How do you say 'kiss' in french?

So, this summer, I was driving down 13th street heading home from... something... meh, I don't remember what it was.  Well anyways, I was literally two blocks from my apartment when the truck in front of me stopped really fast.  Luckily I was far enough away to stop a major collision, but, bad news, I still hit him.  When I did, I started FREAKING out.  I was thinking to myself, "Great, Beth, you IDIOT. Now you are going to have to pay for the damage, have to deal with your parents yelling at you, have to deal with the stupid police and insurance companies, blah blah blah..." Like I said... Freaking.  Well, the guy I hit (in a junky old pick up truck) kept on driving... ummm... what? I rolled down my windows, and motioned him to pull over.  I didn't know if I had done any damage, and as much as I would have liked to forget that I even hit him, I couldn't.  We needed to settle this and get things looked at.  Well, he pulled over on Jackson, RIGHT in front of my apartment.  I got out and walked over to his car and was looking at the back of his truck.  The foot step part was a little bent down, but other than that, everything looked okay.  I looked at my car and the only thing that was damaged was that my license plate was a little bent.  Seriously, this was LUCKY.  Well, the guy got out of his truck, started looking at it, and I started apologizing like I have never apologized before.  Seriously.  I was groveling.  After a few minutes of silence and a couple of blank stares from his part, I realize, "oh... this guy doesn't speak English."  He was Hispanic... and as for me? I know about three words in Spanish.  NOT IDEAL.  Well, he's looking at the foot step and I offer to call the police if wanted to file a report.  Immediately he looks at me and says, "No, no, no.  No police." Well, okay then, if you insist.  I ask him if he wants my insurance, and I show him my card.  He says, in very broken English, "No. Not bad. Fifty dollars."  All he wants is fifty dollars? Seriously? I could do that... I had $50 cash on me if that would take away this mess.  Even though the damage to his truck didn't look bad, you know how mechanics are... they overcharge for everything.  Anyways, I continue to apologize and ask him if there is anything I can do.  He tells me, "No, it's okay."  I thank him for his kindness and understanding.  He smiles at me and then walks over to my car, investigating any damage.  He looks at my license plate and asks, "You are not from Omaha? Illinois?" I told him how I was here in Omaha for school at Creighton.  I was willing to chat for a little bit... I mean, I did hit the guy and he let me off.  He told me how he was taking English classes at a local community college.  It took him a long time to say what he was trying to say.  He corrected himself often, thought hard about his word choices, and when I answered him, it took him a few moments to process my response.  He asked me if I spoke Spanish.  I told him no, but I speak a little bit of French.  He says, "Oh... how... how do you say 'kiss' in French?"... Ummmm, WHAT?! Did I understand you alright? Did you just ask me how to say 'kiss'?  He was giving me a goofy little glare, and I say, "Oh, umm... do you means keys?" (imagine me at this time holding up my keys...) He laughs and says, "No. KISS (makes a pucker)." Well, of course I laugh my "nervous" laugh and I said no.  Well, the rest of the 40 MINUTES (really? 40 minutes? WAY too long...) he was trying to talk to me, he asked me about my family, my home in Chicago, if I wanted to go salsa dancing that night (I said no, duh) and if I had a boyfriend... Now, normally, I don't lie about having a boyfriend, BUT in this case I did.  I just said, oh, yeah, big guy. Plays American Football.  So after having to endure that painfully awkward conversation, I finally was let loose from the man whom I hit, who then proceeded to hit on me... this WOULD happen...