My first kiss

Here's a fun one for the whole family. Actually, it isn't. This is for mature audiences only.

So as I may have mentioned, I was quite a boy for the first half of my life. I didn't act masculine, just dressed that way. But nonetheless, boys were not lining up at the door to kiss me in elementary nor middle school.

But the summer before my freshmen year of high school my life changed. I learned how to dress like a girl, took out the ponytail and actually wore my hair down, and lost a little bit of weight.

Enter my grandparent's hot nextdoor neighbor. Jesus Christmas was this guy cute. I loved going to visit G&G so I could spend a few good hours peering out the windows to see if he was in the backyard, laying out at the pool trying to hear him or see him over the fence, listening to him sing rap with his sister, etc. And then I found my in: he was a basketball player, and he had a hoop. So me and little brother Adam would use his hoop in the hopes that he would come out and play. Or, maybe Addy was genuinely interested in just playing, but whatevs.

And it worked. One day he came out to find us playing, me in my matching shiny tank and shorts workout outfit. He played with us, then as me and Adam decided to go inside, he called out to me and told me stay. Dear God in Heaven, now it was time to panic. So we played one on one, he showed me some new moves, then asked if I had a boyfriend. Then he asked how old I was...15 and he was 17. An older guy, I thought, that is so hot. Then came the big question: "Whenever you visit here, do you want to be going out?" Baahaha, "Okay" I said, and now I'm sweating and on the verge of throwing up from nerves. "Can I kiss you?" He asked. UM! Help! Okay, I said.

But instead of kissing me, he grabbed my hand and brought me somewhere in between his and my grandparent's house, leaned me against the fence and started kissing me. Ohhh my god, what am I doing. What do I do with my tongue. Do I pull away at all? Where do my hands go. Then when I couldn't figure out what I was doing, I asked with attitude: "Dont you know how to kiss without tongue?" Oh god, mistake. That was even weirder. So after pecking him awkardly a few several times, I abandoned that effort.

Then it got weird.

"Can you flash me real quick?" ...What? No. "Okay, tomorrow then" he'd say. His hands were trying to go everywhere, it was almost exhausting fighting it off. Then he turned me around and was kind of hugging me from the back, which embarrassed me. "Can you feel it?" he asked. "Feel what?" a naive, unsuspecting me asked. ...OH GOD. I figured it out, and whipped right back around. Then, finally, he asked if I would "watch him". When I said no, he again replied with, "Okay, tomorrow." So I said I had to go and he kissed me again and told me he'd see me tomorrow.

I went in the house, and something weird happened. I went from smiling and wantng to scream, to on the verge of crying, and back and forth. Then I went into the bathroom and leaned over the toilet thinking I was going to puke. What is wrong with me? I asked myself. I just KISSED somebody and he was CUTE. But I couldn't shake the nausea. So, I decided not to meet up wtih him the next day.

And then one year later, I read in the newspaper that he was convicted of several rape charges.

The end.