The Kissing King?
I love a good guy story. Back in my single days, I used to do some wild and crazy things. I will be the first to admit that with women, I could be a total ass. I assure you this was not because I thought I was god’s gift to women, but because most of my time if I was hooking up with a girl...I was totally hammered. In my 5 years of college (too short), I did a lot of damage...especially considering that the majority of my time was spent locked down with a steady girlfriend. Some of my close friends still don’t believe my stories, but in my new monthly addition to SixTalkingHeads, I plan to open up the storybook of my sexual adventures. We will start with my first kissing experience with the opposite sex and work our way up to the final glory days...being single in college. I promise to tell the whole truth and nothing less. If you stick with me, you will realize that my stories are so pathetic that I couldn’t dream of making them up. Some of these stories can get a little "detailed," so if you are easily offended….PLEASE DON'T READ THEM! Don’t complain - I won’t edit them. Now let’s begin my trip down memory lane, starting with the year of sixth grade.
The Kissing King?
The Kissing King?
Back in the 6th grade, the cool thing to do was called the French Kiss. I grew up in a middle class area where the cool kids seemed to grow up a little faster than the rest of us. That’s not to say that the cool kids were knockin’ boots by age 11, but I’m sure some of the girls who ended up pregnant in high school fooled around a little more than the rest of us early on.
The French Kiss became wildly popular because the cool kids decided to have a party where spin the bottle was the game of choice. Unfortunately I wasn’t one of these so called “cool kids,” so I didn’t make the initial cut. I remember the Monday after the first kissing party like it was yesterday. The rumors were flying around the hallways. Did you hear that Matt kissed Jen three times…with tongue! Whoa, this was big! There was even a rumor circulating that one lucky couple had to make out in the closet because the bottle landed on them five times! The word was that a breast may have been touched. I still don’t know to this day, because French Kissing alone was beyond anything I had ever experienced.
A few weeks after the big bash, my neighbor (one of three triplet girls!) decided to throw a Halloween party. Since I was fortunate enough to be their neighbor, I ended up making the coveted guest list. Considering my neighbors' parents were a little more relaxed than mine, I thought there was a chance I could get some action. As I indicated earlier, “action” in the sixth grade was defined as French Kissing. Parties back then consisted of a few people sitting around, drinking soda, and eating junk food while watching Bryan Adams on MTV. My parents were anti-cable at the time, so this definition of a party was good enough for me.
About halfway through the night, one of my classmates from middle school (we will call her Jen) showed up at the party. Jen had been fortunate enough to be invited to the cool kids party the month before, and she already had a reputation for being a kissing slut. For the inexperienced young male that I was, Jen was a goddess. Unfortunately, that definition didn't exactly make Jen a supermodel. Back in the sixth grade, Jen weighed around 110 and had a chest a stripper would die for. That’s probably because 110 back then equated to a cool 200 in high school. I honestly could care less because at the time, I wasn’t even concerned about tackling 2nd base. One base at a time was good enough.
As the night progressed, I realized Jen was into me. I remember her sitting on my lap that night (god she was heavy - keep in mind at the time I probably weighed about 80 pounds sopping wet). Knowing Jen’s reputation from the previous party, I figured I was in. Then, it was time for me to make my move to cool kid paradise. If I could just land this babe for the night, I would be set for the rest of my middle/high school years. My older 8th grade neighbor told me you had to establish yourself early in middle school or good luck trying to make a name for yourself. Considering I wasn’t a jock and I wasn't extremely gifted, I really didn’t have much of a fighting chance. Fortunately, God was nice enough to put this pig right in my lap - I knew needed to take advantage of it.
