My First Kiss



My first kiss came about as a result of me being pimped out by my older sister Mrs Ryan.

Her friend’s younger brother had seen me about the traps and he found me somewhat alluring. He put in a request to meet me to his older sister, who in turn told my older sister, who in turn told me.

A photo of the prospective suitor was produced and he was as cute as a button, so I agreed to meet him.

I was all of 14. He was 16. He had sandy blonde hair, crinkly smiling eyes and came up to my shoulder. AS A BUTTON!

I was instantly smitten. He had the best name, which obviously I cannot reveal, although I will say that his surname was that of the famous French Sparkling Wine. If we had married (and at the time in my mind this was my destiny) this blog would have a very different title.


The first kiss came about after a few sips of straight Malibu and there was a lot of passion, uncoordinated gnashing of teeth and super tongue sandwiches. It was probably not that different to most people’s first kiss.

But then….

He told his sister about the pashing, she in turn told Mrs Ryan, who gleefully told my mother and spared no details. She probably even made some up.

And then I had to endure the most horrible lecture from my mother about getting bad reputations and birth control.

We broke up a few months later, as I had met another boy whose face I wanted to kiss off, but my first kiss and I were friends for years after.

You always hold a soft spot for your first boyfriend, no?

Who was your first boyfriend?

Tell me about your first kiss?

Linking up with Kerri Sackville’s #myfirst link thingy.