Loss of an Innocence

I remember how you looked to me. I was so young, too young really. Thirteen years old and yet you seemed to command my attention. It's not as if our surroundings were normal. We lived together even though we were strangers to one another. I no longer remember your story. Barely your name, it was Richard, I think. You were tall even without your cowboy hat. I was little then. Skinny girl with long, dark, wavey hair and big brown eyes.

I still wonder what caught your attention. You were not the first guy I lived with. The program I was in, was designed to help me become acclimated to living in society again. I had spent so much time living in homes and facilities. There were three of us in that program. Kevin, Jason and myself. For one reason or another, all three of us had spent so much time in homes that we had to learn to function with other people again. I was not your typical girl. I didn't have the urge to wear dresses, or do my hair every morning, or wear makeup. I wanted the guys to find me funny. I wanted to make them laugh, I wanted to be "one of the guys". Until you moved in.

You were placed at Horizon House because you were a runaway. Because it was either that or juvinile hall. Even then I had subbmissive issues. I recall that I was the one that always cooked dinner, set the table, cleared the dishes and washed them. No, it was not "required" of me, all of you were assigned chores, but I did it because it made me feel good.

I remember clearly the night that I first realized I had an effect on you. I was sitting there watching television, crammed between Kevin and Jason, my two best friends, eating a red popsicle. It was not meant to be sexual. Then I caught your eye and the look there sent tiny little shards of lightning down into my stomach and my breath caught. You glanced down to your lap and my eyes followed. I could hear my heart beating in my ears as I realized you were hard, just from watching me. That's when the game began. I slowed down, letting my tongue slowly move across the popsicle, taking it into my mouth as far as I could. Watching your eyes widen, you being the only one that noticed.


When I was done, I felt powerful. I felt like I was beautiful. A very odd feeling for me at that age. I went to my room. Of course, the fact that you had to go into my bedroom to get to the bathroom gave you the perfect exscuse to follow me. You grabbed me by the waist and growled softly at me. Your green eyes boring into me. I felt like a puddle of melted wax and I knew that you were going to kiss me. You did, and while it was not the first time I had been kissed, I felt my knees go weak. You pressed me hard against you and claimed me as yours. We only had a moment, because physical contact like this was forbidden and I remember wondering how long it would take before Mac realized what was going on.

This game went on for a long time. Me, going to school during the day, coming home to steal a few kisses, some light touches, serving dinner, more kisses, more touches. I became to depend on those. It didn't take Kevin and Jason long to figure it out. They tried to warn me against you. Told me you were too old for me, nearly eighteen you were. They told me that all you wanted was sex. All I heard were your words of love, the gentle touch, the need for me in your eyes. Then one day I came home and you were gone. They said you ran away. I was literally sick to my stomach, heartbroken. I cried myself to sleep that night.

Kevin and Jason came to me the next morning. I could tell it was something important, the looks they exchanged between one another told me that they didn't really want to tell me whatever it was, but after a moment, they gave me a letter. One that you had written to me and I cried again as I read how much you loved me, and how you needed me in your life. At the very bottom there was an address that I recognized. It was some friends of mine who lived not to far away. Your letter asked me to come to you, if I still felt the same way. Jason and Kevin watched me closely, they had already read the letter and were fearful that I would run away to be with you. I promised them that I would not do that. I had already had too much of life on the run. I did however, go to that house, knock on that door and skip school that day.

Someone answered the door, I don't remember now who it was, only that I did not recognize him, and he said to me " You must be Richard's girl" and I smiled a bit and nodded, he smiled back at me and I felt approval in his gaze. He led me down a set of darkened stairs. I went without a second thought, though, in hindsight I guess I was very lucky, I could have ended up gang rapped. None of that was in my mind though. My heart was in my throat, I knew that you would be asleep, it was only six thirty in the morning, what could you expect, I was on my way to school.

I saw you, curled up, sleeping peacefully. Even at twelve, I was struck with how much younger you looked as you slept, how relaxed, how handsome you were. I knelt next to you, as you were sleeping on the floor with an old blanket and your jacket for a pillow. My hand reached out to gently caress your face, your skin soft under the tips of my fingers. I ran my fingers into your silken blonde hair and you stirred slightly and a knot jumped into the pit of my stomach. I lean down and nuzzled my face into your neck and I feltl your arms wrap around me and pull me towards you. I revel in your manly scent and I wiggle to get closer to you. We kissed, slow lazy kisses. Your hands drift over the small of my back and I give off a contented sigh.

You however, are not content with this, your need is great and soon you are raining kisses down all over my face, my neck, my chest. You slowly slide the shirt from my shoulders and your hands reach up to touch my breasts. The nipples are straining towards your hand and you press harder against me before you dip your head to suckle at them. Your hands move down to find my wetness, one finger sliding along the folds slowly. I close my eyes and my body arcs up to meet your mouth, your fingers, even your breath. I can't get enough of you. I feel you pause a moment, your finger gone from my most sacred spot only long enough to take my hand and lead it to your arousal. I run my fingers along it, it seems big, but, what experience do I have? I feel a little afraid, but, I can't say anything because you might get angry. You might not love me anymore. Your eyes might darken and you might order me to get out, forever. So I allow you to continue, I even move against you.

