The American Kiss

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One summer when I was an 18 year old teenager living at home back in the early 80s, my parents told me that my sister had arranged for an acquaintance of hers to come live with us for the summer. I was never really clear on the exact reason for this, but apparently the girl was having some issues with her parents. I don’t even think my sister really knew her, I think she volunteered to host her or something.

My sister was four years older than me, so I didn’t think much of it. I worked at a restaurant about half the week and the other half I was either at the beach or partying with friends, so there was little chance I’d be affected by the guest. I also had a smoking hot girlfriend that summer, and she kept me pretty busy.

The only substantial difference for me was that she would be taking my room, so I had to sleep on the couch in the living room, which was no big deal.

The house guest’s name was Marisa, and I think one of her parents was American and the other was from some Latin American country. The first time I met her I noted that she had beautiful long, curly black hair and dark eyes, but her face was kinda average. She seemed really shy and very awkward. Being several years younger, I made the assumption that like all of my sister’s other friends, she would look at me as the dorky little brother.

As it turned out, we both ended up at the house alone a lot, and over time we started doing things together to pass the time. My parents worked, my sister had a summer job, and that left us home together a lot. She liked games, and we started playing a lot of backgammon together. Games have a way of bringing people out, and the more we played, the more she came out of her shell. She had an infectious smile and laugh, and the more I hung out with her the more I realized that she was really very pretty.

She had an exotic look about her, and because it was different than my ethnic background, I guess it had to sink in. The more I hung out with her, the more attractive she became, and she was also very fun to be around. Like I mentioned, I was dating a really hot girl at the time, but she mostly just liked going to the beach. Marisa was kind of a tomboy, cool and fun in ways I had never experienced before with a girl. I was also surprised and thrilled that she would have anything to do with me, being so much younger.

One day Marisa and my sister were going to play racquetball and my sister got sick, so at the last minute I agreed to stand in. I’d never played the game before, so I had no idea how to play. My learning was not assisted by the fact that Marisa wore some very short shorts, and a pretty tight shirt. Instead of focusing on hitting the ball, I was focused on teen-age boy style efforts to steal glances at her body.

She had always dressed modestly before, and seeing her in shorts and a t-shirt was an eye opener. She was toned and trim and naturally tan, and she had a shape that would make your heart stop. She was also really good at racquetball, and had me running around in circles. All the while, I got to enjoy her laughter and bright white smile.

So racquetball became the new game we played. Several times a week, we’d go over to the courts and play. Marisa was the kind of girl you could talk smack to, so we would always talk about who would win. I was beginning to become infatuated with her, but like my sister’s other friends, I assumed there was no interest on her part other than having a playing partner. There was flirting and teasing, but nothing that Maltepe Escort convinced me she was interested.

The court where we played was four walls, no windows, so very private. In between games we would sit our sweaty bodies beside each other with our backs to the wall, chatting about points or shots. Always laughing, smiling. I was starting to get some signals, but a teen-age boy with little sexual experience is not very good at reading signals. There were times when we bumped into each other in mid point. Times when she would stand closer than she needed to. Moments when her hand would brush up against me, during points or even after points. And something about the looks she would give me.

After racquetball, we’d go back home and take showers, and there was something intoxicating about Marisa after racquetball and a shower. She seemed to glow with health and vitality, she never really wore any makeup, and there was something subtle and powerful about the way she smelled. I’m not sure if it was light perfume or soap or shampoo, but her smell was intoxicating and I made all kinds of effort to get close.

Still, I was certain that a beautiful girl four years older than me wasn’t interested in a little kid. That didn’t stop my growing fantasies.

Our backgammon games continued to become more spirited, and one night we played until everyone else in the house had already gone to bed. We were in the middle of a game and something happened that had both of us laughing hysterically, and we both leaned in at the same time and bonked our heads together pretty solid, which only made us laugh harder.

After we had stopped laughing she spoke. “Did you know that cats kiss by bonking their heads together?” she asked, blushing just slightly.

In the years that have passed since that question, I’ve come up with a thousand better answers than the one I gave, but being a naive teenager, I never recognized it as an opening. Instead, I mumbled something about that being a painful way to kiss.

So the rest of that game had an awkward feel to it, the teenage boy wondering if the older girl had made a pass at him, the older girl wondering if the boy had shot her down. Anyway, the game ended and I had to get up early to work, so we went our separate ways, me to the couch and her to my room. I was laying there staring at the ceiling when I heard her come up behind me at the end of the couch where my head was. She was looking down at me in the near dark, upside down and smiling, almost mischievously.

“I just wanted to say good night,” she said smiling. She brought her head down and bonked me on the forehead, giggling all the while.

Feeling and smelling her hair trickling down on my face temporarily overwhelmed my teenage shyness.

“One more time,” I laughed back to her. I could just barely make out her face in the dark.

Once again, she lowered her head down, slower this time, the bonk was lighter and softer, and our foreheads stayed together for a few seconds, making my young heart race out of control.

My head was in such a swim that my response was totally honest. “mmm, that was nice,” I said. I felt calm and nervous at the same time, and my whole body was fluttering. I’m not sure where the thought came from, but I managed to stammer out a pretty good line for a naive teenager. “We should try Eskimo,” I said.

Her response was to look at me cluelessly. “What’s that?” she said.

I hadn’t counted on having to explain, but I my dry mouth Cevizli Escort managed ok. “Nose to nose,” I said.

