She laughed again, this time an outright cackle. She laughed so hard that she nearly barfed. When she finally got it under control, she laid her forehead on the table to regain her composure.
When she finally looked up at me, she had another tear streaming down her cheek. "You were always such a fuckin' know-it-all, Derek. Some things never fuckin' change."
I nearly walked out right then and there. But there was something genuine about her tears. I wanted to know more.
I counted to ten before responding. "Okay, Holly. I'm sorry to judge so quickly -- I DON'T fuckin' know it all. Pretend like I'm a totally blank slate. Draw me a picture."
"Shit," she replied caustically, still muddled by her inebriation.
I waited again, intent on not letting her get me riled. At least she had added a different expletive to her vocabulary. And she really did seem like she needed someone to talk to, someone to look after her.
"Look, Holly," I offered, "you're talking about losing your virginity to a total stranger. That's not the girl I knew in school. There's got to be a reason." I laid my hand on hers, entwining her fingers in mine.
She lowered her lashes, then looked up at me with a teardrop-moistened smile. "You fuckin' really do CARE," she replied softly. A light seemed to flicker in her eyes, beginning to dispel her alcoholic haze.
I gave her a sheepish grin and shrugged my shoulders. "I just don't want to see an old friend make a mistake she may regret for the rest of her life. But I haven't walked a mile in your shoes..."
"Here's the deal, Derek -- and you have to SWEAR you'll never tell ANYBODY. Okay?"
"Okay -- sure, Holly."
She looked into my eyes, and I could see her sobriety visibly returning. She released my hand. "Okay, Derek -- it's like this. I was raised by a couple of very intelligent but very fuckin' screwed-up parents."
"Nothing unusual about that last part," I laughed.
She didn't laugh in return. "Do you want to hear what I have to say, or not?" she chided.
I realized this was no time for feeble humor. "Sorry, Holly -- go ahead."
"It's okay, Derek. I don't mean to be rude. I just really need to get this off my chest."
I resisted - with great difficulty - the immediate urge to look down at the part of her anatomy she had just named.
"I'm listening," I replied.
"My mom and dad always wanted the best for me. They pushed me in academics, in sports, in the fine arts. But they were -- and still are -- overbearing Catholics of the worst kind. Ever since I was entering puberty, they drilled into me the importance of saving my virginity until marriage."
I desperately wanted to drill something a little less spiritual into her. I'd been suffering from a massive erection for about an hour. If something needs to sink into you, let it be my cock, I telepathed silently. My close proximity to and frank discussion with this incredibly hot and intelligent woman -- whom I'd lusted over for half my life -- was getting the best of me.
"So why didn't you just ignore your parents?" I prompted.
"That's the crazy part, Derek. They didn't just teach it to me. They scared the hell out of me with it," she explained.
"How?"
"They didn't just talk about unwanted pregnancy, AIDS, venereal diseases and all that shit. Those are real enough, but you can protect against them."
"Then what?"
"They taught me about something I can't protect against. About the danger to my mortal soul -- that I can go to hell for deliberately consenting to sex outside of marriage."
"And you believe that?"
"I -- I don't know, Derek. I truly believed it when I was younger. I started to question it toward the end of high school. I sure as hell -- no pun intended -- don't WANT it to be true, but even the possibility it's true scares me shitless."
"I'm no theologian," I said, "but I can't picture God as being ready to throw you into a fiery pit for something like that. After all, who gave you hormones?"
"If you're going where I think you are with this, Derek, there's a logical flaw..."
"Just hear me out, Holly. If God made us, and we have hormones, don't you suppose God expects us to act on the impulses those hormones give us?"
"Well, I'd like to think so -- but that doesn't account for the logical flaw. We're supposed to be able to rise above our instincts. It's not like we have no say in the matter. The issue is not the act -- it's the consent."
"I see..." I replied, though I really didn't see. That's why I was shocked almost out of my shoes at what she said next.
"Of course, if I was RAPED, then there'd be no consent, and I'd get the experience without the danger to my mortal soul."
