My Body was Collateral

My name is Jenny. I am 5' 1" with nice legs, beautiful skin, and big breasts. I was born in Detroit, but my parents moved to a little farm my dad bought in northern Michigan. 40 acres and Dad's inexperience at farming left us poor. My mother suggested taking in a lodger.

Ed had retired from farming. Although he was at least 30 years older than my parents and had a peg leg, his knowledge, rent, and ability to help out a little, caused my mother to urge Dad to accept him.

When I was 6 or 7, Mother gave birth to twins—by the old peg leg lodger! She tried to pass them off as my dad's, but with proof that he had married a slut, his patience gave out. He left Mother in possession of the farm, returned to Detroit and got a divorce. He had to leave me behind, until he could get a job good enough to support me. When he got a judgment to have me come to live with him, Mother tricked me into returning by saying that Ed had died and asking me to come for the funeral! I found him very much alive, and the judge said I'd voided the agreement by returning to my mother!

I participated in 4H and raised a brown Swiss dairy cow, which won a blue ribbon. I would go out into pasture with my cow and when it lay down, I'd lie against her. I also had a little black dog for a pal.

Mother and Ed would go off to town to shop and drink, leaving me with a middle-aged bachelor neighbor, Ike. He had a pond on his land, where I liked to play.

When I was 13, one day I began bleeding between my legs. I ran crying to my mother. I thought I would die. She merely got a Kotex and handed it to me with a booklet on menstruation.

My obnoxious twin half-brothers teased and pestered me. When I complained to Mother, she just called me a "city slicker."

When Mother tried to marry me off to Ike in exchange for a TV set, I that decided me to leave home. A Catholic priest helped me to find a home as a kind of live-in maid for an affluent Catholic family. I became a Catholic and transferred from public school to the Catholic school.

The principal was a nasty nun, whose wrath I studied to avoid. Fr. Coker, the pastor, paid special attention to me, as a convert.

I was an excellent student. My grades qualified me to be valedictorian, but Fr. Coker disqualified me, because I'd attended the public high school! A girl from one of the "best" families in the parish got the honor. When I graduated, he said, "Come back to us, Jenny!"

I returned to Detroit and lived with my grandparents while I attended a Catholic college and then graduate school. My father had re-married a divorcee who owned her house. She had children, and there didn't seem space for me. I didn't date much; I concentrated on my studies to qualify for scholarships. On one date, the guy lunged at me in his car and tore my dress. Another date prevailed upon me to take out his swollen penis and hold it. I don't know what comfort that gave him.

After graduation, I didn't want to impose upon my grandparents any more while I attended grad school, so I got another live-in job with a wealthy Catholic family in a suburb. They had 3 daughters, so I became a sitter for them. Mrs. F adopted me as a confidante. She told that she realized on her wedding night that she'd made a terrible mistake. As a Catholic with strict Catholic parents, she could not get a divorce. So she took a lover who satisfied her sexually. Sometimes, she connived for me to give her an alibi for her workaholic husband.

After getting my M. A. in English, I got a job teaching in a community college and moved to my own apartment. There turned out to be a lot of rivalry and back-stabbing. I'd long had difficulty sleeping, and my stressful job made me anxious about getting enough sleep. Teaching is mostly mental work, which keeps the mind going, even after the preparation at home is finished. My doctor prescribed a sleeping pill for me. I prescribed a few strong alcoholic drinks to relax after supper and before taking the sleeping pill.

One day, I had to take my car to a garage for repair. The mechanic looked me up and down approvingly. Although I was modestly dressed in a suit with the skirt just above my knees and a little jacket over my blouse, my large breasts and plump ass could not be entirely concealed. He seemed nice enough, not overcharging me for being a woman ignorant of automobiles.

A few days later, I had finished my second strong whiskey and ginger ale and taken my sleeping pill when the phone rang. The mechanic wanted to take me out for a drink. Although it was 9 p.m., I consented. Perhaps, my judgment was impaired by the alcohol. I was lonely and depressed, not realizing then that alcohol in the quantity I took is a depressant.

