My Rapist
This story is © 2003 by
Andrew Wiggin and is not to be reprinted without the expressed written consent
of the author. It contains sexual
situations that are to be read by readers above the legal age of consent.
Chapter
1
My
husband and I have made a fairly good life for ourselves. We’ve worked hard, saved as much as we could,
and lived within our means. Both of us are
professionals, so our combined incomes add up to a tidy sum. After ten years of marriage we managed to buy
a house on the beach on the Outer Banks.
Whenever we can we drop everything, even if only for a weekend, and go
to the beach. It’s wonderful.
We
had our son Jason when we were still in college. Pure luck, he was born in the middle of the
summer, so I didn’t even have to miss any classes. I graduated on schedule, with a ready-made
family. We’ve had a good life.
Jason
is now a sophomore in college. That
should make us seem old, I guess, but I’m only 37 and don’t feel old. In fact, I still look and feel pretty darn good,
thank you very much.
As always, this summer has been
a hodgepodge of trips to the beach for a weekend or a week. Because I’ve been in the same job almost
since college, I’ve built up quite a lot of vacation time. I always have two weeks more vacation than
Dan, my husband. And I don’t feel a bit
guilty about taking that vacation at the beach, while he’s home working his
butt off.
I just love the beach. Our house isn’t spectacular; just a two
bedroom bungalow with a combined dining room-kitchen and a den downstairs. But we have a wonderful enclosed porch that
runs around the half of the house facing the ocean. We can open it up when it’s
nice, or keep the screens closed if the bugs are biting. We sit out with a glass of wine, listen to
the waves and watch the stars. Did I
mention our house sits right on the beach?
This
year Jason stayed at the beach all summer and worked as a lifeguard. Towards the end of the summer Jason invited
his college roommate to visit him and spend the last couple weeks of the summer
there. Jason would quit his job a little
early and they could spend the time together.
I had met Tommy once or twice
the previous year. They weren’t
roommates then, but had become best friends as freshmen and decided to room
together as sophomores. Tommy was on the
college swim team. That’s how he met
Jason. We met Tommy when we watched
several of the swimming meets. They
aren’t competitors on the team, since Jason is a sprinter and Tommy swims
distance races. They are both very good,
as far as I can tell.
It
happened that I planned to spend the second two weeks in August at the beach
house. I needed to lie in the sun and
bake my tension away. Dan couldn’t get
away, so it was just me and the two boys.
We led separate existences there.
I lived my little life, bathing and sun-bathing, sipping wine in the
evenings, and enjoying the quiet. Jason
and Tommy swam and surfed during the day and bar-hopped at night. They spent very little time at the beach
house, which was fine with me. I was
there to chill out.
My
one concession to being a mother during the vacation was that I would make the
boys breakfast if they were up when I was making breakfast, and dinner if they
were willing to eat the healthy things that I preferred.
One day late in the first week
Jason was up early enough that I was willing to make him breakfast before I
went for my jog on the beach. I asked
him what his plans were for the day (not prying, I just was making polite
conversation). He told me that they were
going for a little road trip to a beach further north and might not be back
till very late.
That was fine with me. Although we were studiously avoiding each
other in the interests of having our own space, I still looked forward to
having the house to myself for the whole day.
I
jogged about five miles, then came home and changed into my swim suit. As I padded down the stairs of our porch and
strolled onto the beach, I could see that the trunk of Jason’s car was open. The boys must be getting ready to leave, I
thought.
I lay on the beach for hours,
it seemed. Occasionally when I was too
warm I would wade into the water to cool off.
But then I’d be back on my towel, letting the sun just melt that tension
right out of my body. I felt so relaxed
and peaceful.
When the sun got high in the
sky and the temperature started to soar, I decided to call it a morning. I went back to the beach house.
We have an outside shower so we
can clean off before we come into the house.
Ours is a very well enclosed shower, so there is no fear that anyone on
the beach or on the street can see you.
The only thing I don’t like
about the beach is getting sand in your swimsuit. When it gets in the bottom of my bikini, it’s
so uncomfortable that when I’m through bathing I am eager to get out of my
suit.
I took off my suit, and took a thoroughly
enjoyable shower under my house. When
all the salt and sand were off of me, I wrapped myself in a towel and climbed
up to the porch and then into the house.
I felt so good.
I threw the towel into the hamper we keep by
the door for just that purpose and strolled through the house in the nude,
which is my favorite way to be when I’m alone.
