Comfy.

Alan and I are becoming so... comfortable. The way we talk to each other, the way we touch each other--it's not all that affectionate in the "honey sweetie" and cuddles sense, but it's becoming--automatic. Not in the bad "rut" way, but in the good and (to me) novel way of just not being awkward, not constantly needing permission/clarification/reassurance. We're able to be quiet together without it being weird.

The last time we had sex we didn't have to talk about it. In the past there's always been some level of "um, so do you wanna...?", a few moments of "is this working for you...?" and such. Last night we just touched each other and kissed and lay down and fucked. Or... ergh... I hate to say it... "made love." It's hard to call something so slow and quiet and intimate fucking. When you're staring into each other's eyes, stroking each other's faces, kissing and caressing the whole time, is it "fucking"? (Yeah. It is. There's still the whole cock-pussy-orgasm-dealy going on underneath all the fuzzywuzzy.)


I feel like the cultural expectation is that you create this kind of connection by not having sex, by fostering the romance through a courtship period and only getting naked when you really know each other. But Alan and I did the opposite and it worked the same. We had lots of sex--awkward sex, first-date sex when we barely knew each other's names, unsatisfying sex, whoops-it-keeps-falling-out sex, and tons of hot-but-unromantic sex. Having sex early didn't freeze our relationship; the sex simply evolved as the relationship did.

Maybe the slow chaste courting would have had the same result; I've never had the patience to try. All I know for sure is that if you want your wedding-night sex to be really romantic and special and perfect, one way to get that is to have absolute heaps of sex beforehand.