Eighteen Years and 5 Months Old

The other girl turned up with an armful of empty boxes, stacked inside and on top of one another. All told there must have been a dozen of them. I made a move to take them from her, but she shook her head, and said that she’d help. As we made out way to Christine’s car, the girl with the boxes introduced herself. And to my surprise, I told her my name in return.

We quickly packed all the books, and papers that littered the car into the boxes, including all the empty paper cups, and fast food wrappers. It looked like her car hadn’t been cleaned or tidied in years.

I later found out that she used her back seat as a kind of office, and knew where every piece of paper or book was at any given time. A marvellous feat considering that she drove like a maniac, and that anything on the back seat must have been thrown all over the place. So, though I didn’t know it at the time, it was a real sacrifice for her to offer her car to take me to the airport.

In the car, Christine asked me to tell her what had happened to me. Even though I trusted her, I couldn’t tell her the truth so I made up a simple story, without providing any real detail.

I told her that I had picked up a hire car at Minneapolis airport, with the intention of seeing Humfrey Hurgen’s hideaway. I almost choked when I had to say his name, and when she started saying that she thought he was sexy and good looking, I couldn’t stop myself from crying. She actually stopped the car in the middle of the road, and ignored all the honks and yells from other motorists to give me a hug. I don’t think she realised that it was Humfrey’s name that had the effect on me. I think she thought that it was caused by my having to relive the rape.

I said that I was driving and I pulled into a parking area. It was a loop road separated from the highway by a tree-covered verge. When I stopped the only other vehicle was a van. I got out to stretch my legs; the side door of the van opened and a man jumped out and dragged me inside. He violently raped me. I showed her the scar on my head.

I would always have a permanent reminder of the hinges in Humfrey’s secret room. He had driven my head into it, whilst fucking my arse from behind.

I said that almost the first thing he did was throw something over my head, so I couldn’t describe him. And that after he had finished, he had kicked me out and driven away. The only description I could give of the van was that it was dark.

I then said that I had stayed in my car, with the door locked for almost a day, before finding a motel. And that I hadn’t reported it to the police, and that I didn’t intend to.

When we pulled up at the airport, I was gently sobbing. I was allowing myself to cry as a means of her not asking me any many questions. I didn’t really feel like crying anymore. I was eager to see my parents. But at the same time, I didn’t want to see them. I was scared that they would be ashamed of me.

I didn’t feel guilty about making up a story and telling it to Christine. In many ways it was a healing process. I felt a lot better about a stranger raping me, as opposed to my hero raping me.

I was going to try hard to make myself believe my tale, because I knew that if I kept to my story it would be easier for me. I don’t know why a fabrication could be easier to live with than the truth, but it I knew that it would be.

I wouldn’t deny to myself what had happened, and who had done it, but I could keep it a secret from everybody else. The truth if it came out would not do me any good. People would want Humfrey to be punished, but I was guilty as well as him. And there was also the document that I had signed. An anonymous rapist suited me just fine.

She waited until I had more control over myself and then gently asked me if I would prefer it if she told my parents that I had been raped. Another overwhelming burst of gratitude swept over me, and I gratefully accepted her offer. As we were walking to the terminal, she asked me, which of my parents she should tell first. Which one did I believe was the stronger? For the first time in months, I had to use my brain, but eventually I replied that my mother would be able to cope better.

We didn’t talk much while we waited, but Christine made sure that she was never far from my side. And I drew strength and courage from her closeness. I was worried about my parent’s reactions, but I needn’t have been. They were great.

I suppose it was then that I fully realised, possibly for the first time, that parents really could love their children unconditionally

When they came through they made a fuss of me, and whilst Dad was crushing me in his arms I saw Christine take my mother to one side. Before Christine told her, she instructed mom not to look at me, until after she had finished speaking. She thought that if I had seen my mother the instant after she heard what had happened to me, then her unguarded reaction would show on her face, and I could mis-interpreted it.

