First Time

I wasn't gay and nor was she. If anything I blame that one perfect moment. I knew her, probably better than I knew myself. We were just standing together, enjoying the peace that had descended on our night street. It had been a while since we uttered any words. That glorious silence bears a little of the blame too. 

I think it was me who started things first: the way the street light bounced off her skin, bathing her in a soft glow; it was almost as if she was revealing her soul. It drew me towards her. I touched her hand, she stopped gazing at the starry sky to look into my eyes. I was fascinated by her skin, I couldn't tear my eyes away as I caressed her arm. It was silk. And the trail that my fingers left seemed to glow a light crimson. It was only so far I could resist the magnetism of her eyes. I met her gaze. A small part of me feared reprimand and rejection but the second I met her gaze I knew what was on her mind - It was me; it was the moment.

The thing that happened next, I wasn't sure about. I believe it was both of us simultaneously deciding to kiss the other, it made more sense. It also assuaged a little of the residual guilt that I harboured. It was as chaste as the first kiss I ever had. A soft brush of our lips and the hot mingle of our breaths. If ever there was something that felt right, then that was it; her lips on mine tasting of the strawberry that flavoured her red lipstick.

I should have stopped then, withdrawn from the moment and got my head on straight. Instead I took it further. Darting between my lips I let my tongue question her succulent lower lip. She answered. We let the tips of our tongues meet. I had to hold on to her shoulder for support as the electricity rocked through me. My half lidded eyes closed completely. I was lost.

With reckless abandon I intensified the kiss, plunging my tongue into her sweet mouth. The faint taste of butterscotch still lingered on her tongue. We were no longer standing apart but pressed together, her hand at my waist while mine circled around her neck.

I had no idea what was happening to me on the inside. No boy I had kissed ever felt this good. It was beyond good, it was perfect. As if this was meant to be. But it wasn't. The part of me that screamed to me to end this and pretend that it never happened, was listing reasons that were becoming all too hard to ignore.

I pushed away. We both stared at each other surprised, not at the kiss that we shared but at my will to pull away. The moment passed. The glaze that clouded my vision lifted. She was once again my best friend - someone with whom I enjoyed hanging out with, someone who annoyed me with her reckless driving, someone whom I envied her relationship with her mother, someone whom I admired for her courage, someone with whom I shared my most intimate secrets. This would be one more secret. 

She giggled suddenly, a second later I joined her. It all felt a little naughty now that the moment had passed. Almost like the first time we sneaked a picture of a nude guy posing on the beach with his surf board, into my room. We were still the same straight girls. This was just an accident. I had never even looked at another girl like that before.

We said good night to each other and retreated to our homes, her house was the one directly across the road to mine. I stood at my door and looked over at her house, the light from the hallway spill on to her threshold before it went dark again. I looked back at the spot and then at the lamp that witnessed our kiss. It seemed like a dream all of a sudden. But I knew it was real, my lips were still wet from where she french kissed me and if I took of my jacket and tops, I was sure I could see the red marks of her fingers on my hips.

I don't know if we would ever talk about what happened. All I know is that it just did. I'd carry that moment with me always.