The first time I had sex it was not a question of whether I wanted to or not.
I was a second year student in the university at the time. Somehow, by the stroke of luck, I had gone through my first year without much of a mishap.
It had been the beginning of the second semester, and I had switched hostel rooms and so, made new friends.
My new girlfriends were a little wild. Every Friday night was club night and they had guys who came to pick them up.
That night, they invited me along. I was eager to go since I found their lifestyle intriguing. Becky, she was like the queen of the clique, gave me her black dress and ankle boots to wear.
It was my very first time in a club and I was awed by the loud music, the energetic dancing bodies and the alcohol.
I had had a few alcoholic drinks before then, but nothing as hard as what I was served. I was tipsy after just one glass and forced myself to take it slow with my second glass.
One of the guys kept trying to have a conversation with me but the loud music made it impossible. His eyes stayed on me, and I guess mine stayed on him too.
Right now, when I think about it, I am not sure if he was good looking. Maybe he was, I can’t quite remember.
But after minutes of us staring at each other and me sipping my drink, he stood up, took my hand and pulled me up.
I followed him without thinking about it, and we walked out to where they had parked their cars.
I didn’t come in the same car as he did, but when he opened the door of his car, I entered in with him.
It was dark… Well, not very dark, but we could barely see other each.
He kissed me.
And while I was struggling to decide if this was something I wanted, he cupped my breast, and then the other… And then it just happened.
Right there, on the back seat of his car, with the dress Becky had loaned me still on and only my panties shifted aside.
I think I tried to say no.
Honestly, I can’t really remember. It happened so fast and I think, at the time, I must have felt like if I didn’t protest, or try too hard to stop him, it would be over quickly.
And it was.
I’m not sure how long it lasted, but it wasn’t long at all.
It seemed to me that I’d been a virgin for eighteen years and had lost it in just a matter of two, or three, minutes.
Seemed an insignificant amount of time to lose something I was raised to believe was valuable.
It’s been ten years now and I have had other sexual experiences, but I can’t still figure out if he had my consent or not.