Innocence Lost

Jennifer Ann
Copyright 2003-05-23



I was seventeen when I lost my virginity, one month short of my eighteenth birthday.  The boy’s name was Scott and he was two and one half years older than I was.  I have never spoken to him since that night.  I haven’t told many people.  Less than a handful know my story.  All of these years, it has been my dark secret.  However, it’s time for me to share my story.  

I am telling it now for several reasons.  The number one reason is for me.  Maybe, by telling it, I can, finally, put everything behind me and move forward.  Maybe, Scott will read my story and realize just what he did to me.  Lastly, maybe my telling it will mean someone else will not have to experience what I did.

I grew up in a rather small southern city and attended a religious based high school where chastity was considered a virtue.  We were constantly hearing about abstinence and, how it was the only way of insuring full protection from STDs and pregnancy.  

It only stands to reason that parents who sent their children to religious based private schools were also the type who kept close watch over their children’s’ activities.   So, I didn’t do much dating while in high school.

Still, hormones don’t care what kind of school you attend.  Like all teenagers, we found ways to discover the opposite sex.  During my senior year, I was involved in some heavy kissing and fondling with my boyfriend.  I performed oral sex on my “would be husband” and he managed to get his hands inside my panties and finger me.  However, I remained a virgin and planned to stay one until the marital bed with that golden ring on my finger.

I graduated from our little safe haven high school and soon found myself on the campus of our state mega university.  We had more kids on campus than my entire home town had people and dogs.  I had been blessed with a better than average singing voice and had studied dance I was since nine years old.  So I majored in Fine Arts.  That’s where I met Scott.

I signed up for a dance class that had students from different levels.  Scott, was a Junior, taking the class.  He was simply the most beautiful man I had even seen.  He had beautiful blue eyes that swallowed you and huge shoulders which tapered down to the most gorgeous butt I had even seen on a man in tights.  And, rumor had it that he was straight.  I was in LOVE. 

Of course, there was no way I could let him know how I felt.  Why, would someone like him see anything in a little freshman from the country?  So, when he actually came up and spoke to me, I thought I would die.  I don’t remember anything I said, but I must have said something right.  Two or three days later one of my girlfriends told me that she had heard from her boyfriend, who was friends with Scott that he thought I was hot.

A week later, he asked me if I wanted to go with him to see a touring dance group that was performing on campus.  We were required to attend a number of these events anyway, so I would have said yes to the biggest dork in class.  Now, this was Scott asking me.  Of course, I said yes.

After the performance, we went to a local pizza place where we met some of Scott’s friends.  Later, we all left and went to somebody’s apartment where beer and marijuana appeared.  I was more afraid of the marijuana than, so I sipped on a beer.

It wasn’t long before Scott leaned over, lifted my chin and kissed me.  I was in heaven!  His lips and mine felt like they were the matched pair.  My eyes closed and I floated into him and his strong arms, as they wrapped around me pulling me into his chest.

I had no objections when his tongue begged for entrance and begin playing with mine.  He kissed me down my neck, sending shivers of exquisite pleasure through my body.   I felt his hands on my breasts which, excited me even more, as he pressed them through my bra and shirt.  It was only when he tried to remove my shirt from over my head that I got nervous.  There were others in the room.  He suggested that we find a more private spot.  At that point, warnings went off in my head.  I was afraid of getting into something, which I couldn’t get out.  But, I was so excited, it felt so good being with Scott.  So I agreed.

Soon, I was naked to the waist, as Scott devoured my breasts.  I have never been overly endowed, but Scott didn’t seem to care.  He kissed and fondled them, getting me more and more excited.

I found myself lying back on the bed with Scott’s body pressing on top of me. I could feel excitement through his shorts.  I also realized that he had moved his hand between my legs and was rubbing me through my shorts.  Although, my body screamed yes, my mind said NO!  I placed my hand on his and asked him to stop.

He didn’t want to.  “But, Julie,” he exclaimed.

“I’m sorry Scott,” I replied.  “I don’t want to do that right now.”

“Why?  Are you a virgin?”

“Yes.”

“No shit?”

That hurt.  But, I didn’t say anything at first.  Finally, I said, “I’m sorry.”

“Look Julie,” he told me.  “You don’t have to worry.  I won’t do anything.  But, you can still enjoy the pleasure.  We just won’t go all the way.”

I was torn between asking him to take me home and giving in.  I was nervous and apprehensive and yet, I wanted to continue.  I gave in.

