Jailbait

For two years of my life I was something of a lost soul.  That may be a bit melodramatic, but then it feels somewhat appropriate.  I had been fucked.  After we fucked Paul and I made a vow that it would never happen again.  (We would break that vow but not until I was fifteen years old.)  For the first time in my life I had the basic rudiments of understanding as to the importance of boy parts and girl parts. Maybe more importantly  I learned that not having girl parts did not necessarily mean a boy could not still know me a girl.

To put this in some context, I had heard something about boys who liked other boys.  I knew and yet did not know that they still had sex and that it was a different kind of sex.   I had even heard terms such as 'butt fucker' and 'faggot' and 'fudge packer'.  I heard other names that were directed at me.  While I knew the terms, I did not always understand how they translated into the real world.  So during this time, I came to see my relationship with boys largely being one of smiles and hugs and kisses -- not certain that it could ever go beyond that.

Then Paul fucked me and my understanding of the world changed.

I turned eleven about two months later.  Translation most of the boys I knew were around the age of eleven. They were not of an age when they were even thinking about sex with girls despite the jokes and chest-thumping they may do in shower rooms.  And  the boys who were thinking about sex were older than me.  Generally speaking they were much older than me.  They were old enough that to them I would have been nothing more than jail bait.

Whether or not a girl is or is not a sex partner, if she is eleven years old, she is still jail bait.  The same can be said for being twelve and thirteen and . . .   Well, you get the point.

So here I am a girl of eleven who has just learned that she can be fucked.  I am a girl who wants to be fucked.  It is a strong testament to Paul's character that despite his one act of weakness, he would resist my sexual invitations for two years.  (It would be five years before we would fuck a second time, but he did not turn down a blowjob when he had the chance two years later.)

My efforts to get Paul to fuck me a second time were not less futile than my efforts to get any boy to fuck me during these years.  Jail bait is a young girl who should not be fucked.  She is also a young girl who wants to be fucked.  I was that girl.  I simply could not find any boy who had both the desire and the willingness to fuck me no matter how many times I invited them to do so.

In the weeks leading up to the night Paul fucked me, I had been something of a temptress.  I did not know whether or not a boy could fuck me, but I sensed that Paul knew more than I did and I sent out messages that if he ever wanted to, I would be willing.  Not that I knew exactly what 'wanting to' meant.

Whether it be name-calling to my face or loud whispering behind my back, I started to hear one name quite often.  Those outside my immediate circle of friends seemed to get considerable pleasure out of calling me a 'cocksucker' or other terms of that ilk.  When I hooked up with Jon, it was not long before he had be giving him hand jobs.  Then one day in the park, he suggested we take a walk into the woods as we commonly did when we wanted to make out.  On this day he had me suck his cock.