I decided I had better get dressed, since I really couldn’t be sure when
the boys would be getting home. I
wouldn’t want to shock my son, Jason.
He might be most shocked that I
have no pubic hair. I keep myself
totally shaved. Dan liked it that way
nineteen years ago, and I still like the way it feels when he licks me there. And
just knowing I’m shaved there still gives me a bit of a thrill. Anyway, this isn’t the kind of information a
son wants to find out about his mother.
To Jason, I’ve always been this
conservative swimming mom type who tries never to embarrass him by being either
too sexy or too dowdy. He wants to
believe that of me, and I’ve let him believe it.
He’ll never know that his
mother loves sex. He’ll never know that
his mother has a rich fantasy life. Sometimes
she dreams of showing herself off to strange men; even to strange women. He’ll never know that his mother masturbates
almost every day of her life.
They say that women are at
their sexual peak at a certain age – my age!
It’s one of God’s little jokes that most men reach their sexual peak in
their teens after which they are on the slippery slope down to no peak at all.
Unfortunately, Dan is like most
men. He’s content with a once-a-week
session of affectionate touching followed by brief but frenzied
lovemaking. Just as I’m getting started,
Dan is starting to snore.
I love him, and he’s a good
lover, he just lacks a little of his youthful stamina. My life is good enough over-all that I am
more than willing to accept a less than perfect sex life. If I’m not getting enough from Dan, I just
finger myself to completion. That‘s
enough for me to be happy. Still, I have
my little fantasies. They’re what fuel
my rich masturbatory life.
I
was padding through the house totally naked.
The house was totally
quiet. I walked into my bedroom eagerly
anticipating a self-inflicted orgasm of the nastiest kind. What I saw stopped me in my tracks with my
mouth and my eyes wide open.
Tommy was lying on my bed totally nude using a pair
of my panties wrapped around
his organ to masturbate with. He was
large. I mean he was very large,
especially when compared to Dan (which is the only comparison I can make, to be
honest). And he seemed to be on the
verge of ejaculating!
When I saw him in that position
I gasped. That was the first time Tommy
was aware of my presence. His eyes
opened and his head turned toward me. He
knew he had been caught!
Then he saw me. His eyes went to my breasts. His mouth opened in surprise, but I saw that
his hand kept rubbing his penis. Then he looked further down to see my
pussy. He saw it was shaved! His hand was pistoning his cock, his eyes
locked onto my cunt and he began to shoot gobs of come, up into the air, then
down onto his chest and stomach.
He was moaning and beating his
cock and staring at my pussy. And I
didn’t know what to do. Was I supposed
to be angry? I’m not his mother, and
he’s an adult anyway. He can do whatever
he wants. Maybe he shouldn’t be on my
bed. Maybe he shouldn’t be using my
panties. MY PANTIES!? Why was he using my panties to masturbate
with?
My God! It finally occurred to me that I was standing
in front of this boy totally naked. He
was finally over his climax, but his eyes never left my body, and he continued
to massage his member. It seemed to be
somewhat softer, but even then it was still bigger than my Dan’s when fully
inflated.
I couldn’t help but look at
it. It was just so very
interesting. Tommy had come to his
senses enough to be thoroughly embarrassed.
His face became beet red and he grabbed a pillow and put it over his
midsection.
I was embarrassed, but mostly I
was shocked. I wasn’t ‘shocked, shocked’
like Claude Rains in
1.
I thought I was alone in the house. I didn’t expect to see anyone, least of all a
naked (and might I add gorgeous) man
2.
I had only seen one penis before in my life (in
person) not including my son’s which doesn’t count.
3.
I never saw a man masturbate. Even Dan had never done that in front of me.
4.
I never saw a man come before.
5.
No man except my husband had ever seen me naked.
6.
Although intellectually I knew that a man’s cock
could be large, the reality of the size, the enormity of presence of a large
cock had never hit me before I saw Tommy’s monster.
It was the shock most of all that made me stand
there and stare as that young man abused himself in front of me. And yes, I suppose my nakedness may well have
contributed to the intensity of the boy’s orgasm. At least I hope so.
I
knew that I was in the middle of a difficult situation. Was I supposed to run out of the room like an
immature teenager? I saw no logic in
that. I reached into my closet and
grabbed a light robe and covered myself.
