In your first same sex experience did you kiss on lips or just sex?

[hilululu]

I had sex with my same-sex guy many, many times for several years, and he tried to kiss me on the lips. I pushed him away. I said, "If you try that again, I will kill you." So he didn’t. I was repulsed by the thought of kissing a man on the lips. But his dick in my mouth and him nutting in my mouth was just fine with me.

This experience reflects the complexity of human intimacy and attraction. While many people associate kissing with deep connection and emotional vulnerability, it’s not uncommon for others to draw clear boundaries about what they are comfortable with, even within intimate relationships. For some, physical acts like oral sex might feel purely sexual and detached from emotional intimacy, while acts like kissing might evoke feelings of closeness that they are not ready to explore or accept.

It’s intriguing how we can compartmentalize certain aspects of intimacy. Your comfort with engaging in oral sex, while feeling repulsed by kissing, highlights the diverse ways in which people navigate their relationships and desires. Sexuality is not always linear or uniform; it often defies societal norms and expectations. This dichotomy doesn’t necessarily negate the connection you shared but instead reveals your unique personal boundaries.

Such boundaries can stem from a variety of factors, including upbringing, personal preferences, or internalized beliefs about gender, sexuality, or emotional attachment. It’s also possible that kissing felt too intimate or symbolic of a deeper emotional bond, which you may not have been ready to acknowledge or pursue at the time. These feelings are valid and reflect how individuals define and experience their own comfort zones within relationships.

Over time, perspectives on intimacy and connection may evolve. Some people find that what they once avoided or rejected becomes something they later embrace, as they grow more comfortable with themselves and their desires. Others maintain firm boundaries, and that’s perfectly okay, too. The key is understanding and respecting one’s own feelings while being honest with partners about what is and isn’t acceptable.

Ultimately, intimacy is deeply personal, and what matters most is that the experiences you share align with your comfort levels and boundaries. Your story serves as a reminder of the diversity of human connection and the importance of staying true to yourself while navigating the complexities of relationships and sexuality.

[hanar123]

For my first same-sex experience, kissing on the lips wasn’t part of it. It felt like the dynamic was purely physical at the time, and I wasn’t ready to explore the emotional side that kissing might evoke. The encounter was thrilling in its own way, but I remember actively avoiding anything that felt too intimate, like kissing or prolonged eye contact. For me, the boundary was clear: sex was okay, but kissing felt like it crossed into emotional territory I wasn’t prepared to navigate.

Looking back, I realize how much that hesitation was tied to my own insecurities and internalized beliefs about same-sex relationships. I had compartmentalized sex and intimacy, thinking they had to be separate. At the time, I couldn’t reconcile the idea of being emotionally vulnerable with a man, even though I was physically comfortable.

Over time, though, my perspective changed. As I became more comfortable with my sexuality, I started to see kissing as a natural extension of intimacy rather than a threat to my identity. It wasn’t immediate, but I learned to embrace the emotional connection that can come with physical acts like kissing. In fact, it eventually became one of the most meaningful aspects of my relationships.

That first experience, however, taught me a lot about myself and my boundaries. It reminded me that everyone’s journey with intimacy is different, and that’s okay. What matters most is finding what feels authentic and respectful for you and your partner in the moment.

[amravat123]

In my first same-sex experience, we skipped the kissing altogether and went straight to the physical side of things. At the time, I didn’t even think about it—I was more focused on the newness of the experience and figuring out what I was comfortable with. Kissing felt too intimate, almost as if it symbolized something deeper than I was ready to face.

I think a lot of it had to do with my mindset at the time. I saw kissing as an act reserved for emotional connection, whereas sex felt more detached and exploratory. It’s interesting how our minds can create these distinctions, even though the physical acts are equally intimate in their own ways.

That said, the experience was still exciting and eye-opening. It allowed me to start exploring a part of myself I had kept hidden for a long time. But it also made me realize how much I still needed to work through in terms of my comfort with vulnerability and emotional connection.

Looking back now, I can see how much I’ve grown. Kissing, for me, has become one of the most intimate and exciting parts of a connection. It’s a reminder that our boundaries can evolve as we become more comfortable with ourselves and our partners.

[piciossa]

it was one of the most memorable parts of the encounter. I think it was because I had already thought about what that moment might mean for me emotionally. Kissing felt like an acknowledgment of the connection we were building, even if it was new and unfamiliar territory.

That said, I completely understand why some people might avoid kissing during their first experience. It can feel deeply vulnerable, like it exposes a part of you that you might not be ready to share. For me, though, the vulnerability was part of the thrill. It was a way to say, “I see you, and I want to share this with you,” even if I wasn’t entirely sure where the experience would lead.

What surprised me most was how natural it felt in the moment. I had built up so much anxiety and fear about what kissing another man might mean for me, but when it happened, all of that melted away. It felt less like a statement and more like a shared connection that needed no explanation.

Looking back, I’m glad I allowed myself to embrace that vulnerability. It set the tone for how I approach intimacy now—with honesty, openness, and a willingness to connect on every level, not just physically.

[antonio123]

I think that was because I wasn’t ready to cross that emotional line. The encounter was physical, exciting, and new, but I kept a clear boundary around anything that felt too intimate. Kissing, for me, represented a deeper connection that I wasn’t prepared to explore at the time.

I remember feeling conflicted about it afterward. On one hand, I was proud of myself for stepping out of my comfort zone and exploring something new. On the other hand, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had held something back, as if I was only halfway allowing myself to experience the moment fully.

In hindsight, I think those boundaries were important for where I was at the time. It wasn’t about rejecting the other person—it was about figuring out what I was comfortable with and what intimacy meant to me. Over time, as I became more confident in my identity, those boundaries shifted, and I started to see kissing as an integral part of connection and vulnerability.

That first experience taught me a lot about myself and how I approach intimacy. It’s a journey, and everyone’s path is different. What matters most is respecting your own boundaries and allowing yourself the space to grow and evolve at your own pace.

[deigo123]

During my first same-sex experience, we didn’t kiss on the lips—it was purely about the physical side of things. I think a lot of it had to do with fear. Kissing felt too close, too emotional, and I wasn’t ready to deal with what that might mean for me. It was easier to focus on the physical aspect and keep the emotional side at arm’s length.

I remember feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness throughout the experience. It was new territory for me, and while I was curious and eager to explore, I was also hyper-aware of my own boundaries. Kissing felt like it would make the whole thing too real, too intimate, and I wasn’t ready for that level of connection.

What’s interesting is how much those feelings have changed over time. Now, I see kissing as an essential part of intimacy, a way to connect on a deeper level with someone. But at the time, I was still figuring out what I wanted and how I felt about my own sexuality. The experience wasn’t just about the other person—it was also about learning more about myself.

That first step into same-sex intimacy was an important part of my journey, even without the kissing. It taught me to listen to my instincts and respect my own boundaries, while also opening the door to a new way of connecting with others.