Angelene

I started late; much later than all my friends. So by the time that January day rolled around, I was far beyond ready. My mother was leaving for a brief holiday, and I was alone for an extended weekend-- it was one of our snow days, just a few days after Christmas vacation had ended. I had met him at a New Year's party: we had ended up in a bathroom together, and had made a few clumsy attempts at full-throttle physical contact. But I was about to pass out and so was he, so it was thankless. I went to see him at work a few days later, and I declined an offer to go to lunch. But I gave him my number, and he called, so we made plans to go dancing. I drove through very bad snow and met him at a club, and asked him to come home with me soon, as it was still snowing. We talked about art (my thing) and poetry (his), and then we lay down to watch a movie. I snuggled up to him and he kissed me, and we started making out. He went down on me and gave me my fourth orgasm ever, and I returned the favor. We snuggled and he went to sleep. The next morning, we started messing around again, and suddenly, as he was on top of me, I felt something a little different between my legs. I said "no" without meaning to, and he stopped thrusting. But I put my arms around him and lifted up to meet him, and just as I was really getting into it, he came. It wasn't satisfying, it wasn't safe, and it wasn't a fair preview of what was to come... sex with him improved greatly, especially as I tried new positions. Moral is: The First Time IS Mostly Unexpected and Awkward. In other words, you know you should try it again.