Stories From A Life

Been there. Done that. Writing about it.

Sally Swift

Sally Swift
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA
June 14
VP, Repartee
Swift Retorts
sally: a journey, a venture, an expression of feeling, an outburst, a quip, a wisecrack ... me


FEBRUARY 15, 2013 1:40AM

My Mind-Boggling First Kiss

Rate: 17 Flag


Love is in the air this week. The glow of new or renewed romance will last at least a few more days, maybe longer. Perfect timing to tell you about my very First Kiss. 

My ground rules for a real first kiss are simple. It should be a doozy, and ideally leave you woozy.

Not a quick peck at recess in third grade by bold Billy on a dare. Not the lips-closed fumbling effort of a clueless, neo-adolescent at a party.

They don't count and you know it.

Here's what counts: 

Treat Williams, not Fred, author of my first real kiss, but the 
resemblance is striking so this is how I remember him.

His name is Fred, called Freddie back then, literally the boy next door. Well, one of them. The oldest and hunkiest of three brothers. Football player, top of his class, strong, self-confident, thick dark hair, almost one eyebrow in that sexy Treat Williams way. Every girl wanted him. 

The middle brother, the one my age, had a crush on me. I couldn't see him for my overwhelming crush on Freddie, who never seemed to see me at all.

One summer day, as usual there was a gang of neighborhood kids in our rec room (wow, what a dated phrase!) I have no clue what Freddie was doing there, he was 17, no 18. I was barely 14, my friends and I were babies to a high school star, stud, Harvard bound. 

He was always on my teen radar, even though I knew I was decidedly not on his. Then, that day, I saw him looking at me in a way I instinctively realized was "interest." My heart started to pound. I know now it was mostly fear.

But at the time, OMG, Freddie was staring at me. Intently. I didn't see him move but suddenly he was beside me. He said, "What's this door?" In a daze I told him the cedar closet. He took my hand, led me inside, closed us in. It was a room-sized closet but we stood near the door, close, not touching, eyes trying to adjust in the almost total darkness.

I could feel his presence on my exposed skin, hear his breathing. The hair on the nape of my neck moved, sent a frisson of pleasure down my spine. His scent washed over me, light sweat, not unpleasant, English Leather, something else. I know now probably musk. Definitely male.

My senses were humming. My mind was racing... what now, should I turn on the light, should I say something, maybe this was a mistake, when, how... and then he kissed me.

I'd thought they made this up in books, but as his lips closed over mine, soft and hard at the same time, urging them open, his tongue gentle and then firm in my mouth, I nearly swooned.

Oh, the sweet contradictions of a real, grown up kiss. The heat of his hands, one against my waist, the other on the back of my head as he pressed me closer. Our bodies tensed, touched, from kiss to knees ... and I actually felt the room begin to spin.

He slowly pulled away, dropped his hands. I staggered a little, he steadied me. Lifted one hand to lightly touch my cheek. Stepped back. The air between us was still vibrating, but what had been so heated suddenly felt cold.

"No. No," I barely heard his whisper. We stayed still for a minute, not speaking. He opened the door and left.


I was devastated. The boy of my dreams had finally, finally kissed me, but found me wanting, rejected me.

Oh, the difference between 14 and 18. He'd not rejected me, but my inexperience and youth. He'd pulled himself back from making a big mistake. For both of us.

It was years til I understood --and appreciated-- that chivalrous, kind gesture. No matter, it was almost the perfect first kiss, sweet, dreamlike, a hint, a taste of a future of genuine passion.

Why was the kiss almost perfect? In my dizzy, hazy excitement, I didn't kiss him back. Because I didn't know how.

I've come to realize that was a good thing. Karma. He might not have been able to remain such a gentleman and I'd have started that part of my life far too soon. At least I learned what a really spectacular kiss should be. And I'm very, very good at it now.

I'd forgotten this story, and the kiss, as my own life picked up steam and we all moved on. One day a few years ago my younger sister, teasing me and giving away that she'd read my diary way back when, quoted all I could manage to say on the subject: "Freddie Newman at last!"

