He had been hitting on me over the internet (in part of a little group, so everyone could see it) as a joke for quite some time. It was actually pretty funny because he's the last person you'd expect to hit on anyone (because of his adorable shyness), but then his remarks became less and less sleazy, and more and more adorably sweet.

We were all at a Halloween party when we were playing truth or dare. He chose truth. My friend asked him if he had ever actually liked me. He wouldn't answer, so he chose dare instead. The same friend dared him to kiss me. He made everyone leave, and then he was still being really shy, so I just went and kissed him.

Then the same friend dared me to kiss him, so I did.

Turns out, he was practically in love with me. He wanted so much to ask me out, but he was too nervous and shy. He poured his heart out in emails to the same friend that dared us to kiss, and she eventually had to ask me out for him. I sent him a definite YES, and then the friend sent me the sequence of emails that he had sent her. Those messages are just about the sweetest thing I've ever seen.
The strangest thing about this is that I've always been the "just friends" friend. To see exactly how this boy feels about me was beyond explanation.

My first kiss wasn't until the summer before my junior year of high school. don't ask me why it took so long, I still don't know

I had just moved to town, and this girl and her guy best friend asked if I wanted to hang out, we went to the mall and then when to his (parent free) house. We started watching funny movies online when the other girl went and took a shower. He stood behind me, was playing with my hair, tilted my head back and kissed me, and continued to do so until the computer let out a huge belch.

We kissed much later during Phantom of the Opera, and he tried to get me to have sex with him, but in my head, I thought I couldn't have my first kiss and lose my virginity in the same hour

he kissed me that night. i don't know why. i wasn't particularly attracted to him. i didn't think he was attracted to me.

three months later, after a lot more kissing, i find out he met someone when he went home. he says he was planning to tell me. he says he's torn. two days after i find out, he says he's going home again. one week after he comes back, he suggests moving in with me. he comes with bags and suitcases. apparently she stopped calling him.

and now i'm sitting here, torn inside. because even though he denies it, i know his heart is elsewhere. it might not be with her anymore. but it's not with me. perhaps it's with the girl he comes home and spends all night chatting with while i cook and serve him dinner.

The song that this line comes from- I'll always remember standing in the crowd on the dance floor with my best friend (and prom date) while this song was playing. Just his face as he sang along- such a great look of enjoying the moment and feeling alive. It's all I see in the short memory, but it's all that's important. I love that memory.

I was 12.
He was a day older than me. I didn't know that then. I did know he was extremely short, and really cute.

That one day we were at a bar mitzvah. The service hadn't started yet. He was in the row in front of me, and we were just talking over the back of the pew. And I had this sudden urge to kiss him. I wasn't in love with him. I didn't even like him, you know, like a crush. I just wanted to kiss him.

The next bat mitzvah we went to we asked each other to dance simultaneously. He told everyone I asked him, but I told everyone he asked me. Two days later I found out he liked me.

We went through this 4 month period in which we were both in love with each other, but neither had the guts to ask the other out.

Then it happened.
The day before his bar mitzvah, the day I was going to ask me out (lest I die in the shower, as my friend predicted), he told my cousin (who I'm very close to) that he didn't like me anymore, and would she please tell me.

we met when i started working at the department store in town. he was the guy i went to with all my questions, and he teased me endlessly. he invited me to a party at his house one weekend. late into the night, after everyone else had passed out we stayed up talking. as the sun started to come up he kissed me. as much as i wanted to i couldnt kiss back. i was dating someone else. he appologized and said he understood, then asked why i stayed with someone who everyone knew treated me horribly. i couldnt explain that i didnt know how to get out of it.
the next day i dumped the boyfriend and asked him out.
we spent everyday together after that.
after about eight months we decided to move in together.
five months after that he asked me to marry him.
three months later he told me he didnt love me anymore.

She rested against me.

I had my arms around her, embracing her.

She closed her eyes.

I kissed them.

She smiled.

I held her tighter.

She exhaled, softly.

I kissed her cheeks.

Her lips pursed gently.

With every kiss I moved closer towards her lips.

She dreamed.

"What would you do if I stopped now?"

No response.

Our first kiss.

It was perfect. We were sitting by the campfire as he played his guitar, the sweetest sadness in his eyes. That's when I knew I loved him. I couldn't hold the tears from flowing down my face. It was the first time I had ever felt a love so strong. He asked me why I was crying... not knowing how I felt about him. And I leaned over and at that most perfect moment was when we shared to our first kiss.

We spend the night in each others arms but he knew he had to leave. He held me until I fell asleep. I can still feel the warmth of his lips, his arms as he held me tight. I never wanted him to let me go. He made me feel so peaceful. That if I died at that moment I knew I had lived, that I had loved.

