There's something about each of my first times that are emblazoned on my memory, a lustful searing that I want desperately to get back to, but can't. The way Kara, my first ever, arched her back when she stripped off her shirt while I lay propped up on my elbows, erect and throbbing before we fucked. The way that Alexis and I struggled out of our clothes together, the excited feeling of our flesh touching. The way that Beth and I watched porn with another couple on a dare, her donning glasses, interested, and finally whispered to me in the dark, "I want you to take me like that." Tammy's playful green eyes, smiling, holding my stiff cock before taking it deeply into her mouth. The pleasured look on Kathy's face as I entered her for the first time, the ghost of a smile on her face. Deanne's breathy stuttering moans, like she was cold and seeking the warmth between our bodies as we slowly fucked and kissed. The way that Julie gripped my arms when she came, the pinching pain of desire that came with it.
It isn't that these things go away after the first time. Many of them become the things you look for, even in the habitual coupling that comes with long relationships. But what you are looking for is that thing that was there the first time. The excitement, the feral fear, that carnal thing that claws its way through you, cutting electric and loosed down the wanton trails of the past.
What do you think?