There’s always a first time, the first time you see a woman smile, the first time you see her dressed up. There’s that first hug when you squeeze her just enough so she knows your intentions are not friendly. None of those compare to the first time you see her take off her clothes. I watch movies where I see men rip off panties and pop buttons on shirts, I could never do that because I appreciate the art form too much. Her stepping out of her heels, sliding out of her jeans or stepping out of a dress. The first time I saw her naked I memorized every inch. Her bellybutton, the scar on her lower thigh, the mole sitting right above her panty line.
Standing there, a smile on her face, legs slightly parted. This was our Rubicon, once she crossed the room and straddled my lap there wasn’t going to be a coming to Jesus moment where we realized this was happening too fast. The first time we kissed and my hand fell between her legs it took all the will power I had not to replace my tongue with my fingers, any that I had left died seeing the pink lace on her Virgin Island tan.
“I feel like you’re seducing me,” she whispered in my ear. Rubbing her hands in my hair, her lips on my forehead, my lips on her collarbone. Gripping her neck, pulling her mouth to mines, “I think we’re seducing each other.”
I could feel her hips moving, her moans were terribly distracting in the most pleasurable way possible. In an instant I didn’t want to taste her or have her lips around my hardness. I just needed to be inside her. I just wanted to be inside her.
She stood up, pulled it out and pulled her panties to the side. Our eyes met and she slid me in, no foreplay, no condom, no hesitation. My hands on her waist, her hands on my shoulders.
I don’t often remember a lot of first but tonight would be a first that I was soon not to forget.