[UnitJonas]

****Private Journal Entry******

I’m not sure if I’m going crazy or what, but I’m sure not normal anymore. Why do I keep doing this? A few months ago my only worry was passing a history test but now I have to worry that someone will find out that I had sex with the janitor. Not even one janitor, but two.

Who am I? Who is Morgan? What happened to her?

Today was shit.

I was hoping to put the weekend behind me. Yesterday’s game sucked. I still can’t help but look to the crowd and expect to see Charles and Arthur standing there. And what’s the first thing I see as our bus pulls into school? Squiggy getting out of his car. Everyone yelled out the window to him as we passed. They love to tease him. I wasn’t really looking at him though. I was looking at my bright red panties hanging from his rear-view mirror. A memento for him, a reminder every morning and every evening when he gets into his car the stupid blonde girl that got drunk and passed out on his bed. A reminder to tell that story to any drunk buddy that would listen. Not the full story though. Not that the girl was only in eighth grade but something just as intriguing. And of course he would have to include that she was so horney she even let Lenny the retard got a chance once he was done with her. And the person would want to touch the panties, but he won’t let them. He’ll want to know that the only flesh that touched those panties besides his finger was my bottom. And then he’ll remember that he orgasmed in me twice, once in the front and once, well yeah, I cant even fucking say it.

~sigh~

And then gym class. The first thing I hear is someone yell “I KNOW YOU, I KNOW YOU!!!” and turning to see Lenny standing with his mop and bucket waving madly at me, AT ME! My stomach dropped when I realized it was him. What if he said more? What if he yelled “You are better than Dolly, can we sex again?” I lied to Darsey and the others. I told them he was lost in the hallway the other day and I helped him find his bucket. They all laughed and said mean stuff about him and then even worse they started talking about whether or not a retard ever has sex. They said she would have to be a desperate one-legged ugly prostitute with herpes to even consider it. I fake laughed. I had to. And at that moment it seemed disgusting and I had shivered. But now, in the quiet of my room here I can remember touching him, how big and hard he was. I had guided him to me and then felt it slide through my fingers. And I had orgasmed, hard. I know I was drunk but what is scary is that right now, right this very minute, if I was lying on my bed and he came to the bed, I don’t know what I’d do. Does this make me worse than a desperate one-legged ugly prostitute with herpes? Heh, I’ve already got the prostitute part down pat.

Okay, I admit it. I like the sex. I didn’t at first, it was creepy. Yeah I know I almost had an orgasm like every single time but I think that’s just me. I get so wet so fast it’s actually kinda embarrassing. And I can make myself orgasm almost as fast. Is that what it is? Is that whats making me do these things? Because I am craving orgasms? I don’t know anymore. It seems my reason for any of this, even going back to the webcam, changes every day. If only it wasn’t for that webcam maybe I’d go about this slower, and with someone a little more my age. I mean, yeah, what does like to have orgasms have to do with only being with old men? If only I hadn’t gotten the idea to show myself to Ted. Where the hell did that thought come from?

Okay maybe that’s it. I really didn’t think it could be but maybe that is it, cause you know, Ted wasn’t the first adult to see me naked when they shouldn’t. He wasn’t first at another thing too. But yes, I will have to go through life knowing that the first person I had sex with was Arthur. That will be forever my dirty little secret. But what happened last year didn’t excite me, I’m sure of that, it really only disgusted and embarrassed me.

Maybe it was all Lana’s fault. Two summers ago at soccer camp she introduced me to them, not people, but sports bras and running pants.

It was near the end of summer and I convinced Mom to let me go to soccer camp for a week. She really didn’t mind I know since she was with Richard then, and I know they liked to do it a lot. I mean, Mom was only 17 when she had me so she was only 30 last year when I was 13. She never had and probably will never grow up as she still likes to party hard.

Soccer camp was fun and all but Lana always made fun of me when we did the evening jog. She let me try one of her outfits and I was hooked. I loved the sports bra. Not like I really needed it that much as my boobs were just making themselves known. Not flat or anything but yeah, they were growing and it was annoying to run even with their slight bouncing. It felt great to run in a sportsbra though, no flapping shirt, no nothing. It felt like I was running in a jet stream. So when I got home I bought my first sportsbra and pants.

Then after my first run with them something odd happened. I was all sweaty when I got home and was getting a drink from the fridge when I ran into Richard. And for the first time when talking to an adult I noticed his gaze leave mine and travel downwards. For a moment I knew he was staring at my breasts. No one had ever ‘checked me out’ before. At least I think that’s what he was doing. I felt my whole face flush red and I got out of the kitchen as quick as I could without looking stupid. I went upstairs into the bathroom and looked at myself. I guess I didn’t look too bad, I certainly looked older than I did than in the beginning of the summer. I think my nipples were hard too, something that’s difficult to hide in a sportsbra, but something I never took notice of before.

Richard had always been sort of an ass, well more than sort of, he was an ass. He was a moocher and was just using Mom for sex and shelter before he moved on. That’s the kind of person he was and that’s the kind of person Mom usually latched on to. She liked him because he was a take charge kind of guy with attitude. Stupid biker attitude. He was tall and lanky with graying hair that he put in a stupid ponytail. I could tell he didn’t like me around as it just got in the way of him and my mom.

