||I was 13, he was 18. He was tall and handsome. The cousin of a neighbor. My parents worked opposite shifts, leaving me at home for 3 hours a day alone. My house was the party stop every afternoon. We would play music, watch tv, talk, eat. My best friend was older. I was in the 8th grade, she was 9th. She was more experienced that I was. I wanted to keep up.
When we talked about boys, I had no stories to tell. When Marc wanted to take me to my bedroom, I wanted to go. I wanted him to want me. I was flat chested and plain. People at school teased me - said I looked like a boy. I wanted to be wanted. He pushed me down on my waterbed and climbed on top of me. He started kissing me. The kissing felt good.
He pulled my pants down and started to rub me with his fingers. He had big hands. He was rough. It started to hurt.
He pulled his pants down and put the head of his penis inside me. He pushed and I cried. I begged him to stop. It burned and bled. He pushed harder. He was huge and I was tiny.
I ripped and tore - but he didn't break my hymen. He just kept pushing the tip inside. He laughed when I cried.
He finished, and I was technically still a virgin.
I relieve that afternoon over every day of my life. It has been 30 years and I will never overcome my "first" time.
I saw his name pop up on facebook recommended friends and threw up a few months ago.
I am never going to get over it. I don't know if what he did was rape, but I know at 13 I wasn't prepared to make a decision about sex with an 18 year old man.