The boy next door. Well actually, technically he was a man, ten years older. I had just turned sixteen and I was jailbait. I went over to talk to him. I was headstrong and didn’t listen. I wore a summer dress with bikini panties, and I guess the dress was see through in the sun where I was standing. My nipples tended to get hard when I was talking to a boy, but this was a man and my nipples were hard and I was wet. When he grabbed me by the crotch I said ‘what the fuck’, but it was too late I was on my back on the couch. It took him a second to pull off my panties. He smelled them and told me to open my legs so he could fuck me.
I lay on my back with legs open, my dress bunched up under my arms. He got his pants off and his dick ready and told me to hold my breath, he was going in. My pussy was so wet I hardly felt any resistance, I didn’t really feel something until he was all in and fucking. The house had windows that looked out on our yard and driveway, and I saw my mother in the window watching. She was knocking on the window, and then came around to knock on the door. He asked what the fuck was going on, he doubled down to finish fucking me. My mother had come around and got in through the kitchen door and found me with my legs wide open and he was standing over me with dick still wet from fucking me.
He was caught dead to rights. A pure and simple case of statutory rape. I was a minor, and below the age of consent. And he was a man, as far as the law was concerned. My mother testified with all sorts of double meanings, she could not say intercourse or penetration or any of the necessary words. It was I caught them in the act, or he was pantless. the judge had a hard time deciding. He asked me to testify but I refused. The guy would not sign a confession. Caught dead to rights, my mother could not say he was engaged in intercourse with me, as the law required. That I got pregnant and had to miss a year of school and he came over to enjoy me in the carnal sense didn’t much matter. I had a son and the son came first and whether he fucked me in my mother’s house didn’t matter.
At seventeen I was eligible for marriage. Marriage wasn’t his idea. He didn’t want to be tied to one girl. He needed his freedom, his wings to see what else was out there. We got married anyway, because of the child support and by then my uncle was involved with the shotgun. His wings clipped, and walking around the mall with a girl and a stroller and a big baby bump wasn’t exactly what other girls found sexy. I did what I had to do, at least where I grew up in Georgia. Tie the sucker down with babies. He did get in the pants of the radio dispatcher, but she had birth control and that saved her.
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