I let him remove my shorts but I left my panties on.  That gave me some feeling of security.  We resumed kissing and Scott started to finger me and rub my clitoris.  But, it wasn’t the same as before.  I just couldn’t relax and enjoy it any longer.  Scott must have picked up on my mood swing.  He began to act differently.  He still kissed and touched me but I could tell something was wrong.

“What’s the matter Scott?  Is it me?” I asked.

“It’s alright Julie.  It’s just that you are so beautiful and I want to make love to you so bad,” he announced.  “And…besides, I’ve got blue balls.”

“Blue balls?”  I asked.  “What’s that?”

“It’s when a girl gets a guy all excited.  If he doesn’t cum, his balls can begin to hurt.  It’s called blue balls.”

Now, I felt like a real shit.  I had gone and caused him to have blue balls.  Whatever, that was?  However, it did sounded horrible and I felt badly for him.

“Can I help?” I asked innocently.

He smiled and shook his head.  “Well, you could let me screw you?”

“No.” 

“I figured that,” he mumbled.  Then he smiled at me, “There is one other thing you could do?”

“What’s that?”

“You could give me a blow job.”

Somehow, I felt like I was being manipulated.  However, I had done it before and besides this was Scott, if it would help him?  Why not?

“Ok.” 

Scott removed his pants and I got my first look at his penis.  I will admit that the thought of giving him pleasure was exciting to me.  My fears and doubts left me as I began tentatively, then with more desire to; kiss, lick and suck on his penis.

It did not take long before he was trying to force it deeper down my throat.  I kept pulling my head back to stop from gagging.  His motions and reactions told me he was getting close to cuming.  I had never swallowed before and, I did not intend to do so then.  I was prepared to remove my mouth when I felt him tighten.  I never got the chance.  He grabbed my head and forced it down, as I felt him cum into my mouth.  

I tried to swallow but his penis was too deep and I couldn’t.  I started to gag again. He must have realized what was happening because he relaxed his grip and allowed me to lift my head enough to keep me from choking.  I kept my mouth on him and swallowed as much as I could.

When it was all over, we got dressed and he drove me home.  I laid in bed, torn emotionally.  I was pent up sexually from the experience but, I also felt disturbed, demeaned and somehow dirty.  The thought of making myself cum while thinking of Scott didn’t seem right.  I thought of what I might have done to make him act that way with me.  Finally, I fell asleep.

*****************************************************************************

The next week he called and asked me if I was interested in going with him and some friends to the upcoming football game on Saturday night.  I said yes.  The game was an experience for me.  There must have been 70-80,000 people in that stadium.  The excitement was electrifying and I felt like I was part of something awesome.

One of Scott’s friends had smuggled alcohol into the stadium and kept adding it to our cokes, so by the fourth quarter I had a real buzz.  After the game, every one was heading to the same apartment where we had been the previous week.  I felt uncomfortable going there again, so I told Scott I felt woozy and asked him to take me back to my dorm.

When we got to my room, I invited him in.  We had a nice conversation as we sat on my bed.  My roommate was out so we had the place to our selves.  It was not long, before we were at it again.  I had forgotten my fears of the week before.  I felt secure in my own room and the alcohol made me feel care free and amorous.

It wasn’t long before we were down to panties and boxer shorts.  Scott’s erect penis kept poking out and, I could feel it rubbing against my bare thigh.  It both scared and excited me.

“I want to give you pleasure, Julie,” he told me.

“Oh, you are giving me pleasure.” I replied.

“No, I mean…I really want to pleasure you,” he replied.

“Please Scott, I think we should wait.

“No, I want to eat you out.”

‘Eat me out?”  

“Yes, I want to eat you out till you cum.”

 “That won’t gross you out?”

“Heck no!” he answered.  “Did it gross you out to do me?”

I couldn’t tell him that it did, so I answered, “No.”

“Well, then, why should I be grossed out?  Besides, you will love it.  I promise.”

I relented and allowed him to remove my panties, which was my last barrier and line of defense.

He began to eat me out.  It felt good, very good.  However, like the last time, in the apartment.  I was anxious.  There were warnings going off in my head.  There was no way I could relax enough to cum. 

After awhile he stopped and slowly kissed his way up my belly, breasts and to my lips.  I could smell myself on his face and tried to turn my face away.  I didn’t want to kiss him just then.  It seemed gross and dirty.  He just started kissing my neck and ears then he was kissing me on the lips.  Before I could say anything, his tongue filled my mouth.

