First Time story: Becca (15)

Posted by: aboutvirginity on: March 26, 2011

• In: First Time
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All I can remember is pain. I don’t really remember his face, or the sound of his voice, his rushed kisses as he pushed me down on an old bed in our friends’ house. All I remember I didn’t want it to happen, but I didn’t know how to say it.

I was 15. We were at a party, and this guy simply approached our group, out of nowhere, it seems. He spent hours dancing with my best friend. I admit, I was jealous. I wasn’t jealous because I liked him that much, or because I didn’t want my friend to have a good time. I was jealous because I wanted some attention, desperately.

I am the middle child in my family. There are 5 of us. I’m not saying my parents never payed any attention to me, but… You know how it goes. And maybe it had nothing to do with my family, my desperate need for attention.

But finally, I got the attention at the party. I sure did. It was quite late, and people were very drunk. Not me, though. It’s the funnies thing: I was completely sober. Not him. He wasn’t.

All I know is that at one point, I rushed upstairs to the bathroom. And there he was, out of nowhere it seems, waiting for me, telling me how glad he was to find me alone, outside my group. I blushed, he laughed. What a cute smile.

Then, he simply grabbed my hand, and made it seem so impatient and passionate, and before I knew it, we were in one of the rooms. I was silly enough to believe he really wanted to talk. Wrong. The next moment, his tongue was deep in my throat. And it felt so great, actually. I wanted to be touched and kissed with such a passion.

And then he stopped for a moment to look at me. In retrospective, it was a very important moment. It seemed like he really, really wanted me. And there was this bulge in his jeans to prove how aroused he was.

I was just a kid, and I didn’t understand you don’t need love, or even a great passion, to get an erection, so I thought he truly, truly wanted me. So I let him take off my shirt and my bra, and I enjoyed his touches for a while. But then he reached under my skirt, and deeper, touching sensitive places that were never touched before, not even by myself, and I felt it was wrong. I felt it was too rushed, too soon. It’s not that I didn’t wanted it, it’s not that I didn’t want him; but I wanted to enjoy other stuff first, other stuff that I experienced for the first time that night.

But there was no time for it. He pushed me down and his body was above me, all over me, my legs spread, his penis finding its way in me. It felt wrong and rushed, but I didn’t know how to say “no”. I didn’t know how to say it, because I did want him to kiss me, and I did want him to touch me, and I did want him to want me. I just didn’t want to have sex.

But before I could formulate this in my mind, we were doing it. And the pain was like something I’ve never experienced before. Like there was this tiny, tiny hole in me, and he wanted to put something so large in there, it was impossible. But it was happening.

I was motionless, but I could tell he was trying to be gentle. I must admit: he was not violent, not at all. He kept kissing me. He kept telling me how wonderful I was. He kept telling me how much he enjoyed the experience. It was surreal.

I don’t think it lasted long. I don’t really remember what happened after it. All I know is that he kissed me and thanked me. I was in shock. I thought my whole body was broken, I thought there was blood everywhere. But there were only a couple of drops, nothing more.

And then he left, and it was all over. I was left alone to put my clothes on, get up and leave. It was exactly what I did. I tried to find him in the living room, but he was gone. So I left home.

The next day was very surreal, but the day after that was when it really kicked me. I felt so dirty, so used. I felt bad because I wanted some of it to happen, so I was unable to say it was against my will. I never said “no”, and I never tried to stop him. I felt very guilty about it.

I guess what hurt the most is that I simply wasn’t ready. It’s not because I was only 15. Or because it was an one night stand with a drunken guy at a party. No. The reason I wasn’t ready is because I didn’t know how to say “no”.

Tags: first sex, first sex stories, first time, losing virginity, not being ready, virginity loss, virginity loss story