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The Best First Kiss I’ve Ever Had

A life-changing moment that deserved to be preserved

When I went to lie down on the outer edge of the bed, he smiled and wagged his finger at me. He wouldn’t have it; he needed to protect me from “potential intruders.” After a bit of playful quarreling over the highly-unlikely-but-delusionally-real possibility of that scenario, I realized he was sweetly serious. I giggled, shook my head in surrender, and scooted to the inside.

My chivalrous knight in shining armor climbed in behind me to defend me from any imaginable threat. He snuggled up against me, enveloped me in his embrace, and wrapped both his hands around mine. He wanted to make sure that every inch of me was protected and loved, right down to my delicate fingers.

It was the first time we’d ever touched each other, but the moment he held me, it felt like we had always belonged that way.

I smiled at how perfectly we fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle. Every single contour of his body fit flawlessly around every single curve of mine.

My heart began skipping even more beats than it already did around him. Feeling him against me and all around me… it made me feel complete.

Lying that way felt like the greatest truth I’d ever known. We were coworkers—finally living out our feelings for each other after falling in love for a month. Quietly breathing, excitedly beating.

Both of us were in an ecstatic calm; indescribably happy to finally be as close in body as we had felt in spirit all along. Savoring every sensation of each other’s skin and scent. And although we were sad that the night was over, we were happy the next day would start by waking up in each other’s embrace.

We never said any of that; we just knew it.

We quietly spoke a few mundane sentences — about our day, about each other. I loved hearing his voice so hushed like that. I found it even more soothing than his regular voice, and I felt special knowing it was an intimate tone reserved only for me.

We laughed quietly about a few silly things, though I can’t remember what. I just know that every word we spoke, we said through smiles.

Eventually, he turned off the light and we closed our eyes… but somehow it felt like that’s when we started to see each other even more clearly. Maybe that’s why they say love is blind.

He held me tightly but tenderly at the same time. He softly and slowly stroked my hair, from my temple to the very ends, starting with a light touch from the tips of his fingers, and gradually weaving my tresses throughout every joint. It was as if he thought I could be bruised by anything heavier than a careful and gentle caress.

Perhaps it was partly due to a feeling of cautious apprehension. Maybe he felt an undertow waiting for him beneath my shiny waves.

Regardless, I was absolutely amazed by this display of affection; genuinely shocked by the level at which he cared. I meant that much to him? Me?

Really?

I had never expected such adoration or tenderness — from anyone. I’ve never experienced that level of awe from any man before, or since.

He was studying each strand with his sense of touch, making sure every single lock landed safely on my shoulders. It was like he couldn’t believe such a beautiful creature was actually real, and that she was interested in him, and that he got to hold her.

I couldn’t believe that I was such a beautiful and intriguing creature to him, or to anyone. I didn’t realize it was possible to be loved and appreciated so deeply. I couldn’t believe I was so lucky to have his heart. It was like he knew how delicate I feel on the inside, and he wanted to use his touch to appreciate that, and to show me that I no longer had to live in fear of someone or something breaking me.

Without a single word, he was saying he wanted to be there to protect and comfort me from then on — and I knew he didn’t want there to be an end in sight. I felt it.

That moment was one of my favorites with him: That’s when I knew he was falling in love with me, too.

The whole emotion was something we’d been dancing around for weeks, and that was when we both realized that we weren’t crazy; we hadn’t imagined one another’s interest.

I realized without a doubt that I wasn’t just his female friend sleeping over for the night, and neither was I simply an attractive young woman lying in his bed. I was someone he truly cherished, from his soul to mine. And I was elated, because I cherished him, too.

Even though it was dark, and I had my eyes closed, I knew we were both smiling uncontrollably.

I could feel his body tucked snugly behind mine in a position of protection, and his arms wrapped around me in soft passion, but he still seemed too far away… I missed him.

I spun around to tell him that without words. I couldn’t resist any longer; I had to know how his lips felt when they touched mine.

It was still dark, and I was afraid that if I reached out to hold him, I would end up accidentally punching him, because that seems like something I would do. That’s why I made sure to start by resting my hand somewhere safe that wouldn’t hurt him very much if my touch was too strong. And that’s why I moved it so carefully.

After spinning around to face him, I cautiously reached over and placed my left hand on his right forearm, then began to slowly glide it up across the other softly chiseled contours of his athletic body. I drifted along the outline from his muscular tattooed bicep, to his powerful shoulders, to his sweetly vulnerable neck, to his pronounced jaw… studying each facet of his masculinity as I went.