Unlike all men, and like all
women, I knew the only thing to be done was to deal with the situation right
now. I could tell Tommy wanted nothing
more than to run off to his room and sink under his covers for the rest of his
life. I knew I had to try to lighten the
blow of this public humiliation. After
all, who was hurt?
“Tommy, I’m so sorry for walking in on you. I wasn’t sneaking up on you. I didn’t even know you were home. I thought that you and Jason went on a road
trip.”
Tommy
stared at the pillow sitting on top of that monster cock. He was too embarrassed to look at me.
He said, “Jason wanted to spend the day with
this girl we met last night at a bar.
She lives in Duck. I didn’t see
any reason I should go along. I would
have been in the way.”
I
sat down on the bed beside him. The robe
I had grabbed was short, only a few inches down my leg, and very lightweight. I had quickly and carelessly wrapped it
around myself, but when I sat on the bed I sensed the robe had gapped a little,
as I felt cool air playing on my breasts.
I tried to tighten the robe up,
to little effect. Tommy was glancing
from his pillow to my robe and back, as if he couldn’t make up his mind where
his eyes were supposed to go.
“Tommy, isn’t there some girl you’ve
met while you were here that you could spend some time with? I know how boys your age are, and when you
are vacationing at the beach, you should be blowing off steam in all kinds of
ways. “
Tommy
obviously was reluctant to talk about it.
But he got a resolved look on his face and said “there aren’t any girls
I’ve been interested in since I came down.”
I looked skeptical, I must say.
“Come now, Tommy. I’m pretty sure that
you are straight, and you are a young man just like most others, I would suppose. And I don’t want to be indelicate, but
weren’t you just in the throws of a most impressive self inflicted orgasm? You should be with a girl, not by yourself. And this town is full of attractive girls
wearing string bikinis and searching for exactly the same thing that you and
Jason are searching for. I refuse to
believe that you would prefer to be by yourself rather than with one of those
lovely young things that run around the beach and make me feel inadequate.”
Tommy
looked at me, right in the eye, for the first time since he had regained
control of his senses. He sat up in the
bed. This was a minor disaster, since
his juices that had been puddled on his stomach started running down his
front. I instinctively grabbed a Kleenex
from my nightstand and cleaned it off for him.
I don’t know why I did it. Just
being a mother again, I suppose.
But I got the impression that Tommy looked at
the action as a distinctly sexual act.
He shuddered as my hand cleaned the lower reaches of his stomach. If he wasn’t holding the pillow on himself, I
realized that I would be touching his penis.
I threw the Kleenex into the trash can by the bed. Tommy seemed to gain resolve by that simple
action.
“Mrs. Holden, I’m not
interested in those shallow bimbo types, even if Jason is. I need someone with a mind.”
I wasn’t buying that. “I’m sure lots of these girls have good minds
as well as beautiful bodies, Tommy.
Don’t prejudge a person by the way she looks. You should know that.”
I
could see that Tommy was still embarrassed and uncomfortable. I decided to let him off of the hook. I stood up, again tightened my robe, and said
“I just don’t want you to be upset about me catching you here. I’m not angry, so you shouldn’t be
embarrassed.”
Tommy
must have decided that he couldn’t be more embarrassed than he already was, so
he let out all of the stops. “Mrs.
Holden, I’m just not interested in other girls when I’m around you.”
I
felt a white-hot flash of embarrassment myself.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“You
are so smart and funny and beautiful and sexy.
Ever since I met you I just can’t get you off of my mind. When Jason invited me down here and told me
it would just be the three of us, I jumped at the chance to come. Other girls can’t measure up to you, Mrs.
Holden.”
This
conversation had not gone in the direction I expected when I sat down to talk
with Tommy. I thought I was the nice
best-friend’s mom who could offer some mature words of advice to a boy who had
made a bit of a fool of himself in front of me.
The conversation was supposed to be about him, not about me.
I
said, “That’s very flattering, Thomas, but please! I’m sure that you know as well as I do that
I’m old enough to be your mother. I’m
not falling for your ‘suck up to the old lady’ routine.”
Those words sound rather harsh, but I don’t
think they came out quite as forcefully as I intended. Tommy sat up in bed so that he was reclining
on his elbows. In doing so the pillow
fell off of his midsection and I was again confronted with his oversized
member.