It felt nice to be held and in his arms and to feel his body against mine.  Then he shifted his position so that his legs were between mine.  I could feel his penis rubbing my thigh.  Fear shot through me like electricity.  I knew where he was heading.

“NO Scott!” I exclaimed.

‘Don’t worry Julie, it will be good,” he insisted.  “You’ll love it.”

“Please Scott, no!  I don’t want to,” I cried and tried to push him off of me.

He covered my mouth with his and shoved his tongue down my throat.  He then used his legs to force mine open.  I could feel his penis rubbing against me trying to get in.

“Please God, make him stop,” I prayed.  But, God didn’t help me.

He jabbed me once then twice but his penis would not enter.  Frustrated, he grabbed his penis and rubbed it between my lips to positioning it correctly.  Then he forced his way in and raped me.  It was painful.  I was dry and my vaginal muscles were not relaxed.  At first he penetrated me just a little, then deeper and finally, all the way.

I barely felt the pain of my hymen breaking.  But, I did feel my self-worth being torn away with each of his strokes.  This was a far greater pain to bear.  It made me feel dirty, cheap and demeaned.  I remember thinking that this couldn’t be happening.  You wouldn’t do this to me.  All the while, I knew I was lying to myself.  I wondered what I had done to cause this to happen.  I told him NO! He didn’t hear me and now he was raping me.

I don’t remember much after that except Scott mumbling something about “sorry. I just had to have you,” before getting dressed and leaving as quickly.  About an hour later, my roommate found me lying on the bed still naked, in the fetal position and crying.  I told her what happened.  She wanted me to report you and press charges.  I would not. I was too ashamed.

The fear of people talking about me and of being known as a soiled woman was too much.  I couldn’t handle any more demeaning.  No, it was better just to suppress and forget what happened and try to move on.  Suppressing it was easy, forgetting and moving on, was much harder.

For years, I was afraid of men.  My eyes would search every man who approached me for signs of danger. In time, I was able to sleep with other men.  However, I could never abandon myself to love making.  My lack of trust kept me from really enjoying sex, and I am sure, made me seem less than perfect to my partner.

I spent years avoiding the pain and anguish of what happened to me, especially after having sex.  I knew, in order to have a life, I needed to get help.  While at the gynecologist, I saw a brochure for rape counseling.  I called the number listed and found myself going once a week.  In one of my sessions, my counselor suggested I write out my feelings in a letter to the man who raped me.  

******************************************************************************

“Dear Scott, if you are reading this, I know now that you didn’t take long.  However, in the short time when you were rapping me, it seemed like forever.  I felt afraid.  I feared getting pregnant.  I was afraid of getting AIDS.  I also felt like part of my soul was being torn out of me as I lay there.  No Scott, I felt no pleasure.  It was not good and I hated it

“Then I felt you go rigid and I knew you were cuming.  No, I didn’t feel your ‘hot spunk splash and slam against my uterus,’ like the porn stories say.  I felt fear and anguish wondering if, I was pregnant and YOU had destroyed the life I knew.  

“You see Scott; you took more from me than my virginity.  You took my innocence of life and love.  You took more than my womanhood.  You took from me what it meant to be a woman.  That is why I would never speak to you when you called.  That is why I dropped the dance class and later changed schools.  I could not handle seeing you again and reliving everything over and over again.

“I once read, where some man said that if rape is inevitable, the woman should just lie back accept it and enjoy.  My question for him is, ‘If your testicles were in a vice slowly being tightened, would you accept and enjoy it?’

“When Jesus died he said, “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.”  I have forgiven you for what you did.  Maybe you didn’t know what you were doing.  However, so far I haven’t been able to forget what you took away.  Maybe, by reading this you will understand what you did.  That would be enough.  Julie”

*****************************************************************************

Writing that letter was so liberating for me.  Within a few months, I was done with therapy and then one day my life changed.  I met Bill.  Bill managed to repair much of the damage done to me; I was able to learn how to trust without fear and reservation.  He somehow understood my reluctance was fear.  He loved me and he was caring and gentle.

Most of all he was patient.  He never forced me to do anything I did not want to do; or which made me feel uncomfortable. I began, for the first time, to feel loved.  To him, I was special.  Gradually, I began to trust again.  With trust came the desire to give myself to him in lovemaking.  You might say, he gave me back the womanhood Scott took away.

Genuine critiques may be sent to me at:  jam1075@bellsouth.net
