tagNonConsent/ReluctanceNo is Supposed to Mean No

No is Supposed to Mean No


Woman gets more than she wants by agreeing to go to the circus.

I had a date with Jim last night. Oh, my God, never again. What a nightmare. He practically raped me. Actually, it would have been rape, date rape, had I not been so horny, and reluctantly cooperated, somewhat. It's been a while since I've had sex, several months and to my chagrin I discovered that going out on a date when horny is like going to the supermarket to shop for food when hungry. I'll never do that again.

Anyway, Jim is a friend of Tom, my co-worker. I kind of like Tom, a little. I wouldn't say no if he asked me out, but it's a little weird with us working together in the same office, especially if it didn't work out. Had it been Tom instead of Jim who asked me out, maybe I wouldn't be writing this story.

Yet, had Tom asked me on a date and if we didn't like one another, I'd hate that awkwardness I'd feel having to see him every day. Besides, what if he talked about me, what I liked, what I did, what I was like, you know, all of that personal stuff. I wouldn't want all my co-workers knowing so much about me. I'd be so embarrassed. Even if we hit it off, office romances don't work.

I met Jim a few times. He has lunch with Tom a couple times a week. He works somewhere close by, I imagine, for him to be able to stop by on his lunch hour.

Jim is not a bad looking guy, only he's already losing his hair. If he's losing his hair now at 29, I can't imagine what he'd look like at 49-years-old, completely bald probably. Balding men are turn off for me. I mean, I don't mind if a guy shaves off all his hair and is completely bald, like Mr. Clean from that cleaning commercial, but if he has the Friar Tuck or the Bozo the Clown look, that does nothing for me. It just makes him look old.

So, Jim has been hanging around the office more and he even had lunch with Tom in the employee lunchroom. I didn't know someone from the outside could do that, have lunch in the employee lunchroom, when they're not an employee, but no one complained. When I saw Jim there again, I was beginning to wonder if he and Tom were gay lovers. Only, that was when Jim asked me to go out with him.

"Jennifer," he said. "I have two tickets to the Cirque du Soleil for tonight. Would you like to go with me?"


He didn't give me much notice. He kind of put me on the spot and made me wonder if I was the first one he had asked to see the show or if I was a last minute selection, after his first or second or third choices turned down or cancelled his invitation, even.

"I apologize for the last minute invitation," he said, "but it took me three weeks to build up the courage to ask you. I just thought if I went ahead and bought the tickets, that would give me the motivation that I needed to ask you out. Only, I still carried the tickets around with me for a two weeks," he said with a nervous laugh.

Aw, that was so sweet, I thought, while thinking he was harmless. Harmless my ass. I wish I knew then what I know now about him. He's a pervert and a date rapist.

What the Hell, I thought, I wasn't doing anything tonight anyway. I was growing a bit wearing of sitting on the couch staring at the television with the cat sitting in my lap purring, while I'm seething with horniness. Besides, I don't think I have any food in the house other than a box of macaroni and cheese and a can of soap.

"Sure, what time," I asked?

"I'll pick you up at 6:30. The show starts at 8pm, but with the traffic and parking, I just thought that we'd leave--"

"Sure," I said. "Let me get a paper and pen to give you my address."

I walked to my desk wishing Tom would have asked me out instead of Jim. I would have preferred going the Cirque du Soleil with my cute co-worker than with the soon to be bald guy. No matter, except for seeing it on television, I've never seen the Cirque du Soleil and always wanted to go.

Well, we attended the show and it was really good. Jim turned out to be a great guy. He's intelligent, witty, and charming. He made me laugh. He made me forget about his receding hairline.

We went out to eat at this new Asian place. He had the yellow fin tuna and I had the duck. The restaurant was a little pricy and I offered to go Dutch, but he insisted on paying for that, too. I had never been treated to this expensive of a date. Most of my dates are movies and a burger. Easily between the parking, the show, and now dinner at this swanky, Avant-garde place, he spent $300.

I was nervous at dinner, especially thinking of what would happen next, when I was thanking him for a pleasant evening. It's been a while since I've been on a date and with a man. I was undecided if I should kiss him or not and/or invite him in my apartment or not. Definitely, I'd never go back to his place. I really don't know him all that well to do that. He may be a psycho for all that I know.

Anyway, because I was nervous, I had one too many drinks at dinner. I never ever have more than two drinks when out with the girls. Normally, I only have one drink. Well, that night I had three Mai Tai's and the rum went straight to my head. What was I thinking?

