Disclaimer: Leroy Jethro Gibbs sprang forth from the mind of Donald P. Bellisario full grown and a marine and an NCIS Special Agent. I lay no claim to any part of Gunny Gibbs. I write about him for fun and for the enjoyment of any audience who happens by.

This is dedicated to the woman who taught me to kiss more than fifty years ago. I'm still doin' it the same way she showed me. An additional dedication to long lost love and lovers left behind.

A/N: Imagine that this is written in longhand on a paper tablet in Gibbs own hand. Most punctuation, grammar and spelling errors are included on purpose. This work has not been read or edited by a Beta, so all errors are mine. It is rated T just because I am not sure where it should go and I want to be safe.

Dear Jenny,

You asked me once long ago where I learned to kiss. I never answered.

Georgia Flynt was 18 when she asked me to take her to her senior prom. I was 14. We sat side by side in economics class and had talked and flirted a little. When she asked me, it was a bolt from the blue. I had never been on a date before. I did have a driver's license and my dad let me drive the car (1954 Chevy Bellaire) to the local Dixie Dog drive in on weekends. We lived in a small town, less than 1,200 people, that supported a coal mining community – along with some agriculture and a small lumber mill. My graduating class had 45 students, 39 boys and 6 girls. Georgia's class was smaller than that, but I don't remember how much smaller and about the same ratio of boys and girls. I should say at this point that Georgia "was built." Large breasts, small waist and legs that made grown men stand and stare.

My mother thought Georgia was a hussy. My dad was proud but noncommittal. They bought me a white sport coat to wear to the prom - it was different that the other kids had, more an off white and heavier fabric. It made me stand out from the crowd, but that was no problem to me.

Georgia lived by herself. Both her parents had been killed in a car accident the previous year when she was seventeen and she convinced the city fathers that she could live on her own. From what I saw, she did very well, cooking her own meals and taking care of the various household chores. She always wore clean clothes, not new, but none showed signs of being in tatters either. When she asked me to the prom, she said that if I couldn't get the car, she would be willing to drive or let me drive her pickup truck. My dad let me use the car. My mom protested to no avail.

The prom was okay. I had told Georgia that I didn't know how to dance, but she helped me and we had a fun time. Some of the senior boys had a bottle of liquor hidden somewhere and were nipping on it from time to time. We'd been there a little over an hour when a couple of them made snide remarks to Georgia about her choice of dates. She replied that since no one asked her, she brought who she wanted to - a budding feminist. Very soon after that she suggested we leave before she got angry. You know me, I was ready to fight. We got some strange looks from the chaperones as we left. We drove to the drive in for a coke then she told me to find a place to park that was private so we could talk.

The only place I could think of was under the grandstand at the football stadium so I went there. Only distant streetlights lit the night. The car radio was playing. I put my arm around her shoulders, leaned in and gave her a kiss - my first kiss! I was heady with triumph and tried it again and reached out to run my left hand over her breast. She didn't respond until after the kiss was over. The she said that she liked me, we could have a lot of fun together, but I was not to touch her that way again, and she tapped me lightly on the cheek with her fingers. I never touched her that way again. (Womens' underwear for formal occasions consisted of a reinforced bra that covered from the top of the breast almost to the belly button with reinforced canvas - okay it was only cotton, but there were many layers of it and it was stiff and unyielding and I doubt Georgia felt much of anything through that armor. They also wore girdles that covered them from waist to just above the knee. There was no jiggling of breast or bottom allowed.)

