Bohemian Rhapsody

You're My Best Friend (Part 10)

"John? No, of course not," you spoke, playing it off cooly. But there was some doubt in your mind. As if you weren't opposed to the idea. Maybe it came from that thought of possibility. Of him loving you. Or maybe not. "But how was it?" you pressed.

"I was about 17. 'Late' as most would say." Then she looked at you, realizing the circumstances. "But there's nothing wrong with that. There's no pressure or anything to do it. It's okay to wait-"

"Annie!" you objectified, trying to steer the conversation away from a pity party.

"Right. I was about 17," she repeated. "He was 17. We went to the same school. Happened at his friend's house. There was a party going on. Kind of a drag. We went upstairs to his friend's room and things just happened from there."

"Were you nervous?"

"Yeah. My legs felt weak before anything even happened. He hadn't even touched me yet and I thought I was going to collapse from the nerves. He wasn't. Said he had done it with a girl before me."

"Did it hurt?" you shyly asked. "Because I heard it does."

"For most women it does-"

"But for you?"

"Yeah," Annie shyly responded, this time avoiding your gaze. "Kind of like a weird pressure at first. Felt nice after a bit, though. After a few minutes. I got used to the feeling and I just let myself enjoy it from there. But then he started being rough and sloppy and was saying weird things to me that was supposed to be dirty talk but we were only 17 so he wasn't very good at it. So I started laughing," she confessed, a giggle trickling out from her words.

"You started laughing?" you smiled, trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, I started laughing. He got embarrassed and angry and pulled away from me, neither of us finished. He never talked to me again after that. But I didn't care. I wish I could tell you my first experience was amazing, but it wasn't. It usually isn't," she spoke, her eyes meeting with yours again. And she saw you gnawing on your lips in concern.

"Usually," she repeated. "Could be different for you. Especially if it's with Roger," she winked.

There was a few seconds of pause before you ended the silence.

"What does it feel like? To do it with someone you love... if you have," You were intrigued at her answers, all your focus on her as if she was an idol.

"Detail?" she asked.

"Detail," you confirmed.

"One of the best feelings ever," she admitted. "Skin against skin, your hand pulling his hair one second then gripping the sheets the next, his grip on you tightening, your heels digging into the bed sheet from your shaky legs that can't keep still, the sound of breathless moans being exchanged from your throat and his, sweat tainting your chests, his thrusts either quickening or slowing - whatever either of you needs to get there. And when you do, you can feel it in the pit of your stomach," she said, gliding her fingers to land inches down her belly button, a light breath of air escaping her lips at the thought. "And your toes sometimes curl at the feeling while your back arches up, your head falling into the pillow. Both eyes closed. Or open. It's better when they are open. You can see them for all that they are. You can see the love. And sometimes he'll say your name. Or you'll say his. But when he says your name, you could crumble in that moment. It's a beautiful sound because you know the only way he's so vulnerable like that is because of you," she spoke. "You have him completely wrapped around your finger, or maybe it's the fact that you have your legs wrapped around his waist..." she chuckled. "And when you call out his name, it's a praise to him. And that gets him going. That's what it was like with Brian... so it's not always someone you love. But someone you care for in a loving way. It feels like that."