The first time ever.
Our conversation before we did it was brief. We got to know each other just enough, but not too much. He thought it was funny that I was drinking iced coffee when it was snowing outside. His breath was warm when he kissed me outside of his car, hazelnut and cinnamon. It was brief, and it was for him. The heat was blasting. I wish I could say the warmth was comforting. On my hands and knees, I watched the snow fall through the car window. I still love the snow. But I don't drink hazelnut anymore.
The first time with him.
I had to give myself a big pep talk before I got into my car and drove to the parking lot we agreed to meet at. He called me dude as we cuddled in the backseat of his car. I was afraid to kiss him - I don't think I could say why. He seduced a secret out of me as I trembled in his arms, pushed me down and kissed me through my tears. I made myself get into it. When he moved down my body, his mouth was cold. I wasn't surprised when it didn't feel good. But through my moans and through my body, I lied. I think about that deeply personal thing I told him and how he used it to claim my body as his for the night. I promised myself I would never be that vulnerable again.
The first time in a different country.
The rush of adrenaline I felt when I jumped over the fence and ran up the jungle-lined hill was an addictive freedom I've never felt before. With my arms wrapped around his waist on the back of his scooter, driving through the empty streets, I said "fuck it" and put my full trust into this handsome Spanish stranger. Bent over the warm leather seat, I looked at the waves of the Pacific Ocean and up into the stars. I don't remember the way his warm breath felt on my shoulder or the satisfying pain. When I think about that night, it's the cool beachy breeze against my skin, the smell of the salty air, and the stars above the ocean. I don't think I've ever felt more free.
The first time I hooked up in college.
He told me I was cute. I laughed along and smiled but I didn't believe him, even though he was sincere. The first time I felt that somebody was attracted to me. He gently moved his fingers along my waist in the backseat of the car on the way home. The nicest I've ever been treated. "There's no way you're a freshman." Lying on his bed, I watched the ceiling fan. It wasn't good, but it may have been the closest thing I've had to actual intimacy. When I walked out of his apartment, I knew he would never be hearing from me again. Some things I just don't deserve.
The first time I wanted to.
I didn't.