"Holly -- I'm shocked! Why in hell would you think in such positive terms about rape?"
"Why in hell, indeed? Because I'm scared shitless about GOING to hell, but I've been THROUGH hell for years, with feelings that I can't bring myself to act upon."
"But Holly -- women who get raped go through their own private hell. It's a TERRIBLE thing. They're scarred for life."
"That's why I'd want it to be someone who cared about me. Someone I trust..."
She simply wasn't making sense to me. "You're talking in oxymorons, Holly. Raped? By someone who CARES about you? How can a RAPIST be someone who CARES about you?"
"I'm talking about someone who wants to release me from my torment by taking away my consent - not a REAL rapist..." She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
The light bulb in my alcohol-impaired brain was slowly beginning to flicker on. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, Holly?"
"That I'm wondering if you have the balls -- and other equipment -- to help me out? Or are you still too much of a fuckin' goody two-shoes?"
I pondered my dilemma for only a moment. Then I made up my mind and grinned.
"There's only one pussy at this table," I managed to retort. "Let's get the hell out of here."
Holly smiled and raised a knowing eyebrow in my direction. "Catch me if you can!" she taunted as she stood up and walked toward the door.
I paid the tab and grabbed my Bosox cap. I found her lingering by the front door, then followed her out onto the sidewalk. A nice, warm September breeze blew her cascading black hair across her face.
I hailed a cab on the street just outside the bar. "Take us wherever she tells you to go," I told the driver.
Holly gave him directions to her apartment. It was close to Harvard, not far from the bar. It took only a few minutes to weave our way through traffic, though it seemed like an eternity.
Upon arrival, I paid the cabbie and sent him on his way with a hefty tip. Her apartment building was a stately old red brick Victorian.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" I asked her as we climbed the stairs to her apartment.
"Hell, no!" she exclaimed.
"Um... oh. Okay," I replied meekly.
She sighed and shook her head. "You're such a fuckin' pussy," she answered gruffly, unlocking her apartment door and then opening it. "Don't you fuckin' understand the importance of non-consent in this whole fuckin' thing?"
She flipped the lights on with the switch by the door, and I entered her apartment in front of her.
I decided it was time to play the role that she so desperately needed. I grabbed her by the wrists, pulled her inside, and slammed the door shut.
"Okay, Holly -- time to stop playing the fuckin' cock-tease! I'm going to make you my little slut! You're going to be begging me for more before the night is through!"
Her eyes widened, a look of genuine horror replacing the friendly sparkle that had shone in them a short while before at the bar. "D -- D -- Derek... I'm not sure I like you this way," she stuttered.
"I'm not sure I like being played for a fool, Holly. You deliberately got me all excited about taking your cherry, and now you're acting like you don't want to give it to me."
"But I DON'T want to give it to you, Derek. If you're going to have it, you're going to ha
ve to TAKE it."
"Careful what you ask for, little lady," I answered, releasing her wrists and grabbing her floral print cotton top right at her cleavage. I ripped it open, pulled it off of her and threw it on the couch.
She flinched and let out a cry. As she backed away from me, her lacy white C-cup bra teased me visually with its wispy frills. I soaked in the sight for a moment, then sprang into action.
I reached toward her and grasped the front clasp. I moved within inches of her and then held her legs immobile between my knees, to keep her from backing away further.
"Please -- DON'T, Derek! Please STOP!"
"No way, Jose!" I said, unhooking the clasp and tossing her bra to the floor. The creamy flesh of her ample breasts was hot to the touch. And touch them I did.
Tears began to stream down her face. "No, Derek, DON'T," she sniffled, pushing weakly at my shoulders with her dainty hands.
"Holly, I'm going to suck your tits, and there's nothing you can do to stop me," I declared.
"Nothing?"
"Not a thing," I replied with a smile. I leaned toward one beautiful breast and stuck my tongue toward her areole. I looked up before making contact, wanting to see Holly's reaction.
