A Sussex based blogger sharing a candid tale of 20-something humanness

Sunday, 7 February 2016

Five girls on their best first kiss

'We’d been flirting with the idea of falling in love for a while. 
It was a Sunday when our nights collided, and nothing was different about his beer buzzed tongue or my chocolate hair that separated us from any other eighteen year olds. But as happens, we live in a world where ‘we’ are always the exception. And we were. He was cold, distant with most - but cuttingly funny. I was sarcastic and sharp and ate boys for breakfast. We fit. He pulled my small frame into him and kissed me; his fingers ran over the back of my hand while his lips met mine. The second time we kissed for the first time was a Friday. It had been two years since our first kiss and I had just told him I was leaving him. His distance with others had shrivelled with them and grown onto me, and I, aching with sadness, was leaving him. I didn’t want to. Every part of me refused, but he needed to know I would not be one of the people he pushed away. I was the girl who ate boys for breakfast. I watched my words wash over his face. It really is a palpable thing. His heart sunk so loudly I swear I heard it and I, like every other girl, but acting as an exception, gave him a fine and delicate thing– a chance. He paused. He’d been fighting for so long to convince me we were worth too much it took him a while to notice I’d said a small, but sure ‘okay'. He kissed me more deeply than he ever had before. He kissed me through his salty tears and the ache of almost losing me. He kissed me for growing apart and he kissed me to remind me he wanted nothing else. Our first kiss was laced with teenage anticipation and excitement, but it was nothing, nothing at all, compared to the second time he kissed me for the first time.' Anonymous

'I wanted to kiss him the moment I saw him. I liked the way he wore his watch. I'd catch his eye across the office and think of his fingers teasing my jawline, his stubble brushing against my skin, that devilishly handsome face just inches from mine. I'd feel his eyes on me when I walked across the room. He looked at me as if I were beautiful. He looked at me as if he couldn't not look at me. A few weeks later, we sat, legs entangled upon a hill that laid the twinkling lights of our hometown before us. We'd talked for hours, but then came a point where we fell into silence. Natural, knowing silence. His cheek was against mine for moments that felt like an eternity, his mark upon my heart already etched. That delicious bruise of longing. The sweet absence of his lips on mine. Until came a kiss. A kiss that was just as enchanting as the very thought of it.' Kathy B

'New Year's Eve. An underground recording studio below a graveyard. London Bridge. My best friends/newly adopted family and a bunch of strangers who I knew would soon turn out to be my favourite people. He walked into the room I was standing in and I whispered to my friend, "I fancy him like mad" - she looked at me, saw my eyes flicker from the fireworks/lust/jager, and knew this poor boy would soon find out. It was ten to midnight and we were being ushered out of this underground heaven, onto Tower Bridge, with champagne flutes in our hands and excitement filling the air. We saw the New Year in, huddled in a circle, making promises we'd break the next day and revelling in being young, wild and free. Half an hour later, I was outside smoking a cigarette, taking in the fresh air of a brand new year: MY new year. He introduced himself. His name translated into "love". He kissed me and I knew that life would never be the same. Not because of him, but because I wasn't the person I used to be. I had survived my first year of living alone in London, but I was surrounded by the type of people I thought only existed in movies. Life was too good to be true, and a beautiful boy was kissing me. A first kiss for a fresh start, with a boy whose face I can't quite picture, but who I will always remember.' Vick, Oh No, Not Another Blogger

'It was either the Harry Potter party, or the UV Rave. We argued about this– months later, when we talked about our first kiss. He swears he was wearing a long black cloak, Death Eater mask pushed back off his face. I maintain we were both in glowing white extra-tight T-shirts: paint splotches on our skin, glow-sticks everywhere. It's strange how we remember what happened, but not precisely when. I watch as he's played with by shameless unsubtle girls– stroking his face, ruffling his hair, dancing against him in the club. I consider it being me, doing those things. If he was mine for the night. I'd love to run my fingers through that thick hair. Just the idea of our bodies being pressed close, moving to the music and feeling the bass pump through his chest directly into mine...

'Suddenly I'm pulled forward, towards him – by one of the girls. "He has a bet!" She squeals. "How many girls can he kiss in one night!? Help him out?"

'He smiles shyly, awkwardly leans in– like he's holding back, almost. We share a gentle peck. He smiles against my lips, before quickly pulling away. He's being polite. Suddenly, I'm overcome with excitement and bravery. I grab his t-shirt (or cloak) and say, "I need a proper kiss!" Then we fall into each other, and I swear the lights brighten against my eyelids, the music gets louder in my ears, everything intensifies...I forget where I am, I feel the fireworks. When we break apart we're both dizzy. More drunk. As he's dragged away from me by the group of girls, who now hate me, he points at me and shouts over the music: "I like her...she can stay!''' Gracie, Gracie actually writes/Oh No, Not Another Blogger

'My best first kiss started as a blind date. I remember being SO NERVOUS'- I’d never blind dated before. When I did see him for the first time, I was surprised that I instantly liked him. I can’t tell you why, you know some people just click? Anyway, we spent the day at Monkey Forest, which is probably my dream date. We had nervously brushed past each other and I remember at one point he put his hands on my waist to help me take a photo, and the butterflies were so strong I swear I thought I was going to collapse! I wanted to just turn around and kiss him but I was trying to act super cool and casual. Ha!

'Date at Monkey Forest was over and I was gutted. I started thinking 'he can’t like me that much', but then he asked if I’d like to go and see Superman instead of going home. I said yes- this could be my last chance! He was such a gent and had paid for the entire day, which was getting pretty pricey now it included a cinema trip too. As we waited for the film to start, I said, “I feel really bad for how much you’ve spent”, and he just laughed. And then there was this moment of awkward silence and I blurted (super cheesy and non-casual) “Oh, maybe I should pay you back?” and leant in for a kiss. Luckily, he did the same and it honestly felt like one of the scenes from a film. It wasn’t perfect, and there was an awkward bit where I moved my head and almost knocked him out, but it just felt right and I knew he’d be my boyfriend from that moment. We did end up going out for a really long time and I still love him to this day!' Becky, Geek gets glam


  1. I love this post! Graces's actually made me feel warm & fuzzy inside (secretly hoped they hooked up & were super compatible afterwards!) Lovely insights into little stories.

    1. Thank you! It gave me the fuzzies too! :) Xx


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