tagRomanceSad Lisa

Sad Lisa


[Author's note -- yet another true story, I changed some identifying details to protect the privacy to the people involved -- the girl is a friend of mine]


[6 years ago]

The headline caught my eye as I was skimming through the "Local news" section of the newspaper -- "13-year-old girl gang-raped by 2 14-year-old boys." More irritainment, I thought -- I don't want to know, but now I feel compelled to read it. I quickly read the story -- in the school 3 blocks from my own, a 14-year-old classmate had asked a 13-year-old named Lisa Stephenson if she could help him study for a quiz. Being very good at academics, she accepted. The two walked home, studied for a few minutes alone [the boy's parents worked until 7:00 at night], then a friend of the boy's had come by. Alone with the girl, the two boys had beaten her to a pulp, then stripped her and gang-raped her repeatedly. Apparently the whole thing had been a setup.

When my friend Tommy arrived a few minutes later, he had seen the article, too. "I don't believe it, Roger," he said. "Our age. You and I are both 14, and we would never do this." After we agreed that an appropriate torture would be to strip the boys, cut off their balls with a rusty knife and let them bleed to death, we went to the gym and took out our frustrations with the world on punching bags for 2 hours. I felt tired but better afterwards.

[Present day]

"Ok, class," the teacher said. "Your assignment is to write a 25-page paper on a food company of your choosing. You have the remaining 4 weeks of the summer term to complete it. You will work in pairs selected at random, right now." She reached into a hat. "Roger?" "Here!" I replied. "You will be paired with... [drawing a name from hat]... Jessica." 10 minutes later, we were all paired up. "Remember, class," said the teacher, "your assignment is due in 4 weeks, not a day later. Late papers will receive a grade of zero. You do not have to attend class between now and then, as I would like you to devote full attention to your paper. The 25 pages is the body of the paper only, NOT including cover pages, title pages, tables of contents, footnotes, bibliographies, or anything else. You are expected to supply those elements as well, of course. See you in 4 weeks, and good luck."

Jessica and I spent the next week solid in the library, reading books, checking websites for information on our company [we chose ADM], taking notes, and writing first an outline and then a preliminary 10-page draft. The one problem was that the library closed at 6 p.m. "Jess," I said as the librarian escorted us towards the door, "why don't we keep working at your place? Or mine? We could be much more productive, because we could work until whatever time we wanted."

"I don't know," Jessica replied. "I'm just not comfortable around boys. I wish I had been partnered with a girl."

"You seemed comfortable enough with me in there," I said as I gestured at the library. "So what's the difference?"

"I just don't like being alone with people of the male gender," she said. "I have my reasons."

I sighed. "The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable," I responded quietly. "However, that damn paper won't write itself. I think we need to spend more time on it than we've been spending."

It was Jessica's turn to sigh. "I know," she said. "Still..."

"Why don't we try it for an hour tonight?" I asked. "If it works, we can work later again tomorrow."

"One hour," Jessica said firmly, "is ALL you're getting. And you better keep your mind entirely on the paper. No appraising looks, offers of backrubs, why-don't-we-have-coffee-afterwards, or any hanky-panky."

"I don't recall asking you for a date," I said. "I promise to keep focused on the paper."

The next day, Jessica seemed more relaxed about the idea of working late. She still had her guard fiercely up, though. "OK, no time limits this time," she said. "But you will NOT do anything unprofessional in the slightest way."

"What if we get hungry later?" I asked.

"Then you will sit your ass down in a chair and proofread what we've done while I call for a pizza," was Jessica's response. "I hope you like mushrooms and olives, because it's MY apartment and therefore I make the decisions."

Something started tugging at the back of my mind about Jessica, but try as I might, I couldn't quite connect the dots. "Deal," I said.

We worked far into the night. We had eaten hot pizza at 9:00 and cold leftovers at 12:30 and were still grinding away at 2 a.m. My eyes were starting to close of their own volition, and Jessica was clearly running out of juice as well. I got up to locate a book in the other room, and returned to find her slumped over in front of the computer, eyes closed and snoring softly.

My natural chivalrous instincts took over. I gently slid my arms under her body and carried her into her bedroom. I laid her out flat on her bed, covered her with a blanket, and settled into a recliner on the far side of the room. Within minutes we were both sleeping peacefully.

I woke up, somewhat bleary-eyed, and it took a moment to place where I was. I yawned, stretched, and levered myself out of the chair. Just then I heard a rustling noise and turned to see Jessica shaking the sleep out of her eyes.

"What the... how did I get here?" she said, still half in dream world. "Roger? What are you doing here?"

"We worked ourselves to exhaustion last night, Jess," I said. "You passed out at the computer, and I had enough left to carry you to bed and collapse in that chair."

"You... carried me to bed? And you didn't strip me and steal a look? Or assault me? How is that possible?" she asked incredulously.

