"For Love of Comic Books and Chris" "Ah, shit!" I yelled as I bolted around the counter. Some kid had just lifted a case of baseball cards from the counter where the delivery guy had set it an hour before. The little creep snagged it and ran up the steps to the street. I just made out his sneakers hitting the top step at full speed as I got to the door. A customer was right on my heels as I pounded up the steps. We went two different directions but the kid was out of sight by the time I hit the corner of the street. This was a total disaster. I got my ass reamed for the theft. Ironically, I wasn't the one that received the order. The owner's mother had. But he wasn't about to take her on over it. I just gritted my teeth. I hadn't known what the box was or I would have put it in the back. The customer that had tried to help came back with me and even tried to explain that it wasn't my fault. Nice guy. I was too upset over the situation to really notice much about him. A week passed and he came back for some comic books. This time I noticed. Pale blond straight hair that fell over his ice blue eyes. About my height, six feet or so. Skin so pale it practically glowed. Black jeans and a black windbreaker with a black t-shirt and black sneakers. If I didn't know better, I would think he liked black. He specifically sought me out to help him find the issues he was looking for. "My name's Chris," he introduced himself. I found myself lost in his eyes as he looked directly into mine with a lop-sided smile. They were a blue that just barely made it past gray. In fact, the edges were that icy blue but the striations that run toward the pupil were gray. And somehow they were so deep. It jerked my attention back to finding what he asked for. Once I had them all, I handed them over clumsily. His hands were cool to the touch. I shivered. This was unreal. No one had ever caused me this much klutziness just standing there. "Thanks..." he paused, waiting. "Lael. My name is Lael. No problem, glad to help," I was nearly stammering in an unexpected panic. "Well, thanks. Sorry I couldn't help you catch that punk last week." "No, thank you for trying. No one else budged," anger tinged my voice. "See you around," Chris said as he headed toward the front to pay for his books. My eyes found themselves attached to his retreating ass as he went. Skinny, like me, but the jeans were tight enough to give it a shape. I was bemused, lost in wondering just what was happening. Don't get me wrong, I was no virgin. I knew perfectly well that I thought he was hot and sexy. I knew what I wanted, so this wasn't about suppressed longings for guys or some shit like that. Nothing suppressed about it. I just felt different for some reason. This was beyond just wanting to strip off the layers of black and see if the rest of him was as pale. I wanted to know more about him. That is about when I gave myself a mental slap upside the head. Hell, I didn't even know yet if he was into men. But something was telling he was. I found myself thinking about him that night as I zoned out in front of the TV. Whatever my roommate Melinda was watching didn't register at all in my brain. Chris is what I was focused on internally. His straight, thin nose. How his hair hit the back of his neck. The sound of his voice. That lop-sided smile that still managed to show some teeth without it warping his face. The funny thing was, it wasn't lust. I wasn't in erotic mode at all. I was curious about him. He was stuck in my head. I finally dragged my mind off of him, firmly, and read for a while. Chris began showing up once a week to check on new books coming in. He collected a wide range of titles, DC, Marvel and independents. Good books, most of which I at least knew the current storylines for, if not back-stories. We'd chat about them and defend our positions when the odd disagreement would pop up. Soon, he would make sure I was the only one he would get to help him. I got told a couple of times that he had come in but left immediately when I wasn't there. Curiouser and curiouser. This went on for a couple of months. No real details were exchanged outside of the comic book universes we both enjoyed. But all of this time I was becoming more and more intrigued by him. He always made sure to keep eye contact with me when we talked. His whole attention was directed at me. Trust me, that kind of focus is very disconcerting. I don't easily blush, but I could feel the potential just below the skin. My entire body felt heated to near frying when he watched me that way. And his hands always managed to brush mine when I would give him his books. Not in an obvious flirting way though. If it wasn't purely accidental, it was at least subconscious on his part. I was desperately doing my damnedest to not read things into it. I failed more often than not. I began looking forward to seeing him. I finally decided enough was enough. The next time Chris came into the shop, I led him to a distant corner away from everyone. It was all I could do to keep my stomach from throwing a revolt that would embarrass me to the end of my days. I may have even started sweating, but I was not going to chicken out. "Do you want to come over to my house tonight and talk? My roommate is out." I finally said without tripping over my numb tongue. "Sure. Sounds good. What time?" Chris said with his crooked smile. "I am off in about 2 hours, so how about after?" I was feeling almost ready for my insides to heave and be outside. "Cool. I'll just hang