For the first time, on a couch in a living room when his mom was asleep and his video games were playing the home screen in the background. The friction ruined the outside of my favorite corduroy khakis. I wore them after, but it was my little secret.
In a minivan, in the driver’s seat. My ass hit the steering wheel, the horn honked, and his mom woke up. I giggled as I drove away. My friends honked at me after that. I wish I hadn’t told them.
After a Keller Williams concert, a little stoned and afraid who could hear.
Not much after that.
After my first full yoga session, with the doors closed and the light dim, while in savasana. I clamped my hand over my mouth so my peers wouldn’t hear.
Not once after that.
After too many years and too many beers and after asking him what he wanted to do to me that he had never done to any other girl. His response made me laugh; I didn’t let him do it to me, either.
The next morning, even with makeup askew and the scent of stale beer.
After my first six mile run; walking in the door and letting my body lie flat; parallel with the floorboards. I had to cover my mouth again.
On many runs after that.
Once, just from sitting down to pee but thinking about him.
On the cool, wet grass at a beautiful climbing destination, before the tent was even staked.
In my new house with a new woman on not-so-new sheets. I covered my mouth because I was shocked.
Many, many times after that.
In a bed after not seeing her for what seemed like forever.
Five times in one night, after half a bottle of wine, half a pitcher of beer, and a whole giving of her heart. I still get incredibly turned on just thinking about it.
Even more times after that.
When I purchased my first vibrator. (I am forever indebted to you, Lelo, and your 30-second orgasm.)
Once when I didn’t let her touch me. Just the sound of her…
Not for a little bit after that. This was difficult.
When we changed the rules and she was in charge.
When my arms were pinned above my head.
She can stay in charge if she wants.
When I felt her legs around my torso; the smoothness of muscle-covered skin and the light that shone from her eyes, even in the darkest of rooms.
I want her to. I’m ready to keep feeling this way.