You’ve read about how I met my husband in Some Enchanted Evening. I invite you to share the inevitable next step of our courtship.
How about a little fun? How about a story about a first kiss, that led to a second kiss, that led to years and years of kisses.
This is where Alan kissed me the first time, in my kitchen, with his body pressing mine into the edge of the counter.
A midsummer’s eve, with us racing up the back stairs to my apartment so I could grab something and we could rush out the front door to his car and the next place we had to be, the next party of friends who were waiting for us.
But he grabbed me, pulled me back before I got to the kitchen door, pulled me back and pressed me against my cupboards. He kissed me. This man who had been so shy kissed me. Deeply. Meltingly. One long, long kiss.
That was all it was, just a kiss. The two of us together, lips to lips, body to body, just that, nothing more. All the electrified longing between us jolted from head to toe, with our mouths as the conduit.
All my life before him stopped with that kiss. All my life to come began with that kiss. Nothing existed except that kiss.
Just a kiss. Then off in his car to a party. With nothing the same, ever again.
Now, how about sharing your first kiss stories. I told you mine. Tell us yours.
What a fun story! My first kiss with Paul, (my husband of 25 years) also took place in the kitchen! We had been out on our first date and he was delivering me to my apartment that I shared with my 2 best friends. We were 19 years old, and in the second year of college. When we returned to my apartment, my roommates were in the living room, so we said our good-bye in the kitchen – and the first kiss! Thanks for the memory! I had totally forgotten — until your story! Thanks Georgia!
Hi KJ: Who would think it, two of us with first kiss stories in the kitchen. Not the place one associates naturally with romance. Still, it was wonderful, wasn’t it.
We had a couple casual, group dates before our first serious date. We went out dancing and had so much fun. A great mix of active dancing and slow dancing.
On the front porch of her house we shared a slow, lingering kiss. As we started to walk through the front door, I stopped. Kissed again and said, “If I walk through that door, I am going to end up in bed with you and I don’t want to loose the passion of this kiss to that memory.” We kissed a bit longer but soon stopped and I walked to my car. It would have been so easy to change my mind but I was right.
Hi Currious: Wonderful! Thanks for sharing your story.
You are fortunate to have such a great “first kiss” memory, Georgia. All I can recall is playing Spin the Bottle, the cute boy in 6th grade. He was about a foot shorter than me, I think. Oh well.
Hi Friendforu: So you shot up, just like I did. All the booys in 6th grade were shorter than I was.