Day 82 of 100 Indian Tinder Tales
Aah so refreshing to hear A from Delhi say, “my first time was nothing like what people say. It was effortless. And it was good!”
“I lost my virginity to a guy I met on Tinder. And while I have no metric to compare, he did make me see stars in dim (if not broad) daylight that muffled it’s way into our room through the cascading hotel curtains.
I matched J when I was completely bored with another guy I was then showing interest in. Nothing wrong as such, something just sounded off about the other guy. Maybe the fact that he “wanted to fuck” me on the very first date. And while I agreed to it, it (thankfully) never materialised!
J’s profile had some mystery screaming through it. A 23 year-old mountaineer and army-brat; he had those artsy mountain-gear clad images in his profile. Another one with cargo pants. And another one focusing on every muscle of his upper body. Ordinarily not a fan of shirtless images but this one deserved a right swipe. It was art. And it got one.
The first conversation with J was a broken discussion about the concept dry days and his upcoming mountaineering project in Sikkim. An abrupt end and I didn’t hear from him for the next 20 days. Until he decided to send me images from his trek in Sikkim which was nothing short of exotic. Conversation kept flowing from the randomest of internet troll-images to the meaning of religion. We had a deal on a ‘no-judgements policy’ and vent out everything we did and did not believe in. The first date was an absolute definition of a first date except that it was in a Dominos of a super crowded South Extension. We were enjoying the low maintenance and the words weren’t short or awkward or incomplete. It was now that we decided upon a trip to Rishikesh right after my exams ended. I’d lie if I say that I wasn’t apprehensive. I knew what it meant because we both knew where this was going.
Deciding to follow my gut, the next thing I knew was that I was on a bus towards Rishikesh with him right next to me criticising the functioning of buses. A trip to the hills in mid December wouldn’t be anyone’s idea of an ideal trip. And before I knew it, the cold starting to get on my nerves.
Making out, clothes off, second base, third base; things went well before my nerves started to act up and I started shivering. The perplexed look in his eyes is unforgettable where he was just holding me, to make me feel warmer and to assure that it’s completely okay if I don’t feel like having sex. I wanted to, I knew I did. But a two-degree temperature and virginity wasn’t the ideal combination for my body.
Needless to say, we didn’t have sex. That day or the day after that or the day after that. I had this urge of apologising to him for all the performance-tragedy from my end. I was sure that this was going to end here. In a last attempt to save, I did apologise. The reaction stunned me.
He reprimanded me on aplogising for something that was beyond my control. He told me that his idea of us having sex wasn’t me rushing into things before I’m ready. And all fairytale-like that it sounded, I wasn’t expecting him to be this sensitive about this either. That moment, I knew I wanted him more than ever before.
Two weeks later, we found ourselves naked, making out in a thermostat-moderated Delhi hotel. I knew this is exactly what I wanted in that moment. We had sex. And again. And again. Yet again. I saw the stars, I felt the heat; my first time was nothing like what people say. It was effortless. And it was good!
Eight months, two more trips and countless times of sex later, I’m eager to see him again in December; now that he’s training at the Military Academy (I certainly have hots for men in uniform, now that I think about it). All insecurities, jokes, and arguments aside; it’s my too-good-to-let-go moment. A person completely different in traits from me, he’s been on my mind (and nerves, mind you) for close to a year now. Four years elder, two completely different persons online and offline, he’s brought the best out of me with our mutual love for Coldplay and every annoying stint he pulls off while calling me a kid. We don’t know where it’s going, we don’t want to know; but this makes me happy. And I’m choosing happiness.”
Day 82 of 100 Indian Tinder Tales