I’d just had my shower and was standing in the kitchen with a towel wrapped around me, drinking my coffee. I saw the UPS man drive up and get out, carrying a big box. It was a case of ‘Yes!” as I’d been expecting this for days. Typical slow delivery when you really want something.
Now I knew that there’d been some reports of porch pirates in the neighbourhood so I intended to grab my parcel as soon as possible. However, as soon as possible did not mean rushing to the door wearing a towel while the driver was still there. I waited until I saw him driving away and practically bolted to the door, gloating all the way.
I opened the door, checked there was no-one around, and stepped out and picked up the parcel. It was quite a large parcel, much larger than it needed to be in my opinion, but stores did tend to over-pack things at time. It was also somewhat heavier than I’d expected but I managed to pick it up and went back inside.
That’s when my troubles began. The parcel was rather wide so instead of walking through the door I turned side on and edged through, sidling past the doorway with the parcel stuck in front of me. The stupid parcel caught on the frame so I squeezed a little harder, trying to get through, only to wind up getting stuck.
Not being an idiot I didn’t try to force my way through. I figured I’d back up, put the parcel on the ground and push it through. When I tried backing up I found that I was wedged in that direction as well. I couldn’t move into the house and I couldn’t move out. I simply couldn’t move.
I also found that the parcel was wedged in such a way that I couldn’t push it down to floor level or lift it higher. I couldn’t move the damn thing in any direction whatsoever. I was totally jammed.
I was feeling a little desperate when I saw a neighbour walking past and I hastily called out to him.
“George, got a minute?” I yelled.
He looked in my direction and I called out again.
“Um, I need a little help. I’m sort of stuck.”
He came strolling up, looking mightily amused.
“Making deliveries?” he asked.
“No. Receiving one,” I grumbled. “I’m stuck and can’t move in or out. Can you give me a hand?”
“That’s not what I meant,” I wailed when he started clapping.
“Your only problem is that you need just a little more room,” he said, still looking very amused. “I think I can help you there. Ah, if you’ll excuse me. . .”
My face was burning as he slid a hand down between me and the parcel. I’d like to think it was accidental that his hand slid between my towel and me rather than between the towel and the parcel.
“Sorry,” he said in a very innocent voice, the liar. “Um, perhaps this will help.”
He took his hand away and reached down. The next thing I knew he was tugging on the bottom of the towel, pulling it down and off. Apparently he’d loosened the knot when he groped me.
“What the fuck?” I cried, face burning. I was now naked and wedged in the doorway.
“Just giving you a little extra room,” he said, tossing the towel over his shoulder. “I’ll hold your parcel while you try to wriggle out.”
“Ah, Marie,” he said, still smiling, “I think you’ll find that you can’t wriggle out in that direction. You’ll need to move this way.”
That direction was into the house and safety. This way was out onto the veranda, where a big man was standing and me naked.
“Come along. There’s a good girl. You don’t want to be standing there when someone else comes along to see if they can help.”
God forbid. Just George was bad enough. What if a gossipy neighbour like Amanda Jenkins came along? I’d be the scandal of the year.
Cursing myself, UPS, stores who over-pack, and George, I wriggled towards George, relieved to find myself finally sliding free.
“There you go,” said George in a genial manner. “I’ll just take this in for you.”
Just like that he manoeuvred the parcel through the door and stepped inside.
“Where do you want it?” he asked.
“Just put it down right there,” I said quickly, snatching at my towel and missing when he moved slightly. “I’ll open it right where it is.”
“Okay. As long as you don’t try to take it anywhere.”
“I won’t,” I assured him, reaching for my towel again and missing again. Was he deliberately stopping me from grabbing it? My face was hot and I just knew I was blushing fiercely.
He ran his eyes over me, nodding slightly. I didn’t know why he was nodding but I didn’t trust him.
“Your towel,” he said. “You’ll be wanting it, I suspect.”
Damn right I was wanting it. He took it off his shoulder and I reached for it. He didn’t give it to me. I’m not sure how he did it but he seemed to flick the towel into the air and then he was holding it by either end with the towel behind me and him in front of me, pulling me closer.
“What are you doing?” I demanded. “Let me go.”
“Just accepting your thanks for helping you in your hour of need,” he said. “You know, I’ve long wondered if your figure was as good I suspected and I have to admit that I’m not disappointed. If you’ll excuse me for a second I just want a little taste.”
With that he bent his head and his mouth closed over my breast, lightly sucking on my nipple. I squealed and tried to push him away. He lifted his head, winked at me, and tasted my other nipple.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, pushing at him again.
He outright laughed at that.
“You’re what, twenty-one, and you’re wondering what I’m doing? Do you really need me to explain it all?”
“If you think you’re going to have sex with me you’re mad,” I stated. “Not happening. No way. No how.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” he told me. “Ah, something you should take into consideration while you’re talking to yourself.”
