I apologize in advance for the very candid nature of this post. Just think of this as a post-valentine treat :)
Amidst my seemingly worldly ways, I am very inexperienced when it comes to the sexual dealings of men and women. I have only been "physical" with two men, the first one being a mistake. My total inability to express myself sexually was only rectified a few years back when I started dating my dear fiance (soon to be husband). But there is one thing that I have always liked since I was a young girl of 13.
I absolutely love kissing.
I would not pretend to be some delicate little China doll because the truth of the matter is I have kissed heaps of boys... and girls too - done during my young, experimental stage. Kissing to me is the most intimate of all acts, more so than sex. There is a reason why prostitutes charge extra for a kiss because this is one performance you cannot possibly fake.
Kissing isn't just about lips touching and tongues dancing merrily. It's the pressure, the breathlessness, the gentle touches and sometimes wayward hands. I've had my share of kisses - sloppy, dry, sucky, tongue wrestling - you name it, I've done it. Kissing is definitely on the top of my list of things I love to do!
My first kiss was, as any first kiss is, very sweet and short. R, my first boyfriend, is a year younger and a couple of batches lower in school. I was 12 when we first kissed and it was electric. Going back to the days when kissing does not always constitute sex, all I had to do was remember the feeling of our kisses and I would be rendered useless for the rest of the day, just day dreaming and wishing for another kiss. R was a great kisser. He was sweet and always kept his hands to himself. We were together for 11 months and when we weren't playing sport (real sport like basketball to the pervs out there :p) with friends or chatting over the phone, we'd go to our secret spot in school and kiss for hours. What a simple life I led back then.
As any young love story, we thought it would last forever but alas it wasn't so. I had to go to high school and he was left behind to complete elementary school. I was heartbroken and never thought I would love someone else. I always hugged the Garfield doll he gave me from his trip to the States one summer as if I'm in mourning.
A month later, I got into a one month "kissing" relationship with a neighbour whom I really didn't like but just wanted to snog - oh boy, was my mum pissed off!
I got sent to an all-girl Catholic school for my first year of high school - according to my mum, it should instill discipline. It was a culture shock - from a school full of obnoxious, sometime perverted, boys to a whole school of skirts - I was freaked out! But it didn't last long...