This web site contains stories of physical, mental, emotional, and sexual child abuse.

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"Are you sure this is what you want? Being raised in a orphanage has not prepared you for a normal family life. Is this going to make you happy?" asked Mrs. Usher, my foster mother.

"I guess?" I answered.

"Marriage is an important step in everyone's life," she told me.

I was sixteen years old and the girl I was going to marry was only fourteen. I had gone to ask Mrs. Usher if she would drive Judy and I to Georgia so we could be married. We talked for several hours and she finally agreed.

The next day the three of us headed to Folkston, Georgia. Within hours, Judy and I were married, and returned to our small, wooden house located on Old Kings Road in Jacksonville, Florida.

Judy cooked a nice meal and we settled down to watch a little television. About eleven o'clock Judy stood up and looked at me. "I guess it's time to go to bed." She walked over and turned off the TV.

I just sat there looking at her.

Judy and I had dated for about six months. I had always conducted myself as a gentleman. Nothing sexual had ever happened between us. Our relationship was nothing more than a kiss and holding one another's hand. The truth be known, is that I had never been with a woman before.

She turned, walked toward the bedroom, and closed the door. I continued to sit on the couch; I could hear the shower water running in the bathroom.

"What am I supposed to do?" I thought to myself.

Even though Id never had sex before, I knew very well what was involved in the act itself. I had heard a lot about that kind of thing from friends who had "done it" before. However, what I did not know was how to initiate the process. All I knew about sex was written on the bathroom walls at school. The orphanage where I lived would have beaten us boys half to death if we even looked at a girl.

All at once, Judy came walking into the living room in her nightgown. "Are you coming to bed with me?" she asked.

I rose from the couch and followed her into the bedroom. She walked over and she sat down on her side of the bed. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing is wrong. Really it's not."

I walked to the dresser, took out a clean pair of pajamas, walked into the bathroom, and closed the door. I stepped up to the sink and looked at myself in the mirror.

"What are you going to do?" I asked myself in a low voice.

I was so scared that even my cheeks were quivering. I turned on the shower, stepped into the tub, and closed the shower curtain. All at once, the bathroom door opened. "Is that you?" I asked, as I tried to cover myself with the washrag.

"I have to use the bathroom," she said.

I said not a word as I heard her using the toilet. I had never thought about girls having to use the bathroom before. "I wonder why I never thought about that?" I thought to myself.

After she left, I sat down in the tub and let the warm water run over my head for a long period of time.

"Roger, are you coming out?"

I knew the time was near and I had never been so scared in all my life. All that I could think about was the orphanage matrons constantly telling us boys what perverts we were for having thoughts about girls.

"Dear God. Why did I do this married thing?" I mumbled to myself.

I dried myself off and put on my pajamas. Slowly, I walked into the bedroom and sat down on the side of the bed. I looked over at Judy who was covered with the sheet and blanket. "Judy, I'm really scared and I don't know what to do," I said, as tears started rolling down my cheeks.

She reached over and she took my hand in hers.

"Can we watch TV just for tonight? Please?" I asked her.

We left the bedroom and walked back into the living room. We watched TV in each other's arms, until we fell asleep together on the couch.

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