Male • 22 • Arizona
My first time happened with the high-school girlfriend — five years removed from the time we dated. I was her first boyfriend, her first kiss, the first person to see her naked, and, well, just about everything, relationship-wise. She wasn't my first girlfriend or my first kiss, nor was she the one that got away.
It was a pretty standard relationship, for high school. We had a great deal in common with one another. We both loved movies; each of us played guitar worse than the other; and neither of us was too thrilled by our lives at that point. Teenage angst aside, we started dating out of a year-long friendship, and our relationship is the only one in my life that I look back on with nothing but fondness.
Five years later, we started talking again randomly via Facebook, and it felt as if no time had passed. We agreed to get dinner and catch up over a few drinks one Friday night. Although the old feelings were (mostly) gone, I rediscovered what I had known in high school. Everything was still there for me: the friendship, the admiration, the respect. There was no ill will or bitter feelings. We had a lot of fun as we shared memories of old times and stories that had passed since we'd lost touch.
Dinner turned into more drinks, which led to me asking if I could "crash on her couch." We shared a smoke on the walk to her apartment. Then things began to change as we walked out onto her balcony for another smoke. We were standing uncomfortably close to one another — probably due to the amount of alcohol — when we began to kiss passionately. It felt warm, soft, and inviting, just as it had back in high school.
Scurrying into her bedroom, we began to undress each other. (Just like in high school, I couldn't manage to get her bra off, which made us both laugh.) We had sex over the next fifteen or twenty minutes, in various positions; after she climaxed, she instructed me to stop, and we lay in bed cuddling and sharing kisses as we complimented each other. We had a brief talk about what this "meant" but it was very apparent we were both on the same page. She told me she didn't believe in relationships, and I told her I didn't want to date her again. With all the memories and the enjoyment of each other's company, the romantic feelings we used to share were just present enough to make the evening magical — but one evening was enough.
We cuddled all night in between having sex another three times before morning. I never had an orgasm. Throughout the pillow talk, I told her that regardless of anything that happened, there would always be a place for her in my heart. She echoed my sentiments, telling me I was her first boyfriend and that there would always be something between us. After the sun rose and we had sobered up, she walked me out to my car, and we shared one last nostalgic kiss before we parted ways.
