A first time, for everything, and I mean everything.

Aaaahhh… the thrill of new sex!  It’s the best part about being single, or a langa, isn’t it?  The lovely possibility of another first time.  The first time you kiss someone new, the first time you touch her soft skin, the first time you rub your cheek against his stubble, the first time you see them half naked, the first time you see them all naked, the first time you touch…

You know where I’m going, don’t you?  As always, fragile love-making souls leave now, lest you get offended by the word sex, or member.  No wait, don’t go, this one will be quite mild as far as sewer tales go.  Or not, I’ll warn you if it’s about to go south, further south that is…  My people, it would appear that in my foolishness I have managed to make a name for myself, such as it is, as the teller of all tales sewer, and any attempt to stray from this role is met with some (vocal) discontent.  Fair enough, there are worse tags to be stuck with, and I do like to talk about sex, but know that even as I do this, I only do it so I can be left to my own devices the rest of the month.  What I’m saying is, if I give you what you want, then you will have to let me do what I want, bila complaints, deal?  I’m talking to you Bwana Mahe, a.k.a. the newly crowned Mayor of The Sewer (crowned purely on account of shards of ice and what not, see ON THE DOWN LOW…), a.k.a. he that demands a shout out.  Moving swiftly along.

Don’t it feel good babe, don’t it feel good baby,
Cause, it’s so brand new babe, it’s so brand new baby…

The song is ‘Our First Time’ by Bruno Mars, off his debut album ‘Doo-Wops & Hooligans’.  Now I know that most people my age or thereabouts are frowning at the screen, wondering why I’ve picked a song by the guy who sang that most infuriating anthem from a few years back, ‘Grenade’ (incidentally, if one more girl sings this song at Karaoke, I will burn the damn bar down, I’m not kidding…), but contain your scepticism for a couple of minutes and google this album, its well worth the trouble.  This young man has talent, real talent, hopping from R&B to pop to classic rock to (allegedly) reggae.  That’s right, he’s a bit of a chameleon, which is probably why I have love for the man, that and he claims inspiration from both Michael Jackson and Bob Marley, a very good thing in my book.  In keeping with my (not so) unspoken theme of Reggae for sunny days, today’s track is a simple tune that sounds like the love child of MJ’s ‘Rock With You’ and Aaliyah’s ‘Rock The Boat’, its sexy yet suitably chaste.  If this track doesn’t get you smiling as you sway gently, then I can’t help you.

And now here we are, in this big old empty room,
Staring at each other, who’s gonna make the first move?
Been doing our thing for a minute,
And now both our hearts are in it,
The only place to go, is all the way…

You meet a new man, and he looks like a good man, tasty too.  You begin the dance, the ‘I just want to get to know you better’ dance, all the while surreptitiously checking out his ass, his sexy smile (read very kissable lips), his (bedroom) eyes, his broad shoulders and his long fingers, the ones you cant wait to feel on your neck, back, other…  I’ve argued before that sexual attraction is the underlying factor to all male/female relationships and nowhere is this more evident than when you’re doing the seduction dance.  As much as I may be gripped by your theories on global warming, kind sir, I’m busy thinking about how much I want you to warm up my globe(s).  What?  You’re surprised to hear that women think like men when it comes to sexual attraction?  Don’t be, if you’ve listened to a bunch of women during a girls’ night out, you know that women are not only as crude as men, sometimes we’re worse.  While you’re sitting there trying to woo me with your big…intellect, I’m sitting there thinking of the many ways I plan to use and abuse said…intellect.  What you don’t realise is that once a woman has decided to shag you, irrespective of how she got there, that’s it.  The rest of the time she’s sitting there fantasising about what’s going to happen next.  That’s right, the dazed look she’s giving you is not boredom, its lust.  That is, unless you’re really boring, in which case I can’t help you.

Just go with it, go with it, go with it (and I will go real),
Slow with it, slow with it,
It’s our first time…

There’s just something about that first time you shag someone, all your synapses are firing, your senses are heightened, every thing smells, tastes and feels brand new, even you.  It’s a crisp clear dawn by the sea, the first sip of an ice cold coke on a blazing hot day, the first bite of medium rare steak smothered in pepper sauce, the first lick of a soft serve cone (vanilla with chocolate sprinkles), its your first drag on a Cuban, the first whiff of a 18 year old (malt, not person…or maybe person, depending…).  Folks, the first time with someone new is the shit!  That rush you get is the best thing since, well, since the last rush you got, no?  If you’re truly attracted to someone, and I mean genuinely turned on, mind and body, then despite your opening night nerves and the subsequent, umm, malfunctions, that sometimes pop up as a result of your excitement, that first time is usually pretty fucking amazing.  In retrospect, it isn’t the best sex you have ever had, but it will feel like it at the time, if for no other reason than because at that moment there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.  There’s also the fact that you’re so high on dopamine, and other, possibly, you’re out of your mind, plus you’ve probably been waiting for the moment for a bloody while, no?