We had two drinks. He had already been drinking. Instead of driving me home, he drove me to a motel. He led me into a room. I was 24 years old and still a virgin. I must have been dazed by the drugs. I didn't care what he did. I stood while he stripped me naked, felt me all over and kissed me, telling me what a fantastic body I had. He led me to the bed. I lay indifferent watching him undress and noting his stiff penis. He got into bed with me. I felt detached, watching myself, mildly curious about what would happen. I felt his erection rubbing against me and thought, "Soon I won't be a virgin anymore." He lay on me and began rubbing his body over mine.

Then, he stopped. I waited for a few minutes for him to continue, but he had passed out! What a fool! I was intoxicated into compliance, but he had drunk himself into a stupor. I was ripe fruit for him to pick, but he fell off his ladder. I got up, dressed, and called a cab. He didn't call again. Either he was too embarrassed by his flop, or he didn't remember much through his alcoholic fog.

I realized that big city life was too hectic and impersonal for me. I applied for a job teaching English at St. Ambrose, the Catholic school from which I'd graduated. Fr. Coker was happy to hire me. He seemed fatter now, and his short hair was white. When I told him I was almost broke, with payments on a student loan, car payments and moving expenses, and couldn't afford a month's rent in advance, plus an equal amount of deposit to be refunded when I left, if I didn't damage the premise, he lent me the money. I didn't realize then that my body was collateral!

I rented a room in a private home owned by a married couple a few years older than I. We became friendly. Janice, the wife, invited me for suppers. She was a free spirit, cheerful with a rich, sometimes ribald, sense of humor. She was a brunette with shoulder-length hair, taller than I, with long, shapely legs and a good figure. Tom was tall, dark and rather handsome. He flattered me and his admiring looks made me feel attractive.

At work, however, Fr. Coker began paying me a lot of attention. He'd inspect me to make sure that my skirts weren't too short. He adjusted my posture, with his hands on my shoulders, saying, stand up straight with your shoulders back! One day, I said I wasn't feeling very well. He pretended to listen to my heart so that he could press his head against my jutting breasts.

Sister D. was still the principal. Hearing my students laugh in class seemed to anger her, as if education couldn't be fun. One day, she began an altercation with me in the hallway. She concluded by slapping my face! I slapped her right back. She could have made my daily work miserable but left me alone most of the time. I guessed that Fr. Coker was protecting me from her.

Sylvia, another teacher on staff, was obviously enamored of him, smiling warmly whenever she saw him and hanging on his every word. One summer day, she coaxed me to accompany her out to Fr. Coker's cabin on the lake. They made an amorous pair, strolling to the beach arm in arm and playing in the water. He seemed to be showing off to me that he was a ladies' man. We wore swimsuits, and Fr. Coker must have enjoyed seeing a lot more of me, by the way he leered. It became clear that this pillar of the community was an old hypocrite, who wanted me to join his stable of sex partners!

One evening, he came to my door, carrying a bottle of my favorite liquor, I opened the door with the chain on, said I was very tired and going to bed. A few days later, he showed up earlier with another bottle and his mistress. I let them in. She made calf eyes at him and he made calf eyes at me. When I was satisfied that he had too much to drink to molest me, I announced that I was retiring. She was ready to leave, but he left reluctantly.

My landlords noted Fr. Coker's persistent wooing and ran some interference for me. They weren't Catholic, so they were not daunted by his status.

It was my custom, after a long day at school inveigling boisterous teenagers with raging hormones, to appreciate literary classics, to shed my school clothes, free my straining breasts from their tight bra, and don a short, thin robe in the warm weather. After supper, I'd relax further with 2 or 3 strong drinks and a racy book.

One night, there was a knock on the door. Fearing another visit by my boss, I opened the door just a crack. There was Tom, my landlord.

"Ann, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I need to check on your plumbing."

"Think nothing of it! I'm just relieved you aren't my pestering pastor!"

We laughed. He noticed how my short robe exposed my legs and the cleavage peeking from the neck of my robe. He went into the kitchen and looked into the cabinet under the sink. I followed and stood by the sink, until I realized I was giving him a view up between my thighs.

"It's okay. I see you're drinking alone. Janice is visiting her parents overnight, so I'm alone, too."

It seemed polite to offer him a drink. He sat opposite and had a good view of my legs since my brief robe tied at the waist and spread open as I sat down. I'd pull it together but, relaxed by the alcohol, I'd forget, and cross my legs, which opened it again. After another drink, I forgot how much I was showing him.

