My First Time
That night I couldn’t sleep; I had an appointment. Contrary to my habit of always running late, I was ready well before the hour. Hot shower, clean, spotless clothes. Awake eyes. Something told me everything would go well, yet I was nervous, too many things had been said…
I arrived to pick her up exactly on time, not a minute more, not a minute less. There she was, with her white, silky skin. Still. Trembling. Waiting for me. The scent of the countryside and damp grass filled the air. I could feel her warmth from a distance. My hands were sweaty despite the mid-morning chill. I drove her in my car. I turned off the radio; only my ragged breathing could be heard. I said nothing. Neither did she. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. Five minutes. Endless.
I opened the door slowly, ceremoniously. The warmth of the fire greeted us at the entrance. I had prepared everything the day before. Everything had to be perfect and in its place. Nothing could go wrong. That desire had been building inside me for so long it left me dazed.
I settled her in. Nervous cold ran through me. I turned on the stove. Thirty degrees would be enough to start. Perhaps too much, perhaps too little. I waited patiently. I could sense her gentle warmth. My dry mouth barely moved. Some water for me, something for her too. I knew I had to wait for the right moment. If I rushed, everything would be ruined. I had read so much about this moment. Nothing came close to what I felt. I closed my eyes and let myself be carried away.
I approached slowly, with respect for what I loved. I felt her skin now firm and warm. She gave off a light, clean, animal scent. She enveloped me, awakening an instinct I had never known. I ran my hands over her, caressing her. I kept my eyes closed, multiplying her in my mind. Piece by piece she yielded. Soft, velvety, and moist. I could feel her changing shape between my fingers. I couldn’t stop moving my hands. They played, empowered, knowing they were doing the right thing. There was no rush, only calm and soul.
A few lines from Angel González came to mind:
Si yo fuese Dios
y tuviese el secreto,
haría
un ser exacto a ti;
lo probaría
(a la manera de los panaderos
cuando prueban el pan, es decir:
con la boca)
Trembling between my fingers. My mouth. Her sweet, warm taste passed through me, thrilling me to the core. Something inside me changed forever. She too. An unstoppable passion flowed from me. From her, aromas and flavours that dull the other senses.
We took shape, sprinkled life with salt, blossomed free. Since then, I can’t imagine life without her. That, as I have told, was the first time I made cheese. Those fears, that desire, that passion, still remain today. I hope they do for a long time.