My first kiss

excellent fecky! did you send her all your love every day in a sweater?

Oh, and there was I thinking it was a typo...

Andrea, Give me a break, I was only 36 when that incident happened.

Hmmm. My very first kiss was with Christopher Tidswell under the bell in the playground at school. He had shockingly bright blond hair - I must have been lured by his angelic looks! Then later in life (12 or 13) I practised kissing a pillow before I got to snog Ian Steele on a coach on a Youth Club trip to Cambridge - he was showing me how to kiss so that I could then turn to my side and snog Paul Arnold who was my allocated partner on the trip! How embarrassing!

I've heard mention of people who kiss pillows, but I always thought it was a lie put about by nihilists, anarchists and dissidents...

That's what I mean! I'd suspected as much...

Seriously, What is a kiss? Is it a sign of greeting or goodbye ... ? I am told proper kiss has really nothing to do with lips. Condrad once described something deep and meaningful as necking. As a mid-teen, I was necked once at St Servac dance, a saint who thaws not only snow but even hearts. Drinking absinthe did not help my first necking. (grin)

Can make you go blind, too, Josef. Before you all start, I meant absinthe...

The bottom of the school playing field with a boy called Tufty whose whole family could do headstands.. A haystack..an isloated field...a hot summer day...wild strawberries.... Back of the school bus...... I can't remember the rest.. I must remeber to stop accessing this site..it's way too addictive..I'm even doing this at work

Stefan Wakeham on the school field at the tender age of 11. It was all a bit of a surprise really, he grabbed and tongued in front of everyone, I remember being quite astonished and rather pleased. I was new at the school, having come to a big bad city in the South East from the innocence of the Midlands and village life, so it included me in the groovey gang for a while. Until he dumped me, very publicly, not really fair as I didn't understand the whole 'boyf/girlf thing' yet and hadn't held his hand enough, men! It is amazing how much better kissing gets over the years, I'd quite like one now, Dan dan where are you...

Was his name Tufty Smart?

I once had the nickname 'Tufty'. The bottom of the school playing field with a girl whose name was long forgotten. A haystack..an isloated field...a hot summer day...wild strawberries.... Back of the school bus...... I CAN remember the rest.. unfortunately, my parents, to the best of my knowledge never performed handstands. Oh well.

45 mins? Gawd luv us!!! You lucky girl... Honestly can't remember mine (which don't say much for the bloke wot participated, do it?). Probably some fumbling, slobbery affair in a graveyard somewhere... And there have been so many since...sigh.

I was sixteen, a relatively late starter in my 'circle'. We got to that intimate moment on the sofa and all I could think about is all the books I'd read and the weepy, black and white films I'd seen (I didn't get out much). We kissed, quite chastely really and then the 'passion' of the moment made me tell the poor chap that I loved him. Well, that's what the heroine of films did and I was a poor, over-romantic, dreamy, soppy soul. He was quite astounded and the moment was then totally ruined by two of my friends, who had been hiding behind the sofa, popping up and collapsing beside us in fits of giggles. Sad really but I did continue to see him for well over a year and ......hum.....it did get better. Much better (blushes and exits right).

Well, they obviously weren't that Smart then, were they? Geddit? Smart? Billy? Handstands? Gawd, I give up...

I remeber vaguely that it might have been a second cousin at a family party. I remember that I was very moved, but not in the obvious regions, more of a heartfull type of achy thing, I had a crush on her. Do you know we might have just held hands, now I think about it, but it felt as important as a first kiss!

Mine was on the Spanish mainland, in Salou, on my 15th birthday...with a greasy Spanish 24 year old guy. He was a handyman for the hotel l was staying in with my family for 2 weeks, and his name was Gregorio. He was dressed head to toe in stiff navy denim, and had apparently marinaded in Brut. (Yes, it's unfortunately indelibly printed on my memory). We danced to The Gibson Brothers and Rod Stewart (that is the most shameful part), and then he dragged me off to the bushes behind the swimming pool for a surreptitious snog, away from my 9 year old limpetesque sister. A few hours after at about 4am, after having applied liberal amounts of nivea to my stubble rashed tender young face, I woke to find him sat, minus his shirt, on the end of my bed, predatory glint in eye, and the hotel pass key to my room in hairy mitt. *Brrrr*

And.....???????

