Friday, 21 October 2005

first kiss

My first kiss, courtesy of Cheryl's question ...

Paris, spring 1988.

I was 18 ... don't laugh, I was incredibly shy as a teenager and had only just come out of the 'blushing when a boy speaks to you' stage.

We were on a school history trip, a long weekend in Paris.

I'd re-started my Lower Sixth year because I'd had so much time off with illness, and I was determined to try to change my 'shy, good-girl' image.

So I had a bit too much to drink and flirted disgracefully with the guys on the trip.

On the last evening, we all got a bit silly and there was some swapping and changing between the boys room and the girls room, and chatting and giggling. I went out in the corridor with one chap, in my pajamas, still chatting and giggling. He was one of the guys that everyone fancied at school.

Eventually we kissed, a long, lip-tingling, nerve-end vibrating few moments that I can still dredge up from memory now. And then our less tipsy and more sensible friends came out and herded us back in to our appropriate rooms, and that was that.

It was very romantic, a fantastic first kiss and it had the added benefit of changing my 'image' at school for ever, which matters dreadfully when you are eighteen and paralytically shy.

His name? Not telling, but there he is, on the far left, in the Tuilerie Gardens.

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