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Jessica 2


All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: Jessica, Chapter 2

[Someone who wishes to be known as YoungOne here again.]

Hello, everyone. Here's a story I wrote some time ago that I thought
I'd finally get around to posting. It's loosely based on a couple of
real incidents a friend of mine went through. It ain't pretty, but
I think it's a good story. This is the second chapter.

I'm posting it anonymously because I don't approve of a lot of things
in the story and don't want to sour any opinions of me that some of
you may have. Does that make any sense?

Anyway, a brief word of warning: There is a fair bit of non-consensual
naughtiness in this story. If you like, or dislike, or have anything
to say about this story, mail me. Authors crave email. If this
touches a specific nerve, please let me know.

ObAnnoyingBit: This story is COPYRIGHTED! You may NOT reprint it
except for your OWN use without my permission unless you're doing it
for free. If you try and charge any money for this story, I'll sick
my dentist on you. Simple, eh?

One last note: "The Archivist" has informed me that there is already a
story named "Jessica" floating around out there. For personal
reasons, I really don't want to rename this. So, if it's included in
any archives (nothing that charges any money, of course), you might
want to add my name to the front or back (eg, "Jessica by YoungOne").

So, without further ado, may I present...

Jessica

Chapter 2: The Saviour

The day after my attack was a strange one. I spent a lot of time
sitting around thinking. Dwelling on the attack. Wondering what I
should do next. I decided that I didn't want to call the police. The
animals who hurt me got hurt worse in return and I didn't want to put
myself through a trial. I thought I could just go on living my life
as if nothing had happened. Fool.

I didn't go out that day. I cleaned. I did laundry (well, OK, I had
to leave the apartment to do laundry, but I was never more than a few
feet from my front door). I played with my cat. I had no intention
of doing anything that night.

About 7pm, though, the doorbell rang. At first I was terrified. I
froze where I was and started shaking. Then I told myself to stop
acting silly and went to answer it. I walked over, paused, took a
deep breath, turned the knob, and ended up face to face with the man
who had saved me. I started shaking again.

He smiled kind of nervously and said "Hi. Uh, I don't know if you
want to see me, but I thought I'd drop by and see how you were doing."

"Uh." I felt some pain from my hand and looked down to see I was
holding the doorknob so tight my knuckles were white. "Hi."

"My name's Mike." He smiled again. "I figured you might not want to
go out today, so I brought you some food." He offered a bag. "It's
just some fruit and a salad, but I wasn't sure what you would want..."
He looked down at the bag, then back at me. "Uh. Um. Here, I'll
just set this down and you can take it or whatever." He started to
lean down to set the bag down when I work up.

"NO!" He jumped back. "Uh, sorry. I mean, you don't have to set it
down. I didn't mean to be rude. You just shocked me." I smiled.
"Uh, would you like to come in?" I stepped back, inviting him in to
my newly cleaned apartment.

"Sure. Thanks."

"I'm Jessica. Hi, Mike." I held out my hand, which he shook. "Sit
down." I set the food he had brought on the coffee table and took the
easy chair for myself. "I, uh, never got the chance to say thanks for
last night. Thanks."

"Don't worry about it. I'm sorry I didn't get there before they..."
He looked confused. "Uh, I mean, I'm sorry I didn't get there
sooner."

"Thanks. I mean that. You got there before they really hurt me." My
God, was I really talking about that? I didn't even feel that bad
about it. "If you hadn't been there..."

"Yeah. Uh, are you going to call the police?"

"I don't know. They didn't seem to be in much shape to hurt anyone
for awhile, and since they really didn't hurt me, I was thinking of
just going on with life." He nodded along with me at this.

We sat in silence for a little while. I thought about the attack
again and felt my hands shaking a little again. He eventually spoke
to break the quiet. "So aren't you even going to look at what I
brought?" He smiled.

"Oh! Sorry!" I dug into the bag and pulled out two apples, a salad
from McDonalds, an orange, four different types of dressing, and some
orange juice. "Wow."

"I remember that your icebox had lots of fruit, so I thought maybe you
were a vegetarian."

"Oh. Ah. Well, I ate the last of my chicken yesterday. Down to
nothing but fruit." Whoops. "No...I didn't mean it like that." But
he looked crestfallen. "I like fruit, really!" To demonstrate, I
started eating an apple.

"Hey! Since you've probably been locked up here all day, why don't I
take you out to dinner?"

I know I shouldn't have, but he looked so hopeful. And I'd noticed
that he was really cute, too. Athletic with really well defined
muscles (but not a body-builder), about six foot, close cropped blond
hair, blue eyes, and a nice smile. "Uh..."

"Oh come on, it'll be fun." He smiled again. I couldn't resist that
smile.

"Well, alright. But someplace near here."

