I Remember Our First Kiss
It was after date three, right on time because you were about to get friend zoned. Ever since you had asked me out, I had been misunderstanding your actions. Conversation was light on the first date, which is natural on both ends. But on the second date, our study date, we actually studied. You didn't flirt, or much less talk to me that much. Your eyes were fixed on your computer, your thick fingers typing away at your philosophy paper. The light hitting your glasses at the perfect angle hid your eyes so that I could not see them, inadvertently adding more special effects to the 'nerd' persona.
Yeah, this was around the time you almost got friend zoned. We chatted and smiled and laughed, casually getting to know each other. But at some point, I grew bored. You were taking too long to kiss me.
We sat in that tiny room next to your dorm for hours, getting homework done for the remainder of the week. I found you attractive. You had large muscles bulging from your white T-shirt with a slim stomach to match. But your demeanor was killing me. As unexperienced as I was, I didn't want to waste time with someone who wasn't going to make a move.
Our third date was after out break at the end of February. By that point, we had watched each other's favorite movies and knew one another's values. But in the back of my mind was the cute Engineer major who lived just about an hour away from me. After break, you took me to the movies. Your low voice indicated that you had no idea what you were doing. From what I gathered, it had been weeks and you still hadn't touched me.
That weekend we saw American Sniper. I was sure that within the comfort of the dark theater you would make your move. And every time our arms touched I thought your thoughts reflected mine. Your hand would constantly move from your lap to your chin, and every time, I thought it was a clear sign that you wanted to hold my hand. After about thirty minutes of this, I gave up.
Days went by and nothing seemed to change. But one night, it seemed like my mind did. It was a simple text message. I had told you that your glasses made you look really shy and you said that I couldn't have been farther from the truth: that you were actually rather bossy. Bossy. That word drew me in. I asked you in what aspects you were bossy and your responses shocked me. The shy, virgin boy that I had imagined was not at all who you were. Your very response was: "I can show it better than I can tell it, but basically taking charge and being in control. Depends on what the girl likes like hard back shots, hair pulling, eating the box right, mild choking if she likes that... that was pretty watered down but like I said I can show it better than I can tell it."
I was so shocked by what you had said that it took me longer than usual to fall asleep. It wasn't that I was beyond interested in your desc<x>ription, or that I even longed for you at that particular moment. I was wrapped up in how the person I saw was not at all the person you are. So I grew curious. Maybe you were lying. Maybe you just wanted to look cool. But no one is daring enough to write that in a message and not put their money where their mouth was (no pun intended) Who was it that I had been spending my time with?
That weekend we made plans to watch a movie together - in your room. Your roommate was out of town and so we decided to watch your favorite TV show. We quickly gave up on that and agreed to Kevin Hart instead. I came in smelling nice and perfectly plucked- just in case. Kevin Hart was just an opening: a means to ease into what we had both been thinking about. But then again, we had both been thinking about different things. While I thought about our first kiss, your mind was all about the corner between my legs and the other curves of my body. But I overlooked all of that. I wanted to see you be different.
You seemed to be a combination of that message and of the person I had been seeing in you all along. Your glasses, along with your shirt, came off. Your ex<x>pression was much more intimidating that I could have ever imagined. You had very large eyes: eyes that didn't seem to look away due to the absence of the glasses. I slightly panicked, worrying about what I was going to do next. For almost an hour, we watched Kevin Hart. With your warm arms around me, my entire body burned with passion. Like two idiotic kindergartners, our faces drew closer and closer together until we clashed into a very awkward kiss.
I quickly made up my mind that despite your looks, your intense eyes, you were just as dorky as I thought you had been. But my mind was once again made up when you briskly placed me on top of your athletic body and began taking off my sweater. The kiss was awkward, the way all first kisses are: our mouths were not in unison and our teeth clashed one too many times. I remember pulling my head back, saying "I don't know what you're trying to do." You gave me a long look and pulled me right back into our kiss.
I was now under you and you politely asked me if I wanted to take my pants off. After debating whether I should or not, I decided to ditch them as well. Before I knew it, your hands were on my black lace panties, asking, once again, if it was okay to take them off. I said no and stuck with my decision. For some reason, your physical touch made all of the difference and everything that I overall liked about you seemed to be more important: like how studious you are, or the fact that you hadn't made a move up until this point despite how dorky it was, and that despite how small our campus was I knew nothing about you.
After my solid no, we lied there, your head on my belly, arms around my waste, for minutes that felt like seconds. After a while, your dark eyes looked up at me, then curiously asked me about my tattoo. After my personal explanation, I realized that you were someone I wanted to hold on to: that this time would be different, that I wouldn't lose interest because there always seemed to be a mystery about you.
I hadn't agreed to become exclusive for weeks. In the meantime, I had learned several different things about our encounters: you had been extremely polite because you did not want to rush me into anything and most importantly did not want to end up with any assault charges due to confusion and misunderstandings (I thought this was hilarious when you explained, but it really does happen). You had invited me to do homework together but didn't say much because even though you wanted to see me, you take your school work very seriously, as I also do. At the movies, you hadn't even thought of holding my hand. You were used to very fast paced girls, and had you had any intention of touching me at all that day, it would have been far beyond my comfort zone.
