Is it always the most fraught with waiting and anticipation, that fabled first time? How does the next compare, and the next after that, and then the last time? Does the second count, the third, by which time you should've learned what you didn't the first time? They tell you to lie in the bed you made, though you didn't push yourself into it that first time. The first is like some kind of tight, shiny prize unless you're the one on offer, that first time. You're warned to be careful; don't send cues or mixed signals that could lead to the first time. You've heard stories: whole households inspecting the hole in the ritual sheet, after the first time.