Pre-college days

I was only seventeen the first time that a married man hit on me. It was a guy that I worked with who had a beautiful wife and two adorable children. He occasionally said flirty things to me, but all of the guys at work did, so I never paid any attention to it. One day I came in to work in a really bad mood. He told me that I needed a good roll in the hay. Like always, I just laughed it off. He then turned dead serious with me and told me that he was serious and that if I was interested, he was willing. I told him thanks, but no thanks, that I was not interested, and then asked what his wife would think of that. He hem hawed around a bit and changed the subject and it was never spoke of again. What was really funny was a few weeks later when he learned that I was just seventeen. At that point he had to face the fact that not only was he a jerk for trying to cheat on his wife; he tried to do it with a girl barely more than a child—I wasn’t even out of high school. I still remember it clearly. He was leaning against a table talking and the subject of my age came up. When I told, he literally fell. It was so funny! He later apologized to me for “behaving inappropriately,” to which I replied it was his wife, not me, which he needed to apologize to.

A few months later I started going only a half-day to high school, taking college classes in the evenings. I didn’t have a car, so my dad would drop me off and pick me up each day. A guy in class noticed me waiting every evening to be picked up, so he offered to give me a lift. This worked out well because he passed my street on his way home each evening. He had pictures of his kids hanging of his visor in his truck, so we talked some about his family. He had been married for five years, and had two kids. Things went well for a few weeks and then he started getting flirty with me. I was so naïve that I didn’t think this married college guy could possibly be interested in me, so I didn’t think anything of it. The day of our final we hopped in his truck for the ride home and he told me he needed to make a stop on the way home. We went to a gas station where he picked up a case of beer. Then as we were driving home, he passed by my house and told me that he wasn’t ready for the evening to end—he wanted to celebrate class being over. Remember, I was a high school kid at the time—I still had parents who expected me home at a certain time. I protested, but he kept driving anyways. He took me to this little spot on the river, put on some music, and popped open a couple of beers. He handed me one, but I didn’t actually drink at the time, so I only took a couple of sips. He then told me that he had a confession to make. He started with how I caught his attention the first day of class, and how beautiful he thought I was, even more so since he had got to know me. Then his confession was that he was very attracted to me and would like to keep seeing me even though class was over. I was dumbfounded! When I didn’t immediately reply anything he asked if I would care if he kissed me. Luckily at this point my senses came back to me and I told him no way—he needed to take me home, NOW. I questioned what happened to his wife, and he said that things weren’t going well with her and that he didn’t see them staying together much longer. I wished him the best of luck with her, and told him again to take me home. He finally gave in after being turned down again when he asked me to reconsider his offer. It was one of the most uncomfortable rides of my life, but I did finally get home, and I thankfully haven’t seen him again to this day.