The first time it was, quite frankly, awkward. We were shy and tentative, fumbling around like a couple of teenagers on a first date.
Josh knocked on my door about thirty seconds after I had dropped my key on the desk. I held the door open for him, closed it, and bolted it. I turned around to find him standing about three feet away from me, with that slightly sheepish look he gets when he doesn't know what to do next. We stood there, not moving, for a good long minute, until he suddenly twitched his hand as if he wanted to take mine, then closed the gap between us and kissed me.
That was the best part of the whole experience. It just felt right: standing together, arms around each other. He's just the right height for me: taller, but not so tall that I have to really stretch or he has to really bend when we kiss.
Right. Anyway, there was kissing. And the kissing was good. Then we moved to the bed, and things just went downhill, in that "do you want me to—I mean, should I? Oh, there" kind of way. Josh got stuck in his shirt, then almost broke the zipper on my pants, and then had to be reminded to take his socks off. Honestly, the man is such a yutz.
I guess we just didn't find our rhythm. Our lovemaking, if it can be called that, was awkward. We bumped elbows, fumbled, and got mixed up. He finished before I did, not surprisingly, and let's just say that my finish didn't exactly top the charts.
Then afterwards, we lay there not talking at opposite ends of that gigantic bed. I finally left, with the intention of returning with coffee so we could talk, but everyone else seemed to have finished their assignations as well, and decided to make sure we wouldn't be able to resume ours. Damn them all.
You know what is different about this from other relationships? We have more going for us than one occurrence of awkward sex. It's been what, 48 hours since our relationship was "professionally platonic," and so we're still figuring things out. We've been in denial for so long that we didn't know how to finally leap across that line. So instead, we closed our eyes before leaping across, and haven't yet opened them. You try it, and you'll know what I mean.
Ok, don't try it. But if you're ever there, you'll know what I mean.
So even though the sex was bad the first time, I went back for more. This isn't just a one night stand (One day stand? Who the hell knows anymore, I'm on campaign time). This has potential.
And you know what happened? The sex got better. We successfully managed to remove all our articles of clothing, and we even remembered that foreplay is generally considered a good thing. We took the time to explore a little, and I'll tell you I like what I found. Judging by his reaction, I'll say Josh agrees with me.
We stopped being shy, and started having fun. No, it wasn't mind-blowing. It wasn't something out of some romance novel or trashy porn. It was what it was: me and Josh, together, trying to figure out how to make this work. After all, we're only human.
And it was good.