Her Name Was Shirley

Shirley was the first woman, not girl but woman, I ever kissed. I felt so alive at that moment, so wonderfully fulfilled as a man for the first time in my life. Hell, ifI'd been a woman right then I'd have raised my leg at the knee in the classic kissing pose! Damn but I was turned on and the tent in my jeans was a solid testament to that fact.

Our kiss lasted for quite some time. My hands roved over her body but did not touch her breasts or ass for fear I would end what we were doing. Her hands too, rubbed and squeezed my arm muscles and wrapped around my neck. We kissed the kisses of passionate lovers. Eventually we moved to her couch and kissed and touched each other.

For the next three months I would go over to Shirley's at least once a week. We ate dinner together, watched television on her 19" black and white set, or listened to the stereo. She taught me to dance (as best she could – I'm still not graceful at dancing), to not be afraid to sing in front of others and to be mentally strong, just like she was.

A funny side note was her teaching me to be me, and not what I think someone else wants me to be. I had gone to a store here in Tulsa called Globe Clothiers, a store that catered to the black male style of dress that was popular in the clubs at the time. I bought a pair of super-bell hip-hugger jeans, platform shoes, a fancy tight rayon type shirt, a long black leather coat and a white "brim" hat. Remember, this was in 1972 around the time of the Black Exploitation movies like Coffee and Super-Fly. The flamboyant style of dress was in style! Well, it was in style for black males – not teenage white boys. But I had it in my mind that those clothes would please her since she was a black woman. Shirley and I had a long talk about those clothes and black being black and white being white. I was a tight blue jeans, flannel shirt, hiking or cowboy boot white boy and that was what I needed to stay; I needed to be me and not what I think someone else wanted me to be. And of course she was right. I never wore the "brim" or shirt in public and a friend of mine bought the leather coat from me later. I did were the shoes a lot for dress as that was a style for all races. As for the super bells, I wore them a couple of times but they eventually went to the Goodwill box. I looked real stupid in them, even with the platform shoes!

By now readers, you're probably wanting to get down to the sex part of this story. Sorry, but Shirley and I never made love. Oh I tried. And yes, there was a time or two she weakened and I'd get to play with and suck her naked breasts or run my hands down the back of her slacks to squeeze her bare ass cheeks. But that was it. She had resolved that we were not going to "do it" and that was that. I never saw her completely naked, nor did she ever see me that way. I now know I was merely a convenience for her to combat her loneliness for awhile. But to this day I think about what it would have been like to actually have made love to that sexy older woman. I'd bet my life it would have been fantastic!

At the end of the three months, Shirley told me that I had to stop coming over as she had started dating someone she met through a friend and liked him a great deal. He obviously would not approve of our relationship and she felt that it was best if we stopped seeing each other. Just as well as I had started dating someone seriously myself at school and was having a hard time explaining to her where I was going on the nights I would go to Shirley's apartment. But I was hurt nonetheless.

I truly cared for Shirley. No, I don't think I was "in love" with her but I did "love" her. She was a very special person and I have never met anyone else quite like her.

During the time we had been seeing each other we had continued to work together at Sky Chef's and we would laugh and play throughout our shift (much to the raised eyebrows of our co-workers) as we had been doing the previous three months of our relationship. But about three or four weeks after we stopped seeing each other I quit Sky Chef's. My long night hours at work were taking its toll on my grades and I was going to have to go to summer school for a science class to graduate. So to keep from flunking math as well, I quit work.

I called Shirley a few times afterwards but things had cooled and the last time I called she said I probably shouldn't call her anymore. I never saw or spoke to Shirley again.

In the coming years, I would have many relationships with black woman. Some long-term, some one-night stands; some single, some married. But I will always remember my time with Shirley East and what she taught me. To this day those first few minutes of our first kiss are a moment frozen in time in my mind that will never be erased.

I wonder when I'm old and senile if I will stop strangers in the nursing home to tell them about Shirley East, the first grown woman I ever really kissed.