As Jen and I continued to talk and get closer, I figured I would ask her “out.” Back then “going out” meant you were boyfriend and girlfriend. Believe it or not, Jen actually said yes and I knew I hit the jackpot! We continued to watch MTV and as the party began to fade I knew I had to make my move to seal my name in the middle school hall of fame. A few minutes later, Jen leaned over and told me she had to go. Since nobody was around I went in for my first kiss. Considering I had never kissed a girl before, the French kiss may have been a little too much for me to master. I remember going in for the kiss, locking lips, and letting my tongue fly. The kiss felt like it lasted for 10 years, but in reality it was probably 2.3 seconds. This was just enough time for me to seal the deal and lose my first base virginity. After our kiss ended, Jen said goodbye and left the party. On my way home to my house I remember explaining the story to my best friend - he thought I was a God. I had done it! I was the first person in my group of friends to kiss a girl, and the best thing about it was that I got some tongue action!
That night was probably the best night of my young life. I went to bed dreaming of my first real girlfriend. What would be next, 2nd base? 3rd? The possibilities were endless. Since the party was on a Friday, Saturday and Sunday were possibly the longest days of my life. All I could think of was getting back to school so I could finally claim my newfound fame. Since the party was the big bash of the weekend, I knew I would clearly make the top story. As I arrived to school Monday morning, the halls were a little more silent than I imagined. I don’t know if I expected a banner or a plaque with my name on the wall, but when I arrived Monday morning nothing had changed. "Don't panic," I told myself. The story hadn’t made it around school yet - I just needed to give it a little time.
By lunch-time my ears were still wide open, but nothing had circulated. I guess since I didn’t have a chance to see my newfound love until the end of the day, I assumed nobody knew we were an item yet. Then, it happened. I remember it like it was yesterday. Out of nowhere one of my triplet neighbors came up to me and said, "Jen is breaking up with you." Less than 72 hours after the day of my life, my world came crashing down. I had reached the upper limits of popularity one night and was sitting back in loserville the next.
The rumor around school at the time was that my kissing wasn’t quite up to par. I heard that Matt, the dude she made out with the month before, was a little better at tonsil hockey than I was. Odds are my lack of kissing knowledge sent her running back to the guy who pleasured her the month before. The rise and fall of my popularity was extremely short lived; in 72 short hours I went from thinking I was going to be the next “it” kid, to once again being a normal kid in the middle of the pack. Luckily the details about my lack of kissing skills didn’t make it all the way around school that week. I’m sure another cool party happened the weekend after and there was something else that put my story to shame. At least I had my weekend of fame - too bad nobody really knew about it.
The French Kiss became wildly popular because the cool kids decided to have a party where spin the bottle was the game of choice. Unfortunately I wasn’t one of these so called “cool kids,” so I didn’t make the initial cut. I remember the Monday after the first kissing party like it was yesterday. The rumors were flying around the hallways. Did you hear that Matt kissed Jen three times…with tongue! Whoa, this was big! There was even a rumor circulating that one lucky couple had to make out in the closet because the bottle landed on them five times! The word was that a breast may have been touched. I still don’t know to this day, because French Kissing alone was beyond anything I had ever experienced.
A few weeks after the big bash, my neighbor (one of three triplet girls!) decided to throw a Halloween party. Since I was fortunate enough to be their neighbor, I ended up making the coveted guest list. Considering my neighbors' parents were a little more relaxed than mine, I thought there was a chance I could get some action. As I indicated earlier, “action” in the sixth grade was defined as French Kissing. Parties back then consisted of a few people sitting around, drinking soda, and eating junk food while watching Bryan Adams on MTV. My parents were anti-cable at the time, so this definition of a party was good enough for me.
About halfway through the night, one of my classmates from middle school (we will call her Jen) showed up at the party. Jen had been fortunate enough to be invited to the cool kids party the month before, and she already had a reputation for being a kissing slut. For the inexperienced young male that I was, Jen was a goddess. Unfortunately, that definition didn't exactly make Jen a supermodel. Back in the sixth grade, Jen weighed around 110 and had a chest a stripper would die for. That’s probably because 110 back then equated to a cool 200 in high school. I honestly could care less because at the time, I wasn’t even concerned about tackling 2nd base. One base at a time was good enough.
