His name was Jim Stewart. It was seventh grade at the North Country School in Lake Placid, New York. He played the guitar. There had been kisses earlier in elementary school but only because it was Spin the Bottle and that doesn’t really count.

The kiss that mattered. I was 17, he was too. It was all teeth and stiff tongue. He was leaning against a door that he thought was closed and fell into the next room… (smile)

In the first grade, I tackled Tommy Boyd in the coat rack and kissed him. I had to go stand in the hall. In the fourth grade, Gary Grow kissed me under “The Big Tree”…a huge oak on the far side of the field behind my house. His lips were really soft. He gave me a necklace, but when I found out he was kissing Cindy Adams, I left the necklace on the handle bars of his bike, and never talked to him again.

I was sixteen…so was he. The date was over, we were standing on my front porch. “The Moment” arrived…just as our lips touched, the porch light came on and my Father opened the door and released my over protective german shepherd. My date ran back to his car, jumped in, and took off. My Father just stood there…the biggest smile on his face…it was his favorite story to tell for years afterward…remembering it now, I’m smiling too.

I remember my husband’s first kiss. The others - no memory and maybe that should have told me something. How can a spin the bottle kiss compare to the love of my life’s kiss after waiting 49 years to find him?

I was 13 and his name was Richard Smith. His family and mine had been close friends for years, and would visit in each others homes about once a month to play dominoes. He showed up once on a neutral night and announced that he had come to see me. My parents were in the living room playing dominoes with family members. I quickly brushed my hair and met him in the kitchen/den to see what he wanted. We talked about nothing for a while and he suddenly walked closer and kissed me twice! It was the sweetest and most gentle kiss. We were never more than childhood friends. I heard he passed away a few years back. The *real* kiss that changed my life was later. I still love him and will until my last breath. We were married for 9 years.

Hadn’t remembered in years; kissed a boy in reading circle in 1st grade (don’t remember why or who) and got sent to the principal’s office, One I still remember when I was 20 or so working temp at a pbx (remember those?) and someone mentioned it was my birthday also to a quiet young man who shared the day. He bent over and kissed me sweetly, softly and exciting. He left for his appointment, never knew his name but I recall that kiss easily and with a smile.

Love that poem…especially the rubberband on the braces…that can lip-whammy pretty hard and could give the wrong messsage to a young guy…I remember my first kiss…I think his name was michael…I was thirteen and at a birthday party…he was fifteen. We played spin the bottle and he won me…so I thought, okay, he’s just gonna peck me on the lips like the other guys did to my friends…but noooo…not this mike…he took me into the den, or was it the bedroom…I can’t remember, and he started to kiss me and he opened his mouth and stuck his tougue in my mouth. I hated it…the texture, the taste, and the amount of saliva he happened to generate… and I vowed never to kiss anyone ever again in my life.

Frank - what a romantic you are!

My very first ‘kiss’ was somewhere between 4 and 5. After my father was killed, my mother went to work full time and sent me to a Montessori boarding school where I was always getting into trouble. I can’t remember the boy’s name, but I do remember what he looked like — light blondish/red hair in kind of a bowl cut with lots of freckles. I can still see his face. He and I would go behind one of the garages and kiss. I really don’t remember that much about it except that we were quite pleased with ourselves. My first “grown up” kiss (if you will) came when I was 16. His name was Troy. I liked him because he was 6’6” to my 5’8”. Bonnie, my best friend, would sit on the grass with me at lunch time to eat outside the building from which I knew Troy would step after his last morning class. He invited me out that summer. When he took me home, he reached over, pulled me in and bent down to kiss me. I ducked! Go figure! :):):):)