I've always been fascinated by the concepts of "firsts," especially in regards to sex. We hold them close to us, remember them with almost photographic clarity, cherishing them as we move through our seconds and thirds and fourths and so on. There's a good reason for it, too—doing something for the first time with someone else is incredibly intimate, a particularly bonding experience if it's your partner's first time to try it, too. The memories are colorful, vivid, and explosive, a veritable mashup of neurotransmitters comparable only to the high you experience on drugs. But much like many other things in life, many of us are complacent to have a few firsts and resign ourselves to lives of repetition and complacency. Perhaps it's because I've always had an adventurous and enthusiastic spirit and perhaps it's because I insist we are far more creative than that, but I think that notion is a fallacy; the result of poor critical thinking.
Let me explain: There is an almost inexhaustible number of sex acts you can participate in, a virtually endless bucket of potential fantasies you can craft and conjure. Your desire to engage in any of these is sometimes singular, dependent on your own tastes. But more often than not, it's the chemical reaction of two unique people, an explosion that's impossible to replicate with anyone else. It's why every sexual pairing is so drastically different—mesh two erotic palates together, and you have an entirely new spectrum of possibilities before you. And if this is true, doesn't it follow that with each partner you have, you'll constantly be having "firsts," so long as your mind is open and your appetite whet?
It's how I've experienced my personal sex life, which didn't take off until I was nearly 21 and has been nothing if not passionate and exploratory since. I can count all my partners on my two hands, but I cannot count my firsts on them. There have been many—losing my virginity, the first, a hilarious and unexpected experience that left me feeling like I could take over the world in the coming months. There was my first blow job, which came afterwards—a terrifying experience that was ultimately far more rewarding than I thought it would be.
I can also vividly remember the first time sex meant something to me with a significant other, still a while after that, and how it felt to wake up in the morning with someone's arms wrapped around me and his face buried in my hair. And then later on, the first time I had such a transparent and open sexual relationship that I divulged every fantasy my inexperienced mind could come up with to my partner (and vice versa). We tried several of them: Pulling out my phone while we switched positions, for one, capturing the footage in a short clip of terrible but incredibly hot quality. I remember watching the video afterward, seeing my body from a new angle and learning to love and appreciate it with time.
There was the time, still after that, a partner confessed a fantasy he was ashamed of having to me, and I still think about how it felt to share that secret. Soon after, we agreed to try our first threesome together, though we never got the chance to do it. Each and every time I tried a new position, nervous I wouldn't find the rhythm. The alarming but surprisingly pleasant feeling the first time someone got near a new area with a finger, the subsequent sensation painful but in an oddly gratifying way. A first time for experimenting with flavored lube, trying as many flavors as I could, the spontaneity allotted by sex without a condom something I'd never experienced before like that, invigorating and impossible to satiate.
All of these were firsts for me, some of which were first for the men I've chosen to sleep with, too. I have a million new firsts ahead of me, a million colorful, blistering memories that I'll reflect on when I'm lying awake at night, and they'll all mean as much to me as the ones I've already had. Intimacy, after all, doesn't cheapen with age or experience. In fact, I'd argue the opposite—if you keep having firsts, you keep growing and challenging yourself. Whether I come to experience two more partners or 20 in my lifetime, each one will touch me in a way that no one else has, creating a kaleidoscope of moments that is completely mine.
I've had many firsts, and if I do this right, I'll have many, many more.