But it all changed that day. After that he was as nice as could be to me, suddenly interested in soccer an all that. He even took me to the mall and bought me new cleats. He also knew that I jogged the same time everyday, 3pm. That day happened to be on Sunday but during the week no one was home until 5:30 since my Mom would have to give him a ride home from work everyday. Of course he didn’t have a car.

So a few days later I came home from Darsey’s at two, chilled out for a bit and then got ready for my run. I used my new hot red sportsbra and took off. When I got home around 3:30 there was no car in the driveway. Of course there wasn’t as they wouldn’t be home for two more hours. I did feel an odd sensation when I got in the house, a weird sense that someone was there, you know, we all get that chill. I blew it off as I grabbed a drink, went upstairs, stripped off my sweaty outfit and tossed it in the basket. Since no one was home I had no worries about walking naked to the bathroom to shower. Our stupid little house on had one shower, which was in the bathroom across from my Mom’s room. Her door which is almost always closed was cracked open, but I hardly took notice and didn’t even think about until later.

I took a long hot shower and when I got out I had to leave the door wide open to let out the steam so I could see the mirror. I probably took a good 10-15 minutes getting dried and drying my hair in front of the wide open doorway. When I shut off the dryer I had thought I heard something an even stood straight in the doorway, facing my mother’s room, listening for anything. Hearing nothing I eventually went to my room and got dressed.

A few minutes later I went out to check the mail and when I came back in Richard was sitting in the kitchen. When I asked him when he got home he said he was home sick all day but was out back smoking cigarettes the last hour or so. I might have believed him except when I went back upstairs I noticed my mom’s door was now closed. He had been watching me.

I ran to my room, locked the door and almost got sick. I didn’t know if I was mad, embarrassed, disgusted or just paranoid. I think I was all of them. In truth I was just plain horrified that he, Richard the biker, had been watching me the whole time. And it wasn’t for a few seconds. I was naked for a long, long time probably not more than a few feet from him.

That night it got worse as the two of them were louder than ever before. Lying in bed I could still hear them even with my music playing. The worst was the rhythmic banging of her headboard against the wall. The next morning Mom whispered to me, hardly even embarrassed, that Richard was a wild man. She wished she knew what got him so excited so she could do it again. I almost told her right then.

I think at that point I decided to keep things in my head. It’s been nice in a weird way to write things out here, but I know no one will ever read this. For my eyes only, lol.

So, as you can imagine Richard was even nicer to me after that. My mom, of course, loved it noting how nice it was that we were finally getting along so well.

But yeah, Richard saw me naked when I was thirteen.

And I hated it.

I hated his attention to me, always commenting on how nice I looked and that I was really starting to grow up. I mean, how can you deal with something like that knowing he could think of you naked any time he wanted? He knew the exact size of my boobs, how much hair I had down there and that I had a mole on my butt. I mean, he never touched me or anything, he was just creepy nice.

And then he started doing stuff like making us dinner. Mostly crap like mac and cheese. But the most pathetic of all was his famous milkshake movie night. He’d insist on Mom and I to stay in the room while the movie started while he made milkshakes for us. He’d put a chair in front of the door to make sure we could steal his patented mixing slash shaking method. I’ll admit that they were pretty good and he always served me mine first. It kind of creeped me out that he would watch me drink, making sure I finished every drop. We did this every Sunday night for three months until one time when Mom snuck around the house and peeked into the kitchen window.

Within an hour Richard was gone from our lives. I had no idea what happened but knew it was something to do with what was going on in the kitchen. She wouldn’t tell me but kept apologizing to me over and over for nothing in particular. She even took me in for a physical after that with a few blood tests. I was totally confused. I remember peeking at my chart as I was worried I might be sick with cancer or something. The only thing that seemed odd was the mention of oral sex. I had no idea what was going on but heard her tell them that I wouldn’t need to talk to a therapist or anything.

I feel as stupid as can be in the fact that this is just dawning on me now. Richard was doing what Ted had done to me. He was masturbating into my milkshake and watching me drink it. For three months, a dozen times, I drank his sperm. Every last drop, just as he insisted.

Okay, ‘sperm’ sounds dumb. Those are only the tiny swimmy things. It’s called ‘come’. That’s all of it.

I still don’t get it. It’s not like Richard put his penis in my mouth. He only put his come in my drink. The fact that it ended up in my stomach seems…oh I don’t know. I guess its all in the mind. Do men imagine they’re having sex with one person while actually having sex with another? Did Richard imagine my mother was me that night?

Probably the funniest, or maybe saddest, thing is that a year ago I would have been devastated if I had found out what Richard had done. I am actually glad Mom kept it from me. I’d probably be in therapy for life. But now?

What does last year have to do with this year? Did those events slowly sink into my subconscious? Did drinking all those come milkshakes do anything to me? Ridiculous, but you never know what does what to what.

I wish I could say I wouldn’t do anything stupid again. I know it’s only a phase. Oh God, let it only be a phase.

After today I realize how stupid it was to do the Squiggy thing. If I do something again (geez, am already admitting I will) it will have to be further away from here.

No, I need to stop. What if I get herpes or, or. Can you imagine if Lenny got me pregnant?

Okay, I’m done rambling. I’ve been writing for almost an hour. I’m tired and have school tomorrow. Yeah, like I cant wait to see my panties dangling from his rear view mirror again.

I still can’t believe I had sex with Lenny and Squiggy. There is no rationalization in the world for that.

Still, I can’t believe how wet I am right now. 8*O

‘nite