I felt sure that he had exposed
himself to me on purpose. But he seemed
oblivious to it, so I didn’t think I should draw attention to the fact that he
was totally exposed to me. It would be
like I was fixated on his penis or afraid of it or something. So I didn’t say anything, even though I was
fixated on his penis or afraid of it or something.
I noticed that as I looked at
it, it seemed to be growing larger. I
pulled my eyes away from his rising erection and found myself looking directly
into Tommy’s dark brown eyes. Before he
was shy and embarrassed; now he seemed more confident, more sure of
himself. I seemed to be losing control
of this situation, but I just didn’t know how it happened or how to regain
control.
“Mrs. Holden, you’re the
hottest female on the beach. Every one
of Jason’s friends has voted you the older woman they would most like to fuck.”
Well
I’ve heard teenage bravado before but this was too much. I was really rather angry. At least I should have been, shouldn’t I?
I said “That’s enough, Thomas. This is not proper talk between a guest and
his friend’s mother.
Tommy stood up. He was standing beside me, a good six inches
taller than I am. His long, slender
swimmer’s muscles made him seem sleek and chiseled. I moved to get out of his way, assuming he
was leaving the bedroom. Instead he
grabbed my upper arm and swung me around and down on to the bed. My arms had flown up in self-defense and as
my back hit the bed he caught both my wrists and held them tightly above my
head with just one of his large hands.
My robe had come open and I knew that I was fully exposed to this
boy. Still I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t even upset. I didn’t take this thing seriously.
I said, “Come on Tommy. I know you aren’t going to force me to have
sex with you. You’re no rapist. Now let me up.”
But
Tommy continued to hold my wrists. He
said, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I would
never force you normally. But what if I knew
that you really wanted it? You’re so into
playing your “mom” role that you could never admit that you wanted to be fucked
by your son’s roommate. But if I forced
you, then it wouldn’t be your fault. You could do it and still be the good
Mommy. You fought me, but I was too strong. That’s what you could tell yourself.”
Has
your body ever reacted to a sudden situation or event like an electric shock
flowing through your genitals? I’ll admit
that I was already a little turned on by this situation. How couldn’t I be? I had been with a beautiful naked boy for
quite a while, with myself nearly naked.
I was always the dutiful best
friend’s mother through it all, but still I was a more than a little moist
between my legs, I had experienced a thrill or two. Still I’m mature enough not to let such
things affect how I act.
But when he said he was
thinking of raping me because I wanted to be raped, that hit a nerve. Most women have rape fantasies. That
doesn’t mean we want to be raped. It
means that it is tantalizing to think about losing control, being forced
against our will in a non-violent way.
I hate the thought of being
raped, yet some of my most exciting masturbation fantasies involve being taken
by force. I know it’s a paradox, but
women are allowed to think two ways at once.
It’s okay so long as it’s my fantasy, not some sick rapist’s.
Tommy seemed to be offering me
a way to live my fantasy. For just a
second my body was on fire. Then reason
got control again.
I said, “Now Tommy, you let me up. This isn’t a good idea.”
Tommy’s
free hand worked its way under my open robe and searched out my left
breast. He fondled it tenderly. He closed his thumb and finger around the
nipple. Then he pinched almost
violently. Another sharp jolt seemed to
go through my body. There seemed to be a
neural pathway from my nipple directly to my vagina.
He squeezed my nipple again,
hard. My pussy reacted with an
involuntary spasm. I fought to free my
wrists from his grip. But he was too
strong. I’ve got to tell myself he’s too
strong.
His face came close, and then he was kissing
my neck. He was sucking on it like a
vampire. My pussy clenched again. His hand worked its way down my stomach to my
shaved pussy.
I continued to fight to free my
wrists. He was just so strong. I felt his fingertip work its way between my
legs. I held my legs together, not
allowing him access to my most private part.
He moved above me on the bed, still holding my wrists.
His knee pried its way between
my legs, forcing me to open up, making myself accessible, even against my
will. I knew I couldn’t let him touch my
secret part. If he did, then he’d know. He’d
know that I was already wet. He’d know
that my pussy wasn’t listening to my mind.
I squirmed to get away from
him. But he was relentless. His finger traced a line along my nether
lips. He stroked there, not attempting entry,
just teasing my entrance. I fought, but
I knew then that I was losing. My body
seemed to open to him like a flower.
I was moving to avoid his
touch, but the dampness that was in me started rolling down my thighs. Suddenly the room was permeated with my
smell. My mind was fighting this intrusion,
but my body betrayed me. It was welcoming,
eager.