Her eyes were no longer alcohol-hazed, but displayed a haze of another kind. I interpreted it as a sexual haze. Her tongue slipped absent-mindedly between her lips, silently urging me to lick her nipple. Or was she instead expressing anxiety?
I took the globe of her breast in both hands, kneading her flesh while I took her erect nipple in my mouth. I laved her areole with my tongue, gently caressing her engorged flesh with my lips.
I looked up again and saw that her eyes were closed in silent bliss. Or was it fear?
I moved to the other tit and performed the same service. I reached my hand beneath her skirt. I slowly moved my hand upward underneath her skirt.
She slapped at my hand. "Derek, no. You CAN'T DO THAT!"
My hand continued its upward trajectory. "I CAN and I WILL, Holly," I boasted. I reached the crotch of her panties and began to prod the fabric with my fingers. I could feel her dampness through the cotton.
"PLEASE DON'T, Derek," she begged, "I don't want you to touch me there!"
"It doesn't matter what you WANT, Holly -- what matters is what you're going to GET!"
I crooked my index finger around the edge of the crotch of her panties and felt the moist warmth of her pussy. My finger probed and quickly penetrated her vaginal lips.
"NO, Derek, you CAN'T put your finger in there!" she shouted. She slapped at my arm.
I gently pulled my finger out of her cunt, then more roughly grasped and ripped her panties along the seam. I tossed them to the floor.
"I'll do MORE than TOUCH you there!" I threatened.
She momentarily froze, her hands at her sides. I took the opportunity to pull her skirt down over her slim hips, all the way to the floor. She began writhing away, so I grabbed her naked buttocks and pulled her toward me.
I lifted her up off the floor and gazed at her body. She was stark naked other than her shoes. She stopped struggling momentarily, watching me watch her.
Her pubic mound was as naked as the day she was born. It was clean-shaven, though I had expected it to be forested with hair as black as the raven-hued locks on her head.
She could surely see the lust in my eyes as I raised her higher off the ground. This was my dream girl, the one I'd wanted since I'd been old enough to want. Could she see the emotions that ran deeper than lust?
I carried her to her bedroom, turning on a bedside lamp after I laid her on the bed. She attempted to break free, but I held her legs apart and leaned on them.
"I'm going to lick your pussy," I announced.
Her eyes once again seemed to betray a mixture of surprise and excitement. Or was it mental shock?
"But Derek, you CAN'T. When a girl says NO, it means NO!"
I momentarily wondered whether I should indeed stop. She was right in what she said -- I just wasn't sure it was what she meant. In her warped world of mortal sins, she HAD to object in order for her non-consent to be legitimized.
But if she truly DID mean "no" -- I could be up shit creek and facing a jail term if I carried through on the rape.
I decided to trust my instincts, and trust what Holly had said to me earlier. Surely the judge would understand my confusion from the mixed messages. Or not.
I moved my head between her knees and then gently kissed her inner thighs, first one leg and then the other. I worked my way up toward the juncture of her legs. She wriggled and seemed to make a show of trying to break free.
I was near enough to my target to smell her musky vaginal scent. She put her hands on my head as if to push me away. I grabbed her wrists and said, "Be still -- you're going to LIKE this!"
"No, NO," she cried, "I won't like it at ALL! It's on YOUR head if you do this to me!"
I chose to ignore her protests. It was the neurosis speaking, I told myself.
I kissed all the way to her hairless cunt, then stuck out my tongue and licked languorously along her slit.
I had already felt that she was wet when I had plunged my finger in her twat before ripping her panties off. Now I was aiming for creating sensation, not moistness -- foreplay to rape, so to speak.
As my tongue became more voracious, Holly's body began to shudder. I chose to think it was from an approaching orgasm -- or was she crying?
I plunged my tongue deep into her vagina, tongue-fucking her for a few minutes. I then penetrated her love tunnel with three fingers. I began sucking her clit, hoping to finish off her orgasm as I plunged my fingers deeper. But I never felt the tell-tale clenching of her release.
I decided it was time for the main event. "I'm going to let go of your legs and stand up now," I said, "but don't try to get away, or I'll have to hurt you!"