around until then. I don't have any other plans tonight," his smile actually evened out as he spoke. My eyes felt glued to his reddish lips. "That's fine by me. I have to get a shipment sorted and on the shelves. And set aside the regular's stuff. Ah hell, that you includes you." I felt a total fool. "Another perfectly good reason to hang around," he grinned at me. I know I blushed then. The flames on my cheeks could be nothing else. I hurried off to get my shit done. He went to browsing the shelves and bins, stopping to read now and then. I was very aware of him no matter where either of us was. That nervous flutter in my gut stayed with me too. It puzzled the hell out of me. But it was also kind of neat at the same time. It was something completely new for me. Those two hours sped by and crawled. I got my assignments finished and could call it a day without any problem. I said bye and Chris came to the counter to pay for his stuff. I waited for him up at the street. He came up the stairs, a dim ghost clothed in gray this time instead of black. I smiled and we started walking up University Avenue toward my apartment down about five blocks. We didn't chat as we walked but the silence didn't seem awkward either. Just walking with a destination is all. I fumbled the keys in the lock and finally got the door open before I dropped the stupid keys. Swinging the door open, I held the screen so he could go in. This put us in my living room. This was an old building and the living room was humungous. Two full couches fit and still left a lot of open space. The dining room was small and so was the kitchen. A hall door shut off the bathroom and two bedrooms from the living room. He set his bag on the coffee table and sat down. I sat on the couch across from him. Now came that eternal moment of silence where neither of us really knew what to say. At least he didn't. I could see confusion in his eyes as we both struggled to find something to say. I decided to just be blunt. Hey, all he could say was that I was mistaken and fuck off. "Are you into guys, Chris?" Ok, I was blunt as a pickax to the skull. Too late now. What I wasn't prepared for was the dumbfounded pure panic on his face. If I thought he was pale before, he redefined the term and the color right then. His eyes were wide and I could tell he was shocked witless. This was not at all the reaction I expected. Maybe a yes or maybe a no or even a hell no. But this total brain freeze wasn't on the list. "How did you know?" he whispered. Definitely panic. "Um, I can't explain. Just a feeling," I answered carefully. I had a suspicion that my answers were going to be really important for both of us. "I thought I hid it better than that," Chris was looking almost ready to cry. This was not what I had intended. Aw, shit! "Let's just say I am good at seeing things. That I get a feel for people, even when they armor themselves. I don't think it is anything obvious. I just knew," I explained It must have made sense to him because I could see him pulling himself back together again. The panic was slowly leaving and in its place was a profound relief. I could almost figure out his actual thoughts as the expressions crossed his face. Finally, someone knew. I would only find out months later that his mother and stepfather were fundamentalist Christians. It explained his need to hide his attractions and bury any feelings from outside detection. And why my being so direct had thrown him into panic. If I figured it out, whom else could? It wasn't a denial of who and what he was. He accepted that part of himself. This was solely about repercussions with family if he was found out. He had younger brothers and sisters that he loved and still wanted in his life. If his parents found out, he was certain that he would be cut off and thrown out. That part turned out to be true a year later. But it was a while before I got all of this out of him. That night we just talked and got to know each other better. I liked him. And he liked me. We started hanging out almost every night after I got off work. We would prowl around the neighborhood on long walks, talking, sharing. Our spiritual views were similar though not exactly the same. Needless to say, he was neither fundamentalist nor Christian. Neither was I. We scaled Mount Rubidoux one night as we continued learning about each other. Mount is an overstatement, considering it is a very rocky hill at best. Dear Riverside has its pretentious pompousness. There came a night when we actually went a direction that we both probably saw coming. It was unplanned, but we both went with it without any hesitation when it arrived. Innocent spontaneity and laughter showed us the way. It all came down to a wrestling match on my bed. I don't recall exactly what prompted it, but I am pretty sure one of us was wisecracking and the other responded with a wrestling hold. Ordinarily, that is just fun and possibly leads to something extra when two guys like each other. What pushed this into a different realm was a hedonistic purchase I had made the month before. A royal blue satin comforter for my queen sized bed. I loved the texture against my skin. Anyway, we started wrestling, neither willing to submit to the other. Oomph! We both land on the floor with dual thuds. We start giggling like two five-year-olds. We scramble back up and continue wrestling. Thud, thud! Down we go again. Being a somewhat poor twenty-year-old, I had the box-spring and mattress on the floor instead of a bed frame. So, it