and dehydrated; your lips resembling fresh bruises.
From tongue kissing, heavy petting came shortly after. You know with the rubbing of the girl and boy parts over the clothing? Yes… the infamously wicked game of adolescent doctor. It led to gossip among friends.
“OMFG… Crystal let Danny feel her breastsandmore!”
”Eric told me that Danny told him that Crystal was sooooo flat chested”
”So, she stuffs?”
”She toooootally stuffs!”
*sigh*
After the heavy petting came the dry humping. Ahhhhhh… the memories…. That special song set on repeat while the fake sex commences. I remember it being just as good if not better than some of the actual sex I have had in my life.
No bullshit.
It never will get back to the feeling of teenaged make out sessions. I mean, if you are dating… you have something similar to TMOS, but the majority of us have taken it past that level.
That is the clincher.
Once you have taken the “just the tip” plunge… there is no turning back. That wicked little voice called “horny” speaks to you like a sick addiction. It taunts and heckles you from a place deep within you, until you give it the fix it craves. Gone are the days of the warm feelings of the next time you will see that boy/girl for some serious face sucking. Face sucking that ends at that. No expectations. No ulterior motives. (Well… no motives that are expected to be fulfilled anyway)
I miss that feeling. Don’t you?
I remember making out for hours with boys, totally anticipating my parents coming through the front door early… and busting me with my shirt off, bra still on… hot and sweaty from the hours upon hours I let some random boy feel me up.
I am a wicked little slut. Always have been… always will be. Heh.
I don’t know if it is because I am quickly approaching 30, but I long for that feeling. The adolescent in me is dying to break free of kids, marriage, jobs, and just responsibility in general.
Where was your ‘first REAL kiss‘?
What is your fondest memory of teenaged make out sessions? Would you go back?
