So what's the questionnaires demographic hadjiboy? Maybe I'm not in the demographic either...

Um, people who have actually gotten kissed by a girl at some point in their lives (other than the ones who are related to them of course)... I'm assuming that you guys and gals have had better luck at that than I've had:)

Well, there's different kinds of first kisses. There's the first kiss from a member of the gender I fancy (no clue who that was, although I'd guess it was someone at the Xmas dance in 7th grade); the first kiss that actually meant something (I know who it was, but the details of the event are lost in the mists of time); the first kiss I ever regretted (I know the details, but am not sharing); and the first kiss with Science Girl (indelibly etched into my mind, but once again I'm not sharing details - for entirely different reasons).

Being that I knew I was gay early on, and this was immensely unpopular, I felt the need to "try" girls, just for kicks. So, one day in 8th grade, my on/off GF Brandi was over and we were talking about hypnosis (both nerds). She said that she bet she could hypnotize me, and I played along. Once in my "trance," she suggested that I kiss her. Aaah, braces and Cherry Coke. My first gay kiss was with a boy who lives a group home where my mother worked. Ethical boundaries aside, she'd take me to work with her, presumably as a role model for the wayward youth. There I met Frankie, my age and all, but a ruffian from then-exotic New York. He swooned me, kissed me, then explained how to get high by sniffing fertilizer.

Oh, to be young again...

Yes. Hmm. mmm.. OH MY GOD TONGUE EEEW GROSS! And then my mom entered the room. *dies of embarrasment again* The experience successfully kept me away from boys for another three years

Yes, but I don't remember my second kiss.

My first kiss was behind my then-crush-soon-to-be-boyfriend's (super-liberal, but still) church, while he was supposed to be minding some teenagers (we were in college) during some youth camp thing he thought he'd have to work for just a few hours but got roped into for the entire evening, which had sort of ruined my whole driving-up-to-visit-for-the-weekend idea.

We had actually calmed the kids down quite a bit and most of them had dozed off, but I persisted in being a flirtatious jerk by kicking him through his sleeping bag, and basically the frisson was such that we were either going to have to leave the room to make out or just erupt into giggles and all kinds of other slouching-toward-PG13 behavior, so through an elaborate exchange of discreet hand motions and eye movements we decided to go outside one by one, whence we reached a darkened corner of some unused area of the church grounds.

It was awesome. And he smelled fantastic.

My first kiss was a joke. Seriously -- it happened in Readers' Theatre practice in high school, when we were all lined up to rehearse our entrance once again. Keep in mind that I've always been overweight and was somewhat awkward in high school, especially around guys. For some reason, I turned around to see the back of the line, and Jay (who was behind me, and who was a real cute redhead who was way out of my league) more or less up and kisses me in front of our coach and 14 people. You know, one of those quick cute kisses. I think he was put up to it.

The scary thing is, that isn't the least private impulse kiss I've ever gotten. That honor would go to the former student who, when all the students were processing in for graduation (faculty stood near their students' chairs after getting them seated, and his department got seated after mine), grabbed and kissed me as he walked past. He, too, was a redhead. What is it about redheads?

Haha, dabitch: my mother saw my first kiss as well! Not surprising because it was in the field beside our house with a young lad who was visiting friends for summer vacation. I can't even remember his name. Jason? hrm.

My first really kiss was at this party in high school. I was drunk and this girl was kissing ANYONE. . .so I sorta, well didn't get in line but lingered and made my self available. All I remember was this terrible mother-of-pearl eyeshadow, her tongue, and the fact that I got ribbed intensely the next monday at school.

No clue as to her name.

I don't remember the kiss itself, but I clearly remember the context. I was 5, it was my friend Matthew's last day at school before leaving to move to Dalgety and we kissed in our little cubby hidden in the bushes at school at little lunch.

Oh, by first kiss I was meaning my first... I dunno...grown up kiss? With tongues, after flirting and suchlike. I had plenty of kisses as a little kid, hiding with boys in various places around school and suchlike. I don't count those, though.

Absolutely!

I remember my first "grown-up" kiss (at middle school summer camp), my first french kiss (with my first college beau), AND my first kiss with MuddDude (which was his first kiss). They were all sweet in their own way.

Of course, there's also the first time I played spin the bottle, and the first time I kissed a girl to impress the guys (ah, college). Not to mention the first time I was french-kissed by a girl (college, again).

Oh sure okay - there was my 'boyfriend' Tazio down the back of the oval before the school social in grade 5, lots of tongue and sloppiness and he tasted of Life Savers and Fanta, but my first proper kiss was with my boyfriend Joe in grade 7, at a party where we drank strawberry champagne for the first time and then played '2 minutes in the closet'.

Ohh, muddgirl, first girl kisses are even trickier - those got progressively hotter pretty continuously through primary school! I think my first proper girl kiss was with Suzue in grade 5 - she was a Brazilian gymnast (in Australia) and tiny and gorgeous and had the cutest accent (she recently got in touch with me - she is now a solicitor in Sao Paulo) - when she slept over one night and we were playing weddings.