wasn't really that far to the carpet. But with us trying so hard to get the upper hand, we kept sliding right off the end. Thud, thud! Over and over, giggling all the while, hands all over each other. And then hands very purposefully placed with gentle squeezes. Thud, thud! Finally, Melinda had enough. She pounded on her bedroom wall and yelled at us to either knock it off or take it to the living room so she could sleep. She had to work the next day and our racket was keeping her awake. I hollered our apologies in between giggles. I put a finger to Chris' lips to quiet him down. He promptly sucked my fingertip into his mouth. I gasped and pulled back as he grinned at me. Things were going a definite direction from this point on. And I was more than ready. So was he. I grabbed the bedspread with one hand and Chris with the other. He opened my bedroom door and then the hall door. I dragged us through and he shut the hall door. Both of us were grinning now. I could see a shine to his eyes, so clear and bright. I imagine mine were the same. I spread out the bedspread on the living room floor in the biggest open area next to the dining room. He tackled me but made sure I had a soft landing. Again we wrestled. My flexibility versus his innate strength. I ended up sitting on his chest with his arms pinned by my knees. My arms were bent back holding down his knees. He bucked and I slid. Now my crotch was squarely in front of his face. I changed tactics and went for his sides. He gasped and then laughed as I tickled him. Then he managed to throw me sideways. I hit the floor on my side with him swarming over me, pulling off my shirt. I returned the favor. Again we came together, grasping for holds on sweaty skin. A lot of sliding around the bedspread and on each other's skin happened. Both of us were plenty hard by then. Made for convenient handles as we tussled. I got his Dockers off without too much of a fight; popping the button and then yanking them clean off. I let go as they flung out at the end of my arm and they went flying onto the dining room table. Now he was only in white jockeys and white socks. Feeling a need to even the odds, Chris rose up and squashed me flat to the satin. He got my jeans open with his teeth and pulled the zipper down the same way. He kept a hand flat on my stomach the whole time. I didn't resist since I was out of breath and feeling the burning heat of his palm against my skin. He pulled my jeans off and they too landed on the table behind us. Then he peeled off my socks. I curled around to attack his feet, removing his. He landed on top of me, bear hugging me as I coiled around his torso. Our breath was coming in short gasps that blew against each other's skin. The heat between us was unlike anything I had experienced before. Hands roamed now, feeling skin and muscles, elbows and knees. The tone was turning toward sensual instead of raw power play. We turned each other loose and sat breathing heavily, staring into each other's eyes. I leaned forward and our lips met, lightly. His eyes stared back into mine as he pushed his lips to mine more firmly. He opened his mouth and his tongue pushed against me. I let him in. We tongue wrestled for a bit, exploring. My hands trailed against his chest downward over his stomach and to the elastic band of his underwear. The tips of my nails caught then pulled down and away. His hard shaft pushed free then. I broke the kiss to look down at the trophy of our wrestling bout. I pushed him gently flat on his back as I pulled his underwear from his legs. Now I finally got to see all of him. That question I had originally about if he was pale all over was finally answered. Yup, he was. But his shaft was pink, flushed with lots of trapped blood. The tip was red, engorged. And it curved upward toward his left. Not extreme, but definitely something of a scimitar shape. I let my hand trace its outline and it twitched at my touch. I glanced up and found his eyes closed and that crooked smile in place. I had never seen anyone with a curve like that before. It nestled in a patch of dark blond hair. His nuts were smooth with faint traces of hair. They were pretty large and hanging down between his spread legs. That made sense, since we were both burning hot from our wrestling moments before. It was like a daydream come alive. I just sat looking at him. Concave stomach that barely rose and fell with his breath. I tickled his ribs with a fingertip, just glorying in the feel of his skin. He twitched with that little number but kept his eyes closed. Now a new contest started. Let's see if I can get his eyes open. My hands wandered freely although I purposely left one particular area neglected and nearly untouched. I ghosted my hands over every muscle I could reach. I could make out the tiny lines of him clenching those peepers of his closed. He knew the game, it was on. Next I tried something else. Since hands didn't get much reaction, maybe a bit of tongue would. I began tracing swirling wavering lines up and down his body with the tip of my tongue. He shivered but retained control. I got especially creative on his suddenly firm nipples. Those twin buttons had definitely risen out of their camouflage to let me know that he was reacting despite his iron control over his expression. That smile stayed right where he put it so far. Ok, time to get more intense. I gave some suction to his skin. Carefully so as not to leave too many marks on that fine alabaster skin. I just knew he would pop up with