Do Tampons Take Your Virginity? A Catholic Girl's Memoir by Simas Marie

Author:Simas, Marie [Simas, Marie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Undefined
ISBN: 9781453799758
Publisher: Defiant Press
Published: 2010-09-20T16:00:00+00:00

The Dirty Hug

1989, AGE 16

My father had lots of family living in the Bay Area. My paternal grandmother had nine siblings and many of them emigrated in the seventies and settled in Central California. I never met my father’s parents, but I have a lot of cousins and extended family on Father’s side. I don’t socialize with my father’s side of the family anymore, but when I was a kid, we visited them a lot.

Father had two aunts, Anna and Beatrice. They were identical twins, both redheads. I could never tell them apart. Even now, if I had one of them in front of me, I wouldn’t be able to tell you which one it was.

We visited them often. I was always bored at Aunt Beatrice’s house. Her husband Mario hated my brother and me. Actually, he hated kids in general. Mario yelled at us, and told us not to touch anything. He was such a prick.

I asked my father if I could stay home, but he insisted on dragging me there all the time. Usually, I brought a book when I was forced to go there.

“Dad, please let me stay home. I’m so bored over there.”

“They’re family! Nothing is more important. What are you going to do, sit at home in front of the boob tube?”

Father always referred to TV as the “boob tube.” That’s because our TV was one of the old models with a dial on the front. It had glass tubes inside, which my father replaced often. Very old school.

When I became a teenager, my father continued to take me over to Beatrice’s house. Amazingly, the once-sour Mario started becoming friendlier toward us and hugged my brother and me when we came over. It was nice. He even invited us to watch TV in his bedroom. So we did. It was a respite from the endless boredom of adult chatter in the living room.

Then, when I was sixteen, I went over to Beatrice’s house without my little brother. Father was in the living room and I was watching TV in the bedroom. Mario came into the bedroom and sat down on the bed next to me. He started touching my hair.

Mario was an old man, at least sixty-five. He was thin, dark, bald, and covered with liver spots. He looked like Mr. Burns from The Simpsons. He continued making small talk and eventually he closed the door. Still, I didn’t suspect anything was wrong.

He asked me for a hug. I got up and hugged him. Instead of hugging me, he turned me around. Mario jammed his erection into my butt. He kissed my neck, grabbed my breasts under my shirt, and cupped my vagina. He tried to shove his hand down the front of my pants. I was frozen... what the hell was happening? Wasn’t this asshole related to me?

“Shhhh! Shhhh! Don’t say anything! This is our secret!” Mario whispered, his bony finger pressed to his lips. I heard my father’s laughter in the living room.

I was so shocked, I didn’t say anything.

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