Me too

Me, too...

I don't remember his name. And I certainly didn't imagine that the first time anyone would get inside of me would have gone down this way. But the smell, his stench, that I do recall. Every so often, it still hits me full force, accompanied by the involuntary contraction of all orifices. I guess that last bit is some sort of lame attempt at inviolability.  

He was a visiting Sigma Nu from a campus nearby. We danced, then went out back to make out. He asked if we could explore campus. We decided to climb a dilapidated old fence to get out of the back yard-I remember being surprised it didn't crumble under the weight of the ascent. Much later, I would wonder if maybe it all could have been avoided if it had only given way. Maybe the alternative storyline of the night would have ended with a rusty nail in the balls on the way down.

But I digress.

I guess the view from below of me climbing that fence in a short skirt was just too much. I suppose I was asking for it. When he landed in the alley on the other side, he pushed me up against it, raised my skirt to my waist, tore my underwear to the side and shoved his fingers into me. Shocked and recoiling, I somehow mustered
a 'What the fuck...?!' He laughed and stuck them in again, the smell of cheap tequila punch pungent as he pressed into me. 'You knew this is what we were going to do out here...', said while grabbing and forcing my hand onto his crotch.

The next part is somewhat of a blur. I remember fumbling through some excuse about meeting someone while pushing him off and away. I more clearly remember the walk-race home to wash him away. The constant looking back, making sure he wasn't following me.  No matter how much water poured over me that night, the stench of cheap tequila wouldn't scrub off, nor would the side of the 'what the hell was I doing... thinking...expecting?!'  

That night... the night I realized I wasn't even remotely inviolable.