No is Supposed to Mean No

"Jim! Wait. Don't. Stop! At least put a fucking condom on. Okay? What the fuck! God, you're such an asshole."

All that I could think was I was going to get pregnant and have a bald baby that looked like him.

"If I pull out, you won't fuck me," he said.

"I'll fuck you. I will. I promise. Okay? Just put a fucking condom on, please. And after I fuck you, take me home."

"Okay," he said. "I will."

"Promise," I said.

"I promise," he said.

"Can we at least go in the backseat?" I asked turning to look at his backseat. "There's more room there and at least I'd be more comfortable in back. There's no room in the front seat for my legs, especially with you on top of me."

"Sure," he said. Being the gentlemen that he is, when he got out of the car and came around the other side to open my door, I locked all the doors.

Then, I climbed over the console and got in the driver's seat. Jim pounded on the window screaming. With his pants down around his ankles, I drove off nearly running him over. I left him stranded there and drove myself home. I parked his car a few blocks from my house and pitch his keys down the sewer. Not telling him where I parked his car, the car stayed there more than a week before the police found it and towed it away.

That was my date with Jim. Never again. Hey, at least, I'm not feeling horny anymore.