"Please, stop pushing. I can't take this anymore."

The concert venue is packed tight. A man behind me keeps pressing into my backside.

I'm wearing a mini skirt today with a thong underneath, and it only makes the situation worse. He lifts my skirt and presses himself against my hips.

As the atmosphere heats up, someone in front of me slams into me, and I stumble back a step.

My body stiffens as I feel like something just slid inside me.

My name was Mandy Cox, and I was a die-hard fangirl.

I wanted a celebrity to notice me, so I dressed for attention. I wore heavy makeup and made sure nothing about me went unnoticed.

My low-cut top revealed a wide stretch of skin, and my chest bounced with every step. I paired it with a mini skirt that barely covered my thighs and sexy white stockings which hugged my legs.

But when I arrived, reality hit. The concert venue was packed so tightly I couldn't move, and the crowd swallowed me whole. The celebrity was never going to notice me.

I craned my neck and shouted, "Darling, take me!"

I never imagined that line would draw the wrong kind of attention. Instead of the celebrity, it caught a filthy creep.

After I shouted it, I became aware of a man behind me, repeatedly bumping into me.

At first, I brushed it off. In a crowd that dense, accidental contact was easy to explain. But the feeling wouldn't go away. Something hard kept pressing against my butt from behind.

I assumed I'd accidentally backed into his hand where it rested behind me, so I turned and offered a polite apology. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you."

He paused, then flashed a leering smile and said, "It's okay. I don't mind."

When I turned back toward the stage, I felt him press against me again, more deliberate than before. I kept my attention on the celebrity onstage and shut him out.

The man became increasingly brazen, pulling up my skirt and pressing close against my backside. I had only a thong on underneath, which left my butt exposed.

I felt his touch directly against my skin and assumed it was his finger. Only then did I realize something was wrong. The pressure was warm and solid in a way a finger could never be.

My mind lurched as the truth hit me.

In the 20 years of my life, this was the first time a man had ever molested me. Fear surged through me, sharp and overwhelming, and my body reacted with an instinct to flee.

But there was no way to move. The concert floor was packed wall to wall, leaving me stuck where I stood.

I drew myself tight, bracing as if tension alone could keep the fear out. As I did, my hips closed around the man's so-called "finger", trapping it between my cheeks.

An unfamiliar sensation followed, and warmth rose to my face.

What confused me was that I didn't recoil from it. There was a muted comfort to it, and against my will, it sparked a faint sense of expectation.

The man behind me seemed to take it as a signal. He moved in closer, repeating the motion until the intrusion was unmistakable.

I had lived a sheltered life as a college student, and now I was being toyed with by a stranger while surrounded by people.

Shame surged within me without warning. I felt the urge to sob, but my throat closed, and my voice deserted me.

Worse still, the pressure forced my thong inward and sent a restless, prickling discomfort through my body that wouldn't fade.

A quiet, involuntary sound escaped me, and the embarrassment followed instantly. I gathered myself and strained to suppress it, holding it down until my throat tightened.

The blaring music and the screams around me drowned everything out. With every eye fixed on the stage, no one was aware of what was happening to me.

At the same time, the intensity continued to rise, touching something deep inside me.

I bit down on my lip as cold sweat traced my spine. My awareness was tipping back and forth between humiliation and a pleasure I couldn't bring myself to name.

I knew I couldn't take it anymore if it continued.

So, I turned sharply to face the man behind me. "Please, stop pushing. I can't take this anymore."

When I finished speaking, the man leaned toward me and whispered in my ear, "Is it exciting, the way I'm pushing against you?"

The shame was overwhelming, and I was on the verge of crying. "I'm a virgin. I've never done that kind of thing. Please, let me go."

He didn't stop. Instead, his gaze burned deeper as he seized my waist, the pressure growing stronger.

"You're really a virgin? Then let me show you what it feels like to be a woman."

For reasons I couldn't explain, his words didn't spark resistance right away. They stirred an expectancy instead. I wondered what was wrong with me.

I'd explored my body in private, only to find the experience empty and unfulfilling. Sometimes, I even wished for a man to ease that discomfort, but never under circumstances like these.

He kept pushing forward, the insistence of his body driving hard against my thong. The fabric was already forced inward.

My thong offered almost no barrier, and his warmth was unmistakable. Sensation rose in slow waves, moving through my body and leaving my limbs unsteady.

Fear and anticipation twisted together inside me, my resolve rocking between them.

He approached without haste, holding me from behind as his hands moved from my waist to my chest. The pressure of his touch intensified everything.

I felt myself grow weak, as though my body were yielding to it.

It was the first time a man had touched me in this way, and the first time my body reacted without my understanding. The pleasure rose gradually, wearing down my resistance as it spread.

Then he released me.

I had been giving in to the sensation, and the instant his hands were gone, I felt empty and laid bare.

Moments later, his hand traveled lower, sliding under my skirt. He pinched the edge of my thong and gently pulled it aside. In an instant, the most private part of me was left open to the air.

"No, no, please don't," I blurted out.

He continued to caress my butt with his hands, intentionally provoking my body. "I know. When women say no, they mean yes."

I barely dared to breathe, knowing that the way he was holding me meant he could enter me at any moment. I clenched my body tight, sealing myself off, or he'd have an opening to force his way in.

The man stayed calm. He hooked his finger and teased me there with slow, deliberate movements. The sensation drove inward, so intense it nearly shattered my control.

He raised his finger between us, examined the dampness on it, and said, "Stop pretending. Anyone who wears panties like this is obviously open. Look at you. You are already wet. Stop forcing yourself.

"Let go and feel what being a woman is like."

The humiliation deepened until I felt completely exposed.

"You are going too far. Aren't you afraid I will call for help?"

He showed no fear. If anything, he seemed energized by it.

"Go ahead. You could scream until you lose your voice, and no one would notice."

He was right. The noise in the venue was overwhelming, and even with his mouth close to my ear, his words were hard to catch.

Panic and shame tangled inside me as my body started to betray my will, the tension I was holding starting to ease.

Just then, a wash of light from the stage spilled over us, and our figures filled the giant screen. The man pressed himself against me and wrapped his arms around my body.

To anyone watching, we looked like a couple.

Even the celebrity onstage played along. "Wow, our camera just caught a couple in the crowd!"

The man used the moment to kiss my cheek, and a small wave of excitement rippled through the audience.

My face burned with embarrassment.

When the camera finally moved on, I couldn't hold it back anymore. "You are out of your mind! All those people were looking at us."

He simply smirked and brushed a kiss against my ear. "Everyone thinks we are a couple now. You might as well go along with it."

My ears had always been the most sensitive part of my body , and when he kissed me there, my resistance faltered. The tension in my hips began to loosen, and he immediately took advantage of it, pressing forward.

Heat flared through me, and I clenched down instinctively, holding my body tight around him and preventing him from moving any farther.

We were caught in a silent struggle. He clearly had the upper hand, advancing little by little until he reached my most sensitive point.

I knew that if it continued, I'd lose my first time to him, and I couldn't accept that from a man I didn't even know.

Panic drove me to action, and I pinched his thigh with all my strength. He reacted at once and released me.

I barely had time to draw a breath when the crowd suddenly shifted. People all around me began jumping in time with the music.

Someone ahead of me stumbled and collided with me, forcing me backward. I tensed without thinking.

Then, a strange sensation surged up inside me, hot and unrelenting.

My eyes widened.

Oh no. It had already gone in.