I continue to move my hips slowly. It's a strange sensation; I've never had such a hard time adjusting. This makes me look down to see if you're noticing it too, and I see you squeezing your eyes shut in pain.

"Oh my God, am I hurting you? What's wrong? Love?" I stop moving instantly, and when I look down, I see the sheets stained with blood. It can't be… "Don't tell me this is your first time".

We've been dating for three months, and you always put off the moment of intimacy, of being together in bed. I didn't give it much thought, nor did I want to force you to do anything you didn't want to do. I just thought you'd want to make it special.

Today we had one of those days that end in a heated exchange, and just when I thought you were going to stop me, you started taking off my clothes. Obviously, I wasn't going to say no to the opportunity, but I would have preferred if you had told me it was your first time. We could have taken it more calmly and more seriously, and now I feel terrible.

"Baby... why haven't you told me anything?" I move to the side and cover your body with the sheets.