Woman gets more than she wants by agreeing to go to the circus.
I had a date with Jim last night. Oh, my God, never again. What a nightmare. He practically raped me. Actually, it would have been rape, date rape, had I not been so horny, and reluctantly cooperated, somewhat. It's been a while since I've had sex, several months and to my chagrin I discovered that going out on a date when horny is like going to the supermarket to shop for food when hungry. I'll never do that again.
Anyway, Jim is a friend of Tom, my co-worker. I kind of like Tom, a little. I wouldn't say no if he asked me out, but it's a little weird with us working together in the same office, especially if it didn't work out. Had it been Tom instead of Jim who asked me out, maybe I wouldn't be writing this story.
Yet, had Tom asked me on a date and if we didn't like one another, I'd hate that awkwardness I'd feel having to see him every day. Besides, what if he talked about me, what I liked, what I did, what I was like, you know, all of that personal stuff. I wouldn't want all my co-workers knowing so much about me. I'd be so embarrassed. Even if we hit it off, office romances don't work.
I met Jim a few times. He has lunch with Tom a couple times a week. He works somewhere close by, I imagine, for him to be able to stop by on his lunch hour.
Jim is not a bad looking guy, only he's already losing his hair. If he's losing his hair now at 29, I can't imagine what he'd look like at 49-years-old, completely bald probably. Balding men are turn off for me. I mean, I don't mind if a guy shaves off all his hair and is completely bald, like Mr. Clean from that cleaning commercial, but if he has the Friar Tuck or the Bozo the Clown look, that does nothing for me. It just makes him look old.
So, Jim has been hanging around the office more and he even had lunch with Tom in the employee lunchroom. I didn't know someone from the outside could do that, have lunch in the employee lunchroom, when they're not an employee, but no one complained. When I saw Jim there again, I was beginning to wonder if he and Tom were gay lovers. Only, that was when Jim asked me to go out with him.
"Jennifer," he said. "I have two tickets to the Cirque du Soleil for tonight. Would you like to go with me?"
"Tonight?"
He didn't give me much notice. He kind of put me on the spot and made me wonder if I was the first one he had asked to see the show or if I was a last minute selection, after his first or second or third choices turned down or cancelled his invitation, even.
"I apologize for the last minute invitation," he said, "but it took me three weeks to build up the courage to ask you. I just thought if I went ahead and bought the tickets, that would give me the motivation that I needed to ask you out. Only, I still carried the tickets around with me for a two weeks," he said with a nervous laugh.
Aw, that was so sweet, I thought, while thinking he was harmless. Harmless my ass. I wish I knew then what I know now about him. He's a pervert and a date rapist.
What the Hell, I thought, I wasn't doing anything tonight anyway. I was growing a bit wearing of sitting on the couch staring at the television with the cat sitting in my lap purring, while I'm seething with horniness. Besides, I don't think I have any food in the house other than a box of macaroni and cheese and a can of soap.
"Sure, what time," I asked?
"I'll pick you up at 6:30. The show starts at 8pm, but with the traffic and parking, I just thought that we'd leave--"
"Sure," I said. "Let me get a paper and pen to give you my address."
I walked to my desk wishing Tom would have asked me out instead of Jim. I would have preferred going the Cirque du Soleil with my cute co-worker than with the soon to be bald guy. No matter, except for seeing it on television, I've never seen the Cirque du Soleil and always wanted to go.
Well, we attended the show and it was really good. Jim turned out to be a great guy. He's intelligent, witty, and charming. He made me laugh. He made me forget about his receding hairline.
We went out to eat at this new Asian place. He had the yellow fin tuna and I had the duck. The restaurant was a little pricy and I offered to go Dutch, but he insisted on paying for that, too. I had never been treated to this expensive of a date. Most of my dates are movies and a burger. Easily between the parking, the show, and now dinner at this swanky, Avant-garde place, he spent $300.
I was nervous at dinner, especially thinking of what would happen next, when I was thanking him for a pleasant evening. It's been a while since I've been on a date and with a man. I was undecided if I should kiss him or not and/or invite him in my apartment or not. Definitely, I'd never go back to his place. I really don't know him all that well to do that. He may be a psycho for all that I know.
Anyway, because I was nervous, I had one too many drinks at dinner. I never ever have more than two drinks when out with the girls. Normally, I only have one drink. Well, that night I had three Mai Tai's and the rum went straight to my head. What was I thinking?
When we drove out of the parking lot, I wasn't paying attention. I was busy fiddling with the radio station, while making light, witty, and inebriated conversation, no doubt, with Jim. When I finally stopped talking and paid more attention to the road, I didn't know where we were. All I knew was he had parked his car overlooking the water somewhere. It was a nice view, but Jim wasn't parked there for the view. He was parked there for me.
Suddenly, I was uncomfortable, nervous actually. This was our first date after all. I had only thought about giving him a good night kiss. I certainly didn't want to be making out with him. Yeah, he was a nice guy and he spent a lot of money on me, but if he thinks he's going to French kiss me, he's out of his mind. I don't do that on a first day, unless I really like the guy.