Because of our differences, our first kiss was, in my opinion, very sweet. It hadn't happened for weeks because you were being cautious and I was waiting for you to make the first move. But I truly believe it couldn't have happened any better way.
Yeah, this was around the time you almost got friend zoned. We chatted and smiled and laughed, casually getting to know each other. But at some point, I grew bored. You were taking too long to kiss me.
We sat in that tiny room next to your dorm for hours, getting homework done for the remainder of the week. I found you attractive. You had large muscles bulging from your white T-shirt with a slim stomach to match. But your demeanor was killing me. As unexperienced as I was, I didn't want to waste time with someone who wasn't going to make a move.
Our third date was after out break at the end of February. By that point, we had watched each other's favorite movies and knew one another's values. But in the back of my mind was the cute Engineer major who lived just about an hour away from me. After break, you took me to the movies. Your low voice indicated that you had no idea what you were doing. From what I gathered, it had been weeks and you still hadn't touched me.
That weekend we saw American Sniper. I was sure that within the comfort of the dark theater you would make your move. And every time our arms touched I thought your thoughts reflected mine. Your hand would constantly move from your lap to your chin, and every time, I thought it was a clear sign that you wanted to hold my hand. After about thirty minutes of this, I gave up.
Days went by and nothing seemed to change. But one night, it seemed like my mind did. It was a simple text message. I had told you that your glasses made you look really shy and you said that I couldn't have been farther from the truth: that you were actually rather bossy. Bossy. That word drew me in. I asked you in what aspects you were bossy and your responses shocked me. The shy, virgin boy that I had imagined was not at all who you were. Your very response was: "I can show it better than I can tell it, but basically taking charge and being in control. Depends on what the girl likes like hard back shots, hair pulling, eating the box right, mild choking if she likes that... that was pretty watered down but like I said I can show it better than I can tell it."
I was so shocked by what you had said that it took me longer than usual to fall asleep. It wasn't that I was beyond interested in your desc<x>ription, or that I even longed for you at that particular moment. I was wrapped up in how the person I saw was not at all the person you are. So I grew curious. Maybe you were lying. Maybe you just wanted to look cool. But no one is daring enough to write that in a message and not put their money where their mouth was (no pun intended) Who was it that I had been spending my time with?
That weekend we made plans to watch a movie together - in your room. Your roommate was out of town and so we decided to watch your favorite TV show. We quickly gave up on that and agreed to Kevin Hart instead. I came in smelling nice and perfectly plucked- just in case. Kevin Hart was just an opening: a means to ease into what we had both been thinking about. But then again, we had both been thinking about different things. While I thought about our first kiss, your mind was all about the corner between my legs and the other curves of my body. But I overlooked all of that. I wanted to see you be different.
You seemed to be a combination of that message and of the person I had been seeing in you all along. Your glasses, along with your shirt, came off. Your ex<x>pression was much more intimidating that I could have ever imagined. You had very large eyes: eyes that didn't seem to look away due to the absence of the glasses. I slightly panicked, worrying about what I was going to do next. For almost an hour, we watched Kevin Hart. With your warm arms around me, my entire body burned with passion. Like two idiotic kindergartners, our faces drew closer and closer together until we clashed into a very awkward kiss.
I quickly made up my mind that despite your looks, your intense eyes, you were just as dorky as I thought you had been. But my mind was once again made up when you briskly placed me on top of your athletic body and began taking off my sweater. The kiss was awkward, the way all first kisses are: our mouths were not in unison and our teeth clashed one too many times. I remember pulling my head back, saying "I don't know what you're trying to do." You gave me a long look and pulled me right back into our kiss.
I was now under you and you politely asked me if I wanted to take my pants off. After debating whether I should or not, I decided to ditch them as well. Before I knew it, your hands were on my black lace panties, asking, once again, if it was okay to take them off. I said no and stuck with my decision. For some reason, your physical touch made all of the difference and everything that I overall liked about you seemed to be more important: like how studious you are, or the fact that you hadn't made a move up until this point despite how dorky it was, and that despite how small our campus was I knew nothing about you.
After my solid no, we lied there, your head on my belly, arms around my waste, for minutes that felt like seconds. After a while, your dark eyes looked up at me, then curiously asked me about my tattoo. After my personal explanation, I realized that you were someone I wanted to hold on to: that this time would be different, that I wouldn't lose interest because there always seemed to be a mystery about you.
I hadn't agreed to become exclusive for weeks. In the meantime, I had learned several different things about our encounters: you had been extremely polite because you did not want to rush me into anything and most importantly did not want to end up with any assault charges due to confusion and misunderstandings (I thought this was hilarious when you explained, but it really does happen). You had invited me to do homework together but didn't say much because even though you wanted to see me, you take your school work very seriously, as I also do. At the movies, you hadn't even thought of holding my hand. You were used to very fast paced girls, and had you had any intention of touching me at all that day, it would have been far beyond my comfort zone.
Because of our differences, our first kiss was, in my opinion, very sweet. It hadn't happened for weeks because you were being cautious and I was waiting for you to make the first move. But I truly believe it couldn't have happened any better way.
26-30, M