Never Say Never 4

*This story is based on actual events, though the names are changed for anonymity. And since it’s been well over 20 years, I’ve had to fill in some blanks loosely but the essence of the story is real.

I was 18 years old, when I got my first office job. Nothing glamorous for sure; I did data entry for a plumbing wholesale distributor in Orlando, Florida. But it was definitely better than working retail at the Florida Mall. I’ve always been a fairly shy and reserved person but it wasn’t long before I’d become friends with the other women in the office. Looking back, I see that they were more like sisters to me.

I didn’t realize how much like a sister Sandy was until about a year later, when I met Rick. Well, at first, I didn’t really “meet” him so much as saw him one day as he was walking to the warehouse. Sandy brown hair, broad shoulders that filled out his t-shirt nicely and a stride full of confidence; not in a cocky way, just self-assured. It was the first time, since I was 14 that I’d felt any interest in a guy and it really just blew me away.

Being curious, but not forward, I inquired about him around the office. Sandy was the one that told me his name and mentioned that he was married, with two kids. And, that was that except for the fact that I couldn’t get him off my mind and seemed to see him more and more around the warehouse and building. Each time, I just felt a pull to him that I couldn’t, and to this day, cannot explain.

One night, after work, a bunch of people met at a local bar for some drinks. And, even though I was only 19, I went because we knew they wouldn’t card me since I was coming in with a large group of co-workers that went there somewhat regularly on Fridays after work.

We were all sitting and talking, laughing about one thing or another. I was sipping a beer and more or less, taking in all the activity around me. That’s when I noticed someone pulling up a chair next to me. When I looked up, I was staring into the most sensual smoky brown eyes, I’d ever seen and recognized Rick immediately. I felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest.

After some general niceities around the table, he introduced himself to me. I told him my name and we fell quickly into a nice conversation. He mostly asked me questions because, not only was I shy around men, I was somewhat apprehensive.

I’d only had one crush, not even really a boyfriend, in my life. I was 13 when I met him and immediately fell head over heels for him and though we never really dated, we did have the occasion to make-out from time to time. He always tried to push for sex but I knew I wasn’t ready for that. I wasn’t a dick tease because I always thought that was just a hateful thing to do and I never let him get any further than kissing. One night he came over and nothing was unusual, at first. When he started pushing about sex and trying to get somewhere, I told him no and started to push him away…only this time he didn’t let me. Thinking he was just trying harder, I went to move away and before I knew it, he had me pinned down and was on top of me. I guess I didn’t believe he would do something I didn’t want him to but I was wrong. Before I realized how serious the situation was, he had my shorts and panties off and was raping me. Between the pain and the shock, I don’t know just how long it all lasted. When he was done, he got up, put on his pants and smiled at me, as I lay there crying. I blamed myself mostly. I mean, he wasn’t the first guy that had ever tried to get into my pants and I’d always fought them off so I kept thinking I must have let it happen. It wasn’t until many, many years later that I realized it was his fault not mine. I’d always made myself clear; and he chose to cross that line of trust.

But back to Rick; because when I met him, I was still struggling with my feelings about the rape; about the fact that the one thing most women hold precious is their virginity and the desire to give it willingly to someone that truly cares about them. The fact that I no longer had it to give, and would always have the memory of it being taken by someone I trusted to care about me, at least as a friend, in such a vile and heartless manner.

Through our conversation that night, Rick invited me to meet him for lunch one day the following week, which I accepted. He was nice and easier to talk to than any other guy I’d met. The invitation was sincere and not lecherous and he was married, so there weren’t any romantic intentions.

We met for lunch, at a local park the following week and it was the nicest time I’d had with a man in forever. We talked, laughed and kidded about him teaching me to ice skate. I discovered that he was 9 years older than me, married his high school girlfriend and had two kids. When it was time to go, he walked me to my car, leaned over and gave me a kiss on the lips. It felt like electric and stunned me that this simple kiss made me feel warm inside.

For the next several weeks, we’d meet for lunch, at the park, whenever he was not out doing deliveries at lunchtime. I didn’t realize how obvious my infatuation was until I heard that Sandy had told him he better not hurt me because I was a really good person. Parts of me didn’t feel that way because I knew he was married but could think of little else than being with him and the way it felt when he kissed me.

