The experience of kissing my first smoker happened in the same instance that I kissed my dear friend Rhae. Standing nearly as tall as myself Rhae was about 5''3. This being said she also has about 100 pounds on me, but she wears it well. Her skin is pale and her cheeks are round, and in her loud voice she shouts obsenities fit for a sailor. She dyes her hair at least twice a month, and at the moment the tips of her hair are dyed teal, and the rest is a flat jet black.
It's her eyes that pull me in. They are what one might call "bedroom eyes." With light blonde eyelashes as frames her hazel eyes change like a screen savor. Each day it's a suprise as to what color they'll be. They might be a stormy grey or a milky green, or my favorite a strange combonation of blue, grey, and green. Her lips are thin compared to my own, and her skin is neary starch white help against my caramel complexion. My hair remains the same, a tangle of dark brown ringlets.
Rhae and I sit together in class, far in the back of the spacious room, we whisper and giggle, and she tells me that in me it's my eyes that amaze her. I'm pleasently suprised by this, and of course flattered. We lean in closely to eachother as we talk about what else we find attractive, I tell her I love her voice, which she denies is bland. She retaliates with her own adoration of my hair, which I'm quick to point out is just a mess of frizzy curls. We continue like this for a while until finally I joke that if she really likes my body that much then "Why don't you just kiss me already?" She considers, then puts a large warm hand on my leg, puckering her lips obnoxiously. I toss my gaze to the side to see if the teacher is looking, then I turn back to Rhae and lean in closly, pressing my lips to hers gently. She snaps her eyes open and laughs, clearly suprised I followed through.
I stay silent until she finishes laughing, then simutaneosly we look back towards the teacher and back to eachother. She pulls her chair right next to her own, then she moves forward and plants and hard kiss to my lips. I close my eyes for a moment, then pull away, suprised at the bitter taste on my lips. On her breath I smell cigrettes, and the last in my mouth must be nicotine. I run my tounge over my lips until the taste is just a memory at the back of my throat. She looks at me with confusion in her murkey hazle eyes, "Kaitlynn?" I raise my eye brows and tell her that I can actually taste the cigrette she smoked before she came into school that day. She quickly apologizes, but I just shake my head at her and kiss her again.
We part quickly, because we've already pushed our luck kissing in the back of class, and if we actually had the audacity to start making out I'm sure we'd both be in detention. I lick my lips once more, the taste no longer bitter but smokey, and I fins myself enjoying it. Anxious as I am, I breifly wonder if I'll become addicted, but I realize that there's no real way to find out, and so I let it drop. The taste coats the inside of my mouth, and as it starts to fade I want more, but as I think this the bell rings and class is over. We part ways as usual with a promise to see eachother at lunch, then the day carries on as usual. At lunch we brag about not getting caught to some of our friends, and the we mostly forget about it, after all, though it was our first time kissing, a kiss is just a kiss and to either of us it ment nothing but passing the time.