You know what a kiss is.
No matter what type of family you come from, if you're parents are the strict religious types they're everywhere. At school, in books, pictures, advertisements, films in public. You can't escape kisses, but for some in one way, they certainly can. Take Pandora for instance, she's never been kissed. Ever. She's absolutely terrified, I on one part totally agree with her, the rumours you hear, the expectations, your first is the one time you define every other time on. Apparently.
But for me, it wasn't the- Oh my god, his lips were so soft and he was a perfect kisser, fireworks went off above my head for me. Yet it wasn't the- It was a total disaster, it was like kissing my dog and my elderly aunt both at the same time either. I'll describe the first time I was kissed on the lips, or what I find was my first kiss. I don't think that your absolute first kiss has to be just that, I don't think it's the one with a person you truly love either, because otherwise I haven't had my first kiss yet. There's a whole other lot of first's for kisses, but this is about the legendary one, the mythical-yet-not kiss. The first. Mine was the one that I remember the clearest, the feeling, the thoughts running through my head, unlike most people who say they hit a blank straight away from bliss or whatever, I remember every moment. It's the one that defined ever single kiss after that; by no means was it the perfect heart-stopping kiss from the fairytales but… That was the best kiss I've ever received.
I was 11, madly curled red hair, wonky teeth, bright eyes the whole package. Not quite yet finished with the stage that 'dating' was sharing your mars bar at lunch, but that wasn't it entirely. Well, considering my first kiss was with a boy who was 'going out' with another girl in my year. His name was Brandon, bog-standard brown hair and green eyes. It was at his girlfriend's party I'm ashamed to remember, she had a huge garden and we were all playing hide and seek in this part that seemed almost to feel like a jungle. I had thorns and leaves in my hair which probably made me resemble some mad savage bush child, I swatted annoying flies and dodged weird looking ferns, my palms dirty and my knees grass stained as I crouched between the trees. He'd snuck up behind me.
"Hey", he'd whispered, a nice smile on his face. I spun round and narrowed my eyes at him.
"You scared me half to death!" I'd growled as quietly as I could. He looked about half ready to argue back when I hissed a 'shhhh' at him as someone walked noisily past possibly bulldozing half the bushes somewhere close to our left. I sat down on my butt, turning to face him as I heard squeals from a way away from us. He still had that smile on his face as fly flew into my ear; I flapped my hand around to get it away, then it buzzed off into the canopy. He just grinned at me this time. He wasn't saying anything. Then he just leant forward a bit, being the stupid proud creature that I am I just stuck my chin out and held my ground. Obviously he took this as an invitation as he then kissed me. His lips were chapped and so were mine, it wasn't chaste and it wasn't hard. It was just a kiss. But because I wasn't expecting it, I had no reason to be anxious, I looked like crap and he'd never spoken to me before. He never spoke to me again after that. He moved away after that summer. Goddamnit I don't even remember his last name.
But it was the best kiss I ever had.