I saw that his penis, that just
a few minutes before had seemed limp and harmless, was now fully erect, strong,
like a piece of carved ivory, the large end plum purple. God I loved fighting it. It felt so good to try to fight it.
I tried moving away from that
huge male organ, but there was nowhere for me to go. My legs were spread and open with his legs
holding them apart. I felt the head of
his penis flop across the mouth of my pussy.
My mind was somewhere between absolute panic and total lust.
The head of his cock found its
way between my cunt lips. I pulled away,
but that just coated his prick head with my juices.
His prick followed my movements
and suddenly forced its way several inches into my body. I was gasping for breath. I was in the grip of some primal emotion. It may have been fear. Perhaps not.
He slid out to the end
again. This time my body moved with him,
like it didn’t want to feel him leave my confines. Tommy slammed into me like the rapist he was
portraying, burying the full length of his massive member deep into my
body. I may have been crying. Perhaps I was laughing, too.
He pulled out, then drove in
again. The power of his thrusts caused
an almost violent reaction in my body, as it met his thrusts with powerful
thrusts of its own. He fondled my breasts like they were his
personal sex toy, tweaking the nipples, then biting them, sucking them. I felt I was being overwhelmed.
My eyes were back in my head,
my mouth was open, I was panting, moaning.
My resolve to keep calm, to keep from climaxing, was being sorely
tested. God, I really needed to orgasm.
It seemed my whole being was
centered on that huge prick splitting open my pussy, almost like it was the
first time. I may as well have been a
virgin, since Tommy was reaching places that Dan hadn’t even known existed.
Suddenly my wrists were
free. Tommy had let them go so he could
clutch my face with both hands and bury his tongue in my mouth. My hands didn’t push him away. Instead they clawed down his back, pulling
him closer, scratching wildly. They were
out of my control. My body had become a
vessel for his use.
I heard the screaming and I
knew it was my own. His bent down to
kiss my neck again. His ear was right by
my lips.
I couldn’t help it. I whispered, then screamed, “Fuck me,
Tommy. Fuck me harder. Stick it in me. Make me come.
Oh, God! I’m coming. God!
Ohhh”
I
felt Tommy’s prick erupt with a flood of sperm.
He emptied string after string of ejecta against my cervix. I couldn’t help it, I kept coming and
coming. My climax lasted for minutes, I
know it did. The charge that ran between
my head and my twat had my pussy walls clenching and unclenching around Tommy’s
now softening prick.
Suddenly the room was quiet, my
ears had stopped ringing, and I realized I was back in control of my own
body. I sat up quickly, closing my robe
over my exposed breasts yet again as Tommy’s penis slid out of my now soaking
hole. Tommy had a look in his eyes that
seemed to contain equal parts exhaustion, exultation and hysteria.
I said “That’s enough,
Thomas. This is not proper talk between
a guest and his friend’s mother.
It seemed like I had said
something like this before, but Tommy dutifully stood and slowly strolled out
of the room. My eyes followed his every
movement.
His naked ass was shaped just
the way I had imagined it to be: eminently squeezable. I saw his penis rocking from side to side as
he walked, still larger at peace than Dan’s prick is at its most
aggressive.
I must have collapsed on the
bed, because the next thing I knew it was several hours later. I was lying on top of the covers, still in my
robe. My private area felt damp and
cold. I was still leaking Tommy’s
sperm! The memory of the awful event
came flooding back on me. I had no idea
what I was going to do, but for now I needed a shower.
I had been raped! I know.
Maybe I did like it a little. But
I didn’t want it to happen. He
talks. He makes you think the whole
thing is your idea. But it’s not.
He might be a sophomore in
college, but the controlling son of a bitch has a doctorate in Sexual
Blackmail. I was raped. Even if I liked it I was raped. Even if I had gotten down on my knees and
begged him to fuck me, it still would have been rape.
That whole drama with the
masturbation; the feigned embarrassment.
It was planned. He planned it to
lure me in, to make me turn motherly and protective when he pretended to be
vulnerable. The little son of a bitch choreographed the whole thing.
I was making myself angry. But still his juice leaked from my body,
reminding me of that mind-shattering orgasm.
I got into the shower, under the hot water to cleanse myself. I soaped my body, washed my breasts. My nipples were still sensitive. Just a little cleaning and they began to
stick out again.
