Robyn's Rage

Becoming alarmed, I gazed up into my lovers face just in time to see the handsome features I knew so well begin to twist and contort as at the same time his thrusts became wild and erratic.

This was truly scary; the boy I loved was changing before my eyes. What was happening?

The thrusts became wild and violent, slamming hard into me until a sharp stabbing pain shot though my vulva.

"Oh Jesus I'm..." his voice was little more than a croak.

And then for the first time in my life I felt the unmistakeable feeling of a man's body reaching climax and beginning to ejaculate inside me. Something deep within me swelled, Johnny's body twisted and flexed above mine, driving his cock mercilessly into my vagina where it throbbed and pulsed, discharging its load of semen high up against my cervix.

"Jesus Robbbiieeeee!"

Johnny's cock throbbed and pulsed inside my over-sensitised vagina for a long time before the last spurts of semen left his body, entered mine and he finally became still. I looked up into his eyes, relieved to see that the familiar, handsome, caring face was returning, though it was now flushed red and sweating.

We stared at each other; real tears running down my cheeks then for the first time, I felt the strange, unexpected sensation of a man's cock beginning to soften inside me. I could hear myself panting for breath as my tingling, throbbing body slowly began to cool.

One thought went over and over in my mind; Johnny had taken my virginity. He had made love to me. The boy I loved had wanted me enough to make me his. He had penetrated me, cum inside me and throughout the whole of my defloration only a handful of words had been spoken.

I felt confused, bewildered and extremely vulnerable; the defensive carapace of my tomboy existence had been completely shattered. For the first time in my life, I felt vulnerable like a girl. It was truly frightening.

"Did I hurt you Robbie?" Johnny eventually panted.

His voice was soft and concerned as he rolled off me, pulling his flaccid cock from my body then lying close by my side on the sand. I shook my head as my body began to come to terms with what had happened. I still couldn't speak; too confused to understand and afraid any words I might choose would be wrong.

"Robbie? Are you okay?" he asked. Again all I could do was nod.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me..." he began.

"It's... it's all right," I interrupted. My voice had returned but was shaky and tearful.

I sat up on the sand, pulling my knees up under my chin, hiding my freshly-violated vulva from the man who had just taken my most precious possession. Ashamed, I couldn't look him in the eye.

"Robbie I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I mean, I couldn't help myself..." he protested.

'Don't say that! Don't apologise! Don't say it was an accident!' I silently begged.

"Was it your first time?" he asked, stroking my arm with his fingers.

"Y... yes," I confessed.

"I thought it might be," he continued. "I'm so sorry Robbie. It was a mistake."

'Don't say that! It wasn't a mistake! Tell me how lovely it was,' I begged silently. 'Tell me how you love me!'

The tears were falling quickly now.

"Did I really hurt you?" he asked

'Not as much as you're hurting me now,' I thought but outwardly just shook my head.

"We're still best friends, right?" he was continuing, trying to jockey me along.

I nodded again as I tried to find my knickers to cover my battered body.

"You don't hate me, do you?"

'Of course I don't hate you! I love you! I love you! I love you!' I silently screamed inside.

"I mean it's not as if you told me to stop, is it? You did want it too, didn't you Robbie?"

'More than anything else in the world!' I thought but again could not say.

I nodded again silently as I wriggled my sea-soaked knickers over my sore bottom and lower back, wincing as the salty gusset touched my freshly-violated vulva.

"So it was just a bit of fun? A bit of exploration between friends? It just went a bit too far?"

'No! It was the single most important event in my life!' was what I wanted to say but the words wouldn't come.

"Okay..." my voice finally returned, wobbly and soft but blessedly under my control.

"So we are still friends?"

"I guess so."

I forced the words out though the lie hurt almost as much as my deflowering. Surely we were much more than friends now; we had always been close friends but after this...

"Still Batman and Robyn?" he asked, his face smiling hopefully.

I smiled back and laughed. It was an unconvincing smile and a hard, forced laugh but it was what was expected of Tomboy Robbie.

Apparently relieved, Johnny rose to his feet and pulled his pants and shorts up over his dark red, flaccid cock. Even in its soft state, I was still amazed that it had all fitted inside my little, tight vagina.