entertaining hickeys at the drop of... never mind. So, I went for his fingers. They were long and narrow. His nails were cut very short. I sucked his little finger all the way into my mouth and then slowly pulled back. As I did, I let my teeth just barely graze the skin until I reached the nail bed. Then I applied just a bit more pressure top and bottom until I reached the tip. His whole body shuddered as I did the nail. Gotcha! I then did the exact same thing to his ring finger. But even slower. As slowly as I could manage. I could taste the salt. The tiny ridges of his finger pads rasped. I strengthened the suction I applied. Light at first, fierce by the time I hit the nail again. He was definitely breathing heavy now. I could see his free hand clenching the comforter now. I was delighted. I think he was too. But those stubborn eyes stayed shut. Fine. Onto the middle finger. Then the index, finally the thumb. By the time I reached the nail of his thumb, his eyes were watching me intently. I grinned as his thumb popped out of my mouth. Then I claimed my prize. His lips opened to mine and we kissed for I don't know how long. He kept his hands busy though. I shifted so that he could get my underwear off without too much bother. I moaned a little as his hand measured my investment in our contact. I am not as long as he is, perhaps a couple of finger widths shorter. He over flowed my hand by several inches when I held him at his base. While we kissed, he stroked me, gently squeezing as if testing my hardness. It felt like a steel rod to me but it was amazing having someone else do that instead of plain old everyday me. He rose up and turned around so that he was beside me. Now he controlled the game. Chris laid me back carefully and I let him. Fair was fair. His turn. I waited to see where he would go with things. Everywhere he touched me tingled and burned. I could almost feel the individual nerve endings jump. He started on my ear, nibbling at each of the three studs. It jolted through me like an electrical charge. Then he sucked on my ear lobe and finally just behind my ear. I was in bliss. The room practically spun. All the while his hands lightly massaged my muscles, skipping around here and there. Then came the shock. He trailed down my neck to the base of my throat and sucked hard. I spasmed hard, my back arching. It is impossible to describe exactly, but it felt as though he found a button that reached the center of me. An 'on' button that turned my entire body into a buzzing circuit of ecstasy. I know now that it was absolutely a g-spot for me. He was the first to find that one. I know my breath caught in my throat until he let up on it. And when that small eternity ended with him releasing my skin from his suction, my body sank back down. If I thought I was hard before, that proved me wrong. He had let go of me there too but I could still feel the after effect of his touch there also. Back and forth we went, exploring each other. All without really going after the obvious. For some reason we both decided to hold off on that as long as we could. So much to touch, taste, feel, learn about each other. And we were in no hurry. On and on, without the urgent need to reach orgasm. It seemed so natural at the time. It awes me a bit now. I do know that this entire time neither of us said a word. There didn't seem to be any need. At some point, we mutually decided it was time to up the ante to the next logical, emotional, sensual level. I happened to be facing his feet when he slowly pushed me onto my back. He shifted so he was over me. That put things in an interesting position. We then did what came naturally. It didn't take much for me to lift my head slightly and lick the end of him. I could feel his thighs shudder against my shoulders. I felt him lift me up so I wasn't pointing at my bellybutton any more as he gave as good as he got. We dove onto each other at the same time. Warm, wet suction engulfed me at the same time I tried to swallow him whole. He tasted of sweat and very faintly of soap. The skin against my tongue was silky soft encasing solid firmness. As I sucked him in, I let my tongue stroke the topside of him. I almost gagged since he reached the back of my mouth easily and I was tilted slightly off kilter. I fought the reflex and got him all the way in. His balls were pretty well balanced on my nose at that point. I held him there and suctioned for all I was worth for a few seconds. Then I pulled back halfway. My hands were bracing his hips, helping him keep his balance. I could feel his hipbones against my fingers. His stomach would just brush mine as he pretty much did pushups over me, his hands on either side of my hips too. His lips covered his teeth carefully, and he liked to come up all the way so that the very tip of me was pressed against his lips. Then he would plunge back down, letting me force them apart easily, caressing as he slid down to the base. Flash after flash of sensation crashed through me, from that central contact point all the way to my overloaded brain. Wave after wave crashed through me. Yet we still both took our time without any sense of urgency. There was no hurry. But we were absolutely building on each thing that came before. I finally had to take a breather and reluctantly let him out of my mouth. Instead, I licked at his nuts, washing them with my tongue. Gently, I sucked in one of his testicles and held it lightly, sucking. Releasing it, I did the neglected one. Over and over. His hair barely tickled