When my mother walked slowly towards me after Christine had told her, the only expression I could read on her face was anger. And I could tell that her anger was not directed towards me. She gave me a big hug and told me she loved me, and dragged my father to one side.

She knew that he would not be able to control his reaction, so she walked him a fair way away from Christine and I before telling him what Christine had told her. When they returned a few minutes later, there were the streaks of tears on his face. I had never seen him cry before. But as he held me, he started to cry again, and then I burst into tears, and then my mother lost it and joined in. I’m not sure but I think that Christine cried a bit too.

We drove back towards campus and Christine dropped us off at a hotel. I gave her the biggest and hardest hug that I was capable of. I wanted to kiss her, but something stopped me. I think I may have hurt her feelings.

My parents and I talked for a long while when we got to their hotel room, and then we went out for dinner. Much as they wanted the night to continue, I could see that they were very tired from their journey and so it was only a little after ten when I took my leave of them. They didn’t want me to go. They especially didn’t want me to get a taxi, but I insisted, and they reluctantly gave in.

When I got back to my room, I found that the girls had left Christine’s boxes in the foyer, and the idea came to me that I wanted to return them to her, as soon as possible. So I collected my car keys from my room and walked over to the Admin Building car park.

The keys had a tag with a license number on them, so I was easily able to find my car, and it started first time. I picked up the boxes and consulted the guidebook I had been given when I enrolled. I found a telephone number for Christine but no address, so I nearly gave up, but the girl I had met earlier entered the hall, because she had to use the bathroom, and she was able to give me Christine’s address. Apparently she had a get together for all her pupils at the beginning of each semester, and Justine was in one of her classes.

It was almost midnight by the time that I got to Christine’s address. It was a large old brick built house, with magnificent windows and huge bays. By the look of the nameplates by the door, it was divided into 3 apartments. Christine’s name was by the side of the top bell push. Hesitantly I pressed it.

Taking the boxes back to her ion the middle of the night didn’t seem like such a good idea now. I may not have been doing much for the last week, but Christine presumably needed her sleep.

I heard the bell ring from quite close by, which put paid to my theory that she lived on the top floor, because she had the uppermost bell. I took a step back, which enabled me to catch a glimpse of the curtain in the front bay twitching slightly. I thought I caught a flash of somebody wearing something white.

I heard the sound of a door being opened, and then I saw a light come on in the downstairs hall, and I could see the silhouette of Miss Morris through the glass of the door.

I heard fumbling as she unlocked the front door and took off the safety chain, and then my eyes were assaulted by a very bright light as she opened the door. For a moment all I could see was the hazy outline of something which was yellow at the top but for the most part white.

When my eyes could focus again I could see Christine standing in the open doorway waiting for me to say something. I hadn’t taken much notice of her hair before, but now it was loose and bushy, framing her face down past her shoulders. She was not wearing any make-up, but she had a striking face that didn’t need any. She was wearing a long white T-shirt or short nightgown which only just covered her crotch, leaving her long tanned legs bare.

“I thought you might want some of your things” I spoke quietly because of the hour “I found my car, and I’ve loaded it.” She shook her head, not in reply to my unspoken question, but to clear it. She had obviously either been asleep or dozing when I rang the bell.

“It could have waited” she replied, “but I must admit that I could do with them.” I began to turn to descend to the car and start emptying it, but she called me back.” Hold it.” She ordered “come in and let me get dressed before we bring the stuff up”.

She gestured for me to enter which I did. She stood back a little to allow me to enter, but I still had to squeeze by her. As our bodies touched I could feel the small hairs all over my body stand on end. She shut the door and turned to face me.

I could see that her nipples were erect beneath her shirt. I could feel that mine were erect beneath my bra.

I followed her into her apartment, and shut the door behind me. I watched her walk into the living area. I noticed by the way that her bum wobbled that she must not be wearing any underwear. For some reason the thought of this excited me, and I could feel myself start to become moist.

