guilty is how i felt when it happened. guilty that i allowed him to do it. guilty because my mom was a real prude. guilty because of what everyone said about a girl who let it happen to her. guilty, guilty, guilty because of what i did.
sure i was 15 and it was my first ‘car’ date. sure he was a senior and i was freshman. sure i should have gone only to the party. but i didn’t. i was so in love with him. i was alone with him. i wanted to feel his hands on me. i wanted to know what it felt like to be ‘felt up’. i wore my thinnest bra and panties so his hands and fingers would get a good feel. when i got home that night, i wanted to have been kissed and felt up. my goal was third base, and i wanted to know what his penis felt like in my hand.
what i didn’t know what that his goal was a home run. he knew before he came for me that he already had made second base. it didn’t take him long to get to third base. i did’t stop his hands. he felt me up. he pushed my bra up and touched my tits. he pinched my nipples. he pushed his hand up my skirt. he pushed my panty to one side and slipped his finger in my vagina. he was at third base before i was at first base.
i got brave, and reached down and touched his bulge. he was hard, hard, hard. he liked it. i unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants and took his dick in my hand. it was so hard and so good. while i held his dick i got wet, real wet. he looked in my eyes while he felt my tits and my puss. i rubbed his dick. he pushed me back in the seat and pulled my panties off. oh i knew then that i wasn’t going home a virgin. i knew then it was a home run all the way.
he pulled me up, and felt me with his whole hand, and pushed me back on the seat and crawled on me somehow, and he leaned into me and found my vagina and he was in and i wasn’t a virgin any more. he got his rythm and in and out and in and out and in and out. his eyes changed and next thing i knew he pulled out and spat up on me all over my legs and my belly.
right then i was so exited, fourth base and only 15. and with a senior. wait until i tell my girlfriends about this. they were all virgins, i was sure of that. i did tell them, and i was called a whore. he told everyone and i was called a slut. i was easy. a sure lay. and the guilt came. and stayed for a long time. maybe regret more than guilt. but a good amount of guilt. it was 1967.
it took until i was much older, out of college, to get rid of the guilt. another boy, or man really. with him, it was real, and great and very fulfilling. i married him. no guilt.
i raised my daughters to have fun and be careful, but not to feel guilty for being girls. being a girl is o.k.