"I'd hate to think I'd just ruined our friendship," he said as he helped me to my feet with a boyish tug. "I couldn't bear it if we weren't friends."

"It's okay," I whispered, lying through my teeth.

"I mean you're like..."

'Don't say it! Don't say it!' I thought desperately as I pulled up my own damp shorts, guessing the words that would come out next; the last words I wanted to hear at that moment.

"You're like a sister to me."

'No!' I wailed inside.' I'm not your sister! I've never wanted to be your sister! I want to be your wife!

"And I'd never do anything to hurt you!"

'I don't care about the pain. Just tell me you love me! Tell me you've always loved me! Tell me you want to be with me forever!' My inner voice was shouting now. 'Tell me you want to marry me like I want to marry you!'

But Johnny's inner voice was not like mine.

"Can we still be friends, Robbie? Really good friends?"

It took all my self control to say the words. It wasn't what I wanted; it had never been what I wanted. But I couldn't let myself be more humiliated than I had already been so with gritted teeth I forced myself to tell the greatest lie of my short life.

"Of course we can, Johnny," I said as I led us from the beach, wiping the tears from my eyes with my salty hand. "It's okay. We just got a bit carried away, that's all."

The look of relief on his face was painful for me to see.

"So we're still best friends?"

"Of course. This never happened," I blinked back the tears as I lied and lied.

"Batman and Robin again, right?" he insisted.

"Batman and Robin!" I replied though it hurt so much to say it.

I straightened my bra and T-shirt and adjusted my knickers and shorts, hating myself for saying those terrible words. My heart ached and I felt sick.

As we walked back to the village, Johnny kept up a stream of light-hearted reminiscences obviously designed to try and stop me thinking of what had just happened and to remember our long relationship as 'just good friends'.

It didn't work. In the space of fifteen minutes, I had been taken to the heights of elation then plunged into the depths of despair; and I couldn't let the boy I loved know about either.

As we neared our homes, I felt a trickle of something sticky running down the inside of my thighs and literally ran into the house to clean myself before either Johnny or my parents could see.

***

I was there to wave him goodbye an hour later, a massive tearful girly-outburst bubbling away deep inside me, hidden firmly under my tomboy facade. I couldn't show weakness; Tomboy Robbie never showed weakness. Though my heart was breaking, I stood and waved, smiling, dressed in my best boyish camouflage clothes as if nothing had happened.

But something definitely had happened. I wasn't the same girl any more.

Less than an hour after taking my virginity, my best friend; my first and only lover was leaving me for two full years, me a teeming mass of mixed up emotions.

I should have hated him but I didn't. I loved him more than ever and wanted him even more!

***

I cried myself to sleep that night and the night after, my mind and body a mess of confusion. In the space of an hour and a half I had been to both heaven and hell; I had given the most precious thing I had to the boy I loved only to deny its importance and pretend it hadn't mattered minutes later.

For most of the week I was unusually quiet and subdued, something my concerned parents put down to my best friend going away. They were very patient for the first couple of days, less so as the week progressed but of course I couldn't possibly tell them what had really happened.

It took nearly three days for me to realise that my first ever sex had been unprotected and that I might be pregnant. I was so naive that getting the 'morning after' pill never occurred to me so I had more sleepless nights and a lot of grumpy, morose days waiting for my period to come.

When the bleeding finally did start, Mum and Dad couldn't understand why I was suddenly so relieved. One evening I even heard them talking about 'late puberty' and how I had always been 'difficult to understand'.

Eventually however, I was able to put on a brave face and Tomboy Robbie had to get on with the rest of her life.

My exam results hadn't been good enough to go either to University or get on a training scheme so I stayed at home and got a job in the village pub, partly behind the bar, partly in the restaurant. To my credit -- few things are -- I worked hard and was good at it. The hours were unsocial but I didn't want much of a social life anyway so it suited me well.

Apart from in his first, long, apologetic email, Johnny never referred to my defloration again. I of course could never mention it at all so the incident quickly faded into the past - as far as Johnny knew anyway -- but for me, it had changed everything.