And so we went out for the first time. Mike and Jessica. We took his
cute little red LeBaron convertible to a local Italian restaurant and
had a wonderful dinner. When he put his arm around me, it was so
solid and I felt so safe that I almost forgot about how we'd met. He
took care of everything at dinner. He asked me what I wanted, ordered
the wine (something I've never done with any success), picked dessert,
guided the conversation (he got me talking about myself, we never
really talked about him), and eventually drove me home. It felt so
natural to let him take charge of the evening.

When we got to my place, he escorted me to my door hugged me at the
threshold, and waited. I made the decision to kiss him. It was
wonderful. Melting into his hard frame, feeling him hold me, feeling
his lips on my own, neither of us wanted to break it and for a long
time neither of us did. I was breathless when we parted.

I looked into his eyes for a bit and then said, "Would you like to
come in?" I know I shouldn't have. But he had been so nice. And
he'd taken my mind off the horror of the previous night. And I really
liked him. He accepted with a little smile and came in.

I offered coffee, he declined. I put on some music (some soft jazz).
We talked for a brief moment. He sat on one end of the couch. I sat
next to him. Before long we were kissing again. Long, slow, deep,
wet kisses that last three days (I know what Kevin Costner was talking
about now).

We gradually progressed. I unbuttoned his shirt, running my hands
over his chest. Holding him, feeling his strength, reveling in it.
We paused, lying side by side on the couch, panting for breath. I
whispered "I think we should slow down..."

"Mmmmm." He kissed me again, one hand cupping my (still clothed)
breast. "Does this feel good?"

God, Yes. "God, yes..."

He lightly bit my neck. "And that?"

"Mmmm...Hmmmm." Yes.

"Shhhh, now." And he squirmed until he was sitting up, pulling me
atop him. "Shhh, don't say a word." He stood, carrying me tight
against his chest. We walked into my bedroom. He gently set me down
on my bed, kneeling in front of me, somewhat between my legs. "Shhh.
Don't say anything. If you want me to stop, say so. Just relax and
enjoy. Shhhh."

I wasn't sure. I tensed, and he felt it. "Mike...It's our first
date. I don't know..."

He kissed me. "Jessica, I'll do whatever you want. Just relax,
please?" And he smiled again. That damn smile...

He rolled me over onto my stomach and climbed up on top of me.
"You're so tense..." And he started rubbing my back. Kneading it.
It felt so good. I started to relax. Before long, he slipped his
hands up the inside of my blouse. It felt better. I allowed him to
turn me partially over and unbutton it. He felt me tense a little
again and whispered, "Shhh, Jessica. I'll do whatever you want.
Shhh." And he pulled my blouse off. He was really good at that
backrub thing. I relaxed again.

I lifted myself up to help him with my bra. It did feel much better
being rid of the thing. "Shhh, Jessica..."

Getting my jeans off was a bit of a logistics problem, but he managed
it by simply lifting me up (did I mention he was strong), allowing me
to unbutton, and lightly tugging. My panties followed.

He then set me back down and resumed the massage. I think I actually
dozed off because I missed him disrobing. I did remember him fondling
me though, light caresses that slowly aroused me and brought me back
from my slumber. I wasn't a virgin, but I wasn't very experienced,
either. In my 22 years to date, I had slept with a grand total of
three men. Two of those were in high school (I only slept with one of
them once), and the other was a virgin when we started. I'd never
been with an experienced man before.

Mike made me feel wonderful. His hands made me squirm. I would have
said that no one could have made me want sex again, but he did. He
hadn't even been trying very long before I rolled over and tried to
pull him onto, into me.

To my surprise, he resisted. I was pulled up rather than him down.
He kept one hand down there, and used the other to guide my mouth to
his. We kissed briefly. He broke it and whispered, "What do you want
me to do?"

"Mike, please..." I wasn't sure what he wanted, but his hand was
driving me wild.

"Tell me what you want, Jessica. Tell me." His hand was stroking my
breast. He gently pushed me back down on the bed, straddling my
stomach. When I reached for him, he grabbed and held my hands. "Do
you want me to make love to you?"

"Mmmm....Yes."

"Tell me, Jessica."

"Mike, please...Make love to me. Please." The sudden cessation of
his caresses made me ache. The sight of him there, his organ erect
right in front of me made kept me aroused.

But he didn't, yet. "Please, Mike, make love to me. Please!" I
wasn't thinking about the fact that I was begging him, I just wanted
him.

"Yes, Jessica. But first, you have to make me happy." Huh? And he
inched forward, presenting me with his penis.

I'd never looked closely at a man's organ before. I had always made
love in the dark, rarely holding it, almost always letting him guide
it into me. Looking at Mike's right there in front of me (getting
closer), I was enraptured. I was warm and red, almost purple. When I
reached out for it, it jumped. It seemed alive. I stroked it, it
felt strange. There was a droplet of liquid at its tip, I rubbed it.
The skin was soft and loose, it slid freely about. I moved one hand
to Mike's scrotum behind it. It felt strange, hairy and soft.

When Mike spoke, it startled me. I had completely forgotten that this
organ was attached to a person. His voice pulled me out of my spell.
"Shhh, Jessica. Open your mouth. Use your tongue."