And just so we’re clear, a while can be used to refer to only a few hours, in the case of the idiot funga devotees, who just for the record should have been swayed by my brilliant eloquence by now, no?  No?  Useless buggers…  Don’t worry, I’m not going to get into the sticky politics of when to shag someone for the first time, that’s a discussion better suited to more serious, and perhaps less sewer, blogs, and not mine.  Let’s assume that you have taken what you consider a suitable amount of time to come to the decision to do it, be it one hour, or one year, or your entire life, whatever rocks your boat, or doesn’t, as the case may be.

Point is, you’re now staring at the object of your desire, anticipation at record highs, mentally speculating on what he or she looks like naked, what their skin will feel like, what their lips will taste like, what their other lips will taste like, whether they lean to the left or the right…  What?  Don’t look at me like that, I know you think about these things too.  You don’t?  Then what the hell are you thinking about?  That anticipation is not perverted thinking, it’s a huge part of the seduction process, it’s your mind preparing you for what’s to come.  Think of it as the lowering of your inhibition drawbridge, welcoming the invader to storm your castle and penetrate your inner sanctum…

Slight detour, I’ve been reading fantasy fiction for the past month, so there will be many more random medieval metaphors coming your way.  See, just when you thought the sewer couldn’t get any worse, I found the dungeon.  I know, it’s brilliant.  Detour over.

Fantasising about the first time you’ll shag this someone new is simply your mind trying to wrap itself round a new idea, and it’s the first step to working up the balls you need to get naked with a stranger, and by stranger I mean someone who has never seen you naked, not complete stranger as in a funga/fungee, unless that’s how you do (say it with me…useless buggers).

Is that alright?
Is that okay?
Girl, no need to be nervous,
Cause I got you all night,
Don’t you worry bout a thing…

See the thing is, despite the way this scene is depicted in movies and songs as some laid back, easy session of passionate ‘love-making’, its always somewhat nerve-wracking to bare yourself to another, literally and figuratively.  Either you’re wondering how you look, or how you smell, if you’re skinny enough, or big enough, or if he can notice your hairy legs, or hairy other(s), such like peculiar nonsense that’s, for the most part (I hope), only in your fretting head.  On the one hand you can’t wait to get busy, but on the other hand you’re trying to figure out how to get busy and make a good impression at the same time, because we all want to make a good impression.  No really, how else will you get laid again if you don’t?  Come now, lets be honest with each other, only marriage, and maybe love, can survive crap sex on the first night, si that’s why they make you wait?  Now some will choose to steady their nerves with booze and other intoxicants, believing that being slightly high makes it easier to get down.  Does it really?  You tell me.  If I’ve engaged in such activity in the past, I cannot recall, conveniently.  Perhaps that’s another good reason to be (slightly?) high, selective amnesia, just in case it doesn’t work out as planned, no?  No?  Ah well…  Others choose a more gung-ho approach, treating it like a fight they have to win, at all costs.  These are the buggers who are looking for a TKO in the first round, so they come at you with all they’ve got, because they figure the best defence is a good offence, but what they’re really doing is keeping the focus off them and entirely on you.  Now that I think about it, that’s not such a bad thing is it?  I’m just saying…

However you choose to handle your opening night issues, keep in mind that the other party in your bed is just as nervous as you are, so give yourself a break and relax, what’s the worst that can happen?  Don’t think too hard about that.  And for crying out loud, don’t forget to laugh at the occasional fumbles that tend to happen when you haven’t figured out someone else’s rhythm yet.  You just remembered a fumble from your past, and smiled, didn’t you?  That’s what I’m talking about.  At the end of the day, all that matters is that you aim to be GGG (Science proves it: Dan Savage is right), if you do then all will be well.  Well, well enough.

The point to all this?  None whatsoever.  No really, I’m done trying to convince you to enjoy your sex, whatever sex it is you may be having, or not, depending.  This year we’re going to have fun in the sewer, we are going to roll around in the muck and revel in the filth, because if you can’t fuck around here, where the hell else are you going to do it, no?

Don’t it feel good babe, don’t it feel good baby,
Cause, it’s so brand new babe, it’s so brand new baby…