"Mother fucker!" she said out loud. "I'll bet the son-a-fa-bitch is really out fucking someone else."
Rebecca was pissed.
"The asshole would rather play golf than fuck me," she hissed through her teeth.
She drove fast down the highway. It was only about ten miles to go. She tried to calm down. It was the madness she thought. It was coming back. She had barely slept in two days. Her mind was racing. One thought after the other leapt into her head. She lit a cigarette. She felt the nicotine coursing through her veins. She needed to slow down. She would be there before Steve and she didn't like to wait.
"That asshole just can't handle a real woman. He was all talk. He couldn't hold out. He would fuck her for three minutes, come and then his dick would shrivel up and just hang there. He would be all out of breath and sweaty. She couldn't stand him any more. She couldn't make him understand. Dammit, dammit, why did she do it? What did she see in him?" she kept saying to herself.
The "asshole" was Richard Freeman, her western history professor. They had begun seeing each other the previous semester. Rebecca was drawn to older men. Professor Freeman like so many men were more talk than deed. Rebecca was impulsive and lacked self-discipline. She was easy prey for the likes of Professor Freeman. She wasn't the first and no doubt would not be the last. It was all such a cliché and so predictable. Rebecca had made a fool of herself.
"Steve wasn't like that," she said to out loud. She always talked out loud to herself when she was agitated. She hated Steve. She hated Steve so much she left him. She left him for Richard Freeman. But she needed Steve. She needed a place to stay. She needed someone who understood her... understood what she needed. That is why she needed Steve he understood, he could see right through her. He could make her do things, things that made her hate her self for liking them, bad things She hoped he would take her back. "Maybe he will," she whispered to herself.
Rebecca was not stupid. Quite the contrary. Her scores were high in almost every area. She read constantly and broadly. She was very bright, charming, a wonderful conversationalist. But not only bright, she was beautiful as well. But for all of her intelligence she had been in college for seven years and still had not obtained a degree. Her impulsiveness had led her in too many directions. A natural blonde, her hair was thick and wavy, but like it's owner, it was difficult to manage. She was constantly trying to tame it, to make it do what she wanted, but it did as it would, and frankly she was the more beautiful for it. She was taller than most women and some men. She had rather small breasts, but a slim waist and lovely hips. Even in high school she garnered attention from the boys and envy from the other girls. Often she would catch older men looking at her ass. Her high school band teacher even contrived some infraction so as to get the opportunity to give her ass a paddling. She would hear family members talking about it behind her back. Her older cousins were always trying to cop a feel. Steve was one of them. Steve's Aunt Anne had adopted Rebecca, so he felt that since she wasn't blood kin there wasn't a good reason not to have a go with her. Steve was her oldest cousin, fourteen years her senior.
She could see the lights of the diner ahead. It was about ten miles across the state line from Texarkana in East Texas. She was getting anxious now. She took one last long draw from the cigarette and rubbed it out in the ashtray.
"Damn," she thought, "Steve hates it when I smoke. What'll I do?"
Her body had it's own answer. She felt her nipples stiffen under her blouse. She squeezed her legs together and squirmed. She could feel the wetness between the lips of her pussy run out onto her thighs making them slick.
"I should have worn panties. I am such a slut," She said as she frantically searched her purse for some tissue while holding the steering wheel with one hand.
She couldn't help it. It was a conditioned response. That is why she hated Steve. He had that effect on her. He taught her to get excited when she became anxious. He taught her to become aroused by her fear of displeasing him. He taught her to feel pleasure from the pain he inflicted on her. She never felt as free as when he tied her up. She wandered many times if it was all Steve's fault or if she was just that way and he could see it in her. Maybe he had some power to make her, something that always made her do as he pleased. Either way she had found herself drawn to him from early childhood.
She had a crush on him when she was just ten. He used to toss her about and take her fishing. He even let her take a sip from his beer. He explained to her about boys. He let her ride on his horses and took her everywhere in his pick-up truck. He left for the Air Force and went to California. She didn't see him until eight years later at a family reunion. He had returned home to the family place. He no longer looked boyish. His parents had died and he was coming back to live there. There was a touch of gray in the hair around his temples and he wore it shorter now. She saw him differently now. She noticed how broad his shoulders were, he was lean and narrow through the hips, but it was his butt she really liked. He looked good in jeans. He had a cute round butt and she wondered if it was the outline of his cock she could see in the front of them. She remembered that day. Then she remembered the day after; what Steve had done to her. She had asked for it, she told herself. All Steve had to do was make his move.
He had noticed her too. She was a different girl now. She was like a ripe fruit, a flower in full bloom. It would be a shame to let it go past the point of its ripeness he thought. She came to the home place to see him the next day. He knew what for and he plucked the fruit.
Rebecca wheeled into the parking lot. She wished she knew what his vehicle looked like. She hated to walk in the way she was. She knew that she would attract the stares of strange men. She wore a tight short black skirt and a tight sleeveless black turtleneck blouse with black pumps... and no panties or stockings. It made her feel vulnerable, she hated that, and yet she could feel the tingling in the pit of her stomach and the wetness between her thighs returning. She composed herself and walked in checking her watch. He told her he would meet her at eight. It was eight-ten. Surely he was here now. Thank goodness she wore a bra, she thought.
"Smoking or non, Sugar," the hostess ask her as she looked around for Steve.
"Just let me have a booth. It doesn't matter."
She followed the hostess to a booth and saw Steve turn the corner across the diner. He was coming out of the men's room. They recognized each other immediately and they both sat down.
"So what brings you to this part of Texas? I figured you would be all fat and happy with your professor fella?" Steve said with his long slow drawl grinning slightly.
"Don't be mean to me." She felt herself begin to flush. Just being this close, hearing his voice, knowing his dark eyes were on her, distracted her to no end. She couldn't think of where to begin.
"You were the mean one. Remember?"
"I am sorry. I am so damn sorry. I was so stupid."