And, she was the groom. And almost a foot shorter than me.

yep. nerd camp at truman state university, the summer between seventh and eighth grade, in the mail room. it was pretty awesome, as I recall. also had my first french kiss with the same girl later that week.

in retrospect, two things occur to me:
1. She was a really sort of sloppy french kisser, and not in a good way. But I had no basis for comparison! and a girl was kissing me! cool!
2. I still am friends with her on facebook, and our college experiences could not be more different. I actually went and visited some friends from high school at the school she was attending at the time, and ran into her and my only other friend I was still in contact with from camp; I discovered that both of them had changed very little, while I had changed a great deal since junior high (in good ways! I'd grown up a lot between eight grade and my freshman year of college). Needless to say, the whole visit was extremely awkward and I really haven't talked to either of them since. I think that first-kiss-girl transferred to an even smaller state uni in missouri and is a safety sciences major or something now.

regardless, I think that the first kiss thing specifically (and nerd camp generally) was really good for me in terms of self-esteem and stuff. It helped me realize that girls did actually like intelligent, nerdy, sarcastic guys sometimes, and that the fact that most people at my tiny catholic elementary school ignored me wasn't because i was unattractive or socially inept; it was because they were jerkfaces. I think this fact helped me navigate high school in a way that allowed me to remain sane. Plus, I was an awesome kisser by the time I started dating (no sloppy, drool-y french kissing!)

On post-view: God, this was long. I don't know if it was really all that transformative of an experience, or if it's still close enough to where I am now age-wise (seven or eight years now? I can't do math) that I can still remember most of the details.

Ha, I remember my first kiss with mr. gaspode because it was probably the only first kiss of my twenties that I was (basically) sober for. And I didn't really know how to negotiate the whole "first kiss" thing without alcohol on board... hell it was probably my first sober first kiss since I was 17 come to think of it.

That's... not very good, is it?

I honestly don't remember. I remember my first "real" boyfriend - oh wait, maybe I don't. The chronology gets a little mixed up but I know it was 9th grade. Or the summer between 8th and 9th grade? It was either Brooks or Seth; the boyfriends came and went rather quickly back in the day. Anyway I know we did a lot of kissing but I think that just perhaps he wasn't really the first.

8 or 9, with the naughty son of a preacher man; and it was great. But then I spent the next five or six years punching anyone who tried. Then, when I was around 15, with Marty who lived up the street. I thought it was embarrassing, but also pretty meh. And to be honest... nothing really knocked my socks off for many years after that, either. And nothing ever made me faint-y, weak in the knees, "just wrap it up it's all over now, I can die happy" - 'til I kissed my (second) husband when I was around 30 years old. I think I just have to be really, really in love to be blown away, and that only happened at 8 and 30.

I've been told that my first kiss was in second grade, with a guy I'll still exchange occasional e-mails with. I don't remember at all.

The first kiss I remember was at age 11 with my "boyfriend" E. It was upstairs in our attic, in a "fort" we'd built with old furniture, and it was sweet. But there were other kids around, so it was quick, too.

I was 19 years and 364 days old and I was celebrating my birthday in a gay bar in San Francisco. She was Irish and in love with America, so she had overstayed her visa. I think she asked me to dance because it was my birthday and she was being nice. I was drunk. I kissed her. She left with someone else.

I don't know why I mentioned that she was Irish, other than that she had jet-black hair and ice-blue eyes and porcelain skin. Beautiful.

Strangely, I don't remember my first kiss with a boy, but there have been many.

Mine was with him, but 14 years ago. We were watching M*A*S*H on the couch.

I remember both my first kisses. The girl was Maria and the guy was the mister. Both kisses were awesome.

I was 19, almost 20, and (like most people) not brilliant at it the first go-round. Fortunately, my teacher had a lot of experience. (A suspicious amount, I realized in retrospect.) We dated for about a month before he dumped me a few days prior to my birthday. Great lesson in kissing, then, if not so much in romance!

8th grade. Jurassic Park on the big screen. The scene where the little boy is pushed up against a cupboard while a couple velociraptors skulk around behind him, perilously close. Vinny leaned over, stuck his tongue down my throat. I ran out of the theater and drank ice cold water from the fountain 'til my mouth was numb. Probably shoulda been a hint that I wasn't straight.

First kiss: 7th grade. Winter. Had gone over to his house after school and then he was allowed to walk me halfway home. There was a lot of snow, and it was really cold, and he got a bloody nose. So I kissed a boy with a bloody nose, and it was magical.

First french kiss: Decidedly less positive experience, perhaps because I was a little bit snobby about his pin-striped jeans, which I believed belonged on no man. At nerd camp at a small college in Michigan. In a tent. His last name was "Dick" which was also mortifying.

Another fun experience of this camp was the dances we had. One young man, whatwashisname, DEAN, yes Dean. Dean and I were slow dancing and he got an erection. Fabulous young man that he was, he straightforwardly mentioned it, said he was sorry, and explained that he didn't really have control over it. For a 13 year old boy that was just fantastically mature.

What fun to think about!

My first kiss was behind my then-crush-soon-to-be-boyfriend's (super-liberal, but still) church, while he was supposed to be minding some teenagers (we were in college) during some youth camp thing he thought he'd have to work for just a few hours but got roped into for the entire evening, which had sort of ruined my whole driving-up-to-visit-for-the-weekend idea.