the insides of my cheeks each time. He got creative too. Chris shifted forward so that his knees were just in front of my armpits. With the better balance this gave him, he didn't need his hands so much for that. Chris took my hips in his hands and lifted me upward. I obliged by curling my stomach in as I bent at the waist. This pretty much left my backend wide open to him. He wasted no time in attacking with his tongue. His tongue traced a path along my perineum straight down. I gasped as his tongue circles hypersensitive skin. I could practically feel his individual taste bubs against that small inward turn of skin. I did my best to stay relaxed as he pressed his tongue in. My head thumped onto the floor as all new sensations crashed into my nervous system. It was truly an entirely new experience for me. No one had ever rimmed me before. I loved it. And he was good at it. Things had finally reached a height of physical need now. He lowered my hips back down and sucked my erection back into his molten mouth. I wasn't sure I could hold on for long now. I began pushing away from him. There was still something else I wanted to do before we hit that ultimate endpoint. He resisted letting go of me, nearly growling his displeasure. The vibration that caused was not helping the matter in my book. I pushed against his body with my hands more insistently. With a sigh, he finally released me from the pleasure/pain of his mouth. I laid him flat on his back. At some point I had remembered to bring in the lube. Probably during one of our brief heavy breathing rest sessions between onslaughts of each other's senses. Whatever, it was there when I wanted it. He grinned at me and beat me to it as I reached for it. I grinned back at him as I moved myself over his hips with my knees to either side of him. I heard the rather loud pop of the bottle top as he lifted the lid. Then the faint gurgle as he tilted the bottle. I almost jumped when his fingers touched my tender backside. A gentle but firm pressure came from one of his long fingers. I let him in. Slowly he pushed upward and in. After a second of resistance, it slid in. He was careful but steady. I was surprised when the rest of his hand reached my backside firmly. I almost moaned when he began wiggling that damn finger. He certainly had a goal. My erection jerked when he found it too. The jolt of electricity should have vaporized my brain. It was even more intense as he gently rubbed that spot, teasing it and keeping the pressure steady. My shaft was dancing over his stomach without me touching myself. I almost protested as his finger pulled back. Then it became two fingers. I could feel myself stretching a bit. Right back to the magic button he went. One finger was good, two was sublime. I lost all track of time somehow. All I knew was that he pulled out and something else starting knocking at the back door. He was not exactly small diameterwise, but I felt like giving it a try. I was as ready as I was likely to ever be. It also wasn't as if I had a whole lot of experience at this either. Despite what people might think, I could count on one hand the number of people I had had sex with before Chris. I wasn't constantly on the prowl looking for a hook-up. And since I had met Chris, I had stopped looking at anyone else at all. Funny, that. He was all I wanted. How odd... He popped through the minimal resistance and I heard the faint grunt of his breath when it happened. Mine was definitely missing as I held mine waiting for a burst of dim pain to subside. It did rather quickly as he held very still waiting for me to let go of my death grip on him. I took a deep long breath and let it back out much more slowly than I had pulled it in. By the time the air was back outside, the pain was mostly gone. I nodded and he pushed again. This time he slid upward without any resistance. And poked me in that spot again. My knees went weak and my hard-on lifted and smacked down on his tight stomach audibly. I managed to open my eyes to look at his face. That is when I realized he was doing just fine for a first timer. Intense wonder was all over his face. His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly open. Figuring this out really put a new spin on things from my perspective. I wanted to blow his mind apart with sensual overload. I was his first. He bottomed out since I could feel his hair grinding against my backside now. All of him was in me. I was starting to really feel good myself. Then he twisted his hips side to side and I know I moaned for sure this time. I lifted as he began pulling back. Then I pushed down as he pushed up. The impact jarred me and the room flashed neon for a second. It wasn't long before we had a nice rhythm going. His hands cupped my backside, lifting and pulling in time with me. Our breathing was now coming is sharp fast gasps. Every so often he did that side-to-side twist and I would moan some more. One of his hands started stroking me. He was going to bring me over the edge really fast at the rate he was going. All of that stimulation was making me drip like a faucet on his stomach. I watched in detached fascination as it pooled in his innie bellybutton. I leaned forward to kiss him as he continued thrusting steadily into me. The angle change made all sorts of new things happen with my nerve endings. Our tongues tangled as he jammed up into me and held it there. I could feel his shaft expanding even wider and the other end twitching. I knew what was happening and I was joyfully