How to kiss?

My first kiss is not the same as my first one. It was not the first kiss. It was an awkward, scary, and completely awkward attempt by an unattractive boy with whom I had no connection. Susie, my friend, and I were left alone at home with two boys one year ahead of us. It was probably daytime. We were in the living area. I can only recall long, painful silences that lasted for hours and an increasing terror.

We were in the ninth grade. They were in the tenth grade. They were confident, pimply, greasy, and diffident. They were "popular". We weren't so much. These boys should have felt flattered, I think.

It was a complete lack of connection that I can recall. It was so lackadaisical, I don't believe we realized or cared about who was supposed to go with who. It was like playing a silly game of spin-the-bottle. It was a bit sinister, but I am glad that nothing more terrible happened. It was awkward and sloppy, so I believe we both got a tentative kiss. I only remember a glancing wetness coming from the blonde, more petty boy and the desire to get him outside. They eventually left.

Later, Susie and my babysitter in Oakland hills were Susie. Two boys from a nearby private high school were interested in coming by. One of the boys liked Susie. Mike was his friend. Mike was a sandy blonde with tawny hair and deep brown eyes. He was a guitarist. Sarah and the boy she liked vanished behind a closed door.

It is possible that the children we were supposed to be caring for were asleep. Mike and I were sitting awkwardly in our living room. Mike and I were sitting on the couch separated by a cushion. Behind him, a long, bright aquarium gurgled softly.

Although I can't recall if we spoke, I believe we did. Mike was older and more confident than his younger counterparts. He was also kind, but most importantly, he was handsome and older. I wasn't surprised that he loved me. We began to get closer and it seemed that a kiss was in the near future. Although I don't recall much of the preamble, I do remember that we were trying to kiss each other when he stopped. Gently.

He pulled back and did what was there and it still amazes me to this day. He started to talk openly about the mechanics of our kiss. He started actively teaching me how he kissed. This was a very important lesson that he decided to share with me. He didn't worry about whether it would harm me, embarrass or cause any other problems.

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I don't know what I did to get him to do that. It makes me smile to think about it. Did I open my mouth like a fish's? Forcibly putting my tongue down his throat. I can't recall.

All I remember is that he gently but firmly began coaching me. He offered suggestions. We would try again. "Okay, a little tongue." We'd try again. Do not be afraid to explore."

When I did it right, he encouraged me. He didn't mock me. He didn't push me along. He didn't pretend to want to be my boyfriend. He didn't even take advantage of the chance (which he probably did) to travel further. He saw that I was young and inexperienced and didn't use it to his advantage.

He instead made fun of me by inviting me to join him as an acolyte.

Mike is 48 years old, and it's still one of my most treasured erotic memories. He did something very unusual. Since then, I have only had one love... Honest? Scientific? Direct? Communicative? View of sex. He understood eroticism as it was and was open to the idea of dissecting it in order to understand it better. It was thrilling. It's thrilling.