April 11th, 1994. 9:14 P.M.

The ride to the floor, I rested my head against his beating chest. He held me close, I loved the feeling of his strong hands grazing my back. I wished the elevator ride would go on forever, but I'm forced out when it stopped at our level. The hallway spun with unease; my legs were already shaking. His leading hand was the only thing that kept me up straight.

A tremor feeling comes over me when I placed the key inside the door hole, turning it, Steve's hand was readily placed on the wood to push it open. I didn't know if we'd talk for a while, if he'd hold me, or if we'd fall through and not even make it to the bed. As we enter, I closed the door and fell my back against it. He's worried, glancing around at the room, I can it see it on his face, he rubs the back of his neck nervously, then turns to me, "Don't be scared," he breathes, moving a lot closer to me. He's pulling the strings from my dress undone.

It slips from my body; I step out of it and take him over to the bed. I push him down, then fall to my knees, clawing at his pants and shaking my head, "I've never realised how much I wanted this until now." I said, "You're everything I've ever wanted." I was speaking so frantically, I probably didn't understand the words that were coming out of my mouth, "Please..." I plead, wanting him more now.

His arms move under my armpits then lift me up upon his lap. I felt like a small child being hoisted into the air. I collapse onto him, until we're both laying back on the mattress. Slowly, his neck cranes towards me, and our lips met again, so moist, his mouth tasted like red wine. The rest of our clothes soon fell onto the floor, but our mouths never ceased contact. 

He shifts me to bend over the bed, without any warning he thrust himself into me. I clutched onto the sheets, letting a gasp scream out. He wraps my hair around his fist, arching my back up so he can look at me in the eyes, before letting go and pumping into my hips. It wasn't the pain like the first time, but more emotional, except I couldn't cry, only indulge myself with the pleasure. 

He sank deeper into me, drawing a deep moan from the back of my throat. His hair flopped over his eye, as he began a steady pace. I whined, gripping the edge of my mattress even harder, he increased his speed. I threw my head back again, he hissed at the feeling of me twitch as I screamed out. He gives a last hard thrust before falling onto me, then rolling onto his back. I collapsed on the bed, crying out, I scrambled to put my head against a pillow. I breathed into it, clutching the sides but I couldn't force a squeal.

I kicked my feet hard like a small child, again. He's seven years older than me. Nearly my sister's husband. He's about to get married. How can I trust him for the rest their marriage? How will I carry this to my grave?

After a while, I felt the bed move and Steve putting his clothes back on. He was about to leave, but I slouched back up and looked at him. The tusk of my silken hair, laid rest on my bare shoulders. He stopped before the doorknob, knowing he had to say something to me, "You should get washed up, before Amy gets back." He whispers to me, glancing over his shoulder, before leaving the room. I knew that this meant one thing, he didn't love me, not at all. He loved the feeling that came along with me. It wasn't my body, or soul he wanted. It was the youth, and freedom I possessed. Amy lacked that, so was so mature. He wanted something in his life before being married.