My first kiss happened when I was in 7th grade. I was thirteen and "dating" a boy in my class. He played pony league baseball at a park within biking distance from my house and one Saturday during the two or so weeks we went out I rode my bike up to the park to watch. I stood outside the fence in Right Field and when the inning ended he came around the fence to meet me, saying he told his coach he needed a drink of water. I went with him and he got a quick drink from the fountain nearby then took my hand as we walked back to the game. Between the fountain and the field, there was a small pine tree maybe six feet tall at its narrow peak. He stopped me just behind it and kissed me before saying goodbye and running back for his turn at bat.
I realize in hindsight that his parents and/or older brothers might have attended his games and, given the age of the pine and the height of the smoochers, it's possible they saw the whole thing from the bleachers. I would have been mortified.
I still live in the same town. The tree is still there. It's much taller now, but I remember when it was barely able to conceal two smitten seventh graders for half a minute.
What's the story of your first kiss?