"You sure are a good-looking woman, Ann!"

"Thank you!"

"You don't seem to have much of a sex life, though, with that dirty old man hounding you and scaring others off. You have a pretty face, beautiful legs, and luscious breasts. You should be enjoying yourself, making love every night!"

I became embarrassed by his very personal remarks. I did have a sort of boyfriend. A fellow teacher took me out occasionally, but he was very straight-laced. He wasn't sure yet that I could pass inspection by his mother.

"I do date a fellow teacher." I said, defensively. I found a photo he'd taken of me in front of a restaurant, walked over to Tom and showed it him. He burst out laughing!

"Look where you're standing! Did he do that on purpose or is he too innocent to have noticed?"

I saw myself standing in front of the restaurant's sign, which said Food and Cocktails, but I was in front of the tail part so that the sign said Food and Cock! I was certainly too innocent! I blushed.

"You deserve some real cock—every night!"

Tom grabbed the tie on my robe and pulled it open, revealing my legs all the way up to my bikini panties and my naked breasts!

"What a body! I want some of that!" As I turned away, he pulled my robe completely off.

Why did I run to the bedroom? That's exactly where he wanted me. I did not even have a chance to close the door. He turned me to him. I saw a huge erection straining his pants. He grabbed my breasts and kissed me. When I tried to cover my breasts, he pulled my panties down to my knees. He embraced me, grabbed my bare ass and French-kissed me. I'd never felt such wave of excitement rush over my body.

He carried me to my bed and laid me there. I watched while he removed his pants and under shorts. His big cock scared me. He got onto the bed. I struggled, but I was small and he was a big, strong man lying on top of me and pressing me down into the bed. I soon tired.

"I pleaded, "Don't make me pregnant!"

He replied, "Don't worry. I had a vasectomy."

He forced my legs apart and up. I felt his cock moving through my pubic hair searching to enter me. He rubbed the head of his cock up and down my labia. I felt his fingers exploring my most intimate place, separating my inner labia and spreading them open. The big head rubbed my inner lips until they felt slick with his precum and pressed against my inner lips. He thrust. It hurt. I screamed. He kept thrusting, but only wedged the head of his cock between my labia.

"Damn it!" he groaned as his excitement overwhelmed him and he ejaculated into the entrance of my pussy. He collapsed back on top of me. Minutes later, he rose with a sigh.

"I'm sorry! You're so beautiful and sexy that I couldn't resist you! I didn't expect you to be a virgin at your age. Forgive me!"

He left and I went into my bathroom to clean up. So this was sperm; it certainly made a mess in my bush! I took a shower. I really needed a sleeping pill now! I'd have to move to another apartment.

The next day, a Saturday, I called an older woman friend with whom I'd lived for a while in a Detroit suburb, again as a Catholic charity case. I told her I had been raped. Her response shocked me.

"It's about time you had sex! You were a virgin too long. What were you saving it for?"

I was speechless during this.

"You don't think I should be upset and go to the police?"

"What good would that do? He's married, and you're friends with his wife. He did you a favor. So it hurt; next time, it will feel good."

"He didn't get all the way inside. I think I still have my hymen."

"Well, that was clumsy! Maybe his penis was too big for you. If you're nice to him and don't scare him off, perhaps he'll return to complete the job."

I reminded myself that she was a wife whose husband didn't satisfy her sexually, so she took a lover.

There was a knock on my door. Oh, God, was Tom back for a second try? No, it was a man delivering flowers. "From your admirer," it said. My god, who: Fr. Lecher or raper Tom?

I gave up seeking sympathy. I liked Tom's wife and didn't want to hurt her or their marriage. From the raunchy way she and he always talked at supper with me, she might not be surprised if he made some extramarital conquests. The next time she invited me for supper, I tried to refuse, but she insisted. Tom treated me in a grateful, gentlemanly manner. Maybe, he'd leave me alone now. It would be difficult for me to find another apartment soon, especially as cheap as this one.

Janice continually urged me to dress in a sexier way.

"You have such a good figure! Show it!" she said. Tom nodded eagerly.

