You can read the first part of my story here. I now consider the first rape textbook. Vanilla. Nothing…compared to the second. If you’re easily triggered, be warned now that this is ugly….
I had to write this in two parts. It was too much to get out at once. Too hard. Too trying. But I need to get these things outside of me, outside of my head.
After being raped at 14 and shunned by my whole school, I spent the remainder of my teenage years severely depressed, engaged in at-risk behaviors, in and out of abusive relationships…broken. My parents weren’t supportive and I ended up marrying the first person who asked me. I was 18, he 20. I found myself pregnant a month later and abandoned by my husband 2 years after, our daughter only 14 months old.
Being a single mother, I didn’t date until I was 23. When I was ready, I started dating on the internet and met D2. He was kind, fun, handsome, etc. He made me laugh, held doors, walked on the street side of the sidewalk. He made me feel special.
On our fifth date, we went to his place for pizza and a movie. When I showed up, I learned the only TV was in his room, but his mother was there visiting, so I didn’t worry too much about it. I told D2 that I didn’t want to have sex but would still go upstairs.
During the movie, D2 and I were kissing and heavily petting each other. He reached down and unbuttoned my jeans. I moved his hand away but continued kissing him. He reached down and started unzipping. This time, I pulled away and said I wanted to take a break. He leaned off of me onto his side and I rolled away from him to get off the bed. As soon as my back was to him, he pushed me face down onto the bed and crawled on top of me.
I called out his name and asked what he was doing even though I already knew what was coming. He responded by pulling down my unbuttoned, partially unzipped jeans and tearing at my underwear.
I felt his forearm on the back of my head, pressing my face into the pillow. D2 reached for something and I suddenly felt cold, wetness all over my lower back, buttocks, and thighs. I realized it was lubricant. He laid on top of me and whispered in my ear, “I like when you get wet for me.” I was paralyzed.
Keeping his forearm on my neck, D2 penetrated me anally and continued thrusting forcefully. After a few minutes, he asked if he could pull my hair. I told him yes. D2 grabbed as much of my hair as he could and yanked so hard that my neck popped several times and my torso was lifted backward off the bed. When he let go of my hair, he held my face into the pillow again. I asked if we could please stop now. I tell myself the pillow muffled it too much for him to hear. D2 stayed silent, panting.
He spent the next portion of time alternating between pulling my hair and suffocating me with my face in the pillow, for longer and longer each time. He switched to vaginal penetration as my vision began to blur. I begged him to wear a condom, at least I think I verbalize that. He answered by whispering between labored breaths that my “pussy. is. so. wet.” Just the way he liked it. He caressed my arms as he pumped into me. His breath curled my straightened hair. My breath and tears soaked the pillow.
Some time later, D2 pulled out of me, lost his erection and rolled away embarrassed. I dared not move. He told me to go clean myself up, so I got dressed and then locked myself in the bathroom. I’m not sure how long I was in there, but he started pounding on the door telling me to come out.
When I came back into the room, he told me to get into the bed naked. So I did. When he climbed in, I turned away from him. He spooned me. Pressed his erection against my back. Rubbed my arms and hips. When his hand slid onto my lower abdomen, I peed his bed.
Then it went black. I can’t remember anything, for at least a few hours. Next thing I knew, a different movie was ending. I was on my back. D2 told me to get dressed because he had to work in the morning. He didn’t let me have my underwear back. He laid in bed, watching me dress, while fondling my underwear. When he put his hand down to push himself up, D2 felt the wet spot I’d made. “Damn girl! It’s so fucking sexy how wet you get for me. Makes me want to fuck you again.”
“But nah. I gotta work in a few hours,” he said as he got dressed. He led me downstairs. Opened the front door. Said goodbye.
I had a 30 minute drive home.
He raped me.
He. Raped. Me.
He RAPED me.
HE raped ME.
Shit. He was too good. Too fucking good for me to be his first.
When I got home, I stripped down and hid my clothes. I showered, knowing it would get rid of any DNA. Knowing I wouldn’t press charges. Knowing he was going to rape again.
I still wonder how many pairs of underwear he has hidden away.