We had actually calmed the kids down quite a bit and most of them had dozed off, but I persisted in being a flirtatious jerk by kicking him through his sleeping bag,

Reminds me of a lightbulb joke:

Q: How many Unitarian youth ministers does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

A: Hey, they don't screw in lightbulbs -- they screw in sleeping bags!

My first kiss age 3 1/2.
≡ Click to see image ≡

I wrote about my first kiss here and somewhere on Metachat, I'm sure, but here it is again:

I was a late bloomer.

In seventh grade, I had one close male friend: Alfred. Alfred was just my height, slim, with wispy black hair always in need of a trim, and the shadow of a mustache blooming on his lip. His voice was gentle and he put a mouth over his hand when he laughed, like a Japanese schoolgirl.

I was a chunky girl with thick glasses, a clumsy haircut, and a ready braying laugh, always carrying a stack of books.

He never talked to me about girls, not even my pretty friends. I think maybe I had decided he wasn't interested in girls, though I never gave it much conscious thought.

One day as we walked down the hallway together, talking in desultory fashion of the Honors English class we'd left, Alfred suddenly pushed me into the nook that housed the drinking fountain. Trapped there in the cinder-block corner, I opened my eyes wide, and closed my gaping mouth just in time as he loomed in and planted a kiss on me.

He pulled back, looked me softly in the eyes, a question on his face.

Reader, I punched him.

Really. I don't know where this instinct was born. I didn't intend it, I was ashamed of it then, and I'm ashamed of it now. I hauled off and socked him in the eye. He sported a faint shadow of a black eye for days, a week... I don't really know how long, since we stopped spending much time together after that.

Aw, arsey, you look so cute!

I knew that kissing, or at least your first kiss, was a bit of a mile-stone in America, but I had no idea you ladies had started so young. Ah, I can only imagine how lucky the guys must've felt.

My only regret with the crushes that I've had is that I've not been able to kiss even a single one of them, and I would've loved to have kissed each and every one of 'em, by golly!

Really. I don't know where this instinct was born. I didn't intend it, I was ashamed of it then, and I'm ashamed of it now. I hauled off and socked him in the eye.

:)

Cool!

I think my first kiss and my first French kiss are the same ones. 14 years old, and afraid that I was a late bloomer because all my other female friends had boyfriends that I was convinced they were kissing and possibly getting to third base with (under the skirt/pants, right next to the skin). He was two years older, and the relative of a girl in a talent show that I was the co-emcee for. She, my co-emcee, the girl, her brother and the guy (who I will call "Dave") hung out and walked all over my middle school campus, talking and flirting. I was wearing what I liked to call my "business suit"--a brown pencil skirt and shirt in rayon that I'd gotten from the Philippines with long gold heart-shaped earrings and black pumps. I think I may have looked 16 with that ensemble on, and sensible makeup, and whatnot.

Dave and I walked and walked, and eventually ditched the entourage to stand in a breezeway corridor. He said he wanted to kiss me, and I told him I'd never been kissed before. So he taught me. Slowly, and patiently. And I was so caught up in the moment that we lost track of time and the show started late when we were finally able to get back to our senses.

So yeah...

My first kisses years 5 through 12 was with a boy from a family that was very close to my family -- the 'rents would put us to sleep in bunkbeds after we kissed each other and then they would stay up and play cards and drink. I still think they intended for us to marry. He was a couple of years older, but they still set him up to give me a guided tour around uni some years later. And he was CUTE and sweet, and I, no not ever, got a real proper kiss from him.

Talk about late bloomer--I just saw this thread. Mine was freshman year of college, second semester, to boot, near the end of the year, even, just 3 months before I turned 19. On the plus side, though, I lost my virginity the same night (yes, to the same woman).

My could-have-been first kiss was from a boy that was in my circle of friends. He was nerdy, awkward, and yet an exhibitionist at the same time. He was a magician, once wore a cape to school on the day of our D&D game (we boycotted), and smirked a lot. It was ninth or tenth grade. For whatever reason we had all swung by his house to pick up something. On our way out I was the last one in the foyer with him. He leaned against the wall and blocked my way out. I remember his face getting closer... his pursed lips... and good grief that smug smirk was on his face. I clearly remember thinking THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE MY FIRST KISS... I ducked under his arm and fastwalked to the car.

My first "real" kiss, like a kiss that was with tongue and got my private parts tingling, was with a French foreign exchange student. It was at a party somewhere in my condo complex, I was wearing a fedora, and I think that was what got her attention. Her name was Delphine Rousseau, and she was beautiful and had a French accent and wore a tight cotton undershirt with no bra underneath. I wrote her once when she went to France, and she wrote me back, then somehow it dropped off. I was maybe 13, 14? Can't remember now exactly. But I remember we had 3 makeout sessions, and she let me feel her boobs!!!!1!! I had never had a boob in my hand before, and it was the most excellent thing in the world!!!1

I still love you Delphine, thank you very much for all that excellent stuff.

I shit you not, I am not making this up.