The most epic first kiss and one of the last ones I have had to date happened on my 21st birthday in a crowded casino with a boy I barely knew but had been dancing with all night. Our group of friends had started sharing flavored lip gloss and kissing and being silly at the table while we waited on more drinks. This brown skinned boy gave joking kisses to my friends and pointedly avoided kissing me while a little snake of jealousy wound its way through my gut. Before I could let it turn itself into a huff, he stalked to the end of the table behind the chair where I was seated, lifted a piece of hair off the nape of my neck, and when I turned my head towards him to try to figure out what he was doing, he reached around the other side of me, gripped my chin firmly and turned my face up to his. That first kiss left me breathless and shocked, it surprised me as much as it made me weak in the knees and inspired applause from our group. The kiss itself was very memorable but sadly the boy was not.
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