He was the perfect proportion of strong but not threatening; protective but not intimidating. His form seduced me even when I couldn’t see it. That’s why my hand took so long to reach its destination; it wanted to linger.

This turn of events had pleasantly surprised him, and he responded in touch. He adjusted his hold on me to make his grasp a more intimate one. He lowered his right arm from what had been a demurely comforting position just moments prior, and placed his hand on the curve of the transition between my waist and lower back. Again, he’d instinctively found the spot where it felt like his touch had always belonged.

He pulled me closer toward himself, so that every inch of us was pressed up against each other. He unfurled his fingers without moving his hand away from my body, and began caressing that part of me, slowly and gently gripping my shirt into and out of a fold between his fingers — silently anxious for whatever move I would make next.

This was quickly becoming the most fun game of Chess that I had ever played — one reason being that it wasn’t actually Chess, another being that I was actually ahead, and finally that it felt as if neither of us had ever played before. Like we were learning it all with each other, for the first time. It was so amorous, yet so innocent.

I tried to feel how fast his heart was beating — hoping that it was growing more and more rapid, just like mine. I can’t recall if I did so by touching his chest with my hand, or if I drew myself even closer to that part of him. I only remember being thrilled to discover his excited rhythm; to know that he was just as anxious as I was.

And somehow, the slower we moved, the faster our hearts raced. We were on a rollercoaster, and starting to climb.

My hand finally reached his face, and I gently caressed it. I simply wanted to study and admire him, and I made sure to touch him very softly and slowly, to show him how precious he was to me. I knew that someone so strong probably felt very weak at times, and I needed him to know that he didn’t ever have to feel that way around me — but that it was okay if he did.

In fact, I considered his weakness one of his greatest strengths. His vulnerability made him even more attractive in my eyes.

I was trying to express that I would protect him in his weak moments, and I would love him anyway. If anything, I would admire him even more.

I stroked his cheek and that soft part of his face right next to his eye — the eyes that kept sparkling at me even in the dark. I moved down to his chin and felt the stubble of his whiskers, then caressed the soft lips that reveal that sexy, beaming smile.

In that moment, though, his smile was relaxed. His lips were parted in gentle suspense. And I loved that I knew exactly the expression on his face, even though the room was almost pitch black. It was a look of excitement that was calm, anxiety that was affectionate, and fear that was trusting.

I was looking into a mirror.

I brought my face very close to his, and dreaded the possibility that our first kiss would just be me landing on some weird part of him, since I still couldn’t see. It took me awhile to orient myself with where I was, compared to where he was.

I quietly giggled about the whole situation — trying to maneuver my head into just the right position while in the midst of darkness, yet trying to act like I knew exactly what I was doing. I wasn’t very graceful, but he was very patient.

I tried to get my bearings by slowly moving my fingers up under the side of his chin… and around to his cheek… and then to his smile… rubbing his lips lightly, and letting my thumb rest there, just to the left. I needed it as some kind of marker to make sure I was on the right course.

I nuzzled him with my nose, and then gently grazed my lips over his cheek in a soft and playful smile. Then my smile came so close to his that I don’t know how we weren’t touching.

I whispered in a chuckle of embarrassed frustration that I couldn’t seem to find his lips no matter how hard I tried. I felt his gentle smile burst into a big one for a moment, as he giggled in suppressed desire. I could also feel his breath — soft and warm, and held in anticipation.

He returned his lips to a slightly more open state of longing, and inched his head towards mine.

We were beyond ready to seal our affections for one another, and were slightly more excited than nervous. I remember thinking to just aim for me, and that I would find him.

And then… I remember finding him.

And the instant my lips touched his…

My. Life. Changed.

That was it. That was everything I’d been missing in my life, everything I’d been looking for for years, without even realizing what I had been looking for, or that I’d been looking for it at all — but he had it. It was right there — in his lips, in his heart, in his body, in his soul… In him.

It was everything about him — strengths and weaknesses, perfections and flaws, quirks and character traits, physical and intellectual… It was just him. It was all of him.

That first moment of uniting with him was one of the happiest of my entire life. An unparalleled feeling of absolute bliss. An explosion of light and patterns and energy that filled my heart and made me glow from deep inside my soul.