At first Johnny told me lots about his new life in his messages; his new job, his new friends, his new house but, although he offered to put me up in London on a visit, I always declined. It would be simply too painful to be alone with him again after what had happened between us and what I so badly hoped would happen again.

Eventually the correspondence between us slowed, finally to only a trickle but my love for him remained as undiminished as it was unrequited. The stash of unsent letters and pink-coloured drawings under my bed grew larger and, now I knew what it was really like, my fantasies about being in bed with him became much more detailed and much more involving.

In real life however, I remained stubbornly celibate despite the many opportunities that come the way of a friendly barmaid.

There was only one boy for me, and I was going to have him, however long it took!

Chapter 2 -- Marriage and Manipulation

It was just a year after Johnny Preston, the boy I loved more than anything in the world had deflowered me on the beach then left me.

In a surge of unexpected and uncontrolled passion that had stunned us both, my childhood friend had passionately taken my virginity in the long grass then, less than an hour later, had left the village for two years' training with a Corporate Finance Company in London.

It had been the first time since the age of four that Johnny and I had been apart. And, even without the emptiness of losing my first lover, it would have hurt badly!

Robyn and Jonathan had been separated.

Robbie and Johnny were apart.

Robin had lost her Batman.

In truth, our copulation had been completely unplanned, unexpected and I suspect had been as much a shock for Johnny as it had for me, though the physical consequences of losing my virginity had been quite different. Afterwards, in true Tomboy Robbie style, I had pretended it hadn't mattered; that it was just two good friends getting a bit carried away in the emotion of his departure and going a bit too far.

But that hadn't been true. That hadn't been true at all; I had been in love with Johnny most of our lives. He was the only boy for me; the only boy I could ever love; the only boy worthy of claiming my virginity.

And now he had taken it; wherever in the world he went, he was mine!

For this reason, the news of Johnny's engagement to a woman I hadn't even heard of hit me like bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky. The first inkling came from social media but it was soon confirmed by his parents. Johnny had met a girl called Jackie, had fallen in love with her and now they were going to get married.

I was horrified; my Johnny was marrying someone else; someone who wasn't me? This was almost unbearable! I immediately set off to find out all I could about the new love in his life.

Using social media as never before, I cyber-stalked his new fiancée Jackie, quickly learning that she was a freelance graphic designer who came from a rich family and who had been working in the office next to his. Though nearly ten years older than him, you would never have guessed it from her pictures; she was a tall, slender, very metropolitan girl in her thirties with long, wavy blonde hair and a fit, athletic figure.

I had to admit she looked sophisticated and absolutely stunning. I felt simply outclassed.

According to his parents, they had met one lunch time through mutual friends and had fallen in love almost at first sight. The engagement had come after only three months with the intention of getting married a few months after that. Johnny's parents thought it was all a bit too rushed and that Jackie was perhaps a bit older than ideal but had to admit that she was 'a lovely girl' and that they both seemed very much in love.

Needless to say, I cried myself to sleep in for several nights; in secret of course -- Tomboy Robbie didn't cry, did she?

We were, of course, all invited to the wedding; a very smart affair in a London registry office with a superb dinner afterwards in a restaurant overlooking the Thames.

Despite our best efforts -- even I was rather uncomfortably wearing a dress instead of my usual jeans and T-shirt - all of us from the village felt overawed and intimidated both by our surroundings, by the bride's expensive, sophisticated appearance and by her equally intimidating friends.

I was disappointed to see that Johnny seemed very much at home in his new, urban environment.

You cannot imagine how painful it was for me to sit quietly in the Registry Office and watch the only man I had ever loved getting married to someone else. But of course, as Tomboy Robbie I couldn't possibly show either emotion or weakness and when the time came, I greeted my rival with all the warmth and sincerity I could muster.

To my surprise, Jackie greeted me with genuine warmth in return saying how much Johnny had told her about me and how she hoped so badly that the two of us would be become good friends.

I thought that was unlikely but didn't say so. Instead I waved enthusiastically as they headed off on honeymoon, trying not to imagine the two of them in bed together as newly-weds.