Only, in hindsight, I can see now that he thought I may have given him the wrong signals. I was a little drunk and a lot horny. Partly, it was my fault. I encouraged him by returning his kiss when he kissed me and had I not been a little bit drunk, I never would have slipped him my tongue in return, but I did. I'm so bad, but I was so very horny.
My hand rested on his thigh only because it was a small car and there was no other place to put my hand, other than in my lap, which is where I should have kept it. Then, when he turned to put his arm around me and twisted his body more to face me, my hand was resting on that bulge that was probably his cock. I can see how he'd take that as a green light.
Honestly, I didn't know my hand was resting where it was. When it took me a few minutes to realize where I was and I still didn't know where we were, do you think I'd notice that my hand was resting on his cock? I didn't realize my hand was in contact with his cock until I felt it pulsating through his pants. Certainly, in hindsight, I could see how he may have mistook me slipping him my tongue and my hand resting on his cock, as me wanting him, but I didn't. I was just a little bit drunk.
I know, it was wrong, but I had been terribly horny for so long and his pulsating cock felt good in my hand. Between the alcohol I consumed, his kisses, and now with my hand in contact with his cock, I was beginning to get a little sexually excited. I'm only human. It was the perfect storm for a terrible misunderstanding.
I mean, his cock wasn't out of his pants, but I could feel it throbbing against my palm through his pants. Inadvertently and involuntarily, now that I think about it, I may have squeezed and rubbed his pulsating cock through his pants with my hand. I could see now how he'd misinterpret that as me wanting him. What was I thinking? Unfortunately, I wasn't.
I remember figuring that, if he tried to touch me, I'll let him feel my tits, while kissing me, but only through my blouse and bra. There's no harm in that, feeling a woman's tits while kissing her. I know guys like to do that, feel as though they've made it to second base. So long as he doesn't take out my tits, what's the big deal?
Yet, definitely, I remember thinking, I'm not giving him a blowjob, if that's all he wants. I've been down that road before. I'm not that kind of a girl. Besides, this is only our first date and I'm not even attracted to him. He's almost bald.
To be honest, I remember having had the fleeting thought that I wouldn't mind giving him a hand job. Yeah, I wouldn't mind taking his cock out, holding it in my hand, and staring at it while stroking it, but that's as far as I'm willing to go. That's a lot especially just on the first date, French kissing me, feeling my tits through my blouse and bra, and now considering giving him a hand job. Definitely, he'd be satisfied with that on a first date. Right? That's enough, isn't it?
Had I not been a lot horny, I never would have allowed him to French kiss me, feel my tits through my blouse and my bra, and rest my hand on his throbbing cock. Definitely, I never would have considered giving him a hand job had I not had three Mai Tai's. Only, everything felt as if it was in slow motion. It took me longer to react to his touches. He must have figured he had a real live one and, in hindsight, I guess I was. In retrospect, I was drunk.
Only, his hand felt good when he touched my breast through my blouse and bra, especially when he rubbed his big palm across my nipples. Immediately, I could feel my nipples respond and grow erect and I felt a slight dampness between my legs. Horny to begin with, had it not been for the alcohol, he never would have gotten this far this fast. Slow down buddy, I wanted to say, but the words came out all slurred. Even I couldn't understand what the Hell I was trying to say.
Then, I remember, his hand shocked me when it touched skin and his fingers felt my nipple. I looked down and my blouse was unbuttoned, splayed open actually, and my bra was exposed to him. When the Hell did he unbutton my blouse? How did he unbutton my blouse without me knowing and feeling that? Am I that drunk? I am. I am that drunk. I'm plastered. I needed for him to take me home.
"Wait. Stop. Hold on, Jim. You're getting the wrong idea," I said trying to button my blouse but having the hardest time finding the holes with those little buttons.
It one quick movement of his finger, he lifted my bra over my breasts and my tits were out and exposed for him to see and enjoy. His big hands were all over my small breasts. It took me a few seconds to realize that he had my tits out and when I did, I was totally embarrassed. He had crossed the line, now. While I was trying to corral the girls back in my barn, Jim already had my skirt raised nearly up to my waist with his other hand buried between my legs. Trying to stop him from molesting me in one part of my body, he was already on to another.
"Jim! Stop. Don't."
He made me feel naked. He made me feel used. I felt so abused. He made me feel dirty.
How many hands does this guy have? I'd hate to compete against him at the sale counter at Macy's. I wouldn't get a thing and I'd leave there without my clothes.
I haven't had a guy all over me like this since I was 18-years-old at Prom night. I remember, I was drunk then, too, and with the low cut dress I was wearing, my date had easy access to my tits. He was all over my boobs, feeling them, fingering my nipples, and sucking my tits, while somehow being able to remove his cock from his pants. I still can't believe I sucked his cock. The first time I had blown anyone.
Never is when I'll fall for that again. Yet, here I am going through the same thing. What do I have a sign on my back? Rape me?
