It was in our house near the highway, with all the lights on and a chair strategically blocking my door to prevent anyone from coming in.
No one ever told me what an orgasm felt like. I guess no one ever does. Just: “It feels really good.” When I had one for the first time in that room, I expected a whole new feeling to take me over. To experience something I’d never experienced before—like smelling purple or tasting crosshatch.
Instead, I discovered an orgasm was only a deepening of a familiar sensation. I remember immediately comparing it to the most satisfying of yawns. A stretch that stretches you all the way out, almost skinning you. A release of profound tension. After I finished, I rolled over and stared at my fingers. And took a sniff. Huh. Me.