He made me feel so weak the way he looked at me through those eyes... through the way his hands felt on my skin. I still do. I always will.

I love you.

The first kiss was an indication of things to come. It was overhyped, uneventful, disappointing. It wasn't bad, but it was easily forgotten. What's come from that kiss? A few good memories lost amongst a sea of dreams. I still dream of and wait for that 'unforgettable' first kiss.

The first time we met was drama club.
I'm pretty sure I was trashed for our first kiss. I was trashed for our first and second run at the relationship. I spend a lot of time wasted, I really do. We always held hands and I kissed her cheek all the time, and after we starting calling ourselves a thing, we'd get drunk and high and make out.

I remember my eighteenth birthday, with our bandmate, and I was so drunk that I took my shoes off and danced barefoot with my headphones on under the overpass. She laughed, and when I fell, she made me sit with her. Our bandmate was there, he'd brought pot, and we were all just reveling in each other's company.

I can remember when she told me, after our second break up, that we couldn't even be friends.

We were train wrecks without each other for a whole four months. I drank so much and slept with so many different people that they're all blurs now; first kisses, with those people, first fucks, those all became onlys. She drank enough to puke purple on a friend's lawn; I always drank alone, listening to records, or while out dancing at clubs I barely knew.

I took photos, wandered around town with a hole in my head. I hated it.

We were broken, and it was my fault. I wasn't good enough to her, because I was afraid that I wasn't good enough for her.

I left a mix on her door to apologize for my being a jackass, smoked a cigarette while watching her window, and disappeared to down half a mickey of Southern Comfort.

She called me, round one AM, and at that point, I couldn't stand up.

Friday night, she slept in my bed for the first time in months. I missed it so hard. She spent most of Saturday there, too; we didn't do much but kiss and listen to music, and lie next to each other. Her jeans still have the same rips in them.

I'm still drinking, yeah, and she's still laughing at me and the grin I flash her when I talk about whisking her off to Nebraska or New York or California. We're us again. We're whole.

We moved fast. Way too fast. I really believe this is why, at least partly, it didn't work out. It started out with a kiss, first date. I could tell right away he hadn't kissed many girls before, otherwise he would not have approached the kiss the way he had: arm akwardly around my shoulders, standing on the corner of my street, him asking me before he made the move whether it would be okay if he kissed me. That's fine, I said, expecting a short peck. After what seemed like at least five minutes, he pulled away from me with this HUGE grin on his face - he had liked the kiss. I had surprisingly liked it too. I say surprisingly because it was not like me to kiss like that on a first date. He was like this little school boy, excited to be holding a girl's (his girl's) hand. But I on the other hand was a little more cautious, and spent the rest of the walk home trying to figure out how much I actually liked this guy.

It was like this for our entire relationship, him holding my hand proudly and me... me always hanging back a bit, never sure that he was what I wanted. But why? Can we really be that choosy in life with who we give our heart to and who we don't? What was so wrong with this guy who had such a zest for life and was so excited to be in this relationship, that my feelings just couldn't match his? I don't know if I'll ever figure that out, or why exactly I ended it with him that one evening, that one evening where I totally blindsided him with my declaration that "I think it's best we break up". "Why? Do you think you'll ever find someone who will love you more than I do?"

No. I don't.

My first kiss happened in the back yard on our wooden swing. I remember thinking how nice the scene was. The trees were full with dark green leaves of summer, the street lamp bathed us in a nice warm glow. I was 14 or 15 and he had wild curly hair and an unexplainable attraction to me. It was quick and exciting. The sad thing is I can't even remember his name anymore...

My first kiss was outside my mother’s shop, it was the third attempt of this guy to kiss me.
On his first attempt, I don’t know how but somehow I moved my face seconds before he tried to kiss me, I didn’t plan these. On his second attempt, few minutes after the first one, we were just about to kiss when out of nowhere this dog came running and pass through us, he hated dogs, maybe I should have take this as a bizarre sign (not the fact that he hated dogs but this weird avoiding kiss situations) that he wasn’t good for me. Days or weeks later I can’t recall, we were sitting in my mom’s car outside mi mom’s shop and he lean to kiss me, this time nothing happened, hopping my mother won’t come out I kiss him back. Then he tried to french kiss me but I just kissed him back with mi lips closed. He didn’t try it again. Weeks later we argued basically because he was a junkie, goodbye, nice to meet you, take care.
My first first kiss, as in French kiss, was when I was 15 with my first boyfriend, nothing really special, we were in the cinema, I made a total fool of myself, we kiss, it was boring, really really boring, the best thing came afterwards I was almost in his sit because I was freezing he was hugging me and it was superb, one of the few moments I miss with him.