The connection I had been trying to find last night suddenly lit up. "Because I'm not a monster like those boys who raped you six years ago... Lisa." I replied. I was kicking myself for not seeing it before, but better late than never, I thought.

"What did you call me?" Lisa asked. "And, how..."

"Lisa Jessica Stephenson," I responded, "I read the article in the paper. Later that day I saw you go public with your name and what happened on TV, to try and make sure those animals would never do anything like that again to any other girl. I saw that they both died in juvey after provoking a fight and felt that the world was a little safer. I knew you looked familiar. I've been trying to think of where I knew your face. Then it all came together, which explains a lot. I am NOT like those boys. I know why you don't trust any men, but I feel I've earned a little trust. After we do our morning session, why don't we take a couple of hours and go sit by the pond and feed the ducks?"

"You're absolutely right about what happened back then," a visibly shaken Lisa responded. "Just talking about it brings back such bad memories. I don't know how to trust any male, now. Even though you're saying and doing all the right things, and I feel I should give you some benefit of the doubt, I still don't see how I'll ever be able to do that with any male."

"We can discuss that later, by the pond," I said. "In the meantime, we have a paper to write."

Two weeks later, we were just putting the finishing touches on a 27-page masterpiece. It was 5:00 in the evening, and we were done a week early. "This calls for a celebration of some kind," I said.

I had practically moved in with Lisa over the two-week period, spending every spare moment at her apartment. When we weren't working like demons, I was coaxing her to tell me everything. I never made any judgments, just listened and let her spill out her anger and frustration that had been building for 6 years. I knew I was making progress because by the end of the first week, she had been crying in my arms. That, she told me [when she realized what had happened] was the first time she had ever been exposed to loving, caring contact from a male her age.

"How about Chinese food?" Lisa asked. "I know a great little hole-in-the-wall a few blocks from here."

At the restaurant, she held my hand and looked straight into my eyes as we chatted over what was indeed a delicious meal. The whole time, she seemed to be wrestling with something in her mind, but as was my routine, I let her talk and didn't try to force anything from her. Finally, we got back to her apartment and she lay down next to me on the sofa, her head resting against my chest.

"Roger," she said slowly, "I've never been in a position like this. I would like to..."

Her voice trembled for a moment. "I don't know how to approach this... I trust you. I've never had any sort of consensual sexual contact." She sighed deeply, as if she had been trying to say that but her memories had been not letting her. "You have to promise to stop if I tell you to," she said.

"I promise," I said.

"Will you... kiss me?" she asked.

I held her slim body against my strong one. She was trembling slightly. I gently moved my face forward and touched her lips with mine. I ran one hand through her long, soft, flowing, dark-brown hair as I did so, then used it to caress her neck and shoulders very gently.

"What's next?" she asked. Her voice still had a nervous tremor in it.

"The next step would be a tongue-kiss," I replied.

"Okay," she said. I once again brought her face close to mine and gently kissed her, then slowly slid my tongue forward until it touched her lips. She parted then slightly and slid her tongue out to meet mine. I let her probe and swirl within my mouth before exploring hers. When we broke for air, she was smiling.

"That was very nice," she said. "Does everything feel this good?"

"If I do it right, I can make you feel even better than that," I smiled. "We'll have to move to a bed for the next part, only if you want to of course."

Two minutes later, we were in her bedroom and she was shaking again. "Take off my bra, too?" she asked. "Bu that would mean I'd be topless."

"Yes, Lisa," I replied. "It would also completely expose your back, and I can't rub your back unless I have access to the flesh. You don't have to do this, you know. I'll stop whenever you want."

She seemed to be wavering. I removed my shirt. "Look," I said. "I'm now topless, too. Does that make you feel more comfortable?"

A faint smile played on her lips, then she began to laugh -- the first real laugh I'd heard from her. "You're so sweet," Lisa giggled. "I really feel comfortable around you." She took off her bra and lay on her stomach.

I worked downward from her neck, moving slowly and working the tension out of her upper body. It seemed sometimes like 6 years' worth of tension was held in there. Her muscles had knots the size of hailstones in them, requiring me to lean my elbow directly on the knot to loosen it. By the time I got halfway down, her body was almost limp. She was still shaking slightly, though.

"How does it feel?" I asked.

"Roger, that feels very nice," she said. "I still can't shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen, though."

"Lisa," I replied, "I understand. I've worked very hard to get you this far, and I'm amazed that you haven't been more traumatized. I can't undo the past. All I can do is try to lead you to a better future."

I finished massaging her back and playfully ran my fingertips up and down her spine. She shivered with delight.

"Wow," she said in a half-moan. "That is the best sensation I've ever felt."

I removed my hands from her body and lay next to her. "I'm glad I made you feel happy, Lisa," I replied. "You've been sad for a long time."

