too-short dress.
“Steve…please…don’t…”
His voice was hard and lusty. “Laurel,” he almost sneered as his hand kept moving, “we’re just having fun.” I opened my eyes and looked at him. Steve’s face was a mask of lust and power, like a conquering warrior.
“I know, I know, but it’s a little more…fun than I expected tonight.” I didn’t want to sound like a prude, though I really was one. I didn’t want to sound like a tease, like the girl who would do ‘anything but that,’ but I wasn’t enjoying this anymore.
Right then I felt his fingers slide up my inner thigh, higher, just brushing over my panties. I fluttered my eyes and let out what must have been a combination of a moan and a squeal. I bit my lip again. It felt nice, but in a disconnected sort of way. Like I wanted it to feel nicer, but it just wouldn’t. Not right now.
“Steve, come on, that’s too much. Slow down, please.”
“Come on, Laurel, let’s have a good time. You’ll love it, I promise. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” His words had the beginnings of a slur to them.
“We’ve done that, and we’re having a good time, but please let’s not go any further. We should at least get to know each other a little more before we…”
“We know each other well enough. I know you well enough,” he almost sneered, looking at me, his eyes looking smaller, almost beady, “to be able to tell how much you want it.”
“Want what?” I knew what he was going to say next.
“To be with me. Right here, right now.”
“What, right here? You mean have sex with you? No, Steve, I don’t want that.” I tried to make my voice sound as strong as possible. Maybe after a few more dates, a lot more time, getting to know each other.
Steve laughed in my face. The laugh that I’d liked in the bar, that I’d felt drawn to when we kissed against the side of the building, that laugh was gone. Now his laugh sounded shrill and angry, like a child not getting what he wanted from the toy store. A child used to getting what he wanted in everything.
Here was the perfect blond haired, blue eyed American boy, the boy you rushed home to tell your mother about, revealing himself as something completely different, something completely unexpected.
I struggled, trying to push Steve away, but he was way too strong for me. He kept laughing all the while as I tried to get away from him, almost flailing about. I could feel myself starting to cry. I needed to get away from him as soon as possible.
“You think,” Steve said, his voice getting higher, “that I’m going to let you get away from me that easily, Laurel? We’re just getting started, babe.” He started moving closer to me again.
I struggled as hard as I could, my eyes closed and starting to tear up, trying to push him away with all my being, mental and physical. As much as I tried, as much as I wanted him to go away, or for me to be anywhere other than where I was in that moment, it didn’t work.
A new voice appeared. “No, you’re just finishing up.” I squinted through the coming tears, trying to make out who it was, but they were just beyond the low light of the parking lot’s overhead lamps.
Without turning around, Steve said, “Move along, man, this doesn’t concern you.” He looked back at me and held a finger up to his mouth. He didn’t want me making a sound. I was so scared, I listened, but not because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t find the words or the sounds to make.
“It does now,” the voice countered, slow and gruff. “Get away from her.”
Steve’s shoulders rose as he set them back, dipping toward me before leaning back and whipping his head around. “I said, beat it, man, this is between me and the lady!” He looked around, and I could tell he was squinting, trying to find whoever was talking to him.
“And this is how you treat ‘ladies’?” The voice was getting closer.
Steve kept looking back,
“Steve…please…don’t…”
His voice was hard and lusty. “Laurel,” he almost sneered as his hand kept moving, “we’re just having fun.” I opened my eyes and looked at him. Steve’s face was a mask of lust and power, like a conquering warrior.
“I know, I know, but it’s a little more…fun than I expected tonight.” I didn’t want to sound like a prude, though I really was one. I didn’t want to sound like a tease, like the girl who would do ‘anything but that,’ but I wasn’t enjoying this anymore.
Right then I felt his fingers slide up my inner thigh, higher, just brushing over my panties. I fluttered my eyes and let out what must have been a combination of a moan and a squeal. I bit my lip again. It felt nice, but in a disconnected sort of way. Like I wanted it to feel nicer, but it just wouldn’t. Not right now.
“Steve, come on, that’s too much. Slow down, please.”
“Come on, Laurel, let’s have a good time. You’ll love it, I promise. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” His words had the beginnings of a slur to them.
“We’ve done that, and we’re having a good time, but please let’s not go any further. We should at least get to know each other a little more before we…”
“We know each other well enough. I know you well enough,” he almost sneered, looking at me, his eyes looking smaller, almost beady, “to be able to tell how much you want it.”
“Want what?” I knew what he was going to say next.
“To be with me. Right here, right now.”
“What, right here? You mean have sex with you? No, Steve, I don’t want that.” I tried to make my voice sound as strong as possible. Maybe after a few more dates, a lot more time, getting to know each other.
Steve laughed in my face. The laugh that I’d liked in the bar, that I’d felt drawn to when we kissed against the side of the building, that laugh was gone. Now his laugh sounded shrill and angry, like a child not getting what he wanted from the toy store. A child used to getting what he wanted in everything.
Here was the perfect blond haired, blue eyed American boy, the boy you rushed home to tell your mother about, revealing himself as something completely different, something completely unexpected.
I struggled, trying to push Steve away, but he was way too strong for me. He kept laughing all the while as I tried to get away from him, almost flailing about. I could feel myself starting to cry. I needed to get away from him as soon as possible.
“You think,” Steve said, his voice getting higher, “that I’m going to let you get away from me that easily, Laurel? We’re just getting started, babe.” He started moving closer to me again.
I struggled as hard as I could, my eyes closed and starting to tear up, trying to push him away with all my being, mental and physical. As much as I tried, as much as I wanted him to go away, or for me to be anywhere other than where I was in that moment, it didn’t work.
A new voice appeared. “No, you’re just finishing up.” I squinted through the coming tears, trying to make out who it was, but they were just beyond the low light of the parking lot’s overhead lamps.
Without turning around, Steve said, “Move along, man, this doesn’t concern you.” He looked back at me and held a finger up to his mouth. He didn’t want me making a sound. I was so scared, I listened, but not because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t find the words or the sounds to make.
“It does now,” the voice countered, slow and gruff. “Get away from her.”
Steve’s shoulders rose as he set them back, dipping toward me before leaning back and whipping his head around. “I said, beat it, man, this is between me and the lady!” He looked around, and I could tell he was squinting, trying to find whoever was talking to him.
“And this is how you treat ‘ladies’?” The voice was getting closer.
Steve kept looking back,
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