Unsurprisingly, Johnny and my correspondence dwindled yet further.

***

It was a year after the wedding when Johnny's first big City Bonus came through and he and Jackie bought Fiddler's Cottage in our village. On banking scales, the bonus was trivial compared with the millions earned by the Bank's dealers but for such a young man it was a life-changing amount.

His decision to buy and renovate the historic but nearly derelict cottage close to the seafront was met with almost universal praise by family and friends alike. Apart from improving a local eyesore, it meant that the young lad hadn't forgotten his roots though it was believed his rich, London-born wife was less keen on the idea.

Whatever her views were, they didn't prevent the sale going through and within weeks Fiddler's Cottage was theirs. A brief period of intensive renovation took place then the couple arrived for their first big visit, announcing their intention to spend most weekends there to get away from the stresses of the Big City.

As you can imagine again, it was unspeakably painful for me to see my beloved Johnny 'playing houses' with his pretty wife, the look on his face showing just how deeply in love he was. I tried hard not to be alone with him or even with them both but it wasn't always possible, especially as I still worked in the village's only pub.

They looked the perfect couple as they walked along the seafront hand in hand; the tall, athletic, handsome husband with his slender, blonde, beautifully-dressed wife. Although they looked somewhat out of place among the village's ancient residents, they looked so right together that my heart ached and I had to work extra hours in the pub to keep my mind occupied.

But however out of place they might have looked, to my amazement and hers, metropolitan Jackie fell in love with Fiddler's Cottage on that very first weekend.

"It's the perfect place for me to do my creative work," she announced in the pub one Sunday lunchtime before the two of them returned to their Docklands flat. "I'd like to spend a few days there every week. I could sell the studio in Putney and save a small fortune."

And so the new phase in their lives began; Johnny worked in the City all week and returned to his wife in Fiddler's Cottage on Friday evenings. Obviously both his parents and mine were delighted to see so much more of him and to think he valued the place he grew up in so much.

For me it was a mixed blessing; I loved seeing more of the boy I adored but to do that, I had to accept the pain of seeing him in love and living with the woman who was occupying the place meant for me -- his wife.

What made it even worse was Johnny's eagerness that his new wife and his oldest friend should get on well; he insisted we saw more of each other whenever Jackie was in the cottage.

And what Johnny wanted, Johnny usually got so one morning I accepted her invitation to have coffee in one of the village's three coffee shops.

***

Jackie smiled uncertainly as I approached her table, cup in hand. She looked out of place in the village cafe, her smart London clothes and expensive haircut attracting lots of attention from the regulars. Stunningly attractive, even close up; no-one would believe she was nearly ten years older than her husband; once again I grudgingly admitted it wasn't hard to understand what Johnny had seen in her. In my faded jeans and sleeveless camouflage T-shire I felt very shabby in comparison.

I sighed, gritted my teeth then took a bold step forward.

"Hi," I smiled in what I hoped was a convincing way.

"Hi Robyn," she smiled back, rather formally half rising to her feet.

We shook hands a little awkwardly, kissed an equally awkward hello then I sat myself down opposite the girl I considered my enemy and gave her my most endearing look.

"How are you settling in?" I asked. Jackie grimaced.

"It's always hard moving house, and it's hard to feel at home quickly in a new area -- especially one like this where everyone knows each other so well."

I could imagine; I wasn't the only one who considered Jackie an interloper from London. Despite being married to a local boy, it would take a long time for her to be accepted by the 'old' families in the village.

"And with Jonathan being away so much, it looks like I'll be spending a lot of time on my own until I can make new friends."

I winced as Jackie called my adored Johnny by his full name; it sounded so pompous. Quietly I thought the chances of this urban, sophisticated woman ever making close friends among the locals was very slim -- and would be even slimmer if I had my way. But right now it was important to make a good impression and to become friends so I took a metaphorical deep breath and forced myself to be amiable.

For a while we talked in the rather safe, bland way that strangers adopt on a first meeting. To my surprise and in the face of my natural hostility, I felt myself warming to this woman who, although outwardly cool and intimidating, was obviously just as vulnerable on the inside as the rest of us.