thrilled. His eyes looked back into mine above our locked lips. The wonder in them was worth anything. I pulled away and leaned back again until I was upright. That pushed him even further into me. I ground my hips against his and it was his turn to moan. When the trembling of his legs finally subsided, I carefully lifted up and then promptly fell over on my side next to him. He lay still for a moment, basking in the after glow of his orgasm before he rolled onto his side to kiss me again. I was still in a state and he noticed immediately. He latched onto me and rolled back onto his back, pulling me onto of him. This time his legs spread to either side of mine. I looked a question into his eyes and he grinned. Nodding, he handed me the lube. I was more than willing at this point. I followed his earlier lead and carefully worked my middle finger into him. Just as he had, I found the right spot as quickly as possible. His eyes flew wide. It was only then that I realized his erection had never gone down. It certainly jumped when I rubbed his prostate. While he had the advantage as far as length, I was a bit bigger around than he was. I went to three fingers instead of just two. When I could feel that he was not tightening on them, I shifted so I was between his legs. I lifted his legs so his ankles rested next to my neck before leaning in over him. The tip of me brushed right on target and I pushed in. I froze just as I got past his outer muscles as he clenched. Eventually he relaxed and I pushed in a little more. This time he didn't clench for very long. The next push and he didn't at all. One more and I was to the hilt. Putting my arms down to the floor outside of his thighs, I leaned forward as my hips pulled back. His eyes were wide and watching mine. Just before I would have pulled all the way out, I pushed all the way back in slowly. I did this several times, waiting for him to be completely relaxed and ready for more. When he gripped his hard-on and began stroking, I knew. That is when I sped things up. Pulling maybe half way out, I pushed back fast. Slow on the out, fast on the in. Over and over. My thighs slammed against his backside repeatedly. His free hand wandered over my chest and stomach, sending shivers through me. All of the time, he watched my face, a smile on his lips. I changed things up and his back arched. Now I was hitting the target on each thrust in and out again. Pressure began to build and slowly climb toward climax for me. Just before I had my orgasm, he had his second. He clamped down on me with such intensity I almost lost control until I fought it back. Strand after strand of milky fluid erupted from him. The first hit his chin. The next landed in a line on his chest. The following one on his sternum and the final one squarely in his belly button. A few final drops oozed out over his clenched fingers. Then I slammed into him a final time and lost myself in mine. He was still clamped down on me, and that was my entire length. Bright lights burst and flared before my eyes and I felt my energy draining into him. My knees went weak and my arms trembled. Finally, I came back to myself. He was still watching my face with that lop-sided smile of his. I pulled out slowly and lowered myself onto him. With a finger, I wiped the fluid from his chin. The rest was squished between us. I licked part of it off and put the rest to his lips. He licked at the salty stuff and then sucked in my whole finger. I could feel his softening erection twitch against mine. I hadn't gone down at all. We seemed well matched in that department. We kissed, leisurely and happy. Then he rolled to the side so my weight wasn't crushing him down. Our hands wandered freely, stroking and massaging. We must have gone at it at least twice more each. Different positions brought different sensations. Different angles of penetration, different rhythms and intensities. By the time exhaustion finally did us in, we could barely move at all. Only then did we notice the sun was coming up. With a titanic effort, we gathered up our clothes and the comforter. Back in my room we collapsed on the bed, hauled the blanket over us and slept the sleep of the sated. On hindsight, we went at it for almost 10 hours. He matched me blow for blow, act for act. Very few have ever done that. It was different another way too. I was in love with him before we ever did anything physical. That was new for me. It changed the act of sex from something merely nice into something nearly divine in nature. We were more concerned about making the other feel good than ourselves. This is what the big deal was about, finding a relationship. Now it made perfect sense to me. All it took was genuine love. First love lives on and on. Though I eventually lost Chris to his own fears about his parents, I love him still. It turns out he was bisexual. I found that out the hard way. Funny enough, that didn't bother me. Her either. It did him though. He felt he had to choose between us. In the end, he chose neither. I sometimes hope that he found peace within himself and someone he could love without that lingering emotional despair. I've long forgiven him for leaving. I'll never be with him again and I am ok with that. Another love has found me. It is good, different, but I am ok with that too. Memory of this first night together is still clear as day for me. It is one of those things I will always be grateful for. In all of my writing, I know that he has influenced me. It is a gift I cherish. Lucky me.