YOU WERE ANGRY with yourself for being so helpless since the divorce. You never real ized how many things Tim had taken care of; things which you didn’t have the foggiest notion how to handle. Now the sink was stuffed up and the superintendent had the day off. You sat there looking at the mess. Tears of frustration were beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.
Then you remembered what Jill had said shortly after the divorce: If you had any problems, or needed anything, she or Don would be happy to help out. Even though you knew she meant it, you were always reluctant to ask for anything. You were worried that one day if you really needed something, you would have worn out your welcome. But the horrid mess kept staring back at you, so hesitantly you picked up the phone.
“Oh sure, as soon as Don is finished with dinner, I’ll ask him to go on up,” Jill replied, obviously happy to help a friend.
The two of you lived only three floors apart in this apartment building, and you’d gotten to be very good friends over the years. She and Don had been helpful during the separation and were eager to show you that they were still your friends, even though you were now without a husband. You appreciated this, since it was a tough adjustment for you. At the age of forty-three you probably should have felt more self-confidence, but being left by Tim for a younger woman didn’t help your self-image.
Within fifteen minutes Don was standing at your door with a plunger in his hand and a friendly smile on his face. As he entered, you suddenly were aware of how sloppy you looked. You’d fallen into the habit of putting on that old bathrobe as soon as you came home. Being alone most evenings, you didn’t pay much attention to “dressing.” (You made a mental note to change that attitude....) You felt awkward, but you dismissed it as you led Don to the sink.
“I’ll fix that in a hurry,” he said, and you sat down in the kitchen to watch and kibbitz.
As he worked, he chatted. He took a couple of quick peeks at your bare legs, but only in a very casual way.
“Say, Jill has been asking you to dinner for weeks, but you never say yes. How about it? Don’t keep isolating yourself.”
“I guess you’re right,” you replied. “I have been staying in too much. I’ll say yes next time.”
In short order the sink was unstuffed and the mess disappeared down the drain. Don asked if you had any rags to clean up with.
You kept the box of rags on top of one of the shelves in the storage room off the kitchen. As you climbed up on the step stool to reach it, you felt a hand underneath your robe. You screamed as you spun around, totally caught off guard. You found yourself staring into Don’s faintly amused eyes.
“Hey, cut it out. That’s not funny.”
“I didn’t mean to be funny,” he answered coolly. “I only wanted to see if your legs felt as smooth as they look.”
“Well, I don’t appreciate that,” you stammered and tried to climb down, but Don was there in front of you, not moving.
“In fact,” he continued, “I think I’m going to fuck you.”
You had no reply to this one. He looked like he wasn’t kidding, but you tried to joke him out of it, “Oh, come on Don, Jill is my best friend—you’re my good friend, wouldn’t that be silly?”
But he stood his ground.
The next move was Don swiftly untying your robe and revealing your nude body.
You grappled with him, trying to close the robe, but he took both your wrists in one hand and held them in a painfully tight grip. You protested—told him he was hurting you, and begged him to let go. He an swered that he would, but only if you didn’t fight him.
“I can’t... please don’t do this,” you pleaded. And then you were sobbing like a child. All the frustration you felt for being alone so often and so helpless, and now this just overwhelmed you. Don didn’t seem to care. He pulled you down from the stool, still holding your wrists, and led you into your bedroom.
After he threw you onto the bed and pulled off your robe, he started to undress himself. His grip loosened slightly, enabling you to wrench yourself free and to run for the door. You thought that if you could get out, you’d go for help. But he was quicker than you, and once again you were back on the bed. He slapped you across the face for having tried to run and you sobbed as your face grew red from the blow. Now he used his belt to tie your hands together. He held onto the strap, controlling your hands.
He quickly lowered his pants. He was already hard and you stared at him with fear and hatred.
Once more you pleaded for him to stop, but he said nothing. He pushed you down and climbed onto the bed. The tears were coming without stopping now. In a sudden movement he pushed his penis into your mouth until you choked on it. With one hand he held onto the strap while the other hand had you by the back of the head. He pushed himself in and out of your mouth roughly, each time causing you to choke and gag. You looked up to see his eyes fixed on you, obviously getting very excited by the sight of his penis raping your mouth.
When it seemed that he was about to come, he stopped and moved away. He fastened the strap to the headboard so that your hands were now trussed above your head. He forced your legs up over his shoulders as he positioned himself between them.
How you hated him! You turned your face away and shut your eyes tightly so you wouldn’t have to look at him. As he entered you, his penis penetrated so deeply it felt as if it would reach your stomach. He withdrew it almost to its tip and then quickly thrust it into you again. He kept on, each time withdrawing it slowly, so slowly, and then rushing back into you. You heard him breathing harder and harder.
He reached for your nipples and began to pinch and pull them. In spite of yourself they responded. You wanted to die of shame. After fucking you and pinching your nipples for a long time, he moved his one free hand down. It traced a line from between your breasts and past your navel to your pubic hair. It rested there a moment before he began to manipulate your clitoris. Just as your nipples had responded, it also began tingling. God! It had been so long since any man had touched you.
He felt the hard tip of your clit and all at once his fucking became slower but with a decidedly steady rhythm. He kept rubbing and pulling at your clit until you felt your body imitating his. Soon it was no longer only his breathing you heard, but your own as well.
You melted now and forgot about how it all began. You weren’t sure how long he continued, but it seemed to be only a moment before you were about to arrive. You shuddered and moaned as your orgasm was triggered. He was carried along with it and came at once, filling you with his semen.
A few minutes later he was dressing, and you, untied, were lying limp on the bed.
He smiled but said nothing. You both knew neither of you would say anything about the incident to Jill. It would be his word against yours, and he would convince her that you had enticed him.
But you also knew that you would always be able to call on Don if you needed anything fixed.