Does it count or not ?

The first time I met him, I immediately developed a crush on him. We hung out with the same people so eventually we sort of became friends as well. A couple weeks later we were both invited to the same party and it was a lot of fun. We got really drunk and high. We flirted with each other the whole night and everything felt right. At some point in the very early morning hours all the others went to bed but we decided to stay up for a bit longer. We just talked some more and I was sitting on his lap. Eventually we went to bed as well. We slept in the same bed but nothing happened other than him slightly holding me. 

My crush on him got a little bigger then, if that was even possible. He lived very far away from me so we never saw each other, but we still texted. We talked about pretty much everything. From music, school, hobbies, fears, future plans to how badly we wanted to have sex with each other. At some point we made a deal, saying that the next time we would see each other we would do it. This little group of ours came together again and I was sure that it would happen. I remember this party to be lots of fun and laughter. We got terribly drunk and at some point we made out. It was time to go upstairs. The others already knew that we would be having sex . For some reason I had completely sobered up once we were in the bedroom. I still wanted to go through with it though so I took my clothes off, but he never did. He kissed me, starting on my lips and then moving further down on my body. It felt alright I guess. At some point though he became more demanding, aggressively wanting me to climax but I never did and I never stopped him from trying. He inserted his finger into my body, trying it this way and then adding two or three fingers. All I can remember is how much it hurt and how much I regretted that I had agreed to this. 

I am not sure for how long that went on like this but as it did it got harder for me to breath normally. At one point my legs and arms went numb and I started to hyperventilate. I slowly pushed him off of me and told him that there was something wrong. He laughed at me telling me that heavy breathing is just part of an orgasm and that finally we would be getting somewhere with this. My body soon relaxed and he continued. He alternated between kissing my lips and kissing me between my thighs. I tried to keep him up as long as possible so the pain could go away before he goes back down. It sort of worked and he started sucking and biting on my lips a bit too forceful. I dreaded the moment he would decide to put his head back down so I let him bite me until I could taste my own blood. After that he never came up again and I could not stop crying. I just laid there completely frozen with tears streaming down my face hoping that it would be over soon. I guess he sensed that IT was not going to happen and he told me that he would try for another twenty minutes and then just go to bed. Those were the longest twenty minutes of my life and the moment I heard the church bells ring outside I knew that it was finally over. He took off his pants, wrapped his arm around me and went to sleep. 

I did not sleep a minute that night, but if felt somewhat comforting to lie in someone's arms and I thought that in order to receive this kind of affection ever again I would have to get through the first part too. The next morning was akward and we didn't really talk that much and never did again after that. My lip was swollen for almost a week, getting me all sorts of comments of just how hot and wild my night has been. What they did not see was how bruised the insides of my thighs were. What they did not know was how hurt I was. I never told anyone what exactly happened that night because quite frankly I felt ashamed. I wanted to do this and even though I changed my mind within I never told him or try to stop him either. I did not know how. Technically we also didn't have sex that night and it also wasn't the first time I had done something like that but in that moment it felt wrong and I wished for it to stop. I was scared for a long time that he would make fun of me for backing out but because we never talked again he also never mentioned it and neither did I for that matter. I simply labelled that night as me being too scared to have sex and therefore being to embarrassed to tell anyone but I never thought about it in terms of sexual assault. 

But today, after three years, I woke up and I did think about it in said terms. I still can't answer it. Does it count? Or do I still have to blame myself for how it ended? Because his penis never touched my body. I never said no nor did I try to stop him. I even was determined to have sex that

night. Yet my body was in severe pain during and the days after. I almost lost consciousness more than once. I felt paralyzed and unable to move. And I cried until he finally gave up.

Author's Note

This is not only the first time that I am telling anyone this but also the first time I ever wrote anything like this. Also english is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes. I do, however, would like to know if it was my fault but please be kind. xx