Most of it, I remember as if it were earlier this evening. Parts I guess just didn’t make a lasting impression.
I sort of remember her shutting off the engine and looking out the windshield at the playa lake in the middle before turning to look at me, although that may be a composite of the many, many times she took me there before that night to talk about something “important” in relative privacy.
I don’t remember what it was she said, although I know we were there for several minutes with me listening and trying to pretend to care.
Then, Wendy leaned over and kissed me.
I know I said we’d kissed before that, and we had. But, it was really more of a junior high or high school kind of “adults might see us” kiss. Somewhat longer and gentler than quick perfunctory pecks, but not quite up to playing on the big screen in Hollywood.
The kiss Wendy laid on me reached down through my throat and pulled out my soul with her tongue.
Time out.
I should probably explain here that I’d sort of overheard our favorite uncle teasing my younger sister several years before about kissing. He claimed the couple kissing on the television, the guy was spitting in her mouth. My little sister was maybe eight at the time and of course busted out with “Ewwwww!”
And I wholeheartedly agreed with her. I ran for the bathroom as fast as my twelve year old legs would carry me and threw up a little.
I mean, seriously now. That was just nasty.
As a result, almost all of the kissing I’d done up to that point had been mostly of the “dry” variety. A couple of girls had gotten a little sloppy, but I’d pretty much managed to keep their slobber out of my mouth. And I’d darn sure kept my saliva locked away behind my lips. I mean, it was only polite to do so since I wasn’t really wild about the idea of hocking loogies at each other.
Yeah, yeah. Pretty damn funny. Heap big jock getting grossed out by slobber like some little grade school girl chanting about “cooties”.
But, when Wendy laid that kiss on me, damn. My brain turned off and I forgot all about worrying about such things as saliva being a bodily fluid and thus capable of spreading some diseases albeit not the worst like that new HIV shit they were talking about in high school health classes and the news.
Her soft lips were pressing and sucking and mashing and tugging on mine. Then her strong tongue pressed against my slightly parted lips and I didn’t even think of trying to keep the invader out, but flicked my own tongue out to fence with hers.
Suddenly, she paused and pulled away.
“God, Kevin.” She panted. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. Or how much.”
I knew there was a reason we hadn’t, but I couldn’t think what it was in my dazed lip drunk state. Nor was I given a chance to track down the thought as she leaned into me again.
It couldn’t, could not possibly, have been comfortable for her. The steering wheel was pressing against her on the left, the seat she was twisted in didn’t give her much room to pull away from it on the right. And she drove a Volkswagen Rabbit with a manual gear shift she was leaning across to reach me where I was sitting comfortably, not even turned, in the passenger seat.