The first time I had sex, yep, I remember, although it is something I would like to forget. So there I was, 14 years old and in a “real relationship” with my boyfriend (When you’re 14 and in a relationship for 6 months, that’s “forever”). So we decided that it was time to do the deed. We were responsible about it; we talked about it and we waited for a bit. My friend and her older sister (who was friends with my boyfriend) were having a party. Perfect… I could tell my parents that I was sleeping over at Diana’s house. It wasn’t exactly lying; it just wasn’t telling the whole truth.
So there we were – young, drunk and in love; it was time. We picked a dark room upstairs, found the bed and starting making out. I have to admit, he was a nice guy; he asked if this was going to be it and I answered ‘yes’. He had a condom and we were ready! He even made sure I was ok at the beginning and during; like I said… nice guy.
What I remember about the feeling of the first time was: OUCH! It wasn’t pleasant. I just kept thinking “this can’t be it; this isn’t what I heard and read about... we must not be doing it right. It must get better, just wait!” It didn’t get better – it got worse. When it was over, which was quickly, I wondered if I bled. I heard that the first time when your “cheery gets popped” you bleed. I didn’t feel anything “pop” so I put my hands down there to feel around. It was wet everywhere and slimy. Yuck! He didn’t seem to notice. He wanted to get up and get a drink, so I said that was ok and I’d get cleaned up and meet him downstairs. I had to stay and see what happened without him being there. When I heard him walk down the stairs, I jumped up, shut the door and began searching for the light switch. I found it, turned it on and saw what looked like a horrific murder scene! Brownish-red blood was everywhere; all over the sheets, all over me and worse, all over the mattress. I looked around and quickly realized that we were in my friend’s sister’s room. I totally just stained her sister’s bed with my ‘first time’ blood and fluids. Oh, shit! I was mortified.
My first instinct was to hide the evidence. I used the already disgusting sheets to clean myself up, got dressed and went into the hall in search of the linen closet. The whole time I was worrying that if anyone was to come upstairs, what would I say? I was scared and my heart was pounding. So I began to strip the bed; it was saturated. I thought if I were to flip the mattress that maybe no one would notice! I couldn’t flip it - that didn’t work. I decided to soak up as much as I could with the old sheets and some towels and then I remade the bed. It looked like nothing happened on the surface; it was a perfectly clean and tidy room, except for the heap of bloody towels and sheets in the corner. I couldn’t find the damn laundry hamper.
I had to leave; I couldn’t take the guilt any longer. My boyfriend was also probably wondering where the hell I was, so off I went. I was expecting to walk into a room with everyone looking at me and whispering. Thank god that wasn’t the case! The party was going on as normal; everyone doing their own thing. My boyfriend and his friends were in the pool, so I knew that they probably knew by now. I told my close friends, but left out the bloody details, literally. I never told anyone about the gory aftermath. I went home early the next morning, as to avoid the sister at all cost. I don’t think I could have hidden my guilt if she asked anyone what happened. I hoped she found somewhere else to sleep that night.
To this day, I am SO sorry for the mess I left. Come on! I was only 14, but even still, I’m profoundly sorry for tainting your sister’s childhood room.