When we drove out of the parking lot, I wasn't paying attention. I was busy fiddling with the radio station, while making light, witty, and inebriated conversation, no doubt, with Jim. When I finally stopped talking and paid more attention to the road, I didn't know where we were. All I knew was he had parked his car overlooking the water somewhere. It was a nice view, but Jim wasn't parked there for the view. He was parked there for me.

Suddenly, I was uncomfortable, nervous actually. This was our first date after all. I had only thought about giving him a good night kiss. I certainly didn't want to be making out with him. Yeah, he was a nice guy and he spent a lot of money on me, but if he thinks he's going to French kiss me, he's out of his mind. I don't do that on a first day, unless I really like the guy.

Only, in hindsight, I can see now that he thought I may have given him the wrong signals. I was a little drunk and a lot horny. Partly, it was my fault. I encouraged him by returning his kiss when he kissed me and had I not been a little bit drunk, I never would have slipped him my tongue in return, but I did. I'm so bad, but I was so very horny.

My hand rested on his thigh only because it was a small car and there was no other place to put my hand, other than in my lap, which is where I should have kept it. Then, when he turned to put his arm around me and twisted his body more to face me, my hand was resting on that bulge that was probably his cock. I can see how he'd take that as a green light.

Honestly, I didn't know my hand was resting where it was. When it took me a few minutes to realize where I was and I still didn't know where we were, do you think I'd notice that my hand was resting on his cock? I didn't realize my hand was in contact with his cock until I felt it pulsating through his pants. Certainly, in hindsight, I could see how he may have mistook me slipping him my tongue and my hand resting on his cock, as me wanting him, but I didn't. I was just a little bit drunk.

I know, it was wrong, but I had been terribly horny for so long and his pulsating cock felt good in my hand. Between the alcohol I consumed, his kisses, and now with my hand in contact with his cock, I was beginning to get a little sexually excited. I'm only human. It was the perfect storm for a terrible misunderstanding.

I mean, his cock wasn't out of his pants, but I could feel it throbbing against my palm through his pants. Inadvertently and involuntarily, now that I think about it, I may have squeezed and rubbed his pulsating cock through his pants with my hand. I could see now how he'd misinterpret that as me wanting him. What was I thinking? Unfortunately, I wasn't.

I remember figuring that, if he tried to touch me, I'll let him feel my tits, while kissing me, but only through my blouse and bra. There's no harm in that, feeling a woman's tits while kissing her. I know guys like to do that, feel as though they've made it to second base. So long as he doesn't take out my tits, what's the big deal?

Yet, definitely, I remember thinking, I'm not giving him a blowjob, if that's all he wants. I've been down that road before. I'm not that kind of a girl. Besides, this is only our first date and I'm not even attracted to him. He's almost bald.

To be honest, I remember having had the fleeting thought that I wouldn't mind giving him a hand job. Yeah, I wouldn't mind taking his cock out, holding it in my hand, and staring at it while stroking it, but that's as far as I'm willing to go. That's a lot especially just on the first date, French kissing me, feeling my tits through my blouse and bra, and now considering giving him a hand job. Definitely, he'd be satisfied with that on a first date. Right? That's enough, isn't it?

Had I not been a lot horny, I never would have allowed him to French kiss me, feel my tits through my blouse and my bra, and rest my hand on his throbbing cock. Definitely, I never would have considered giving him a hand job had I not had three Mai Tai's. Only, everything felt as if it was in slow motion. It took me longer to react to his touches. He must have figured he had a real live one and, in hindsight, I guess I was. In retrospect, I was drunk.

Only, his hand felt good when he touched my breast through my blouse and bra, especially when he rubbed his big palm across my nipples. Immediately, I could feel my nipples respond and grow erect and I felt a slight dampness between my legs. Horny to begin with, had it not been for the alcohol, he never would have gotten this far this fast. Slow down buddy, I wanted to say, but the words came out all slurred. Even I couldn't understand what the Hell I was trying to say.

Then, I remember, his hand shocked me when it touched skin and his fingers felt my nipple. I looked down and my blouse was unbuttoned, splayed open actually, and my bra was exposed to him. When the Hell did he unbutton my blouse? How did he unbutton my blouse without me knowing and feeling that? Am I that drunk? I am. I am that drunk. I'm plastered. I needed for him to take me home.