She waved at the settee, and disappeared from sight. Almost immediately I could hear the sounds coffee making. She stuck her head around the wall and asked if I took cream and sugar. I nodded.

When she returned with two mugs of steaming coffee I was surprised that she hadn’t taken the opportunity to change. Especially as she had brushed her hair, and put on traces of mascara, eye shadow and lipstick.

She sat on a chair opposite to where I was sitting, after putting the mugs on the coffee table between us. She sat with her legs together, almost upright, even though it was a lounge chair. “How are you?” she asked.

“OK” I replied dismissively, as if it were of no concern. I felt myself start to blush, because I seemed to be staring at her breasts. But she took no notice. She bent down to pick up her cup, and I saw her tits hang down and free for a second. They were much larger than mine, but not out of proportion for her size, because she was tall and slim. Apart from a pair of well developed boobs.

As she lent forward the weight of her tits pushed against the material of her shirt, and for a moment a large gap opened up at her neckline. I was granted a fleeting view of her breastbone, and the passage between her tits.

Involuntarily I gasped. Which made her pause in mid movement and look at me. Thus my entrancing vista was prolonged for a second or two longer. I thought I could make out the folds of flesh on her belly as it bent, and maybe even something a little darker lower.

She sat back up, and swung her legs up onto the chair, so that she was sitting on them. This exposed an even greater expanse of thigh than before, which only added to my excitement and apprehension.

I had no real idea what I was doing, or why. I knew that I wanted to see her again, and as soon as possible, but it seemed to be not only because I felt grateful to her. There seemed to be a sexual element in it, which was getting more prominent with her every movement.

She gave me a huge smile, but said nothing. I continued to examine her closely with my eyes. She did not seem to be discomforted by my attention. Maybe she even enjoyed it.

The silence hung between us, and after half a minute or so, it began to take on and oppressive quality. It became awkward. It was past the time when one or other of us should have said something, but I couldn’t find the words.

I didn’t know what words I wanted to say. I was being completely controlled by my hormones and urges, and my brain was completely blank. Just along for the ride, so to speak.

The silence dragged on for another minute, during which time she took another couple of sips of her coffee. I did not touch mine; all I wanted to do was look at her naked body, covered by only the flimsiest cotton nightshirt.

As if she had come to a decision, she abruptly put down the mug, and started to rise. It was an inelegant movement and quite interesting for me to watch. As she stood I had a fleeting glimpse of her pussy.

She strode around the table to where I sat and lent down, so that her face was only inches away from mine. She put a palm on either side of my face and squeezed very gently. Then she moved her face closer to mine until our lips touched.

I was so taken by surprise that I almost jumped out of my skin. She must have thought the kiss was something I didn’t want because she started to back off. She let her hands fall to her sides, but I leant forward, catching her lips in retreat and pressed mine against hers.

I had no experience of passionate kissing. The most I had done previously was close-mouthed kisses with a couple of boys before I was thirteen. And when I was violated Humfrey hadn’t gone in for kissing. He had other uses for my mouth. So I didn’t know what to do, but I pushed harder, to increase the pressure, and hoped that I was doing all right.

She broke off the kiss, and took a step towards me, and then reunited our lips. This time she was controlling it, and I could feel her lips trying to part beneath mine, and I could feel the timid exploration of her tongue against my closed lips.

This was all new to me, and I was very scared, but at the same time very excited, and with great trepidation I opened my mouth slightly. I was fearful that her tongue would invade my mouth violently when I allowed it access, but it didn’t. It advanced a little, and then started to wander over my lips. I opened my mouth a little bit wider, and pressed a bit more firmly, and her tongue as if encouraged by my actions entered deeper into my mouth.

Her tongue began to battle with mine, which of it’s own accord started to try to invade her mouth. We were both pressing much harder against each other, and sucking the air from the other’s mouth. I had never been kissed like this before. It wasn’t gentle or polite; it was passionate and actively encouraged the lust I felt to grow. After too soon a time, she broke away.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you” she whispered. The only way I could think of to reply, in fact the only thing that I wanted to do, was to repeat the experience so I leant forward and kissed her again. Our second kiss, or maybe it was our third, but it was definitely our second proper kiss was even more passionate than the first.