I became a project for Janice. She took me shopping for sexy clothes and to get herself another outfit, by the way. She encouraged me to buy a dark blue cotton\polyester miniskirt with a little spandex in it, which fit me like a glove, and a light blue blouse with a low neckline, a half-cup bra, and bikini panties. At her suggestion, I bought a skirt for teaching to replace my knee-length style with one a few inches above my knees. Because I am short, the shorter skirts, by revealing more of my legs, make them look longer. Then, we saw a very cute, extremely sexy cocktail dress with a happy bright yellow background for a small red and blue floral print in rich tones. Thinking I'd had enough cocktail, I demurred, but Janice insisted that it would show off my voluptuous figure perfectly. We were in the same dressing room so that we could get each other's opinions. The cocktail dress, however, was made to be worn without a bra. Blushingly, I fumbled with my bra clasp and Janice undid it for me.

"Wow, you have beautiful breasts, Ann! They're so full and firm! This dress will really show them off!"

"That's what worries me!"

The dress came with matching bikini panties, which were also very cute. I tried them over my existing modest, white panties that gave full coverage. Janice helped zip up the back while I tied the front, which wrapped around my breasts. The skirt came about 6" above my knees and my legs did look good. About a third of my breasts were revealed. I looked beautiful and very sexy.

"It's very pretty and I like it a lot. But doesn't it show too much? When will I get to a cocktail party?"

"What you've got is well worth showing! Have you seen these broads with plunging necklines and flat chests? What are they trying to prove? Once you start showing your assets, you'll get plenty of invitations to parties, if the other women don't get jealous!"

In her car on the way back, Janice inquired,

"Do any of your horny male students eye you up in class?"

"No, I don't think so. I haven't noticed."

"You'll notice now. Wearing sexy clothes will make you more aware of your body and you'll enjoy being a woman more. It will radiate to men, even when you wear your school clothes."

"Do your boys 'eye you up'" Janice taught English in the public high school.

"I can't bend over without some boys' eyes on my butt. I can't cross my legs in front of a boy without him noticing how much thigh I'm showing. And some of them like to stand while I'm sitting so that they can see down my cleavage! After all, I do have nice, long legs, a nice ass, and C-cup boobs! I don't stick out in the right places quite as much as you do, but I look good."

"You certainly do look good. You're very sexy. I try to dress modestly in class, though."

"It doesn't take much of an opening for a sex-crazed teenager to get a thrill! I doubt the teen girls are satisfying them. They probably think that being a married woman, I have a lot of experience in exciting and satisfying men—in contrast to the schoolgirls."

"You ought to teach sex education!" I said with a laugh.

"I would—if they had lab!"

"Lab?" I choked laughing.

"Sure! Girls especially need to experiment and explore their bodies, their erogenous zones. Then they can tell boys how to excite them most!"

"Oh, brother! That would get you excommunicated at St. Ambrose High!"

"That's no place for progressive education, for sure, and I'm very progressive!" We laughed.

"Now, you don't date much, and that prim and proper guy you do date, when he can fit you into his schedule, doesn't look like much fun. Do you mind my asking if you're still a virgin?"

"Yes, I mean no, I don't mind. I'm still a virgin."

"Jeez haven't men been after you? You can't hide a body like yours completely!"

"I guess a few have tried."

"But you're a good Catholic, huh? Sorry, but I think that's a bore. I wasn't a virgin when I married. When we were first married, we had sex every day. Then, teaching and housework took up most of my time. I was often too tired for sex until the weekend. Summer vacation gives me the leisure for lots of sex, and Tom is still ready to do it almost daily. Maybe I should lend you Tom. He's quite a cocksman. He could break you in with the least pain, just between friends. He could keep us both happy, until he got too much of a good thing." She grinned.

She saw my jaw drop and my mouth gaping.

"Just a naughty thought. He has made comments about what a good body you're hiding. I suspect he fantasizes about you when he's fucking me. I'm not jealous, if thinking about you gets him up for me."

"Do you think Tom has ever been unfaithful to you?"

"Oh, I know he has had a few women when I was too busy or tired for sex! I take pride in his conquests and just insist that he tells me every detail. That gets me hot, and he satisfies me. He agrees that it's fair if I want to play around some, too—if I tell him my adventures. Many people mix up sex with love. You can make love, but you can also just enjoy having sex. We have an open marriage, but I just haven't opened my legs for another man yet." She lowered her head and blushed. It was about time she blushed!

"

I was dumbstruck!