I was sure he'd break me in half.
Luckily, I had great insurance, so everything moved along rather swiftly.
But something weird happened in sixth grade.
Apparently, this was just hilarious, and more people joined in, laughing and calling me a whore.
Keep in mind, this is a 5-foot little girl -- I looked like a toddler playing lumberjack, which is honestly a pretty accurate description of me at every age.
I was up to a C by fifth grade, and a D by the end of the year, and while I stuck out like a huge boob among my peers, it still wasn't that bad.
Why should that be an issue? Sex with him had me feeling so full and it rode that fine and sweet line between pleasure and pain.
I think we just wordlessly agreed that it was something that needed to happen.