After my ex and I broke up, I rediscovered the joys and stresses of first times.
I met a guy at the end of last year and it was pretty obvious that, at some point, it was going to lead into sex. We agreed to meet after the Christmas holidays and apriori, I was pretty confident and optimistic that this was going to be easy and mostly fun.
Miguel was 29 years old, Venezuelan by origin, he had come from Madrid to work in the middle of the European institutions. Over a gin and tonic, we discussed rather banal things. Banal but it allowed us to get to know each other better and to feel confident. It was also an opportunity to admire him, he was so beautiful and attractive.
We did not wait for the glasses to be empty, we had a mutual desire at the time. We quickly went to his room the beginning was pretty easy,however i had not imagined that I was full of prejudices, formatted according to a model of a very (too?) classic, heteronormative relationship. I thought I had to be the man with a capital M who is virile and must perform at penetration.
It left me disarmed because of course, in reality the pleasure between two people does not just depend on penetration but on the time you put into it to feel good with your partner, whether it’s for a night or for a longer commitment.
I never saw Miguel again except on social media. In his own way he helped me to take a personal step. I’m glad that I got to experience this renewed, deconstructed perspective, a second first time of sorts.
