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Kiss and Tell, a trail of kisses, first, best and all the ones inbetween….
Kiss and Tell, a trail of kisses
Recently, I was asked (full disclosure: it was actually an Internet writing prompt) about my most outstanding or soul-shattering kiss or to cut to the chase, what was my best kiss.
Kisses or great kisses can be too rare, few and far between and for that reason alone, they’re always an interesting subject. It certainly got me to thinking about my historic (modest but historic) trail of kisses. Luckily, I’ve had some unforgettable kisses which are not to brag but because each one, wonderful or less so, taught me something and so to me, they were memorable and catalogued in a rogues’ gallery of sweetness.
My first-ever kiss came from my first ‘official’ boyfriend, Jay, when we met at summer camp. I was fourteen(he was fifteen) and he kissed me at the traditional camp kissing spot: the mail-box that was the goodnight kiss point, aka the landmark between the male and female dormitories (no coed dorms in those days) at Vermont Music Camp. I was so callow and scared of that first kiss that I had a stomach day all day. The line between anticipation and illness was quite thin. I pressed my BFF to bolster me up in the hours that preceded it since I knew it was a done-deal on that particular night. I relied on her to push me into the experience and not bail as I threatened to. That ingénue kiss had a three week…