She smiled and brought her nose down to mine, and our noses touched softly. Because I was laying down and she was behind me, it was an upside down Eskimo kiss, and as she moved her nose back and forth against mine my eyes were lined up with her lips, which had suddenly become irresistibly luscious. By the time she moved back away I was losing consciousness. My mind was blanking and my teenage cock was threatening to turn the light sheet covering me into a circus tent. But amazingly, I was too inexperienced to realize that she was actually coming on to me. I guess at that age, during that time, it would’ve taken a neon sign.

“I think that’s better than head bonking,” I grinned, trying to act like nothing was happening.

Before I knew what was happening, I saw her face coming down out of the darkness, and this time her lips came softly down on mine. I was amazed at how soft her lips were, how good she tasted, how delicious she smelled. The kiss lasted just long enough to still fit the category as friendly, but even I knew we were past that. I felt strangely exhilarated and calmed at the same time, mostly because all of my doubts about her being interested in me were suddenly erased. On top of all that I was also suddenly aware that after all the teasing and fantasizing, I had opened the door to cheating on my girlfriend, so that was in the back of my mind.

“Wow,” I said. “That kinda felt American.”

It was quiet for a brief moment, and then I heard her say “What?”

Now by the way she said “what” I was completely clear that I did not need to repeat what I had said. She had heard it, she was asking what I meant by it, and there was just a hint of an edge to her voice. I realized pretty quickly that what I had said could be taken the wrong way by someone with a foreign background, which was not at all what I meant.

“No…no, I mean as opposed to an Eskimo kiss, it felt like an American kiss,” I stammered out.

“Oh,” I heard her say in the darkness. Then a giggle, and I realized she had understood. I heard and felt her move around the head of the couch, she sat down on the edge of the couch just a bit above my waist. We were quiet like that for a few moments, then she leaned down and kissed me again.

This time I was at least somewhat prepared for it, and I brought one hand to her waist and the other to her face. We sat like that for somewhere between a few seconds and a few hours, I don’t know. It was probably a few minutes, just two friends lightly kissing together in the dark. Me cheating on my girlfriend. Her kissing a guy four years younger. Both of us in my parent’s house, where we would be evicted from if caught.

Maybe one of those thoughts caught up with her, because she suddenly said good night and left me on the couch. On the one hand I felt like someone had removed my spleen, on the other there was some degree of relief. A myriad of emotions ran over me over the next several hours staring at the ceiling, and everytime I heard a noise, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was coming back.

She didn’t come back that night, but a bridge had been crossed between us and now everything was different. I think we both felt like we shouldn’t be doing anything, for many reasons. But while we didn’t do anything, the flirting and the teasing and the touching and the looking took on all new dimensions. When we played racquetball Atalar Escort now, there was considerably more sweaty contact. Hands holding hips. Lingering handshakes. Bumping shoulders. Ever tried playing racquetball with a constant hard-on? My game had suddenly gone to hell.

Around the house there was a whole different set of issues. My parents would’ve freaked if they had thought anything was going on, they’re pretty conservative. So in the house I’m desperately trying to not tip anyone off that something is going on. Even on the occasion that we would find ourselves alone in a room, my first thought was to get out of there because I didn’t want to look guilty.

Plus, I’m also feeling guilty about going out on my girlfriend, so I’m fighting a battle against my growing attraction to Marisa. But I’m losing that battle, in part because she has started wearing shorts around the house, showing off her beautiful legs and perfectly shaped ass.

After a week of torment and guilt and hormones and teenaged angst, we found ourselves with opportunity. My parents and sister had to go out of town for a night, my girlfriend had to work late. Marisa and I had played a spirited game of racquetball with lots of lingering looks and agonizing body contact and had gone back home to take showers. When I got out of my shower I realized I didn’t have any clean underwear, but instead of going to look for some I got the bright idea to wear tennis shorts with no underwear. I can’t deny, the main reason was Marisa. Somehow the idea of going commando while playing backgammon seemed hot.

Actually it was hot. Almost immediately after we sat down to play, I was fully aroused, struggling to hide the pole trying to climb out of my shorts. She was wearing short shorts and a t shirt, and her intoxicating post-shower smell was overwhelming me. The flashing white smile, the dark, sexy eyes, the long, curly black hair…I was beyond hope. I had never been so horny, my cock was a raging tempest set to explode.

We played a few games and then we went into the kitchen to look for something to eat. The tension in the air was unbelievable, and it was only a matter of time before I got up enough nerve to get close to her. She was facing away from me, and when she turned around, I was just a foot away. She looked down and blushed a bit, but made no move to avoid me. My hand came slowly up to her waist, and then I was leaning forward, almost as in a dream, and then we were kissing. One thing I remember about our kissing, it was never hard and passionate. It was soft and passionate. I pulled her close to me and didn’t care if she could feel my hard cock underneath the thin material of my tennis shorts. We kissed and I moved my hands over her body, though I got the sense that she didn’t want things to go too far, because when my hands came up towards her breasts she moved them lightly away.

I’ll never know what could’ve happened. My lack of underwear, combined with the fact that my cock was super charged and had been erect for a solid half hour, caused an incredible premature ejaculation that seemed to last several minutes and coated my shorts. I don’t know if Marisa knew or suspected. In my embarrassment, I could only step back and mumble something stupid about not being able to do this, and then I fled to the bathroom, where I spent the next ten minutes cleaning myself up.

In a way I was glad that it had stopped, I felt bad about cheating on my girlfriend and it was probably the only thing that would’ve stopped me. A few days later I came home and Marisa was gone. She had gone back to her family who lived a few towns away. I never heard from her again.

Of course I wonder what became of her, and I wonder what she thought about that summer. I know I’ll never forget it.

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