Then she said, kiss me again, but make your lips soft. Don't pucker up and make them hard. So began my kissing lessons. At one point she saw that I was fidgeting and squirming and took pity on me and said that it was okay for me to arrange myself so that I was comfortable cause the lessons weren't over yet. She was very easy to be with and to learn from. I don't remember feeling any discomfort with her from that time until the lessons were over. When I was as comfortable as I was going to get, I reached for her and she told me to sit back and pay attention. She got onto her knees on the car seat and took my face in both hands and said open your lips just a little bit and moisten them. When I had, she kissed me very lightly with barely parted lips that were soft as a cloud. Then the tip of her tongue ran across my bottom lip then back across my top lip in the other direction. (I remember this as if it were yesterday - a lasting impression.) She pulled back and said that now she was going to put her tongue in my mouth so I should pay attention and remember how it felt so I could do the same thing when it came my turn. She told me not to open my mouth any wider at first, but react to her mouth and tongue. She did just what she said she was going to do, first licking again then putting just the tip of her tongue past my lips and rubbing the inside of my lips. I could not figure out what to do with my hands, so I grabbed my thighs and held on tightly. My erection felt ready to burst through my pants. My shoulders and arms were rigid and I was panting. With her lips still lightly on mine she said that I could breathe through both my nose and my mouth if I needed to, but that I should try to control my breathing and she also said it would come easier with practice. That's when her lips pressed more firmly on mine, her mouth opened and mine did too in response. Her tongue touched mine then licked it and moved it side to side feeling underneath it with hers. She explored the backs of my teeth - a weird sensation the first time - then slowed her tongue to an almost languid, tentative touching. Finally when I thought I couldn't breathe any longer, she sat back and smiled at me and told me to take a sip of coke and calm down cause we still had a lot to do. In retrospect I am so damned impressed with her, but at the time it was all I could do to keep any composure at all. I wanted to run and jump and yell and tell everyone that Georgia Flynt had kissed me, but I sat there with my head back breathing through my mouth and wondering how I had ended up here. It felt wonderful!
We sat there for two hours with her coaching me in kissing techniques that were completely foreign to me and left me entirely breathless and so pent up that I was certain I would explode. With my lips throbbing I heard her whisper, "It's time to take me home now." When we got to her house I was embarrassed as I walked her to the front door, certain that my erection was visible, walking bent over a little trying to hide it. She told me to stand up straight, that she was flattered and that I should kiss her goodnight, but not to make it a long one as her neighbors were always on the lookout for any mischief. After what had gone before, the goodnight kiss was almost chaste, but I got to hold her tightly against my chest and feel her body against mine. I wanted to ask her out again, but couldn't find the courage. She said that she'd see me in class on Monday and slipped inside the house. I ran back to the car. I was exuberant. I drove fast through town looking for any of my friends. Everything was closed down, even the drive in. There was no one around to tell. I went home still in a state of total excitement. My mother was waiting up for me. My erection subsided immediately as I saw the scowl on her face. My mother told me to go wash that hussy's lipstick off my face and go to bed. Even that did not quell my excitement at being taught to kiss by Georgia Flynt. I masturbated for the first time that night.

I drove by her house several times on Saturday and Sunday, but her pickup was not there so I didn't stop. I saw some of my friends on Saturday night and they all asked me how it had been. By that time I had gained my senses a little and had decided that if I wanted more lessons I had better keep my mouth shut, so I just said that we had fun at the prom and left it at that. (Eventually one of my friends wormed it out of me, but that was several years later.)

In class on Monday, Georgia told me to come to her house that afternoon at five so we could make a plan. My mother was using the car so I walked to Georgia's house and got there a little late, but she was understanding about it. She told me that she had gone to her house on the farm for the weekend to pick up some things she needed in town. She told me that she was not going to go on another date with me, but that we could be together in her house in the afternoons but I had to leave before dark. I would need to bring school books with me so it would look like she was tutoring me. Sounded like a good plan to me. We kissed for a few minutes and she shooed me out and told me to come back on Wednesday.
Over the next few weeks she taught me to nibble ear lobes, kiss eye lids and eye brows, nibble kiss necks and just explore with my lips and tongue. She coached me in every aspect she'd taught me until she was satisfied I knew enough to "be dangerous."

It ended the day after my dad whipped me for the first time. I'd been at Georgia's in the car and lost track of time. My mother needed the car. When I got home they were both livid and sat me down on the couch for a lecture. At one point my mother said that I was being led around by the nose by that hussy. I said, "I don't care!" My dad ripped his belt from his waist and started to whip me across the thighs while I sat there stoically. I got tears in my eyes, but I refused to break down and cry. He left welts and bruises. My mother finally stopped him when she realized his rage was out of control. During gym class the next day I got knowing glances from some of the kids and one of the coaches, but no one asked me anything. I told Georgia that afternoon and she asked to see my legs. Her reaction of rage was equal to my dad's, but she only said, "I'm sorry, Leroy, we can't see each other anymore. Now kiss me and go." That was our last kiss. It wasn't anything spectacular, but it remains very special to me. She was more tender at that moment than she had been any time previously. We still talked and flirted in class until the end of the school year when she graduated and moved away. She sold her house and farm and moved to California. I do not know how her life worked out. She was a great teacher and I love her still.

I met Shannon just over three years later and about two months later we shared our first kiss. I knew what I was doing and Shannon seemed happy with it cause she kept coming back for more. About a week before we got married she asked me where I'd learn to kiss. I didn't answer but smiled at her the same way I smiled at you when you asked me the same question years later. I'm sorry I didn't answer, Jen. It might have led to more conversations. Better understanding. I love you. I'll always love you.

Jethro

A/N: If you came looking for a crack!fic, I hope this doesn't qualify. I've had hundreds of hits on my previous stories, but few reviews. I will appreciate it if you can take the time to leave a little note to let me know how I'm doing. Even if you can't take the time, I want you to know that I appreciate you reading.