Mike Shapiro

9.6 / 10

Votes: 755

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Writer - kiggundu mugerwa
Resume: am so Ugandan...
Writed by: Stephanie Wu; Year: 2019; A Simple Wedding is a movie starring Tara Grammy, Christopher O'Shea, and Shohreh Aghdashloo. A young Iranian-American woman goes to great lengths to appease her parents and their need to see her settled down; scores: 298 votes; Genre: Romance; runtime: 1 hours 28 Min. Download a simple wedding movie. First of all, I just want to say that I am in no way trying to be disrespectful to anyone. This has been bothering me for almost two years now, and I need to get a straight answer; and this is the only place that I believe I can get one. At the time, I was eighteen, had just gone off to college. I downloaded Tinder with my roommate and a few other of my friends, as a solidarity kind of thing. I matched with a guy, we'll call him X. We went to go see a movie that was playing at the student union, and it was as awkward as first dates usually go. He wasn't a bad guy, a little awkward, a little nerdy, but otherwise I didn't get a bad vibe; so a few weeks later we went on a second date, this time for coffee. I remember exactly what I was wearing, down to my hairstyle, the palate of eye shadow I used, what underwear I had on. This date was a little.. Off. On my way there, I had this bad feeling that I couldn't explain. I shrugged it off initially to just date jitters. We got our coffee, and we decided to sit outside by the pond. And then we just kind of talked, well, mostly he talked about his major, about his friends. I felt like I was just a soundboard really. The shirt I had on must have gotten stretched out somehow because it kept slipping off my shoulder a little to show a sneaking glimpse of my bra strap every so often when I shifted my sitting position. Of course he commented on it, and they were rather lewd comments, but I brushed them off; albeit uncomfortably. About an hour passed, and I made a comment about how I had to go back to my dorm in about another hour to pack for a wedding I was invited to that weekend. He said okay, and invited me back to his dorm since the weather was turning a bit chilly and I hadn't thought to bring a jacket. After a moment of hesitance, I had agreed. Which, leads me to believe that the following is my fault. I could have, and should have, said no. I should have just left then and there, should've made up some excuse about my roommate needing me. But I didn't. So I went back with him to his dorm. It was a messy thing, but that made sense considering that he was a college boy bunking with another guy. The longer I was in his dorm, the more that sinking feeling of earlier returned. I had mace. It was hanging on my purse. Not once did I use it. He left to check the mail, and left the front door open a crack. I could've left then. I should've. When he came back, he led to his room under the guise of watching a short movie he thought that I might like, considering on our first date we had gone to see a horror movie. The Quiet Place. (Such a shit movie to be honest). As a film major, I couldn't exactly not say no to a film, and maybe my bad feeling was just nervousness again. So once again I brushed it off. Once in his room, he crashed onto his bed. There was no television, or movie, as you may have guessed. I hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed and questioned about the 'movie'. He sat up and shrugged, as if that was enough of an answer. Then he asked what I wanted to do. I was silent for a moment, and glanced down at my watch, and made a noncommittal noise, mumbling something about having to leave soon. He gave.. smile, if it could even be called that. He closed his eyes and gave what I'm sure he meant was a smile but in reality it looked as though it was a mix between constipation and general pain. When he opened his eyes again, just a heartbeat later but it felt like ages, I gave a strained little half smile back. That's what I was raised to do after all, when someone smiles at you, you smile back. It's basic manners. Then he stood and closed and locked his bedroom door. I felt my heart drop to my stomach and I scooted to the edge of the bed even more, as if to stand; but he crossed the room in just a step and a half. I feel as though here I should note that he was far taller than me. I barely had time to register that he was in front of me when he suddenly shoved me backwards, a sharp breathe of exhale escaping me. Not quite a gasp, but more than just a simple breath. I remember trying to catch myself, and I remember the pain of my hair clip digging into my scalp. I remember his weight on top of me, crushing. And then he collided his lips with mine, and it was painful, as he bit my bottom lip and pulled; his hands having long since pinned mine to the bed. I'm not sure how long really he was on top of me, but he finally rolled off, onto the side of me. It took me a moment to push myself back up, my mouth stinging and my lips throbbing. As soon as I did sit back up, he did the same, and wasted no time in tugging at my belt and belt loops like a child, pouting. I didn't know what else to do. He was taller, clearly stronger. So I stood, and silently, with my hands shaking a little, unbuckled my belt. As soon as I had it unbuckled, he pulled it free from my pants, and nodded to the buttons on my pants themselves. I remember swallowing, and bending down to take off my sandals. As soon as I had done so, he had whacked my own belt against my ass, and I don't think I've ever straightened so fast. All he did was laugh and give that.. smile.. again. He rose to take everything else off of me once my sandals were off. I felt naked in more ways than one. He stared at me for a moment, before shoving me backwards again, taking off his own clothes as he stared down at me. Once he was undressed, once again his weight was on top of me. I wanted to cry. Once again he had my hands pinned. He had his way with me. Using my belt as a restraint, taking me from behind. Using my own underwear as a gag. When he was finally done, I could barely stand. I got out of there as fast as I could; saying whatever he wanted to hear so I could do so unhibited. When I got back to my dorm, I lied to my roommate and said that it had been a nice date. When my mom came to pick me up for the wedding, I wanted to break down in her embrace. I told her about it about a year ago. Told her about the nightmares I had. About how I was terrified to take a shortcut I had found to one of my classes because it was too close to his dorm. Told her about the fear I felt when he showed up at the poetry slam I was performing at. I told her how I didn't want to press charges, as I wanted the whole thing behind me, never wanted to think about it again. She told me that it was my fault. That I was an idiot. Most days, I believe her. I don't know what to call what happened to me. A part of me doesn't want to call it anything; and yet another part needs closure. Again, I didn't write this to offend anyone. I wrote it in hopes of getting answers. [ EDIT] I just wanted to thank you all. It means a lot to finally get a straight answer, to have some kind of closure. It's a huge pill to swallow, but it's a necessary one. I'm not sure if I'm ready for therapy, to open up to someone in that capacity, but I know for my health that I need to. Thank you, again. It was really hard to open up like this and I'm just glad that I've been met with nothing but support and kind words. ?.
Almost missed a new video of yours. D I really like it, keep on going guys.