He lifted me onto his desk. My skirt rode halfway up my naked thighs! He produced a physician's padded hammer. He was playing doctor with me! He moved my legs apart. He tapped about my knee, until he elicited a reflex kick to his arm that made him drop his little hammer. Then, he did the other knee and declared that my reflexes were excellent. He left me to slide off his desk, which caused my skirt to ride up to my hips! Then he reached between my thighs pretending to pull my hem down.
He certainly was a student of girls' bodies and attire! I was an innocent hayseed. As far as I knew, this was standard procedure for pastors in their high schools. The lecher was old enough to be my grandfather!
When I graduated, he said, "Come back to us, Anne!"
I returned to Detroit and lived with my grandparents and then with an affluent Catholic family while I attended college. My father had re-married a divorcee who owned her house. She had children, and there didn't seem space for me. Daddy was barely able to pay my tuition. I could not afford to live in a dorm. Opportunities in a women's Catholic college weren't conducive to meet men. I didn't date much; I concentrated on my studies to qualify for scholarships. Besides, the mother of the family with whom I received room and board had daily housework for me to do, including babysitting her youngest daughter when the two other daughters were busy.
On one date, the guy lunged at me in his car and tore my dress!
Another date drove us to a secluded parking spot. We did some necking. He prevailed upon me to take out his swollen penis and hold it. He urged me to grip and stroke it. Meanwhile, my pantyhose and girdle discouraged exploration on that front, so he just squeezed my breasts through the armor of my sturdy bra. As he moaned and praised my technique, I became fascinated by this male organ. It was smooth and stiff but the head was as soft and spongy as a horse's muzzle.
"Don't stop until I say!" he cried.
I felt his penis seem to convulse and a milky stream spurted a foot out of it! Amazed, I continued to grip and stroke until his organ ran down to oozing. He told me I did a wonderful job. I was aroused by satisfying him but left frustrated.
After getting my M. A. in English, I got a job teaching in a community college and moved to my own apartment. There turned out to be a lot of rivalry and back-stabbing. I'd long had difficulty sleeping, and my stressful job made me anxious about getting enough sleep. Teaching is mostly mental work, which keeps the mind going, even after the preparation at home is finished. My alcoholic landlady took up precious amounts of my free time. My doctor prescribed a sleeping pill for me. I prescribed a few strong alcoholic drinks to relax after supper and before taking the sleeping pill.
One day, I had to take my car to a garage for repair. The mechanic looked me up and down approvingly. Although I was modestly dressed in a suit with the skirt just above my knees and a little jacket over my blouse, my large breasts and plump ass could not be entirely concealed. He seemed nice enough, not overcharging me for being a woman ignorant of automobiles. When a call came that my car was ready, I said I'd have to catch a bus or a cab. I was asked to hold on, while the manager called, "Ken!" Ken would pick me up in my car and bring me to the garage to pay the bill. Ken was the mechanic I had met. He slid from behind the wheel to let me drive while he looked at my legs.
A few days later, I had finished my second strong whiskey and ginger ale and taken my sleeping pill when the phone rang. Ken the mechanic wanted to take me out for a drink. Although it was 9 p.m., I consented. Perhaps, my judgment was impaired by the alcohol. I was lonely and depressed, not realizing then that alcohol in the quantity I took is a depressant.
He picked me up in his car. Ken had already bolstered himself with a few drinks. We had two drinks. Instead of driving me home, he drove to a motel. He led me into a room. I was 24 years old and still a virgin. I must have been dazed by the drugs. I didn't care what he did, which was even better for him than when he had mentally undressed me. As soon as I got home from teaching, I always removed my girdle and pantyhose, so Ken faced few obstacles.
He had a pint of whiskey in his pocket and fortified himself for combat with another long swallow. He offered me a "snort" but I refused. I stood frozen while he stripped me naked, felt me all over and kissed me, telling me what a fantastic body I had. I felt flattered by hearing him praise my naked beauty. A man's hands caressing my body all over for the first time thrilled me with shivers of pleasure. He reached between my legs, grasped my pussy and squeezed, claiming me for his use. He led me to the bed.
I lay indifferent watching him undress and noting his stiff penis, which looked like a big weapon to spear my little vagina. He got into bed with me. I felt detached, watching myself, mildly curious about what would happen. I felt his erection rubbing against me and thought, "Soon I won't be a virgin anymore." He lay on me and began rubbing his body over mine. He mauled my breasts and sucked my nipples almost painfully erect.