He calmly unzipped and pulled his erection out. Bloody hell, it was enormous. Surely he wasn’t really going to try to fuck me? He wouldn’t dare. Would he?
Call me innocent. Call me slightly naïve. Up until he pulled that monster out I’d thought he was just teasing me in an embarrassing way. Now it occurred to me that he was actually serious. I didn’t know whether to be excited or panic-stricken. Both at once seemed a reasonable option.
It wasn’t that I was a virgin. It was just that my sexual encounters had been relatively few and then only with my boyfriend and, even more importantly, with my consent. Never had I been in a situation where I was going to have a sexual encounter without my consent. Now I didn’t know what to do.
He was kissing and sucking on my breasts again (I just knew that I’d have bruises there) and his hands were wandering in a most intimate manner. I was trying to push him away and protesting and being ignored. (It was the pushing him away and protesting that was being ignored. The rest of me was getting a lot of attention.)
“George,” I finally yelled, “that’s enough. More than enough!”
To my surprise he lifted his head and smiled.
“I have to agree,” he said. “I know how to take a hint.”
He did? You could have fooled me.
It turned out he didn’t. He managed to press behind my knee and my leg promptly buckled. George very helpfully steered me down to the floor, and I found myself on the carpet on all fours with George kneeling behind me with his hand on my back holding me there. His other hand was between my legs and he was rubbing me very, ah, intimately, you could say.
“George,” I yelled, thoroughly scandalised, and infuriated when it had no effect.
“Oh, come on, George,” I snapped. “You know you’re not really going to try to take advantage of me.”
There’s a mealy mouthed way of saying something – take advantage of me. An euphemism for rape and we both knew it.
George, damn him, just laughed, and the butterflies that had been gathering in my tummy all took flight. He was going to take me and there was nothing I could do to stop him. My panic and my arousal were complete but I was unable to express either one, both of them interfering with each other.
I could feel his fingers spreading my lips and then his cock was butting against me. I wailed, “No,” loud and long, to be answered by George’s triumphant, “Yes,” as he came surging into me.
Oddly enough that was the end of any panic as my arousal took full control, causing me to push back against him. I was actually helping him thrust into me and I wanted to swear, at him, at myself, and at the whole stupid situation.
Another odd thing that I discovered was that my sheer helplessness over the situation was actually getting me even more excited, building on my arousal. If asked I’d have flatly refuted the idea that I might like to be dominated by a man. Shows how much I know about myself. Of course this might just be a one-off. It was a bit hard to tell unless I found myself in a situation where I was likely to be assaulted again.
George’s hands were covering my breasts and, somewhat to my surprise, his cock was fully inside me. After seeing the size of it I wouldn’t have laid any bets on my being able to take all of it but it just goes to show. I’m not sure exactly what it shows, but whatever.
My boyfriend had shown himself to be a gentle and considerate lover. George promptly demonstrated that he had neither of those attributes. He pulled back and then bulled back into me. That’s the only way to describe it. Bulled. Like a blasted bull charging at the matador. Unlike a bull he was right on target, slamming home so hard and fast that I think I bounced. It was something totally new in my experience and something totally and wildly exciting.
I was something like, “Whaa…” and George was already pulling back for his next charge. That’s the way it went. George thrusting away and me squealing and carrying on while he did so. I suppose I should point out that I was also pushing to meet him and the carrying on I was doing consisted of cries of excitement, not distress.
One thing I was certainly learning. Having my boyfriend make gentle love to me was nothing like having George slating his lust on my quivering body. The first was beautiful and pleasant to experience. The second was wildly exciting, full of frenetic activity, with what appeared to be a total lack of control on George’s part. Of course, seeing George was being completely dominating I have to admit that I had no control either, not that I was looking for any. I had simply been totally captivated and was just responding to George’s whims.
George continued on his happy way and I was lost in a haze of excitement, moving with him and urging him on to greater effort. I have no idea why I was urging him on as first, he didn’t need any urging and, second, he wasn’t supposed to be doing this at all. It was all part of the package deal, I guess.
When the end came it came with a shocking abruptness. One moment I was bouncing and squealing under George’s administrations and then I was noisily climaxing, feeling George jerking about and ejaculating deep inside me.
George withdrew and stood up, breathing rather hard. Personally I just wanted to sink down onto the floor in a totally boneless manner but I forced myself stagger to my feet and gave George a death glare. Okay, maybe it was just a nasty look. Alright, I simply looked at him, somehow managing to keep a dazed and inane smile off my face.
“Got to run, love,” he said. “Anytime I can give you a hand just give me a yell. My pleasure, I assure you.”
With that he just waltzed on out of the house, leaving me sagging back against the wall. That dazed and inane smile was now back on my face. That had truly been a remarkable experience.
An idle thought. What would happen if I asked George for a hand with something while I was fully dressed? I mean, he wouldn’t really be able to jump me then, now would he. Especially if I was wearing tight jeans. What was he going to do? Pick me up by the feet and shake me out of them?
I gave a delicate little shudder at the thought.