One evening he called and invited me to go to the movies with him. We went to a small theater near where he grew up and it was truly amazing. Being snuggled up next to him, watching the movie and sharing a popcorn, was so basic yet magical to me. No one had ever made me feel like he did. After the movie, we sat in my car for a while kissing and holding each other. He had made no secret about being married and unhappy so I felt I should tell him about what had happened to me. I figured, after that, he would realize I wouldn’t be easily taken to bed and that would be that. But I also knew I was really falling for him, knowing I couldn’t have him and not wanting to get hurt. I’d never told anyone what had happened to me because I was embarrassed but it seemed almost natural to tell him.

Instead of feeling a push, I felt a pull. He asked me some questions and held me, telling me how wrong the guy was and how sorry he was that it had happened to me. At this point, I know, I’m over my head for this man. Part of me says I should just stop seeing him because I will only fall more and more, ending up with a broken heart. The other part desperately wants to feel what he makes me feel.

Over the next several years, we’d meet for lunch and evenings, here and there, to the movies; to the apple orchard where he tried to teach me (unsuccessfully) to drive a manual transmission; and parked somewhere, talking and kissing. He only held, kissed and touched me to the level I was comfortable, never pushing or trying to convince me I should have sex with him.

One night, we had parked in an isolated area. As usual, we were talking and kissing. Every time he kissed and touched me, I wanted more; I knew I wanted more. But between my shyness and lack of experience, I didn’t really know how to respond to his touches.

This time, we got out of the car and were leaned against the hood. He wrapped his arms around me and began slowly kissing me. As he reached under my shirt and began kneading my breast, I relaxed and did not stop him. The feeling was so amazing and I wanted more so when he reached around and unhooked my bra, I simply slid it off. As his hand touched the flesh of my breast, with his calloused thumb rubbing over my nipples, I arched toward him and ached for him to keep going. He undid my blouse and slid it off my shoulders as he lay me back across the hood of the car. As he continued working the tiny sensitivies of my breasts and nipples, he leaned down and began kissing my breasts and caressing the nipple of one breast with his teeth and tongue, while he kept his other hand on the other breast. I was in absolute heaven and I never wanted all these feelings to end. I desperately wanted to do or say something to let him know how much I wanted him but I was still at such a loss.

And though I wanted to go beyond, he stopped himself before he pushed too far. Before long it was time for him to go, as we passionately kissed and planned to meet again soon. It was after I got home, that I wanted and needed Rick to be my first real lover. He was the one who I wanted to give to because he did care about me, as a person, even if we couldn’t be together for much more than that, it didn’t matter to me. I knew that he cared too much for me to push and unless I made the next move, it might never happen.

The next time he called, I invited him to come to my place. It was a bit awkward, at first, because I still lived with my mom and younger siblings but I wasn’t going to be deterred from what I desired. We went to my room and started watching a movie. As we lay on my bed, we began kissing and touching each other. Without having to say a word, he began taking my clothes off, kissing and nibbling as he went and I responded in the small ways I knew how. After I was completely naked, I began helping him take off his shirt and pants. As we lay in each other’s arms with our bodies pressed together, kissing, I was elated and scared, at the same time. This time I wasn’t scared about the idea of making love, I was scared I didn’t know what the hell to do to please and arouse him. As I lay there, considering what I should do next, his kisses moved down my neck and stomach. Not really knowing what to expect, I was totally unprepared when I felt his hands and tongue on me, licking and sucking so gently, yet with amazing intensity. It was surreal to me…the heat that swept up and through my entire body, making me moan lowly and arch slightly toward his eager mouth. The combination of the cool air reaching my delicate extremities and his hot tongue racing over the same areas was exquisite and had me ready and willing for whatever would come next. I could feel tingling as I was growing wetter and wetter, wanting more; wanting him inside me, making love to me.

The knock on the door brought us both out of our reverie. “What?” I asked whoever was at the damn door. “Rick’s wife just called, asking if he was here. She said this was the last number called when she hit redial,” my sister replied. And SLAM, just like that, reality slapped us both in the face.

There would be no more time for us that evening. Rick apologized, dressed and kissed me before he left. I didn’t hear from him again; nor saw him, as I had left the company we’d met at, about a year before that night. I didn’t try to contact him because I didn’t know what he wanted, if anything, after that point. A few months later, I left Florida and moved out of state.

Last month, I found Rick on Facebook. It’s been over 20 years since that night and I must say, he still looks as hot and sexy as he did then. I have thought about him often, even after being married for over 13 years. He has since divorced and recently remarried and admitted that he thought about me often over the years, as well. We chat now and the connection is definitely still there; but like he said, “it’s a good thing I’m in Georgia and you’re all the way in Ohio.” But we’ve agreed that in the next lifetime, we are hooking up.

To be continued? Guess, we’ll have to wait and see…..