Then, he stopped and lay on me. I waited for a few minutes for him to continue, but he was just dead weight. He had passed out! What a fool! While I was intoxicated into compliance, he had drunk himself into a stupor. I was ripe fruit for him to pick, but he fell off his ladder. I got up, dressed, and called a cab. He didn't call again. Either he was too embarrassed by his flop, or he didn't remember through his alcoholic fog that he had failed.
I realized that big city life was too hectic and impersonal for me. I applied for a job teaching English at St. Ambrose, the Catholic school from which I'd graduated. Fr. Coker was happy to hire me. He seemed fatter now, and his short hair was white. When I told him I was almost broke, with payments on a student loan, car payments and moving expenses, and couldn't afford a month's rent in advance, plus an equal amount of deposit to be refunded when I left, if I didn't damage the premises, he lent me the money. I didn't realize then that my body was collateral!
During the first summer, I roomed with Celia, an elderly family friend. After my first paycheck, I shared an apartment with another teacher, Sylvia. However, she seemed to be infatuated with Fr. Coker! She invited him to visit us. He parked discreetly, his fire-engine red Pontiac down the block. He'd bring a bottle of booze. We'd play cards. While Silvia gazed at Fr. Coker with calf eyes, he gazed at me with calf eyes!
The last straw was when Sylvia invited me to go swimming in a local lake where Fr. Coker had a cabin. She assured me that he would be away. After we got into our swimsuits and began to test the water, Fr. Coker drove up. Soon, we saw him in his swimming trunks, the grizzled white hair on his chest matching the white hair on his head, and his belly hanging over the waistband.
He and Sylvia made an amorous pair, strolling to the beach arm in arm and playing in the water. He seemed to be showing off to me that he was a ladies' man. We wore swimsuits, and, although mine was a modest one-piece, Fr. Coker must have enjoyed seeing a lot more of me, by the way he leered.
"Anne, you were built for a bikini! He leered.
He and Sylvia insisted that I change into a bikini, with which Fr. Coker's cabin seemed well-supplied. Sylvia fitted me with a black one, which was a size too small. My big breasts bulged out, and pubic hair stuck out the sides.
It became clear that this pillar of the community was an old hypocrite, who wanted me to join his stable of sex partners! While we played in the water, Sylvia would cozy up to Fr. Coker, and they would play "touchy-feely." Then, Sylvia led me into their game. Soon his hands were brushing my thighs, squeezing my breasts, which nearly popped out of my top, and grabbing my ass!
At work, also, Fr. Coker began paying me a lot of attention. He'd inspect me to make sure that my skirts weren't too short. He adjusted my posture, with his hands on my shoulders, saying, "Stand up straight with your shoulders back so your titties stand out!" He asked me to sit down to see how far my skirt hiked up. Then he had me cross my legs, right over left and then left over right. One day, I said I wasn't feeling very well. He pretended to listen to my heart again so that he could press his head against my jutting breasts.
Sister D. was still the principal. Hearing my students laugh in class seemed to anger her, as if education couldn't be fun. One day, she began an altercation with me in the hallway. She concluded by slapping my face! I slapped her right back. She could have made my daily work miserable but left me alone most of the time. I guessed that Fr. Coker was protecting me from her. One evening, when Sylvia was away, he came to the door, carrying a bottle of my favorite liquor, Smirnoff vodka. I opened the door with the chain on and said I was very tired and going to bed.
To escape the him and Sylvia's connivance, I rented a room in a private home owned by a married couple a few years older than I. They would be my chaperones, keeping the wolf at bay. We became friendly. Janice, the wife, invited me for suppers. She was a free spirit, cheerful with a rich, sometimes ribald, sense of humor. She was a brunette with shoulder-length hair, taller than I, with long, shapely legs and a good figure. Tom was tall, dark and rather handsome. He flattered me, and his admiring looks made me feel attractive.
My landlords noted Fr. Coker's persistent wooing and ran some interference for me. They weren't Catholic, so they were not daunted by his status.
It was my custom, after a long day at school inveigling boisterous teenagers with raging hormones, to appreciate literary classics, to shed my school clothes, free my straining breasts from their tight bra, remove my girdle, and don a short, thin robe in the warm weather. After supper and wine, I'd relax further with two or three strong drinks and a "bodice-ripper" romance novel.
One night, there was a knock on the door. Fearing another visit by my boss, I opened the door just a crack. There was Tom, my landlord.