I found myself daydreaming of
Tommy’s huge penis. It had filled me to
the brim. Every portion of my cunt felt
the power of his cock. I closed my eyes,
remembering. If I keep this up I’ll have
to finish myself off in the shower, I think.
Everything that’s happened makes me feel sexual, sensual, needy.
I was standing facing the shower head covered
in soap, shampoo in my hair, when I felt a gust of air. Somebody had opened the bathroom door. Someone was in the bathroom!
I heard the shower curtain
being pulled open. I didn’t even have
time to turn around. I was suddenly
pinned up against the side of the shower by two powerful hands. My head was faced into the wall.
I just felt these hands,
grabbing roughly around parts of my body.
Squeezing my ass. Pinching my
nipples. Clawing at the front of my pussy. The hands were everywhere.
I tried to fight them but they
were so strong. I was scared, confused,
excited. Then I felt it. Hitting my behind could only be a large, rock
hard cock. I tried to turn around, to
see who or what it was, but he wouldn’t let me.
I was trapped against the wall,
powerless to stop this brutal exploration of my body. When he touched my cunt I thought I would
fall down. My knees were weak, my hands
were shaking! Then there it was. The head of his penis touched my anal
opening.
Oh, no! He wouldn’t put it in my ass. Please don’t let him put it in my ass! I squirmed, trying to break free. The more I moved, the harder the pressure
came from his penis assaulting my virgin behind.
I closed my eyes and pretended
that it wasn’t happening, that it would go away. But then there was a pop. The pain was excruciating, but the prick had
successfully lodged in my ass. The
pressure continued.
My mind was shouting: “NO! Not
my ass! It’s sinful! It’s dirty.”
But God, the thought of someone actually fucking me in the ass. It’s one of the fantasies that I almost
didn’t acknowledge to myself that I had.
I wasn’t serious. Of course I didn’t want anyone sticking
anything into that part of my body. But
the thought is so sexy. But now the thought
had become reality!
He seemed to sink deeper with
every thrust of his hips. He had started
gently, but then he began to hump my ass with a passion. He was slamming into me, I felt this huge
cock deep inside me, raping, plundering, controlling me.
His hand, that had been
brutally fondling my tits, slipped down to my waist. Suddenly there were two fingers in my cunt
and a thumb rubbing my clitoris. I shot
off like a canon. I humped back into
that savage cock just as brutally as it was assaulting me. I needed it.
I wanted it to shoot its load deep inside me. Both of my holes began to spasm as I felt
myself swept away by a blinding screaming orgasm. And I felt the cock ejaculating round after
round of sperm, filling me, leaking from me.
My ass was a virgin no longer.
I heard a pop, the prick had
backed out of my ass. I hadn’t opened my
eyes yet, but I felt another blast of air and he was gone. I never even saw him. It was Tommy.
It had to have been Tommy. He’s
my rapist. He’s the one who uses me as
he pleases, fucks me when I don’t want to be fucked, feels me, fingers me,
sodomizes me. My rapist.
The day went on as if nothing
had happened. Jason came home from his
little excursion late in the afternoon. I cooked a few steaks on the grille;
the boys had some beers while I sipped a very nice California Cabernet. Jason seemed eager to talk to Tommy alone
about his time with this new girl. I
didn’t wish to intrude, so I went to my room to read and think.
The next morning I was up as
usual preparing for my morning jog. Jason
came into the kitchen begging for breakfast, so I cooked a couple of eggs and
some bacon.
He said, “Mom, I’m going back
up to Duck today. Jenny is so cool and
she thought we could take her dad’s boat out.’
I said, “That’s nice,
Jason. Are you taking Tommy with
you?” I tried to be nonchalant but I was
having trouble keep my voice steady.
Jason shook his head. “No, Tommy feels like a fifth wheel when
there are two boys and only one girl. He
said he would be fine just lying here on the beach and spending a little time
with you, if that’s all right.”
What was I supposed to
say? No, Jason, Tommy wants to stay so
he can rape me again? I don’t think that
would work. I’m this glib woman and I
couldn’t think of one thing to say to my nineteen year old son so that he could
protect his mother from a fate worse than death.
God help me, I just wanted
Jason to hurry on out of here so Tommy could begin his next assault on my
innocence. God, what if he wants to
stick his penis in my mouth? What if he
puts his mouth on my pussy!?
Go away Jason. Go away.
I’m ready to be raped.