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First Times in Cagnes-sur-mer
by Jessica Kosciuszko
It was raining when Lola opened her eyes, and beyond the window the coast and sky were not their eponymous azure but a navy-tinted grey. The sheets felt different under her skin. His absence was tangible, emphasized by the scent that clung to the pillow beside hers. Lola waited for some sentiment to wash over her - relief, celebration, regret - and felt only a happy languor.

The door from the sitting room, with its view of the ancient cathedral, opened quietly into the bedroom, and Ron filled the doorway, a tray of breakfast in his hands. Lola smiled, and at the sight a lingering solemnity fled his face, the corners of his green eyes crinkling slightly.

"Good morning," he said in that voice she still found almost incongruously low. As he sat on the bed, handing Lola a bowl of chocolate and adding milk to his own bowl of coffee, the towel around his waist slid, and he didn't stop its fall. Lola let her eyes roam, from the droplets of water from the shower still clinging to the scruff on his face, which he always let grow on leave, and downwards. She'd been naked, or very nearly so, around him before, but always he'd stayed mostly dressed, a safeguard for his own self-control, since Lola so thoroughly abandoned hers.

Gazing at him, his wiry muscles under tanned skin and sandy hair, she absently sipped the chocolate, only to be reminded that morning chocolate in France was not the same as hot chocolate in Canada. So her first words to Ron, on that momentous morning, were "Ugh, where's the sugar?"

"You don't need it."

"They haven't sweetened this enough, it's hardly chocolate," she protested. He put his coffee down on the bedside table and moved toward her, and her body reflexively arched against him, but he didn't touch her, reaching for her bowl instead.

"It is perfectly chocolate, chere Lola. Children and monkeys and dogs will eat anything that's sweetened enough, even poison. But the real pleasure comes when you move into other dimensions." Ron took her finger and dipped it into the chocolate, brought it to his mouth. "If you taste everything" - he bit her fingertip, almost hard enough to hurt - "and feel everything" - he ran his tongue around her, licking off the chocolate, sucking gently - "it's a completely different experience."

She pulled her finger back and replaced it with her mouth, tasting the rich, bitter chocolate from her bowl that graced his lips.

"It's not good in spite of the bitterness," he whispered. "It's good because of the bitterness." And they both knew that, even though the night before he had become her first lover, tonight would be an even more profound first time.