It was raining hard outside. Soft music playing in the background. They were laying on a tiny twin mattress in a cluttered loft. He kissed her passionately. A feeling came over her. A carefree feeling. She felt entirely comfortable next to him. Passionate kisses were planted on her lips and followed down her neck, then her chest. Her breathing grew louder. This overwhelming feeling possessed her entire body. She was ready. It was her first time, but she knew she was ready. He set out to get condoms. He came back with a brown paper bag and a hand written letter, his face blushing with nervousness. This was his first time too, yet he was ready. He gave her the note and sat beside her, rubbing her back as she read the sweetest of words. He asked for her permission, assured her this was going to happen entirely out of love for her, he told her if she wasn’t ready, he’d wait. She finished reading the letter and kissed him, this time even more passionate than before. Their clothes scattered across the floor, their hearts beating, the music playing, everything was perfect. They lost it to each other. And it was great. It was the perfect first time. A moment she will never forget. A moment she will never regret. Nothing has felt as romantic as her first time. Nothing compares to that night.
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