The first time we officially met was at a college party. The moment I saw him, though, I realized I knew him. We had gone to the same high school. He was 3 years older than me. I played volleyball with his girlfriend and I remember thinking that he could do much better than her. He was Italian. He drove a classic car, had slicked back hair, and played soccer. He had these warm, friendly brown eyes that seemed to forge an instant connection with whomever he was looking at. And finally, his eyes were on me.
The house we were at was a notorious party house. I remember feeling awful for the neighbors. My best friend and I loved going to these parties, and I did what I had to do to let my mom out of the house so we could go. I was a bit of a wild girl. I had had my share of sexual experiences, but hadn't gone all the way yet. My friend and I were sitting on the couch drinking Malibu Rum and Sprite, talking to some random guy about what the sexist part of a guy's body is. We were trying to explain to them that it was the V-shaped hip bones that stick out above a nice pair of boxer briefs. It was at that moment that he walked by.
He looked at me and said "is this what you're talking about?" He lifted up his shift so I could see his caramel brown, extremely chiseled abs. His body was perfectly defined all the way down to the V-shaped hipbones. I screamed "yes!" and then actually looked at his face. I said "I know you. We went to high school together." I never expected him to remember me. I was a sophomore when he was a senior . . . why would he? But he did.
We spent the rest of the night talking and drinking. He asked if I wanted to go upstairs. I didn't hesitate. He asked his friend if he could use his room. It was the only place in the house secluded at all from the noise and commotion of the party downstairs. The room was cluttered. He threw piles of clothes from atop the bed and straightened out the comforter before inviting me to sit. He sat down next to me and looked into my eyes. He said coyly "hi." When he smiled, he got these little wrinkles around his eyes that made him look much older and wiser than he was.
He kissed me. His lips were soft and full. And he let out little moans that let me know that he was digging this as much as I was. He gently pushed me back onto the bed. He laid next to me, pushing his body against mine. I ran my hands down slowly from the back of his head, down his neck, across his back, and down to the hem of his shirt. I pulled up on it, wanting to see more of his chest and stomach. He let me help him out of his shirt and I threw it across the room as if he wouldn't need it ever again.
I ran my hands across his back. It was smooth and tight, with protrusions of exquisitely formed muscles creating fun hills and valleys for my fingertips to play on. He kissed my neck. Not in the slobbery, too-much-tongue way, but little kisses mixed in with nibbles, and just the right amount of sucking. I turned my head allowing him greater access to my neck. As I did that, his hand slid down my chest to the top of my breast. He squeezed and I could feel him getting harder as he let out another soft moan.
I pushed him off of me, trying my hand at being domineering. I sat up and pulled my shirt up over my head. He smiled and let out a little laugh because of the unexpected control I took of the situation. I reached behind my back and unclasped my bra, pulling it forward and off. I laid back down and his mouth moved ferociously to my nipple. He sucked and bit while using his hand to massage the breast, squeezing it, trying to get more and more of it into his mouth.