"Wait. Stop. Hold on, Jim. You're getting the wrong idea," I said trying to button my blouse but having the hardest time finding the holes with those little buttons.

It one quick movement of his finger, he lifted my bra over my breasts and my tits were out and exposed for him to see and enjoy. His big hands were all over my small breasts. It took me a few seconds to realize that he had my tits out and when I did, I was totally embarrassed. He had crossed the line, now. While I was trying to corral the girls back in my barn, Jim already had my skirt raised nearly up to my waist with his other hand buried between my legs. Trying to stop him from molesting me in one part of my body, he was already on to another.

"Jim! Stop. Don't."

He made me feel naked. He made me feel used. I felt so abused. He made me feel dirty.

How many hands does this guy have? I'd hate to compete against him at the sale counter at Macy's. I wouldn't get a thing and I'd leave there without my clothes.

I haven't had a guy all over me like this since I was 18-years-old at Prom night. I remember, I was drunk then, too, and with the low cut dress I was wearing, my date had easy access to my tits. He was all over my boobs, feeling them, fingering my nipples, and sucking my tits, while somehow being able to remove his cock from his pants. I still can't believe I sucked his cock. The first time I had blown anyone.

Never is when I'll fall for that again. Yet, here I am going through the same thing. What do I have a sign on my back? Rape me?

Every time I turned my head to complain, he'd stick his tongue in my mouth. When I pushed one hand away from my breasts, the fingers of his other hand was pushing my panty aside and his finger was trying to insert itself inside me. Okay, that felt good, his finger knew just where to touch me but, c'mon, seriously, I haven't had quickie sex since my college days, when we had no other place to do it but the backseat of a car. And this was our first date. He made me feel so cheap.

When I tried to remove his hand and put them in his lap, I felt skin. My hand brushed his cock. I looked down and I couldn't believe my eyes. His cock was out of his pants. He had his cock out. I couldn't believe it. I was shocked. His naked cock was out of his pants and sticking straight up.

What did I pass out? Where the Hell was I when he was taking my tits out of my bra, hiking my skirt up to my waist, and pulling out his cock. This date is out of control. This date is over. My red warning sirens were sounding and all the red flags were up that this date needed to end now. If I stayed with this guy any longer, after he made me pregnant, I'd be on the Maury Povich Show asking to have a DNA test done to prove that the baby was his.

"Jim, I want to go home. Take me home, please. I'm serious. I'm not kidding," I said with slurred speech. My cheeks on my face were numb and I just couldn't get my tongue to work.

"Just touch me, first," he said.

"What? Touch you? No," I said. "I'm not going to give you a hand job, Jim. I'm not that kind of girl. This is just our first date. What is wrong with you? How can you disrespect me like this? Take me home. I want to go home, now."

"Jennifer, just feel my cock. Please?"

What the Hell, I had already agreed to give him a hand job in my mind anyway. Maybe if I stroke him and allow him to cum, he'll calm down and take me the Hell home. So, I wrapped my hand around his cock and reluctantly, slowly, stroked him.

"Okay, but you need to act like a gentlemen and stop attacking me," I said looking up at him, while I continued giving him a hand job.

Actually, his hard cock felt good in my hand. It had been a while since I had touched a guy in this way. I couldn't remember the last time I gave a guy a hand job.

"Okay, I will," he said, "if you stroke me a little bit more and a little faster."

"Yeah? What's a little bit? A hand job? You'd like me to jerk you off, wouldn't you?" I looked up at him with my big blue eyes. "You'd be happy to cum all over my hand, wouldn't you?"

I couldn't believe it when I started fondling his cock with my fingertips, while stroking it. It just felt so good in my hand and he was so very hard. Besides, I always liked the control that I feel when I'm masturbating a man. Definitely, he had a nice cock and it had been a while since I held one in my hand, too long, apparently, for me to be so enamored with his cock.

It felt good to play with him. It was just a hand job, after all. What's the big deal?

"Oh, yeah, Jennifer, that feels good," he said closing his eyes and putting his head back. "Only, can I play with your tits, while you play with my cock?" His eyes popped open and he looked over at me. "It gets me excited, when I can play with your tits, while you play with my cock. Please, Jennifer, please can I play with your tits."

I really hate it when a guy begs for sex. It makes him look so needy and it turns me off and makes me not want to have sex with him.

"Gees, Jim, I give you an inch and you want a mile. What if you play with my nipples through my bra?"