I shift slightly, sliding down the length of you, kissing the entire way. This is not new to me, I've done this before. This is my safety net. If I can get you to cum in my mouth, then you will not want to put it inside of me. I use all my tricks, and several times I feel you getting close only to pull away from me. It leaves me confused and almost afraid, but not enough to make you stop, not enough to get up and leave. No matter how afraid I am of you taking away the one innocence I have left, the fear of you rejecting me is even more compelling.

I don't remember any words being spoken between us, no "are you ready for this" or anything like that. I just recall you being poised over me, in between my legs, feeling you pressing against me. My hands shoot out to your thighs, now I'm panicked, I know I shouldn't be doing this. I want to leave. You press forward and I scoot back. I can't find the words to say no, but I shake my head and my eyes dart around the room, perhaps looking for an escape. You move close once again and out of instint I scoot back again, my hands pressing against your thighs, silently I am asking you to stop for I can't find the words. This goes on for what seems like eternity, until I have no more room to back up, I am literally against a wall now. Just as the panic is enough that I think I can say something, you shove up against me hard, forcing yourself into my body. Forcing is a bad word to use, because I have not "said" for you to stop, but I use this word because I keep shaking my head and my body is no longer responding to you and yet, you don't seem to notice. You just keep pushing.

After what I am sure now was only a second, but what seemed like forever, you pull back and I breath a sigh of relief, my hand reaching up to caress your face. I want to tell you thank you, I want you to know how good it feels to me that you would stop for me. Your hand slowly comes up and my eyes turn inquisitive as you spit into it. I have never seen this before and my gaze shifts to watch you stroking yourself with your own spit. I have never seen a man do this before and I think to myself that I must be someone very special to you for you to need me so badly that you would masterbate over my nakkid body.

You smile, it seems a loving smile and I return the smile. My hand shifts down to touch your chest, it has no hair, it's very smooth under my fingers. You shift so that as you stroke yourself you are right over me. Your free hand reaching out to press against my clit. I close my eyes. I know what this leads to, I have touched myself before.

I open my mouth to tell you that I love you. What comes out is a pain filled cry as you have now shoved yourself completely inside me. My eyes flare open and tears spring to my eyes as I feel something inside me tear. Your eyes widen as they meet mine and I begin to cry softly. It doesn't stop you though, you keep going, thrusting deeply into me. I feel no pleasure at this, only pain. I turn my face away from you, staring at the wall as your movements pick up, then suddenly you are no longer inside me and I turn my head to see if it is over. just in time for me to watch as you spurt your juices all over my flat stomach. Your face is flushed and you are breathing raggedly.

You stand up and move into the bathroom. Only then do I notice that we have moved all the way across the room and now are only a few feet from it. You return with a towel in your hand and are cleaning yourself off. There are no tender words. The loving look is gone from your eyes. You stare at me for a moment, the tears running down my face, the blood trickling out of me and you lean down to pick up my clothes and toss them on top of me. "I'm sorry" is all that you say and I can barely breath the pain is so bad. Somehow I manage to struggle to my feet and run to the bathroom where I lock the door and through my tears I get myself cleaned up and dressed.

When I return, you are sitting on the floor. You won't look at me. I don't understand what I've done wrong. I gave you what you wanted. No, you >took< what you wanted, with no regard to me. All I wanted from you was to be loved. I kneel down next to you and brush your long golden locks out of your face. I'm not sure what to say, not sure how to make this better between us. Maybe it is the same for you, for you say nothing and turn your face away from me. There is nothing left for me to do but stand up and leave.

I leave then, but I do not go to school. I can't face Marcy. She will ask questions and I fear that I can not tell her what happened. I can't go back because Kevin and Jason will surely be able to look at me and know and Mac will ask why I am not in school. So instead I wander around thinking about things. Why didn't you cum inside me? Was it because you didn't want to get me pregnant? Or was it because I was not worthy of it?

My answer comes to me a few months later, when I find out that you are to be a father. I was not good enough for you. Not good enough for you to give of yourself to, though you took what was my greatest gift.

This is the true story of how I lost my virginity. I still think about it, and I still wonder what it was about me that was not good enough for him. It seems to be a common theme in my life. I feel as though I am not good enough for those that I love. It is something I am trying to work through. It is hard though.

When the people I care about don't let me in, my old doubts and fears come forth. Whey can't they confide in me? Why don't they trust me? Have I let them down at some point? My heart aches every time this happen. I love so deeply and want so despretely to make those around me feel safe and loved and secure. Yet, I am afraid to speak up, afraid of being rejected. I am left thinking about what might have been, what could have been and what should have been and I feel overwhelmed by it. This is a good place to stop before I lead myself down a path that I shouldn't. All I can do is hope that they all know how deeply I love them. Especially him.