When I kissed him, it never occurred to me that he was gay. A year later, I couldn't understand how I could be so blind. I don't count it as *my* first kiss, because he didn't kiss me. MY first kiss turned out to be, in the long run, one of the biggest disappointments in my life. I wonder how many first kisses have lead to that?

I was 21 years old. It's not like I was waiting for the perfect partner, place, or situation. It just didn't happen until then. Maybe I wasn't the kissing type. At the time, I thought I was just unlucky. In hindsight, and in consideration of all the complications that I've found come along with kisses, maybe I was actually more fortunate than most.
He was supposedly my friend. His cousin was my best friend and soulmate. The three of us, and our four other friends were inseparable that summer. That whole, cliche, "us against the world" thing, that runs so rampant through young adult novels and made for t.v. movies? That was us. We ranged in age from 17 to 22, in education from high school students to near college graduates, but something bound us together. Something made us different from everyone else working at camp that summer. In the beginning, we told ourselves and everyone who would listen it was the cigarettes we had to sneak off the camp grounds to smoke. As the days (which felt something like weeks) and the weeks (which passed more quickly than days) flew by, it became apparent that there was more to us than the Marlboro Menthol Lights, or Parliament Lights, as the case may have been. I still don't know what drew us together- but I digress.
One night, after hours spent on a dirt road talking about everything that mattered and nothing important, Billy and I found ourselves the last two awake. It was probably four o'clock in the morning when Billy suggested a sleepover. I have no idea if he had intentions other than listening to annoying whiny music and giggling together for the few hours until the sun came up but I, for one, did not.
There was whiny music and giggling, but the conversation took a turn and before I knew what was going on we were making out. My first kiss did not end there and after the damage was done we set my alarm clock to go off in an hour and a half so he could sneak back to his room before anyone else was up.
The next day was awkward, to say the least, and I found myself unable to talk to this boy, who was supposed to be one of my best friends. I confessed what had happened to his cousin, the kindred spirit, and after that things returned to normal. It should be noted that by normal, I actually mean that Billy and I continued to fool around all summer. And everytime he came to visit me at school that year. Before moving back to camp that summer, we decided to stop and be friends again. Friends without benefits.
We tried that for about one day and then commenced sleeping together again. After another summer and the following months, we decided to call a truce again. This time it stuck. We don't talk anymore, but honestly I think that has very little to do with what began with my first kiss. Maybe it's because I was probably in love with his cousin the whole time. Maybe it's because we were children and have since grown up. Maybe it's because what happens over the summer isn't supposed to count. Or maybe, it's because kissing is complicated.
There have been boyfriends and not boyfriends since my first kiss and if I've learned anything, it's that while kissing will always be fun, it does not get any easier.

we were in 6th grade and he was my first 'boyfriend.' all the other kids gathered us in the cafeteria after school one day, trying to get us to kiss . . . we were too shy . . . another much more 'experienced' 6th grade couple walked up to each other and demonstrated for us - a quick peck on the lips . . . it didn't seem so hard, but neither of us could muster up the courage to get anywhere near the other's lips . . . the idea of it just seemed so weird! finally, he walked up to me and pecked me on the cheek. everyone went home disappointed that afternoon.

a couple weeks (months?) later, i was sitting behind him around a campfire at our 6th grade week at camp . . . as everyone got up to go to their cabins, he turned around and leaned in to kiss me good nite . . . i turned slightly, thinking he was going for my cheek, but i think he aimed for my lips, and he caught me just on the corner of my lips . . . it was the closest i'd ever come to a 'REAL' kiss! thank goodness it was dark so no one could see my stunned expression . . . stunned in a good way, of course! i went to bed real happy that nite =)

My first kiss happened late in life. I had been avoiding any intimacy with boys all of my life. Finally when I was 18 I decided it had been long enough and I should get this phase over with. This older boy who for some reason was interested in me took me out on a date. Actually, my first date. I thought he was so cool. He was a Go-Fast rep. and was sponsored by this company for mountain boarding or something. I had no idea what he saw in me. I still had braces on, no experience, and was more shy than a mouse.
At the end of the date, it became that time for the 'good evening kiss'. I was so nervous, but thought now or never.
I'd have to say that was the weirdest 'relationship'. I spent a few nights at his place which happened to be a scudsy hotel where a boa constrictor was loose. I found out he only had one leg. He was just using me to get back at his x-girlfriend, even though I'm not jealous making material. He wasn't sponsored by Go-Fast. Actually everything about him was a lie And one day he stopped returning my calls. Go-Figure

My first kiss. I don't remember it too vividly, but 5 minutes (or maybe even longer), I gathered my thoughts and realized that i had my first kiss. I guess its one of those moments that you think about for a long time and when it happens, it doesnt feel so different. its sorta like, you build up for so long your 16th birthday (or 18th or 20th or 21st) and when you get there, you think that you're gonna feel OLD. but when it happens, everything is kinda anticlimatic. anyway, when i got home, my grandma greeted me at the door. for a second, i wondered if she could tell that something was different about me.

