How to kiss?

My first kiss doesn't count as my first. It wasn't even a kiss, at first. It was a strange, frightening, completely awkward attempt by an attractive boy to whom I didn't feel any connection. Susie, my friend, and I were in our parents' house alone with two boys who were a year ahead. It was daylight, so it was likely a weekend. We were in our living room. I remember the long, painful silence and a feeling of increasing horror.

We were in ninth grade. They were in tenth. They were polite, greasy, confident, and "cool". We were not. It was supposed that we would feel humbled by the fact that these boys were hanging around with us.

The only thing I can remember is a complete lack of connection. It was so lackadaisical I don’t think anyone realized or cared who was supposed to be with whom. It was a silly spin-the-bottle game or something. It had a sinister side to it, and I'm glad nothing worse happened. We did, however, have an awkward, sloppy attempt to kiss each other. I just remember the squinting wetness of the blond boy, who was less petty and wanted to get out of my house. They left eventually.

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Susie and I babysat in the Oakland hills a while later. A few boys from a nearby school wanted to visit. One of them loved Susie. Mike was the friend he brought. Mike had sandy blonde hair, a tawny complexion, and beautiful brown eyes. He loved to play guitar. Sarah and the boy who loved her vanished behind closed doors.

We must have fallen asleep while caring for the children. Mike and I found ourselves awkwardly seated in the living room. We were separated by a cushion or two and were seated on the couch. He could hear the gurgling of an aquarium behind him.

I can't remember if they talked but I suspect we must have. Mike was taller than most and more confident. But most of all, Mike was kind. I was not surprised to find out that he really liked me. Then, somehow, they grew closer to each other and a kiss seemed in the cards. I don’t recall the preamble very well, but I do recall that we were kissing when he stopped. Gently.

He did what was right then, and that is still remarkable to me. He opened up about our kiss and the mechanics. He began to teach me how to kiss. He decided to teach me this important information. He didn't care if it would embarrass me or hurt me. In fact, it did the opposite.

Who can guess what I did to make him do it? Now I smile because it is so funny. Am I really opening my mouth like an open fish's eye? I forced my tongue down his throat. I don't know.

All I know is that his gentle and professional coaching began. He made suggestions. "Less tongue." He suggested that we try again. "Okay. A little more tongue." We'd like to try again. Relax.

He was supportive when I did it right. He didn't mock me. He also didn’t try to lead me on. He didn’t pretend to want me as his boyfriend. He didn't accept the opportunity to go farther, even though he likely had it. He was aware that I was young and inexperienced, so he didn’t take advantage.

Instead, he made amusement of himself and took me on as his acolyte.