There can only be ONE first kiss…
This is a charming story. Who can read it without remembering their own first lip-lock? Makes me regret you can only enter puberty two or three times. Most of my intros to stories like these are frivolous and superficial. How greater to contrast the sweet and authentic well told story, as this surely is. A reminder, today is the Ides of March, and all entries for our contest must arrive by carrier pigeon or cyber-shuttle by mid-night tonight. Some have threatened to bribe me to win this coveted contest; I humor them and generally up the ante, but it’s only lip service. Thanks for this entry Brian. And here is
by B. Howard
It was the summer of 1960 and I was twelve. Visiting my grandparents in rural Seattle meant a three hour road trip from Gig Harbor in our 1957 root beer Buick Special. My mom drove while my two little brothers and I tested her nerves rough-housing in the back seat. By the time we arrived, we boys couldn’t wait to escape into the country woods and open fields, while I’m sure my mother was happy for the break.
We would run everywhere, hollering at the top of our lungs, finally getting separated and giving me some freedom to explore on my own without my tag-along little brothers. The scattering of old grey outbuildings, barns and sheds sparked my curiosity. I approached an old weathered barn and entered with anxious trepidation. I was immediately consumed with interest, as my city upbringing rarely allowed me such unique explorations. As I wondered through the massive space, she suddenly appeared from around a dark corner. She had her sights right on me. She slowly walked towards me and reached for my hand, leading me up a ladder where bales of hay were stacked.
The sweet smell of hay filled my lungs and thin rays of sun bounced off her skin like strands of golden tinsel. She abruptly spun around and kissed me on the lips. She took me by complete surprise, as I had never experienced the desires that would soon be unleashed. Her kiss was soft and sweet, escalating in strength and intensity. I had no experience in the art of kissing, but instinctively followed her lead, similar to how a bird just knows how to fly. As my young female stalker continued to smother me with her lips, I felt a warm and passionate glow erupt within me. I had been kindled by an internal electrical current that consumed me. We kissed until our bodies became a vibrating furnace. I wonderfully lost myself in time. As quickly as she appeared, she said she must go and climbed down the hay loft, running off. I stood in a motionless daze, unable to comprehend what had just happened. My fleeting moment of manhood was abruptly shattered when my little brothers came barreling in with yelps and yells of excitement.
I never knew her name nor saw her again, but my surprise encounter will remain forever. I can still see her long caramel hair, against golden skin, with freckles sprinkled across her face like stardust.
Both of us too young to know any better, barely beginning to bud into adolescence.
She was a lovely fire starter.
I will never forget her…