I couldn't believe those words came from my mouth. There was no way in hell I'd ever deliberately hurt Holly Grandal. But she needed to be coerced in order to keep her conscience clean.
I kept telling myself that I was playing a necessary role. Tell that to the judge, my inner voice berated me.
She watched me suspiciously, her legs still splayed apart. I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my socks. I unbuttoned my jeans, pulled down the fly and yanked them down.
Her eyes grew wider as I stood before her in my jockey shorts and Red Sox jersey. My raging hard-on threatened to burst through my jockey shorts.
In a moment, my jersey was on the floor and my fingers were on the waistband of my underwear.
"You're not going to take those OFF, are you?" she asked with a wail.
"Of course, little lady -- I'm going to make your pussy mine!" I asserted with a swagger.
"NO -- NO! You CAN'T DO THIS TO ME, Derek!" she screeched.
"Just watch me, baby," I retorted. With that, I pulled my jockey shorts off and threw them aside.
My rigid boner was pointing toward the ceiling. I thought I heard a gasp from Holly's direction.
As I knelt back on the bed, she clamped her knees together.
"You don't want me to have to pry those apart," I said mockingly, "I have a package to deliver to you, so open up the mailbox!"
I gently prodded her legs apart, and she gave in with a whimper. Her hairless cleft was so inviting, I couldn't wait to get my cock inside of it. My dream girl was about to be mine.
I hope it's worth the prison time, my inner voice taunted me.
With my knees between hers, I began to massage Holly's breasts with my palms. She wiggled from side to side as if to escape my touch, but it just made her tits jiggle and got me more excited.
"I have to have you," I said calmly, "I've wanted this for so long."
Holly stopped struggling and looked up at my face. A tear leaked from her eye and she began to tremble. "Don't send me to hell," she whispered obliquely.
I took her wrist in my hand and guided it toward my cock. I wrapped her fingers around my erect penis.
I could feel her hand shaking as she held my prick. It was almost more erotic than having her stroke it.
"Okay, baby, I'm going to get lined up with you, and I want you to guide me in," I directed.
"You're going to have to be the one to do it," she replied quietly.
I nodded my assent. She may -- or may not -- want me to do this, but given her neurotic fears, she couldn't admit as much by helping me to enter her.
I took the lead and removed her hand from my cock, but kept her hand in mine. I used my other hand to guide my cock to her pussy. Once there was contact, I rubbed my dick up and down her moist slit to lubricate my manhood.
"Holly, you've always been my dream girl. Now I'm going to make you my woman," I told her honestly.
I pushed gently against her folds with my stiff and slick penis. I thought I felt her raise her hips toward mine, but the movement was so slight that it might have been an involuntary twitch.
"Holly, if you're really a virgin, this might hurt -- but only for a minute. Don't try to stop me. I've gone too far to pull back now."
I gulped with a strange mixture of trepidation and anticipation.
I pushed forward with my hips, feeling her slick labia spread apart to accept my aching, throbbing cock. I pushed part-way in and hit a barrier. She was a virgin indeed!
I grasped her ass cheeks and pulled her toward me. She stiffened and inhaled a sharp, wincing intake of breath. I held still for a moment.
Suddenly, my cock slid deeper inside her. I had taken her cherry! I began thrusting vigorously.
"Now you're mine, Holly, and I'm gonna spray my seed inside you. I don't fuckin' care if you get pregnant." I put my arms around her shoulders and squeezed her toward me.
"Oh, my GOD, Derek -- what are you SAYING?"
In a way, it seemed like I had indeed lost my mind. I hadn't dreamed in a million years that I'd be fucking Holly Grandal tonight, so I didn't have a single condom in my possession.
And of course, Holly wouldn't keep them in her apartment. Not only was she a virgin and a conservative Catholic, but keeping a supply of condoms would be tantamount to admitting consent.
"You heard me, Holly -- I'm glad we don't have any condoms. I don't care if you get pregnant," I said, continuing to thrust as I held her close. I watched her face and felt her tits jiggling against my chest.
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