My mother and his mother remain lifelong friends, lived near each other in Florida, got together often. Mom spent time with Fred and his wife when he visited his mother.

I wonder if... no, he wouldn't remember. But my renewed memory is perfect, just as it happened, more than forty years ago.





Your tags:


Enter the amount, and click "Tip" to submit!
Recipient's email address:
Personal message (optional):

Your email address:


Type your comment below:
A kiss is just a kiss. As time goes by. Nope, the first is always the best.
Well, that was a treat!
There really is no getting past, or matching, those early days of innocence and discovery.
Finally Freddie Newman!!! Love this story. Love first kisses, the whole shabang. Those adolescent feelings are so acute, it's a shame we can't go back and experience them now with our, you know, experience. R!
The first kiss, the first love, the whole shebang. xox
Oh God.. I had a kiss like that at 46.... I still remember it.. thank god he still talks to me..Loved this-felt this-enjoyed this.
I sure do. He was my babysitter! My mom thought I needed a babysitter in 8th grade and she left me with HIM. My neck is flushing just thinking about what happened after I told him YES, I did wear bras, then he looked in my underwear drawer and saw the stack of undershirts...hahah. Thanks, Sally, this was fun.
I so admire the way you write. You certainly have a good memory.
Thanks for this post.
oh, yes yes yes. those days of knees buckling and spinning rooms because of a kiss. we are so hard-wired to love kissing, aren't we? mmmmm. i love that his name was freddie, i think. lovely, sweet, fabulous post, sally. xoxo
I hope his breath was better than Clark Gable's. Wonderful story, Sally.
I can't say the 1st is the best ~ You don't know what you're doing when it's your first time ever, and there is either the sandpapery lip press or the sloppy spit exchange and your eyes pop open as a tongue starts fiercely pushing around looking for a gap in your teeth. You can only go up from there. Time, love, and tenderness as Bolton says.

I will say the first kiss from a new guy can be the best... full of promise, weak knees, and the hint of something good to come. I've had only one that left my legs buckly and staring after him as he walked out the door... wonder if *that* will ever happen again. I'll let you know if it does!
Thanks, Bill! Do you remember yours or is this mostly a girl thing?

jl, innocence and discovery, the perfect description.

Jaime, I've often wished I could go back for a few do-overs knowing what I know now.

Joanie, in retrospect that first kiss, first crush was a harbinger of The One.

Linda, you were never kissed until 46??? heh

Emily, great story. I don't even remember undershirts, by 7th grade I was already a 34C, at age 14 a D. Hmm, maybe that's why I got noticed..

Lyle, thank you and welcome to the sandbox.

Candy, did you have a Freddie too? I don't know about everybody else, but kissing is one of my favorite activities.
Bea, did Clark Gable have bad breath? Oh no!

Gabby, the first kiss I described didn't match -or feel- anything like the ones you found so distasteful. Glad you found some good ones.
Juicy, Sally! My first was with Buttons (cute as a button) Corliss. But I prefer to remember my most recent.
you had me bated with all the fun of my first romance novel and plated with swift class.
Sally, big improvement from the first time -->clueless 14 year-olds quickly experimenting with kisses behind the door - and those that came after a little practice. All I had to go on at 14 was what I'd seen at the movies. Pretty chaste and definitely no tongue involved! Innocent and funny, looking back.
PS - certainly not distasteful! where did I say that?
my 1st kiss was a cougar. no wonder Im so messed up. she didnt tell me how to kiss, not knowing I was a total virgin, or perhaps forgetting that I told her. & then finally when I realized she liked some tongue, she said "youve been kissing so much better today", when all I was doing was slipping my tongue in her mouth. hey, thats 80% of good kissing right there right? =)
Ah, heavenly. So utterly romantic for a first kiss. Who knew, a cedar closet....
And you assume he's forgotten.

I don't know why.
Fantastic. I bet he remembers. I hope he and his wife still get it on. He does sound like a fine man. My first kiss was in the back of an old Chevy and we clinked teeth. Not good.
i remember mine. maybe tomorrow or soon i will blog about it.

nice story, sally. and what a decent young man.