My First Kiss

I met him at the pool at my grandparent's condo in Florida.

He did some chit-chatting with Grandma, seemed like a sweet guy. He followed me to the bathroom to ask me if I wanted to go on a date at the pool that night.

Like I said, he seemed nice, but my stranger-danger alerts were pretty high. So I towed my little sister along. She could play in the pool while Doug and I sat in the gazebo close by.  We had worked out a secret signal involving sign language so that if I felt weirded out by him, she would fake a stomach ache, and I would have to leave to take care of her.

He tried to convince me to ditch her and take a stroll down the beach, but I emphasized that my grandparents could look off their balcony to see if I was supervising Corinne.

"So they're watching us?" he asked.

"Well, it's not like they're staked out up there with binoculars, but they might peek down."

We talked for about 5 minutes, and he told me about all the slutty girls at his high school, and how much he didn't like those whores.

Then he leaned over and Frenched me. It occurred to me that I might choke. I kept pulling my head back, but he just moved on forward, continuing to try to force me to swallow his tongue.

Finally, the kiss (aka slimy suffocation) ended. "I like your moves," he told me. "So, what were you hoping for when you came down here tonight?"

"Uhh, I dunno, I just though we'd hang out and talk and stuff."

"Well, let me tell you what I was expecting," he countered, "I was hoping by the end of the night to have your hand in my pants."

Upon seeing my wide-eyed horror, he amended, ".......Or maybe mine in yours!"

"Uhhhhhh...." was all I could sputter out. I was making the secret signal like crazy.

 He kept trying to convince me with his next pick-up line, "Spring break is the time to try things because you don't have to worry about the consequences."

I had never been so happy in my life to hear Corinne's voice whine, "Lauuuureeeen?"

I practically ran over to her, yanked her from the pool, and skedaddled to the elevators.

"Back already?" Grandma inquired.

"Yup, Grams. He's Doug the Dud."

She later confided to me that she had in fact checked up on me several times with a pair of binoculars.