She was half lying on my chest, and had put her arms behind me. I could feel one hand rubbing against my spine, whilst the other seemed to be grabbing bunches of my hair. Without being conscious of it, I had reached out with my arms, and had encircled her waist. I had grabbed one of her hipbones, and was convulsively squeezing it.

She broke us apart again, and stood up. Without saying a word, she reached out a hand, which I took, and when I stood she led me to another room. It turned out to be her bedroom. The cover was slightly rumpled as if she had been lying on it when I called.

She twisted around and took me into her arms. She was a good six inches taller than I, and together we lay down on the bed. We didn’t fall down; we slowly lowered ourselves until we were lying side by side. Our heads on the pillows. Our eyes only inches apart. She leaned towards me and started to offer a myriad number of pecks to the area around my lips. Encircling my mouth with little kisses. I tried to respond, but most of the time, I missed any part of her face, and ended up kissing the air.

I felt so free. I felt free of Humfrey, and what his prick had done to me. I felt free of the cares of the last months. I felt renewed and vibrant, and very, very horny.

I had masturbated regularly since I was fifteen, but had not touched myself since the incident, and it felt like my pussy was overflowing with pent up juices. The mental journey, from not being interested in anything, to this level of frustration, in the space of one day was hard for me to come to terms with. And so I just accepted it.

I recognised that I had an urgent need for sex. The fact that I required to have sex so that I could feel clean again, and that I wanted to regard sex as being a natural and clean activity, may have had something to do with my need. But it was also about needing the release.

I had never had sex voluntarily with another person in my life. And here I was kissing and lusting after a woman.

I couldn’t believe it of myself. Since puberty all my dreams and fantasies had involved men. I had looked at my girlfriends naked over a web cam connection, and it hadn’t stirred me in the least. But now I wanted to continue kissing Christine for the rest of my life. No that was untrue. I wanted to do more than kiss her.

She pulled apart from me and pulled her nightshirt off. She was completely naked underneath. I had seen naked girls before. All I had to do was look in a mirror. But she was entirely different. Or maybe it was the situation we were in. I was hungry for her. But I didn’t know what to do.

She lay on her back, with her arms by her side, and her legs slightly open. Waiting.

I took my time inspecting her.

I looked at her face first.
Her hair was splashed over the pillow, like a golden halo.
Her eyes were wide with excitement and want.
Her mouth was open a bit, with the tip of her pink tongue just showing.
Her neck was smooth and unwrinkled but red with passion.
Her tits were large and lying flatish on her chest.
The nipples were erect.
Her aureoles were large and brownish.
Her belly was flat, and I could see the shape of her ribcage.
Her navel was concave, and looked inviting.
Her groin was hairless apart from a small strip of golden pube.
The lips of her slit were engorged and fat, and were a dark shade of pink.
I could see where one lip stuck to the other, but it held the promise of a wet hole.
I couldn’t continue my inspection any longer,
I had a burning need within me that needed to be fulfilled.
I didn’t know what to do, but I let instinct and desire guide me.

I leaned over and took one of her nipples into my mouth, and started to suck. Instantly I felt more comfort than I could ever have imagined. I had read about the bliss of lying in a sensory deprivation tank, and that was the only thing that may possibly have compared with how I felt.

I ran my tongue around the base of her nipple, and over its plateau. It became even harder and bigger, but this was a bit hard to judge as Christine pressed herself upwards. I opened my mouth wider and took more of her tit into my mouth until it was filled, and I sucked deeply. It felt like I was pulling her nipple deep into my mouth.

I repeated these actions on the other nipple.

Her neck area was bright red, and she was breathing deeply and irregularly. I inched myself a bit lower on the bed, and trailed my tongue down from her breast to her belly button. I traced its outline, and then penetrated its depth with my tongue. She gasped.