Our lips met so gradually and delicately that our first kiss was silent, but the feeling he gave me inside was anything but quiet or faint. It was the most beautiful deafening roar; the climax of a shy crescendo we’d been building together every day for weeks. It felt like the whole world was a song and that everything around us was dancing.

The butterflies he’d been piling up in my stomach all began fluttering with full force. My heart suddenly went from the anxious and trepidatious buildup it felt while creeping all the way up the steep incline of our rollercoaster, to being full of euphoric adrenaline from finally reaching the pinnacle and starting to rush.

That height with him felt higher than I’d ever imagined I could reach, and the beauty of the view from the top was unparalleled.

It felt like I could burst with joy from the inside out. I was overcome with feelings of love and excitement that you can’t even describe because there are no words that do it justice — at least not in my language.

You know how the guitar solo and instrumental break play out for the last minute and a half of Jimi Hendrix’s “Bold as Love”? (Skip to 02:47 so you know what I’m talking about. And for god’s sake, wear your high quality headphones — set to stereo.)

If kissing him had a soundtrack, that was it.

Pure. Ecstasy. Perfect love and adoration. Innocence, bliss, wonder, awe, excitement, intensity, color, soul, movement, dizziness, stillness, peace, joy — and above all, passion. Endless, tender passion.

Falling for him didn’t feel like falling; it felt like soaring. The heart-racing feeling of flying through a rainbow of color and energy and light — being so overcome by the beauty that you can’t believe your eyes, struggling to take it all in.

So simple, yet so many layers of complexity, all of them different patterns and hues. The bass and the drums beating fast — in perfect tempo with my racing heart, both of them almost unable to keep up with the thrill of being in his arms.

That’s how it felt to kiss him.

And not just for that first time.

Every. Single. Time.

Other guys have expressed so many different things to me through their kisses.

It’s ranged from the indifferent, “I like you but I’m not crazy about you, and I just felt like I should kiss you because that’s what you do on dates,” — to the selfish, “I have no idea who you are or what you like, but this is what I like and this is how we’re gonna do it,” — to the transparent, “I think you’re hot and I’m just trying to sleep with you,” — to the all-too-rare, “I find you attractive for more than your looks, and I genuinely enjoy your company.”

But that was them. He said something very different; something that no one had told me in years, and that I’d only ever heard from one other person before.

His lips weren’t saying, “I want you.”

They were saying, “I adore you.”

He said it slowly and then swiftly. He said it aggressively in a shout and then softly in a whisper. He said it leaning into me and then pulling me back toward him. He said it with his fingers running through my hair. He said it with his hand lightly stroking my face in wonder and adoration.

He pulled me up on top of him because he wanted to hear me say it, too. He started saying it, then stopped and tried to take it back in a tease and an open half-smile, forcing me to find the silence so tantalizingly uncomfortable that I finished his sentence for him.

He said it with his arms wrapped around my waist. He said it gripping me tightly and then caressing me softly. He said it to my top lip and then to my bottom lip. He said it to both at once. He said it in every language possible, forwards and backwards, repeatedly. His heartbeat even said it in Morse Code.

At some points, he said it with his tongue, but very timidly and conservatively — just the way I like it. He even bit my lip, playfully but gently, and then he smiled. I know because I felt it. And oh my god his smile was even sexy in the dark with my eyes closed.

He gently swirled me back down below him and said it on top of me. He said it with both hands emphatically grasping that part between my ears and the nape of my neck. He wanted to make sure that I heard him, and that I knew how much he meant it.

He never wanted to let me go. I never wanted him to, either.

Our descent from the top of that rollercoaster was slow and gentle, but it felt like we were racing at the speed of light. It seemed like there were no disruptive ups, only more thrilling downs — and loops, and corkscrews, and zig-zags. We were struggling to catch our breath.

Our hands kept searching for something more stable to grab onto, anything to stop that feeling of falling… Yet the feeling of falling is what we couldn’t get enough of.

It was like there weren’t enough places on our bodies for us to caress, to show each other how much we adored one another — slowly and softly, then powerfully and passionately, and then back around again. We never wanted that moment to end.

And no matter how close we were to one another, we didn’t feel close enough. So we just kept gripping each other tighter and tighter to hold on, because that’s what you do when you’re on a thrill ride.

The moment was so intense, and so passionate, yet so tender. And it felt like it would all last forever, in a way that neither of us would ever tire from.

Our time-bending rock-and-roll rainbow rollercoaster ride of physical affection was perfect, absolutely perfect—except for the secret lingering in his lips. 🍌