And It Was Wrong

A Good Friend of Mine

I met this guy through a mutual friend. He had ended up moving to my apartment complex, so I got to know him a lot better. I had feelings for him, and I thought he felt the same. We spent almost everyday together for three months. We always flirted and played around with each other. He knew I was a virgin and wasn't ready to go all the way. It was Christmas Eve. My parents were out shopping. I told him to come over. We were messing around like always. Then all of a sudden his fingers went inside of me. I had never done that before. I told him to stop then he said "No I know you want ...

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8 Months to the Day

We were friends who liked to drink. But I was 34 and he was 38 so I knew that I was in the company of an adult and nothing bad could ever happen when two adults respected and trusted each other. The first time I slept with him, we were happy and drunk but it was consensual and casual and I had a good time. I think he did, too. Two weeks later, we were still friends who liked to drink. But it was Christmas Eve and I knew that nothing bad could ever happen because this was a holiday and we were adults who still respected and trusted each other. We had more happy, drunken, consensual sex that night ...

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Birthday

On his seventeenth birthday, there was no party. We had been broken up for over a year but maintained a relatively consistent friendship and it was a special enough occasion and I didn’t want to be at home on a summer day. June 2nd. Hotter than I would have expected. I drove to his house and because we had once dated, because he always flirted, because it was hot, I had a feeling we could wind up naked. We did. I knew even before he had kissed me that it was not what I wanted. Even though he never pushed me down, he never asked me either. I was somewhere else while he was inside me on the sticky leather ...

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At Least...

I could not believe that the Eagle Scout I’d met five hours ago in a church could really have his hand down the front of my shorts in my cousin’s backyard while we watched Rocky Horror Picture Show on a huge projector screen set up by my uncle. His name was J and he had a butterfly knife in his pocket; he’d shown me and the other teenagers at this graduation party some tricks with it before we’d settled in for the movie. Rainbow blades like wings, fluttering and clicking, beautiful as they were menacing. I was kissing him back. I thought he was cute, an older boy. I was the youngest at fifteen. My cousin was the graduate. These ...

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