“No! Don’t! Stop it, I mean it!” was all I could say, but he was already inside me. And just like that, I was no longer a virgin. He was against – and then past – my hymen within a few thrusts. If there was any pain from that, I didn’t notice. There was a little discomfort as my 18-year-old pussy was being stretched by his girth, but even that faded into what felt like forbidden pleasure. I might have shed one tear or a hundred. By the time the night was over, there’d be no way of knowing.
In hindsight, I really didn’t put up much of a fight.
It was prom night, and Vincent was good-looking, even if he wasn’t very nice. The other girls were telling me how hot he was all night, and that I needed to let him “rock my world” if I had the chance. I had dated a few guys in sophomore and junior years in high school, but the most that ever happened was feeling each other up while making out, and even then, over our clothes.