Andrea, now you opened my eyes.It was Absinthe not love that made me go blind (G*in)

Andrea, now you opened my eyes.It was my virgin Absinthe not my fist love that made me go blind (G*in)

Fist love, Josef? Do elaborate...

14 years old, I was with my mate and his sister, I kissed his sister, and he kissed my sister. My sister was 18 months younger, and it wasn't her first kiss, for the three others there, it was, and we all enjoyed it.........ahhhhhh Still see her from time to time, never kissed her again.......

*still waiting for mine*

* chokes on supper*

Paid?

*choles on morning tea*

Me too fish.........perhaps we could meet??

In fact, choking so hard that I cannot hit the "k"

Come on, let me know. We folks up North love a fish supper ;-)

I take Liana's advise. Flaming the spirit of the first kiss could caused further damage to my rather fragile reputation. Enjoy the Bohemian liquid wherever you are Liana (grin)

Ah, my first kiss! I was 13 and at the end of my 7th Grade year. A friend of mine had thrown a huge party and of course no one was exactly dancing. I remember that I was staying with a friend of mine for the weekend. Anyway, there I was, standing at one corner of the dance floor feeling utterly lonely, even though I had my friends all around me and I had this pathetic drunken smile on my face (experimenting with booze, you see!). All of us feeling a bit brave, we summoned up a group of guys and we exited the building. Huddling behind a rosebush in the garden we played (take a guess!) Truth, Dare or Command. It came round to my turn to be dared and I either had to kiss oh so heavenly Mark or..... I had to take off my top and run through the house. The choice was obvious! The kiss was meant to last for five minutes only but ended up going for ten minutes at least! I was in seventh heaven! The only problem was, that my friend really fancied this particular guy... Lets just say that staying the weekend with her wasn't exactly the time of my life... more like walking on ice about a quarter of an inch thick! The kiss was all good though! Unfortunately, I never saw Mark again...

Is it just me or are you all applying some kind of filter to how you define your first kiss? Didn't any of you play kiss-chase in the infant school playground? I'm willing to admit I did and the first girl I caught (or was it 'got caught by') was called (unbelievable but yet true) Jane Eyre. To be strictly honest her name was Jane Ayre but as far as I'm concerend that's close enough. As it turned out this was my good luck because she was the only girl in the school whose parents had a TV. We're talking 1954 here, which meant I was 5 at the time. Our relationship kind of fizzled out when she wanted to watch Bill and Ben and I wanted to watch Jungle Jim. Obviously, she won - don't they always, lads. Anyway it was her tele. First 'real' kiss (as in 'tongues') was on the car park of The Black Horse public house, Thompson Avenue, Parkfields, Wolverhampton. I was thirteen. Girls name - how the hell should I know - it was a one-night stand. All the same I can still taste her 39 years later and whats more I can tell you she was wearing a white T-shirt, a bright green mini-skirt and white bobby-sox with a matching green line round the top. Before electric kiss we got to know one another by discussing the merits of a really third-rate pop song that was doing the rounds, entitled (I think) 'The Peppermint Twist.' Needless to say, we both loved it so it wasn't like we didn't have things in common before we consumated our relationship. If it didn't sound quite so 'sad-old-bastard' I might even admit to loving her to this very day, whoever the hell she was. First girl I kissed and knew name of was Jennifer Shortley and believe me, that's all I'm prepared to say about that except to ask her, if by some chance she reads this thread 'Did you have to be quite so damn careless with my heart, Jenny?' PS. Does anyone remember/know anything about this song? I think it was by someone called 'Joey Somebody and the Somethings.' It's not that it matters but I'd like confirmation that I didn't just imagine this event or, worse yet, make it up.

Joey D and the Starlighters. I'm making things worse for myself aren't I......

