Best kisses are easy to describe. Just that melty, ooh-baby thing going on.
What about your worst though? Which kiss, after all this time, do you still remember as, “Ugh!”
Mine was Martha - a nice enough girl - bit of a wall-flower socially - bit pudgy (and so was I). We went together on an all-day trip to visit a remote college on a recruitment day. High school seniors out for the day.
I had hopes, see. I knew she “put out”, her previous boyfriend wasn’t exactly discreet on this, and I had hopes for a little after-date action.
So - we returned from the trip, parked the car and I leaned in.
I was like getting kissed by a washing machine. Her tongue shot into my mouth and starting making circles. Round and round and round and round again. I don’t know who taught her to kiss but he didn’t do a good job. I tried to slow her down, give her a little time and gentle instruction to get more gentle but it didn’t take. She’d go right back to the washing machine technique.
Shoulda been the best kiss of my life, as I’d had a crush on Jason since junior high and it was 2 years after high school graduation when he planted one on me out of the blue. I think he meant it as some great gift to me (he knew all along about my crush). It was like someone took a warm, wet sponge and tapped it repeastedly against my mouth and cheeks. Then when I pulled back out of surprise and he leaned in again, I got out of the car with an excuse. The next time I saw him, he asked me what I was thinking when he kissed me. I told him I always thought I’d see fireworks when he finally kissed me ‘someday’. He smiled smugly until I told him that hadn’t been the case. In retrospect, I wish he’d kissed me in 8th grade, then I wouldn’t have wasted 4 more years chasing him fruitlessly.
It was a heated and romantic moment as we both leaned in, our lips touching gently and parting slowly … and with my eyes closed it seemed like…
…5 pounds of cremated Marlboro Lights had suddenly been shoved into my mouth for storage.
She murmured into my mouth as I fought every instinct in my body to run and spit repeatedly. A TV was playing in the background; a commercial for a movie that was about to start was playing. And I could hear some actors voice seemingly yelling at me “You started this thing, and now by God, you’re going to finish it”! Afterwards I managed a smile and I excused myself to the Mens room to wash out my mouth and to try to wipe the taste of ash off my tongue with wet paper towels. Looking back through rose colored glasses, I still have to admit: even wet paper towels tasted better than that kiss.
A big open mouth kiss from the nicest guy I’ve ever known. Seriously, if he’d known how to kiss, we’d be celebrating our 50th anniversary in a couple of years.
If I’d been older, I might have had the courage to tell him that swallowing half the girl’s face isn’t a kiss.
The next worse kiss was close-mouthed but really hard. I thought he was gonna break my teeth. Next time you watch a movie made in the 40’s and 50’s, watch how the guy kisses. Mouth closed, pressed hard against the lady’s lips. I guess since the Hays Code didn’t allow open-mouth kissing, the next best way to show passion was to kiss hard.
Natasha, everything else was beyond fine, but I for one didn’t get much out of having your entire tongue, fully extended and hard as your highly toned, athletic posterior, rammed deep into my throat. I was worried there for a second that you might have been an alien trying to plant an embryo in my esophagus. Sorry if you felt teased by the way I evaded your oral tentacle for the rest of the night.
Same here! We’d both been drinking so I don’t know that he wouldn’t get better with sobriety*, but he basically opened his mouth and placed it over around mine, with tongue extended.
*He couldn’t get it up from being drunk so he left and I never saw him again.
She was called Mary Nightingale and she was about 12 years old, I was her toy boy of a mere 11 summers.
Anyway: One day we went for a walk and she told me she had something to show me.
Trailing along in her wake like a gullible and lovestruck callow youth I allowed her to take me to that most romantic of places, an old bomb site…thanks Adolf, thanks very fucking much you bastard.
“Here, over here” she said, “Hurry up”
I hurried, as I turned the corner near the side of the wrecked house she pounced, flung me onto this mangy, mouldy and thoroughly piss wet through old tattered sofa and proceeded to try to suck out my navel by way of my mouth.
Her fucking breath stank like the farts of a thousand foetid goats with haemmorhoids.
That was without doubt the worst memory of what otherwise was a pretty good childhood
A guy, a couple of years older than I was, who lived at the other end of the street on which I grew up. He was teh hot (of course, this was more than 25 years ago, we didn’t use those terms back then). I was pretty young - 13 probably.
He basically opened his mouth, placed it over mine, gently extended his tongue, and…left it all there. Motionless, while his saliva kinda trickled into my mouth.
When I was about sixteen, I went out on a couple of dates with a guy I worked with. He was very, very cute and I couldn’t understand why he didn’t have a girlfriend…until he kissed me. I don’t know what the hell he was doing, but when he drew back, I was wet from the eyes down. We were sitting in his car at the restaurant we both worked at, and I was so creeped out by this, I just jumped out of the car and walked away, with him going, “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I just kept saying “Nothing!”
Another girl at work liked him also, and I told her to go right ahead, I didn’t like him much. A few days later, she told me how he had slobbered all over her face as well. (“Why didn’t you tell me?!”)
We were in the shower and he said he’d never showered with a girl before. This apparently made him very excited and nervous. We started making out and he sucked on my tongue with the force of a small Hoover. I couldn’t help giggling and told him to take it easy on the tongue there. My tongue was actually sore for about a week.
The one that sticks out is the woman that sucked on my tongue so hard that she tore that little flap of skin that connects it to my lower jaw. I was spitting up blood for an hour.
Sweet girl, hot body, but she wore braces and despite having a mouth that sported a broad infectious smile, she barely could open her mouth very wide at all during kissing. Frenching her was like picking a lock, and that left very little room for either of us to maneuver or get comfortable.
Sadly, the sex wasn’t much better (though I’m willing to take partial blame for that).
Tongue like a piston; in-out-in-out; suck my tongue for a few moments, return and repeat in-out thing; bite lips, tongue in ear, swirly-swirly, meanwhile panting as if she had just run a mile; her tongue generated water, I swear it did. Plus, she was bigger and stronger than me; when I ventured to touch her breasts she didn’t slap me but she did shove me all the way across the seat of my car. We were like fifteen IIRC and we never, needless to say, dated again.
By pure coincidence my audition partner was an actress I knew, had gone to acting school with, and we had worked at the same bank. But all of that was a few years before. We were tangentially in the same social circle. I always thought she was talented but we never made any kind of connection. She had a rather aloof demeanor.
So, I walk into the studio, see her, exchange pleasantries.
Then the director explains the scene - we are doctors, we have the raging hots for each other, this is the moment when we finally, after all the sexual tension, let it explode. We are supposed to go at each other like animals!
The look in her eyes at this point was absolute horror!
Let’s just say she couldn’t summon up her considerable acting ability. We started the scene - I walk in, turn her around, and plant one on her. From her - nuthin’. She couldn’t deal with it, she stopped the scene and walked out. (I hope she ran to the bathroom and puked.)
Honestly, it probably would have been easier with a complete stranger, not someone you had already established in your mind as ‘eh, not so much…’
I probably would have done better with my mom…no, my dad! (At least they kinda like me).
Once again I thank God I’m married and haven’t had to date for lo these many years.
I’ve experienced the tongue-sucker and the face-licker as well, but the very worst one was the guy who apparently thought that French kissing meant licking the fronts of another person’s teeth in a rotary motion until she pushed him away.