"Why did you stop?" she asked.

"Because the next phase means removing your sweatpants," I said, "and I didn't know if you were up for it."

Lisa sighed. "Not tonight," she said. "I'm exhausted and want to sleep."

"Would it be all right if I shared your bed?" I asked. "That chair is playing hell with my legs when I sleep in it. I promise not to do anything."

"Ok," Lisa said. "But you have to keep your promise. And could you do me one favor?"

"Sure thing, Lisa," I replied.

"Just hold me, Roger," she said. "I've been afraid every time I've slept alone since... you know."

We got into bed and turned out the lights. Lisa snuggled up against me. I put my arms around her slim frame and felt her body relax as she lay her head against my shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered.

I closed my eyes and pretended to go to sleep. I was curious what her reaction would be. When she was convinced I was asleep, she gently ran her hand over my bare chest. I could hear her talking softly to herself. "I don't deserve this," she whispered. "I'm supposed to be alone, a loser, permanently damaged goods. Yet this boy comes in, knows who I am and doesn't judge. Can I trust him? So far yes. But what if he's like the others?"

I stirred softly. Lisa stopped whispering and threw her arms around me in a tight embrace. I pretended to be waking up. "I'm here, Lisa," I whispered. She kissed me. "I know," she said. We drifted off to sleep.

The next evening, she asked me what the "next phase" involved. "You strip completely," I said. "I rub you down with edible oil, then lick it off every part of your body."

"Well... last night did feel good," she said. "Okay, let's go to the bedroom."

She lay facedown again after stripping. I did her back with the same detail as the night before, then licked all the oil off of her skin. By the time I finished, she was moaning gently and whimpering with pleasure at the sensations running through her body. The legs were next, and I worked up her body slowly with my hands, careful to caress her inner thighs. She was on fire by this time and needed release, but continued my teasing by licking her from her toes to her butt, once again focusing on where her thighs joined her trunk. Some of her juices had already leaked out, and I savored the taste of her honey.

When I turned her over, she begged me to stop the teasing. "I can't stand any more," she said. "I want the high you're building me towards. " I obliged by spreading her open and sliding my tongue over her pussy-lips. She began to shake. I found her swollen clit and swirled my tongue around it, and she exploded with love juice. I licked up as much as I could, but she flooded the bed and covered my face.

"Oh, my," she said. "That was awesome."

I slid my tongue into her slit and began licking her out. I wanted more of her sweetness. She began grinding her hips up and down, trying to get me in as deeply as possible. I slid up a finger to circle her bud while I licked her. That got her superheated again, and in a few minutes she had another tremendous climax, flooding my face with her honey again.

I slid up next to her. She licked her cum off my face. "I taste good," she said. "I can't believe how nice that felt. Does it feel that way for you?"

"Yes, Lisa my dearest, it does," I said, holding her. "I'm not going to pressure you. Do whatever you want, or nothing."

She asked me to strip, then ran her ands playfully over my chest. My already hard rod began to twitch. "Hmmm," she said. "I see you like."

She switched from fingers to tongue, licking my flesh and biting my nipples gently. "I can't believe I'm doing this, Roger," she said. "I never thought I'd ever be able to have fun in bed, after..."

"Hush," I said. "That was then. I'm here now to be with you. Forget the past."

She switched her attention to my legs, kissing slowly up from my ankle to my hipbones. I couldn't believe how sensual her touch felt. She was so innocent, yet shadowed by darkness. My job, I told myself, is to lift the shadow.

She teasingly bit my kneecaps. I'm very sensitive there, and my body began shaking. Lisa noticed and lingered, teasing me until I thought I couldn't stand it any longer. "Oh, Lisa, that's nice," I whispered.

She finally made her way up to my torso again. Her fingers slid down to my balls and she ran her fingertips over them lightly. "My, they're heavy," she said. "I'll bet that feels good."

I could only moan gently. Lisa cupped them in her hand. She lowered her tongue and began licking. I squealed and started to squirm from excitement. "Oh, yeah," she said. "You've got a lot in there."

She slid her hand up and down the shaft as she continued to lick my most sensitive parts. "Does that feel good, Roger?" she said. "Would you like to release all this stuff?"

I moaned in reply. She stroked me harder and faster. I could feel my self approaching the inevitable. "Oh, yes!" I cried out, as she pumped a massive load out of my throbbing dick. It hit her everywhere -- hair, face, chest, hand, and legs.

"Amazing!" Lisa said. "We'd better get cleaned up."

In the shower, I held her against me as the water beat down. "Wash away the past," I said. "Let's make our future together."

Later that night, she let me have sex with her. It's been 6 months, and she's almost gotten over her fears. Eventually, I plan to ask for her hand in marriage. I'm just happy she no longer is "Sad Lisa."

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