Yes, I used to play kiss-chase. Not, unfortunately, in the school playground, though. Our exalted venue was the local cemetary, cavorting and frolicking amongst the gravestones. RIP. Even worse, all the boys used to run like the clappers and scream blue murder if they were pinned down by a depairing and desperate me, clad only in NHS specs, t-shirt, shorts and M&S sandals... Oh, for the good ol' days.

Andrea, I am still trying the approach and attire you describe to this day. Is that why fish has not yet responded to my offer do you think?

Dave, I'd give up if I were you - all I used to get was a black eye and hideous frustration for my pains... And not much has changed since. The NHS specs are definitely passe, despite John Lennon's best efforts...

Honestly, Josef! Fist love? Bohemian liquid? Methinks you go too far! Reputation...?

Yes, John L. - I thought it was all abit "filtered" too. After tentative snogs at primary school, I had a french kiss with my first girlfriend at aged 11 (it lasted 2 weeks, which was ages). My first gay kiss, when I was fifteen, was much better.

Her name was Sue Pettican. Her brother, Steve, was a mate of mine who grew up to become an excellent rock guitarist, but unfortunately got addicted to heroin. I wonder whatever became of him. I hope he sorted his life out because he was a nice guy, and very talented. Anyway, Sue Pettican and I used to meet and go to the pictures and walk in the park and sit listening to Jethro Tull’s Aqualung album or Jimi Hendrix’ Purple Haze on a battery-operated mono record player that was my prize possession. One time, as we walked along an alley behind some houses in Wembley, we tried to kiss. We kind of held each other, closed our eyes, and then attempted to aim for each other’s mouth. This seemed impossibly hard with our eyes closed, but after a couple of near misses we managed it. We flattened our lips awkwardly to each other and then - because we both still had our eyes closed - fell over. We collapsed against the fence and tumbled indelicately to the floor. We picked ourselves up, smiled bashfully at each other and I walked her home. Neither of us ever mentioned it again. I studied film stars after that, analysing their techniques, but could never understand how they would manage to kiss with their eyes closed and not fall over. And to be truthfull, to this day I still haven’t quite mastered it.

Well, I'll count you out as one of the writers I want to snog then...!

Blimey, Liana is there nothing you don't know? Am even more impressed than after the Nirvana lyric song thing. I can remember it a bit more clearly now. I think they (Joey anf his Starlight mates) 'starred' in a teen-film called 'The Peppermint Lounge' which I went to see at the local flea-pit 'The Clifton'. The Clifton eventually got closed down by 'The Authorities' for showing one too many dodgy film featuring Swedish girls who obviously hadn't bothered to trouble the wardrobe staff. This was a severe setback to my education, believe me and meant I had to find something else to do with the days I wagged of school. After they shut The Clifton I used to spend my days in a brilliantlly dubious 'coffee bar' called Milano - The Mill to the cogniscenti. It was so dark down there you didn't know if you were drinking espresso or disguarded washing-up liquid. Except that the washing-up liquid was always a bit warmer. If you think the taste would have been an indication you obviously never had a Mill Espresso. Cafe Latte, Mocha and Cappucino were a total mystery to the Mill's proprietor. Little Tom, you know this 'it lasted two weeks' - was that the kiss or the entire relationship? In my experience this is a very long time for one kiss - Guinness record lenght probably and about average for a relationship. Wonder what it is about graveyards and novice sex, Andrea? An awful lot of it seems to go on even to this day. You wouldn't think the proximity of all them bones them bones them dry bones would do much for the libido but somehow it seems to work. Wonder what Freud would have to say about it? PS. Liana - New pub quiz league starts week on Sunday (White Hart, Shifnal). We're a bit shaky on music so if ever you're a round Wolves how do you fancy making a guest appearance?

Little Tom Why have you started a thread entitled 'First Kiss' when there's already one going called 'My First Kiss'? Now I'm sure to tell one story on one thread and a completely different one on the other, thus exposing myself as a liar and braggart.

"It started with a kiss Never thought it would come to knit."