I'd never performed oral sex on a man. When a past boyfriend
suggested it, I was almost sick at the thought. But now, with this in
front of me, I gingerly reached out my tongue. It didn't taste bad.
There was almost no taste at all, in fact. The smell of musk, however
was overpowering. I licked it. Mike pressed forward, it entered my
mouth. I closed my eyes, just like I was kissing someone.

I could feel it in my mouth. I ran my tongue over it. Mike pressed
deeper, then withdrew. Then pressed. I nearly gagged, then he pulled
back. He was utterly silent. Press, withdraw. Press, withdraw.
Then he spoke again, "Keep licking the head when you take it. The
head is the key. Keep your lips over your teeth."

I tried to follow his directions. I wanted to tell him to stop
pushing so deep, but I couldn't speak. I mumbled something.

"No, Jessica. Don't try to talk, it exposes your teeth. Just keep
using your tongue. Yes, good girl."

When I tried to speak again, he pinched my thighs with his hands (I
guess he was leaning back). I gasped. He said, "No, don't speak.
Keep working at it." And he pumped faster.

I just wanted to say a few words, but he didn't want to let me. I
could have fought him and forced him to withdraw, but it didn't seem
worth it. I kept working at it.

His breathing increased. I could tell he was getting close when I
realized he was probably going to finish in my mouth. I grew frantic.
I didn't want that. I stopped. He kept pumping and said, "Jessica,
just a few more seconds. Yes, good girl." No! I had stopped. I
tried to turn my head, but it was too late.

It seemed like he filled my mouth to overflowing. I gagged, but his
hands held my head still. He kept repeating, "Shhh, Jessica, don't
say a word. Shh, Jessica, don't say a word." I could feel him still
pouring into my mouth. The taste was strange. Not really bad, just
salty (is that too cliche? Well, it was salty...). The consistency
was awful, though. Like a thick, warm soup.

I swallowed. I didn't really want to, but it was already there and he
had prevented me from spitting it out. He slowly withdrew, then got
off me and cuddled close. "Thank you, Jessica." He kissed me.

I couldn't decide whether to be mad at him or not. But his lips kept
me from speaking immediately. As we kissed, his hand wandered back
down between my legs, reawakening feelings that had cooled somewhat.
When he released my lips, I was gasping. He whispered, "Shhh, don't
say anything." And he played me like that, one hand at my breast, one
in my sex, whispering in my ear to not say anything. It felt
wonderful.

I'm not sure how long we went on like that, it was probably close to
half an hour but may have been as little as ten minutes. Eventually,
though, as I was gasping and squirming almost totally out of control,
he rolled over and slowly entered me. Oh, God, I had never felt such
a release. I reached out and yanked him down on top of me. But he
once again resisted, whispering into my ear, "What is it, Jessica,
what do you want me to do?"

"Oh, God, Mike, please, quickly, make love to me!" He moved, but so
slowly it was maddening.

"Beg me."

"Please! Please! Please! I'll do anything. Please make love to me!
Mike, please! Make love to me!" I tried to make him move, but he
still just moved enough to keep me aroused.

"Tell me to take you. Beg me to take you."

"Oh, God, Mike. Please take me. Please! Take me! Take me now!" He
sped up, then slowed again, leaving me gasping.

"Beg me to dominate you."

"Mike! Oh, please! Please just do it. Please take me! Dominate me!
Please! Do it!"

"Now, just one more. You'll be mine, Jessica. All mine. Beg me to
make you mine. Beg me!"

"Mike, please! Now, please, Mike. Make me yours! Take me, dominate
me, just please make love to me now!"

And he did. Oh, God, it was fantastic. It seemed to go on for hours.
He made me feel wonderful. I was never sure in the past if I had an
orgasm, but I know I did with Mike. It was wonderful.

Only when he was done, lying on top of me, both of us gasping, covered
in sweat, did I realize we had used no protection. Shit! My sponges
were put away safely in my cabinet and here he was, lying on top of me
after filling me with his seed. And this was California, land of the
STD. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. And I barely knew him. Shit shit shit
shit.

He felt me tensing. "What's wrong, Jessica?"

"You didn't wear a condom! I didn't use anything! Shit! How could I
have been so stupid? Shit!"

"Shhh. It's OK. I'm healthy. You're healthy. If you're pregnant,
we'll deal with it then. But I think it's OK." He stroked my face as
he said this, and kissed me lightly. Somhow, this make me feel
infinitely better.

I relaxed. Against my better judgement, I relaxed.

Before long, we dozed off in each other's arms. Me, the near-rape
victim and my handsome saviour.

When I awoke the next morning, he was gone. There was a note on the
bedside:

Jessica,
I'm not abandoning you! I have to be at work at
6 in the morning and didn't want to wake you.
Please don't be upset, I had the most wonderful
time with you. I WILL call you tonight. Please
don't make any plans, I would LOVE to see you
again.
Mike

[To be continued]


 
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