Starting off I will tell you that I am currently 16. Everything that I am about to tell you, happened no more than a year ago right after I turned 15.
A few months after I turned 15, I started talking to this guy who had just turned 19. We talked forever it seemed and then he eventually asked me out. I fell for him hard. He was everything I could ever ask for. He was my best friend and boyfriend. He helped me through the hardest times and I never thought he could do anything like this.
I had one other boyfriend before him and the most I had ever done was make-out. One night I was hanging out with him and two of his friends. We were all watching a movie when he brought up sex. He knew I was a virgin and he said he respected that, but for some reason he would not leave it alone. He kept saying, 'If you don't want to have sex, then why not just give me a blow job?' He just kept asking and asking and I, being the softie that I am, gave into him. We went into the bathroom and he pulled his pants down and forced me upon him. I had no clue what I was doing and I was scared to death. After about 20 minutes of me sitting there crying and asking to stop, he released my head and pulled his pants up. He told me it would be alright and all.
Two weeks later, he again brought up the sex subject. He begged and begged me to let him be 'my first'. He would not let up. We were lying on his bed and he proceeded to kiss me. We kissed for a good while and then he pulls out a condom. He begs and begs and I finally just let him. The pain was horrible, but I dealt with it. This time right here was pressured, but consensual.
Here comes the hard part. One week later, I was hanging out with just him for the entire day. We were at his house watching movies. Everything was fine until he starts touching me and just not letting up. He kept asking me for it and I kept saying no. After a while I gave in. He started to penetrate me and after a few minutes he started to get extremely rough, that's when I started screaming for him to stop. He just looked at me, cut the music up even louder, and went about finishing his deed. I cried the entire time, I screamed. The music just got louder and he just got rougher. After about 30 minutes he finally got done. I acted like I was alright for the rest of the night, but deep down inside I just wanted to curl up and die. Anyways, he took me home and I went into my bathroom and I showered for nearly two hours. My mom was asleep so she didn't notice.
Few weeks later, my grandmother guessed something was wrong and she told my mother. That is when I finally told her what had happened. The guy who did this is getting in trouble. He IS going to jail, but I can't help but still blame myself. For the age, maybe I could have said no more, pushed him off harder. Even though people tell me everyday that it wasn't my fault, there is still that little bit of doubt in the back of my mind.