Groped Ch. 02

I sat there looking at my phone for almost an hour before I finally worked up the nerve to text her. And even then I half-way hoped she wouldn't respond. Something was wrong with me I knew. This woman, a complete stranger, had come up to me at the carnival the other day and groped me in public. I should have hated it. I should have screamed and called the cops. Instead I handed her my bra, nearly creamed my panties, and kept quiet. I hadn't even told my boyfriend about it.

Well, ex-boyfriend now. I ended up breaking up with him later that same day. I told him it was just because I didn't see any future with him. I'd actually been planning on breaking up with him before that day...but I couldn't ignore the timing. Part of me was afraid that that woman had something to do with it. I was afraid that some small part of me wanted to dump him not for my own reasons, but to clear the way so I could be with her. That thought terrified me beyond anything else.

Me: "Hi there"

After about 20 minutes of waiting I thought I had gotten a lucky break. I hoped that she wouldn't text me back; that she'd given me the wrong number, that something would stop this train wreck that I instinctively knew was coming. But then my phone chirped...

Her: "Hello. Who's this?"

What did I say to that? "hey I'm the girl you molested last week"; "Hey I'm the one whose live you threw into chaos by grabbing my ass"; "Hi there I'm Ashley"?

Me: "We met at the carnival the other day."

What was that? That's probably the worst way I could have possibly responded to that. Would she even know what I was talking about? She probably met lots of people at the carnival. Really met people, not like she met me. Actually met and talked to people instead of just groping them.

Her: "You're gonna have to be more specific. I met lots of people there."

I knew it. how do I describe it though. If I tell her I was the one she molested and I couldn't get her out of my head she might get the wrong impression. I'm not a lesbian after all. At most I'm bi-curious.

Me: "You grabbed my butt."

There. That was OK. From that she'd probably think I'm mad at her and that I'm texting to confront her about it. That's better than her thinking I'm some sort of depraved slut right?

Her: "You're still gonna have to be more specific. That applies to a lot of girls."

What? Really? How many girls did she grope at that carnival? I assumed I was the only one. But that's stupid of me. Why would she only grope me and no one else? I'm hot but not that much hotter than everyone around me. She probably does this to hundreds of girls all the time. I'm not special. She doesn't even remember me.

Me: "I uhh...gave you my bra..."

That should jog her memory. But is that what I want? Why am I trying so hard to remind this girl about me? Nothing good will come of this. I can feel it.

Her: "Getting warmer. Color?"

SERIOUSLY? How many girls just give away their bras to random strangers at a carnival?

Me: "Orange..."

Her: "Oh yeah I remember you now. You're the one with the small tits and flabby ass right?"

WHAT THE FUCK?!?! WHO DOES THIS BITCH THINK SHE IS??? That doesn't describe me at all!

Does it? I mean I guess I could stand to lose a few pounds but I'm definitely not flabby. But then as I thought about it a little more. I'd gotten a very good look at her jean-clad butt the other day and she certainly didn't have any flab there. Hers was tight and firm and head-turning. I guess compared to hers mine was just a little bit flabby. But it isn't really my fault though. I hardly have time to study and hold down a job, I have no time to workout.

But saying my tits are small? There's no way she can justify that. Her tits were tiny. She's probably like a B cup, maybe even an A cup if there was a lot of padding. I'm a C.

Me: "That doesn't sound like me. I'm a C cup."

Maybe she just has me confused with another girl she groped at the carnival that gave her their orange bra...

Her: "Really? Coz I gave them a squeeze and they didn't feel very big."

Shit. I forgot about that part. Maybe I can bluff her. I'm pretty sure I cut the tag off that one, maybe she won't notice...

Me: "Well you have my bra. Just look at it."

Hopefully she won't notice the padding...

Her: "What? You think I still have it? I traded it to some greasy guy for some cotton candy"

WHAT? She traded it for cotton candy? Seriously? I just assumed she kept at as a prize, like a trophy or something. How could she fucking trade it?

Me: "Why would you do that? That was my favorite bra. And it was expensive!"

There, now she'll feel guilty. It's past time I got back on balance in this conversation and put HER on the defensive.

Her: "Oh really? Then why did you hand it over to a stranger?"

This wasn't working at all. Everything I said just seemed to be digging me into a deeper hole with this girl. My first impulse was to reply with some hot tempered "Shut up" or something equally eloquent. I stamped that down pretty fast though. I realized that I wasn't going to come out on top talking to this girl and I'm not big on losing. I decided to just not reply at all. She can't make me say something stupid if I don't say anything at all. She'll probably get bored and delete my messages after about an hour.

No such luck.

Her: "Cat got your tongue?"

Don't rise to the bait. She's just trying to get a rise out of you. Just ignore her and she'll go away. The next message was longer and she'd obviously put a lot of thought into it and taken some time to type it all out.

Her: "Listen here fat ass, you texted Me remember. Don't you DARE ignore me now! You may not know it yet but I know exactly why you texted me. You realize a simple truth. I'm better than you. It's not rocket science really. It should be obvious to anyone who looks at us both. I'm as near to perfect as humanly possible. I'm beautiful, athletic, smart, funny, and outgoing. People worship the ground I walk on as they should. And you're no exception. You texted me because you want to worship me. Don't chicken out now. If you behave I MIGHT even let you worship me."

I was completely blown away by that. The sheer arrogance of it. How could she possibly think I wanted to worship her? I wasn't even a lesbian. I only texted her because...because...

I couldn't remember. I was sure I had a good reason before I texted her but now I wasn't so sure. I'd wanted to confront her but I had no idea to what end. I hadn't expected an apology or anything. I hadn't wanted to make her feel bad or anything like that. Why had I messaged her?

I wrestled with that question for quite a while. Probably another hour before I had finally worked through all the scenarios in my head. And the only one that seemed to make any sense was the one she said. Even at the carnival I thought she was smoking hot. I acknowledged that she was prettier than me and in better shape. I didn't actually know if she was smarter than me but from our conversation she kept making me feel like an idiot and she always seemed to come out on top. It didn't prove anything but I figured that probably made her at least a little bit smarter than me.

But I still didn't like it. I replied with the only thing I could think of that might save a little bit of my dignity.

Me: "Maybe you're right."