I’m stuck in this tunnel of obsessively trying to figure out where everything went left, upturning every significant moment in my life. But it’s my life so I get to do that. The real compulsion is making bad decisions. 

I don’t particularly feel like protecting his innocence. His name is so niche you wouldn’t get it. He was an experience, he wasn’t a person. 

When I made the decision to lose my virginity, I was only worried about one thing. Going to hell. I knew nothing about sex. Actually that’s a lie, I’d seen it on T.V and was already humping my pillows, to understand the feeling. I’d already been kissed and I knew I wasn’t satisfied but at the same time I wasn’t ready for penetration. Or so I thought. 

This is where it gets blurry, I don’t know if I read “Fifty Shades of Grey” before or after my first time. I don’t think it matters but I would love for you and I to understand why I let him enter me. 

Firstly, I hated how he tasted. I hated that I could taste him even after he was finished, that I smelled just like him. Despite the multiple showers and brushing. And yet, I craved him.

“Do you want head?” I shivered once I sent the text. “Are you sure?” I hate that question, it makes me question myself. “Yes.”

“I’m outside,” I shook after reading the message, I got myself together and snuck out of the house. 

He pulled up next to my house, I climbed into the front seat. I was nervous so he kissed me. He was a teenage boy so I wasn’t expecting much comfort. He took his trousers off and thankfully it was circumcised. It was a decent size and width, I didn’t have a ruler. 

It was quiet, I bent my head over to the driver’s seat. I went to work, I clamped my lips around his penis and curved my lips around the tip. Moving my head up and down. 

“No teeth,” he grunted. The action made it harder on my throat. I felt my jaw tighten and my neck started to hurt. I tried to come up for air and he pushed my head down. I did not like this one bit. I was not enjoying this. 

I stopped moving my neck and he began to thrust into my throat. I let him take over, satisfied with just providing a hole to fill. Without warning he released a warm liquid into my throat, I paused, then gagged, then spat. I was not ready for that. 

I thought we were done and I prepared to leave. But he hadn’t had enough of me yet. He climbed over me in the front passenger seat, reclined the seat as far back as it go and kissed me again. 

He slid his hands into me, and felt the wetness. His fingers stirred inside as he whispered, “Please.” As his tongue togged at my breasts. He was hungry so I let him eat. 

He nibbled my neck, my lips and my nips, between his ragged breaths he said again, “Please.”

I finally understood what he meant, but it was my first time. In his car? In front of my house? Did I want this? 

In my moment of lust filled passion I said okay, like the animal he was he slid in. 

Was it in? Did he know what he was doing? Was it his first time too? He began to thrust. I thought it would hurt at first then I would be filled with immense pleasure. 

There was no pain, therefore there was no pleasure. I was disappointed. 

I sighed and laid there, annoyed at the fact that I was now really just providing another hole. There was no grunt to indicate he finished. I don’t know nor care if he did. I was kind of over it. 

He finally got off me, no words were exchanged and I left. 

I went straight to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror to see if I had changed. I needed to check if the scarlet letter had appeared on my skin. I needed to know if it was obvious, I’d lost my innocence in the boy’s car. 

The catholic guilt set it, I’d risked my spot in heaven for nothing. It didn’t feel worth it and I wasn’t satisfied. 

Pandora’s box was open. I changed my name to Pandora.