Anyway, after we broke up, we didnt talk for the longest time. I didnt really think about it cause well, there wasnt much to remember. I saw her at prom and barely recognized her. i said hi and took a picture with her. and that was that.

my first kiss was stolen from me unexpectedly.
he was cute and good-looking, and many girls liked him because he was charming yet sweet.

we were at a basketball game and i was looking away when he all of a sudden grabbed by chin and placed a kiss on my lips. it was quick, yet soft. i swiftly pulled away because of the shock and he apologized for doing something so unexpected. i said it was fine, but inside i had hoped it would happen differently...

in my dreams my first kiss would be somewhere romantic, at the perfect moment. but this had happened so suddenly. i thought the kiss would feel exhilarating and my heart would be racing, but i felt none of that...

This started with my almost-kiss. We were both on the dance floor at a wedding. A slow song came on and all our friends had started to pair off. I was sure he was going to ask me because we were best friends. He had no other choice but to ask me anyways - we were the only two people left. Our dance was magical and for the first time when I glanced into his eyes there were sparks flying. When our eyes met, we had our almost kiss.

A year later I broke both of our hearts by ending our friendship. The unforseen circumstances for the both of us were personal and the stress of carrying each other became too much. Maybe because we were too young or maybe because we just weren't meant to be. I'm happy that you have found your perfect girlfriend now. I wish I never caused the both of us so much heartache and tears. There isn't a day that goes by that I dont wish you were still my best friend.

my first kiss happened with my first boyfriend in grade 10.

he has been hinting for awhile that he wanted to kiss me, but the first time he attempted, my head was placed too low and he lost his momentum.

the second time around, we were sitting on my bed. i had a teenage ninja turtle pillowcase that i've had with me since i was 5. he asked me what my favourite turtle was, and after my answer, i was again staring down.

but this time around, he reached over, dipped his head underneath mine and landed a kiss on me.

oddly enough, after the kiss, i ran away to the washroom because of the rush of it all. i came back and he asked me if i was okay. i just smiled shyly.

around a month later, this boy broke up with me. he told me he was too busy with school to spend time with me. but then, another month later, he asked my then-best friend out.

this kiss has literally set the standard. for the next dozen of kisses ive had with other guys after that, somehow, it always started by sitting on my bed. i have yet to experience a first kiss with a guy that's somewhere else.

It wasn't until 10th grade when I had my first kiss. I guess I was holding on to something magical. For my prince charming to come by and carry off my feet. I remember it was after school, I was walking with a group of friends in a park near my highschool. My boyfriend back then finally got me alone to himself. We walked the trail for a bit and then we stop at the most perfect spot imaginable. We were in this little path with the trees arched down on both sides. It was fall, the leaves were falling and then out of nowhere he kissed me. It felt just how I imagine it would be. Perfect.

Years later, I would always make sure my first kiss with my boyfriend would be perfect because nothing compares to being in love and sharing something so special.

Back in the mid 90's, I was in my first or second year of junior high. Me and my best friend were walking around in the ravine behind our school and we started discussing about his birthday. We talked about it and how fun it was going to be. He was going to do spin the bottle and we discussed about all the "cool" tasks that you would have to do along with the kiss when the bottle landed on you. We even decided that it would be great to play a game of twister. We were stoked.

The irony of it all was, I never got invited to the party. I was pretty disappointed, as any teenage boy would have been.

It wouldn't be until grade 11 that I would get my first "real" kiss. I put it in quotes because it was on the cheek. We were members of a paddling team and when our team got to the finish line, we were estatic - I don't remember what placed we finished. The girl in front of me, who I didn't know outside of the team and was a grade older, turned around to give me a hug and kissed me on the cheek. It was unexpected. I think that's what made my first race so memorable. The next year, after the same race, I returned the favour. It just felt like the right thing to do.

My first kiss was at Michelle Smith's house party in grade six. She never really had any friends but she was always the one who hosted the big party twice a year so somehow the 'cool' kids who never talked to her in school inevitably showed up with their bathing suit and a bag of chips each time an invitation came out. We played spin the bottle in her kitchen. I was hanging out in the back because I didn't really want to participate. I didn't even know what had happened (or maybe I was trying to pretend I didn't know) when Neil Hamade got up and gave me a one second kiss on the cheek. I know that doesn't qualify as a real first kiss but that's about as close as I got for a very, very, VERY long time. So it counts for me.