I was sixteen and a sophomore in high school. I was dating a senior at the time and thought he really cared about me. We were engaged for two years. One Saturday morning, he called and asked my mom if it was ok that he take me to lunch. Mom said, yeah, and then he asked me. I of course said yes, and within the hour I was sitting in the front seat of his truck, driving down a street I knew of but didn’t really know. I was nervous because we had only ever hung out with groups of friends, never alone. We drove out to the lake where he laid out a picnic. It was chilly, the first kiss of fall. We sat there, talking and munching on the lunch his older sister had packed for us.
Slowly, the topic turned towards the one thing I didn’t really want it to turn to: sex. He asked me if I had ever done it, and I said no. He asked if I had ever seen a man’s penis, and I said outside of Sex Ed, no. He asked if he could kiss me, and I was stupid. I said yes. Next thing I know, I am laying on the blanket, leaves in my hair, and his hand up my skirt. I freaked out and he pulled back. He asked what was wrong, and I told him I wasn’t ready yet. He started listing reasons why we should.
We had been together for years. No one was around to tell us no. He knew I was a virgin and would be gentle with me. He had condoms in his wallet. I looked into those eyes and believed that he and I would be together forever. I was stupid.
It started off as everyone’s first time does: awkward. I was nervous and had no experience. I was as innocent and pure as freshly fallen snow. It should have set off warning bells when he knew exactly what to do, and where to do it. He hit all those spots just right, and suddenly he was there inside me. It hurt. I remember crying and him softly wiping the tears away and whispering to me. He was gentle at first, and he was really sweet about it.
Afterwards, however, I felt horrible. I had him drop me off at my dad’s house and called my mom to let her know where I was. Since it was a four day school weekend, I was supposed to go to dad’s anyways, so it was ok. The first thing I did after that was take a shower. I scrubbed until I was red and didn’t know why. I was raw and shaking when I got out and curled on my bed with my robe. I don’t know how long I laid on that bed holding my favorite plushie to my chest before my boyfriend’s older brother, my best friend and confidant, knocked on the door. Dad had been worried about me and called Regan, hoping he would be able to get what was bothering me out. I put on a smile and did one thing I swore to Regan I would never do to him. I lied. I told him everything was ok, that I just needed to work some things out for myself. And he believed me.
Two weeks passed, and I found out that my boyfriend, Zack, had been cheating on me with not one, but three other girls. I remember running to Regan and I remember the way his normally soft blue eyes went cold as he left me with his sister and father and left the room. I found out later he left the house and hunted Zack down. I called Zack as soon as Angel realized his oldest son had left and broke it off. I told him I knew about the other girls, and I couldn’t do it. Tyff sat with me in her room, doing everything she could to get her own brother off my mind. She eventually succeeded but doing the one thing she went to school for: giving me a makeover. I got my mom’s permission to cut my hair and let Tyff have at it.
I remember Regan’s face when he got back, blood that I found out later was Zack’s on his shirt and hands and sporting a broken nose. I broke down, told him I lied, and finally told him everything I had told his sister not an hour before, told him everything I had on my chest. He listened and told me something he had been keeping from me for years. He told me that he loved me, and when he said it, I felt in my heart that it was true, unlike with his brother. He said he didn’t want my answer then, not when the wounds were so fresh in my heart, but later when I had time to heal.
It took me a month, and I still smile at the memory of the smile on his face when I told him that we could try dating. It didn’t work out, but in the end, it was one of the two most magical relationships I had ever had.
I learned my lesson then. If you’re not sure, don’t do it. You’ll only regret it later on. Don’t let anyone talk you into it. You’ll do it when, or even if, you’re ready. My biggest regret wasn’t holding on that long, or even being the one who believed his lies. My biggest regret was the moment I let him talk me into having sex before I was ready. The next time I was with someone (ironically Regan), we considered it my first time, and it was one of the most magical nights in my life.
Slowly, the topic turned towards the one thing I didn’t really want it to turn to: sex. He asked me if I had ever done it, and I said no. He asked if I had ever seen a man’s penis, and I said outside of Sex Ed, no. He asked if he could kiss me, and I was stupid. I said yes. Next thing I know, I am laying on the blanket, leaves in my hair, and his hand up my skirt. I freaked out and he pulled back. He asked what was wrong, and I told him I wasn’t ready yet. He started listing reasons why we should.
We had been together for years. No one was around to tell us no. He knew I was a virgin and would be gentle with me. He had condoms in his wallet. I looked into those eyes and believed that he and I would be together forever. I was stupid.
It started off as everyone’s first time does: awkward. I was nervous and had no experience. I was as innocent and pure as freshly fallen snow. It should have set off warning bells when he knew exactly what to do, and where to do it. He hit all those spots just right, and suddenly he was there inside me. It hurt. I remember crying and him softly wiping the tears away and whispering to me. He was gentle at first, and he was really sweet about it.
Afterwards, however, I felt horrible. I had him drop me off at my dad’s house and called my mom to let her know where I was. Since it was a four day school weekend, I was supposed to go to dad’s anyways, so it was ok. The first thing I did after that was take a shower. I scrubbed until I was red and didn’t know why. I was raw and shaking when I got out and curled on my bed with my robe. I don’t know how long I laid on that bed holding my favorite plushie to my chest before my boyfriend’s older brother, my best friend and confidant, knocked on the door. Dad had been worried about me and called Regan, hoping he would be able to get what was bothering me out. I put on a smile and did one thing I swore to Regan I would never do to him. I lied. I told him everything was ok, that I just needed to work some things out for myself. And he believed me.
Two weeks passed, and I found out that my boyfriend, Zack, had been cheating on me with not one, but three other girls. I remember running to Regan and I remember the way his normally soft blue eyes went cold as he left me with his sister and father and left the room. I found out later he left the house and hunted Zack down. I called Zack as soon as Angel realized his oldest son had left and broke it off. I told him I knew about the other girls, and I couldn’t do it. Tyff sat with me in her room, doing everything she could to get her own brother off my mind. She eventually succeeded but doing the one thing she went to school for: giving me a makeover. I got my mom’s permission to cut my hair and let Tyff have at it.
I remember Regan’s face when he got back, blood that I found out later was Zack’s on his shirt and hands and sporting a broken nose. I broke down, told him I lied, and finally told him everything I had told his sister not an hour before, told him everything I had on my chest. He listened and told me something he had been keeping from me for years. He told me that he loved me, and when he said it, I felt in my heart that it was true, unlike with his brother. He said he didn’t want my answer then, not when the wounds were so fresh in my heart, but later when I had time to heal.
It took me a month, and I still smile at the memory of the smile on his face when I told him that we could try dating. It didn’t work out, but in the end, it was one of the two most magical relationships I had ever had.
I learned my lesson then. If you’re not sure, don’t do it. You’ll only regret it later on. Don’t let anyone talk you into it. You’ll do it when, or even if, you’re ready. My biggest regret wasn’t holding on that long, or even being the one who believed his lies. My biggest regret was the moment I let him talk me into having sex before I was ready. The next time I was with someone (ironically Regan), we considered it my first time, and it was one of the most magical nights in my life.
The similar thing happened to me.
I'm sorry about what happened to you.
You wrote this very well. I enjoyed reading it.
Also on a sidenote: Not everyone's first time is awkward. :o