As the night progressed, I realized Jen was into me. I remember her sitting on my lap that night (god she was heavy - keep in mind at the time I probably weighed about 80 pounds sopping wet). Knowing Jen’s reputation from the previous party, I figured I was in. Then, it was time for me to make my move to cool kid paradise. If I could just land this babe for the night, I would be set for the rest of my middle/high school years. My older 8th grade neighbor told me you had to establish yourself early in middle school or good luck trying to make a name for yourself. Considering I wasn’t a jock and I wasn't extremely gifted, I really didn’t have much of a fighting chance. Fortunately, God was nice enough to put this pig right in my lap - I knew needed to take advantage of it.
As Jen and I continued to talk and get closer, I figured I would ask her “out.” Back then “going out” meant you were boyfriend and girlfriend. Believe it or not, Jen actually said yes and I knew I hit the jackpot! We continued to watch MTV and as the party began to fade I knew I had to make my move to seal my name in the middle school hall of fame. A few minutes later, Jen leaned over and told me she had to go. Since nobody was around I went in for my first kiss. Considering I had never kissed a girl before, the French kiss may have been a little too much for me to master. I remember going in for the kiss, locking lips, and letting my tongue fly. The kiss felt like it lasted for 10 years, but in reality it was probably 2.3 seconds. This was just enough time for me to seal the deal and lose my first base virginity. After our kiss ended, Jen said goodbye and left the party. On my way home to my house I remember explaining the story to my best friend - he thought I was a God. I had done it! I was the first person in my group of friends to kiss a girl, and the best thing about it was that I got some tongue action!
That night was probably the best night of my young life. I went to bed dreaming of my first real girlfriend. What would be next, 2nd base? 3rd? The possibilities were endless. Since the party was on a Friday, Saturday and Sunday were possibly the longest days of my life. All I could think of was getting back to school so I could finally claim my newfound fame. Since the party was the big bash of the weekend, I knew I would clearly make the top story. As I arrived to school Monday morning, the halls were a little more silent than I imagined. I don’t know if I expected a banner or a plaque with my name on the wall, but when I arrived Monday morning nothing had changed. "Don't panic," I told myself. The story hadn’t made it around school yet - I just needed to give it a little time.
By lunch-time my ears were still wide open, but nothing had circulated. I guess since I didn’t have a chance to see my newfound love until the end of the day, I assumed nobody knew we were an item yet. Then, it happened. I remember it like it was yesterday. Out of nowhere one of my triplet neighbors came up to me and said, "Jen is breaking up with you." Less than 72 hours after the day of my life, my world came crashing down. I had reached the upper limits of popularity one night and was sitting back in loserville the next.
The rumor around school at the time was that my kissing wasn’t quite up to par. I heard that Matt, the dude she made out with the month before, was a little better at tonsil hockey than I was. Odds are my lack of kissing knowledge sent her running back to the guy who pleasured her the month before. The rise and fall of my popularity was extremely short lived; in 72 short hours I went from thinking I was going to be the next “it” kid, to once again being a normal kid in the middle of the pack. Luckily the details about my lack of kissing skills didn’t make it all the way around school that week. I’m sure another cool party happened the weekend after and there was something else that put my story to shame. At least I had my weekend of fame - too bad nobody really knew about it.
2 comments:
Ah, the tall tales from the incredulous adolescents of a self-absorbed gambler. First off, you must have been drunk when you wrote this, due to the complete lack of editting and the innumerable grammar errors. Second, we already had a taste of your credibility via your March Maddness run and now you expect us to believe these stories of grandeur? This first one seems believable, but I can't wait till you start painting yourself as the sexual god I'm sure you think you were in college.
You spelled "editing" wrong.
That aside - I can't believe Pikes didn't have a line going or an over/under as to how long that first kiss was going to last. Poor girl probably never saw it coming.
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