Kissing Girls

            by Justin Malachowski

 

Pleasing Girls

 

Early in my youth, I learned that my life pursuits would be centered on the attracting of girls. When I was no more then twelve years old, I found my self-will being taken away from me. I could no longer decide things for my self. It wasn’t that other people were telling me what to do; it was just that some sort of unseen force was causing me to do things against my will. I no longer did things for my self; I no longer dressed for my own entertainment or played sports for the fun of it. Instead, I started doing it for them. I don’t know why, because at that age I was still convinced that they were icky cootie bearing germ buckets, basically the incarnation of all that was bad and evil in the world, a thought that I still resort back to from time to time.

           

            The sun burns strong onto the tanbark of the playground, glinting off the rusted metal of the monkey bars. Two girls stand there idly looking on to the swarms of energetic boys scattered across the dark asphalt kicking a checkered ball around in a game vaguely resembling a game of soccer. The two girls are oblivious to the boy standing a short distance behind them, ears open.

            “Wow you see that boy James over there?” One girl says to the other.

            “Which one is he?” The other replies.

            “The one with the brown curly hair.”

            “Oh him? Yeah he’s cute do you see how hard he kicks that ball?”

            “Oh yeah I would love to marry him, he’s just such a specimen.”

            “Hey I heard that he has armpit hair.”

            “Really? That’s hot!”

            “Hey!” the two girls turn to see the boy who has been standing behind them for some time approaching, “Hey, I have armpit hair you want to see?” The boy begins to take off his shirt.

            “There are like three hairs there,” One of the girls says as she shields her eyes from the sun with her hand.

            “Hey its hair isn’t it.” The boy defends his pride from the cynical girls.

            “Ok fine you have armpit hair,” one of the girls concedes, “But do you have any other hair?”

            “You mean like on my head?” The boy says innocently.

            “No I mean down there,” The two girls start to giggle.

            “What do you mean down there?”

            “We mean Private place hair.” The girls grow large grins on there faces and the boy stands there, the sun to his back, looking very confused and overwhelmed. “Well you going to show us or not?” The boy looks back at the two girls pondering his options.

            “Ok I’ll do it.” The boy begins to unbuckle his pants. One of the girls, impatient at the speed of the boy’s stripping reaches over and pulls down his pants and tighty whities all in one swift motion. A couple seconds of stillness ensues as if it was all captured in a photograph.

            “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” The two girls begin to scream and the motion and noise of the playground stop all at once, as all the children begin to run towards the source of the screams. The two girls run off screaming and the boy is left there bare-naked white ass gleaming in the sun, surrounded by a crown of children.

A boy with brown curly hair and a soccer ball under his arm breaks through the center of the crowd surrounding the boy.

            “You call that pubic hair?” He kicks the ball and runs off again.

 

Kissing Girls

 

            The one act of human kind that really confuses me is the practice of kissing. What purpose does it serve? Hunting, shopping, traveling, war; that all makes sense, but kissing is a part of human nature that baffles me completely. It doesn’t give you babies, it doesn’t cause an orgasm, nor is it a source of vitamins. The only real effect of kissing is the passing of germs (i.e. Herpes, mono and the common cold.) So now, why am I so entirely and utterly infatuated with kissing girls?

 

            It’s a warm afternoon summer and two graduated six graders of opposite sex lay out on a freshly cut lawn. We’ll call them Habafus-mina-tutu and Sue.

            “So you ever kiss before?” Sue says to Habafus-mina-tutu. Habafus-mina-tutu stops digging his fingers in the grass and turns towards Sue.

            “Um… Yeah. I have. Ah. Yeah I’ve kissed girls before.” He says quickly before turning back over to dig in the grass again. A couple minutes of silence pass before Habafus-mina-tutu turns back over to Sue. “Have you ever kissed before?”

            “What type of Question is that,” She responds harshly, “I’m an expert at kissing, and I’ve been doing it since the second grade.”

            “Really, I’ve been doing it since the first!” The boy retorts.

            “Really is that so, then that must mean you are pretty good at it. You want to show me how good you are?” Sue looks down at the ground and grins. Habafus-mina-tutu swallows deeply.

            “YeesS!” Habafus-mina-tutu says as his voice crakes. He coughs and says it again making his voice deep, “Yes!” They look at each other for a while before closing their eyes and move quickly towards each other. BAM! Their heads collide and they both fall back to the ground.

            “Lets try that again more slowly,” Sue says, and Habafus-mina-tutu nods in agreement. They try it again, Habafus-mina-tutu closes his eyes, and this time moves slowly towards the girl. His lips embrace her smooth moist lips. He feels her tongue pushing between his lips and he opens his mouth to let it in. After a while of kissing they stop and the boy lies back onto the grass.

            “That was good,” Habafus-mina-tutu says. “What did you think?”

            “Bahahahahahaha.” Sue responds.

            “Hey Habafus?” A voice comes from the porch nearby. “What are you doing out there?”

            “Nothing Mom,” He responds and quickly stands up.

            “What are you doing with the goat Habafus?” The mother questions.

            “Nothing Mom.”

            “Not nothing Habafus, I saw you making out with her through the window!”

 

A Boy and a Girl

 

            Sex, home base, the art of making love, Kamasutra, or what ever you might call it, the truth is that you have sex to make babies. Sure people try to remedy that by putting their astronaut in a space suit, but just remember that no matter how many bars you lock Johnny behind if you’re a Christian, Muslim, Jew, or just stupid, condoms and sodomy are sins and your all going to hell.

 

            Freshmen year high school, two teenagers sit on a sofa in a basement watching American Pie. A boy and a girl.

            “Hey my dads gone until eight tonight, you want to do anything?” The girl says to the boy.

            “Like what?” The boy responds a little excited.

            “Anything you want.”

            Suddenly it feels as if there is a god and he’s saying, “Moses free my people.” The boy takes a deep gulp.

            “Do you want to take of your shirt?” The boy crosses his fingers behind his back.

            “Sure,” the girl pulls off her shirt revealing a black bra, “anything else?” she says when her shirt has been tossed to the ground. The boys heart begins to pound heard in his chest.

            “Take off your bra,” the boy says.

            “Ok,” The girl says and begins to reach behind her back

            “You shall have no other gods besides me,” The boy whispers to himself. He reaches up to pick the forbidden apple. The girl rests her hand on the boy’s leg and his entire body begins to shake. Her hand moves up and up. She reaches his zipper and tugs down on it, ZIP. Sodom and Gomorra were campfires and the seven plagues was your geometry test.

            “Forgive them father, for they know not what they do,” The boy yells, and with that, the flood came and Noah had yet to build his boat. “God damn it!”

            “Oh shit my dad is home.”