The Big Bang

“Er, what do I do next?”

I was lying in my bed totally naked totally at the mercy of my hormones and various other emotions swirling inside me. A half-naked woman was sitting up on top of me giving me a look, which could’ve meant that she thought I was trying to be cute or that I was a total idiot.

How do I get myself into these things?

It was a Saturday and I’ve just finished my ROTC class. I picked up my girlfriend, had some lunch, and went back to my then deserted dorm purportedly for a short nap. Things started with a kiss, which turned into heavy petting until we were finally overcome and we gave into the heat of the moment.

So far so good, I think.

First my clothes went and then she went on top. She discarded her top and her bra in one fluid motion (you just got to love dancers). It was during that time that my mind decided to desert me (Sorry, sir. This is just way too much stimulus for me. Call me when it’s over.)

I really didn’t know what to do next.

By that time, the gorgeous girl on top of me took matters into her own hands…literally (thank God for women’s lib). If by now you still haven’t got it yet, yes indeed.

It’s my first time.

I was doing the nasty, porking someone, rocking and rolling, or to put it more simply, I was having sex.

I was in my second year in college and she was my freshman girlfriend. You’d think that I would have known more about this kind of thing by that time but the truth was I didn’t.

My dad never took me to the town whore to initiate me to the world of carnal pleasures. My friends in high school talked about the subject in hushed tones (the nuns made us believe that even thinking about sex is baaaaad…). For goodness’ sake, I was uncomfortable seeing dogs do it in the streets.

I’m a late bloomer, you see.

I got my first girlfriend when I was already in 4th year high school (some friends had girlfriends as early as grade 6!) and the only orgasms I got (until that memorable moment when I lost my virginity) was of the self induced kind, if you get my drift.

My right hand and Traci Lords were two of my constant companions.

When I got my college girlfriend, naturally, the possibility of sex didn’t seem as far-fetched as it was when I still roamed the hallowed halls of my small town catholic school. I just didn’t know how to go about it.

Anyway, like what any self-respecting geek would do when faced with the prospect of the unknown, I boned up (pun intended) for sex by doing research about it. I read books and magazines, watched dirty videos (for reference and techniques), and even polled friends who already had some experience in the matter (it would have been funny if it wasn’t so pathetic).

It didn’t help one whit because, as mentioned earlier, my brain went AWOL on me during the deed.

Suffice to say that, after my mind went blank, my partner “introduced” me to her “special place” and by then, instincts took over and pretty much everything else came naturally.

I thought I knew everything there was to know about sex (you get deluded by too much reading) but nothing really prepares when you’re there in the moment actually doing IT (believe me, that doesn’t stand for Information Technology).

Suddenly it’s not just sex anymore. It was akin to a religious experience. Corny but true.

It went beyond two sweaty bodies dancing to a rhythm as old as humans itself. It went beyond getting some. It also became about giving something back. It was more than being pleasured but giving pleasure.

It stopped being about me. It stopped being about her. It started becoming about us. By that point we both lost ourselves and I was seeing pinpricks of light in my eyes…

I was still pretty much glowing way after our skins have cooled and our heartbeats returned to their normal pace.

I am on a high; it was my first time after all.

Suddenly I was struck with the insecurity that must plague men from time to time especially in situations like these. This girl had others before me while this is just my first time. Did I do good? Was she merely being kind? Was I stellar, merely just adequate, or (God forbid) lousy?

I was probably the lousiest lover she’s ever had and she’ll be laughing behind my back with her friends.

Suddenly, she turns to me.

“I’m not doing anything after lunch tomorrow” she said.

“If you’re not doing anything…”

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