January 28 2017

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     The first time we did it, I did it because I loved him, and not because I wanted to. I just wanted him to love me back.
He went down on me first. When he tried to take my pants off, I tried to stop him. He told me to trust him. So I laid down and pretended to like it. He kissed me, but it was so light it was as if he was barley there at all.
     After he went down on me, I was expected to return the favor. The feeling of him has yet to leave my memory though I want it gone. I cried, and I gagged, and though he would ask me if I was okay, he would always push the back of my head so my face would be back down to where I did not want to be.
   And the first time he went into me, he went in less than an inch so he knew the next time I would not protest because I did not think I would be worth anything.
     The first time we did it, I looked at the ceiling. He kept asking me if I was sure, and I told him yes because I felt the times before were enough for it not to matter anymore. I felt that there was no point to say no because he would continue to push.
     He used to finger me, telling me that I had to be prepared for the first time so it wouldn't hurt. So he could just take me. So he would try to stretch me out. And when he finally took me, I didn't bleed. It hurt, and I told him to go slower, but I didn't bleed  because I had bled before. He therefore didn't think I was a virgin and told me he wasn't the only one. He accused me of sleeping with every boy I talked to. He even deleted their numbers out of my phone so I would know I was his.
     He tried to take me at school. But the thing is, karma is a bitch and someone sure as hell was looking out for me. I told him not there. I told him I wasn't wet. I tried to tell him I didn't want to. Yet he still pushed me over the chair and pulled my pants down. He tried to bend me over as far as I would go. At that point I just gave up trying to stop him. I had accepted the fact that it was happening. After all, it was what I wanted, wasn't it? All I was good for was being his whore, or so it felt. So I let him bend me over as I looked at the floor. And the moment I felt him try to push, he stopped. And he completely pulled himself away from me. When I tried to turn around, he made me promise not to freak out. I promised. His hands were covered with his own blood and it wouldn't stop bleeding. Something had snapped, literally. Then my mom called and I apologized for being late for her to pick me up and the excuse I gave was that he had a nosebleed. I gave him a pack of tissues and I left him. I felt awful because I felt like it was my fault. But, like I said before, karma is a bitch and someone was looking out for me.
     The first time I swallowed was on my 17th birthday. He took me in the school, and I convinced myself I liked it. He wanted me to go down on him, but I wasn't any good. So he looked at me and told me I would have to swallow when he said. I felt so uncomfortable looking at him as he was doing that, and he took that as me being turned on. Maybe I was trying I convince myself I was, but I didn't know what to do. So when he said he needed me, I waited. And when I saw it, his eyes got wide. And he took my head down and I had to catch it all and lick up what I missed. I almost gagged, but I swallowed it and smiled at him as if I was proud of myself. I should have just let him come on himself.
     He never came with me again after that. But he still asked for favors at school. One of the days I had been crying, I laid down on the windowsill underneath the sunlight. My eyes were still teary when I heard the zipper and him saying he wanted to try something, then he turned my head and began. I gagged, and I tried to pull away at first. But I gave up. I just laid there on that windowsill and took it. I still remember how my eyes watered and how I tried to press my lips together because I didn't want to do it anymore. I knew I would do it until my mom got ahold of me and would take me out, until someone would find us, or until he came. I just wanted it to be over with. I didn't like it.
     I just wanted him to love me.

And now I am haunted by first memories of him that I cannot erase

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