"Okay," he said, only when he reached for my bra, he lifted up my bra again and his hand was all over my naked tits.

This guy is so fast. What the Hell, he had seen and felt my naked tits already anyway. To be honest, it felt good for him to feel my boobs while fingering my nipples, but I couldn't help feeling a little manhandled and I didn't like that. I was starting to feel taken advantage of and forced. What started out with me returning his kiss had quickly escalated to him taking out my tits, finger fucking me, and now me giving him a hand job.

I needed for this date to end. I needed for him to take me home. To save whatever dignity and modesty I had left, I really needed to get away from this guy.

I knew what he'd want next. He'd want me to suck his cock. I needed to end this now. He needed to drive me home. This date is over and I mean it.

"I think this is enough for one night, Jim. Take me home please," I said removing my hand from around his cock and putting my tits back in my bra again, while buttoning my blouse, and fluffing down my skirt. I sat up in the seat waiting for him to put his cock in his pants and start the car. I was beginning to sober up by now.

"Oh, no you don't," he said with a tone to his voice that I didn't like. "You're nothing but a cockteaser," he said. "You're nothing but a little slut."

"Cockteaser? A slut? No I'm not," I said.

This guy really knew how to treat a lady. He wasn't scoring any points with me, that's for sure. I just wanted to go home.

"Yes, you are," he said. "You're a cockteaser."

What is this guy still a teenager? I haven't heard anyone use the word cockteaser and ten years.

"How dare you? You're the one who practically raped me by unbuttoning my blouse, taking my tits out of my bra, and pushing my panty aside to finger fuck me. You're the one who pulled out your cock. You're the one who has been forcing himself on me."

"You had your hand on my cock and was feeling me through my pants right from the start," he said. "I'm not taking you home until you put my cock in your mouth."

"Fuck you," I said. "How dare you? I'm not going to give you a blowjob, Jim. You're such an asshole. Get that out of your mind right now, because that's not happening. I'm not sucking your cock."

As soon as I said that, he put a hand around my neck and pulled me down to his lap. He was so strong, too strong for me to fight him. When I refused to take his cock in my mouth, he rubbed his big, hairy thing all over my face. I closed my eyes, scrunched up my face, and pursed my lips together. He was a son-of-bitch, dirty bastard, no good fucking asshole.

"Suck it," he said. "Suck it. Suck my cock, Jennifer. Blow me. Take my cock in your mouth and suck it. Blow me and I'll drive you home."

"Fuck you," I said. "Jim you let go of me right this instant," I said in my best meaning business voice, while talking through my teeth, afraid to open my mouth, "or I'll scream."

"Go ahead and scream," he said. "No one can hear you."

I opened my mouth and let out the biggest wail that I could, only he silenced me by filling my mouth with his cock. Gees, he was practically gagging me with the thing. He was humping my head with his hips and really fucking my face. He was hurting me.

"Wait, wait," I said trying to talk with his big cock in my mouth. "I'll blow you, okay? I'll blow you. Only, stop humping my mouth. Stop. You're hurting me. You're going to loosen my teeth."

"Sorry," he said.

Sorry? Big fucking deal. I was angry that I had to suck this asshole off, just so he'd take me home, but I did. I got more comfortable and stroked him harder with my hand, before taking him in my mouth again. I was hoping he'd cum with a hand job, so that I wouldn't have to blow him, only he didn't.

Then, while his cock was in my mouth and I was blowing him, when he was about to cum and I could feel when he was getting ready to unload, when I tried to pull away so that he wouldn't cum in my mouth, he put his hand to the back of my head and wouldn't allow me to pull up. He was such a fucking asshole. I really didn't want him to cum in my mouth. I didn't even know the man. I really didn't want to swallow him, but he left me no choice.

He held my head there until he shot his warm, oozy cum in my mouth and down my throat. He was such a dirty pig. What a miserable asshole. Never again will I go out with him. This was the first and last time. I have a good mind to report him to the police.

Finally, he let me up and before I could even finish buttoning my blouse, he reached his hands up my skirt and on both sides of me and as if he was tearing cellophane from a lollipop, he had my panties pulled down to my ankles. I pushed against his chest when he climbed on top of me. I tried to knee him in the balls, but he already had his cock positioned by my pussy lips. With a hump and a push, he was inside of me. He was fucking me. Not to be denied, this guy was an animal.

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