Impact 20: of Ground Zero

TRIGGER WARNING: The focus of this story is a love affair between two women. But just as I am not a gold star lesbian, Sarah has an impure past. She is remembering that checkered past in this chapter, which includes episodes of nonconsent - but as always, the erotic focus is between women.

Thanks to HaltWhoGoesThere for copy editing.

Impact of Ground Zero

I was striding down Greenwich Street, taking the longest steps my legs and Claire's shoes would allow. I was trying to outrun my

Sunday Scaries,

but I must have been a sight because I was drawing LOOKS. Hopefully, it was my outfit and not the fact that I'd just been crying.

I was pretty sure it was the way I was dressed. I had changed back into Claire's high-waisted short shorts and her little top. Add to that, the looks were mostly from men, but some were from women, and most were admiring, a few were hungry. No one seemed worried or concerned.

It was the outfit.

My phone had vibrated repeatedly while I was talking to my mom. I don't slow down, but check my phone, hiding from the eyes trying to catch mine.

There were texts from both Helen and Claire.

It is always a pleasure seeing you. Claire is a very lucky woman ;)

Despite myself, I barked a laugh. My life was so strange.

I opened Claire's text.

I'm awake! I'm sorry I fell back to sleep. Are you home?

She wanted to know if she could come uptown. I told her that I needed to read and draw; to focus on the project, and that she should rest.

That was the truth, but it was also a lie of omission. Of all the things I confessed while making love to Claire, I was most ashamed of what I hadn't admitted, about the job. I hated that I was being cagey, hated even more that I didn't know why I was being cagey...

Although, I was also more than a little embarrassed by how much I'd confessed. For Claire it was probably just run-of-the-mill dirty talk, but what I told her when I was talking dirty was

true,

and I wanted to be alone with that embarrassment.

"I just want to serve you!"

I'd said that out loud - pleaded - I could feel my cheeks burning. 'Why did I have to say that? What can she think?'

She had called me a servant... Helen and my mother and Claire were all troubling around my head. I needed to clear my thoughts, so rather than go straight home, I turned downtown to go shopping for Claire.

'Because I'm her servant,' I thought mockingly. But I was smiling again, or trying to.

I knew where I had to go, and what I had to do. I headed south. But I was still thinking about Danny and that first year at Brown...

That first fall away from home had been heady and exciting but also scary and lonely.

I had been pursued by a series of boys, first year, but also upperclassmen. It was thrilling and flattering. I had mostly kept them at arm's length with stories about Danny. But there was one beautifully thin and effeminate upperclassman boy named Jeremy who pushed past those stories, refusing to be deterred.

He was from Seattle - which had seemed so far away as to be the stuff of fantasy. I imagined everyone must live in houseboats like Tom Hanks in

You've Got Mail.

Jeremy said that was absolutely ridiculous, that only architects lived in houseboats in Seattle.

He had long brown hair, blue eyes, and lips like a bow that made me weak with longing, and one night I let him kiss me.

That was the closest I came to cheating on Danny... with a boy.

The very next day,

like she knew,

my mother wrote to me, pressing me to reach out to Danny, to invite him to visit. She pointed out I had a three-day weekend coming up in a couple weeks.

Part of me dreaded what I was opening myself up to. After we had sex the first time I pictured him taking up residence in my dorm room. But Danny had surprised me by keeping his distance. After years of being joined at the hip, it was strange not to talk to him every day.

I did as I was asked and broke things off with Jeremy. Campus was especially lonely after that. I had Kwasi and my other friends in the dorm, and in my classes, but Jeremy and his circle of friends had swept me up and made me forget everything else. Without them to distract me, I realized how much I missed Danny.

I was also beginning to realize I was out of my depth at Brown, and not just socially. Writing was never my strong suit, so I was encouraged to sign up for classes with a "writing designation" - I was struggling to keep up. But I was even flailing in my physics seminar. It was all so intense and different from what I was used to.

"Your research is great," my anthropology TA told me, handing me back a B- paper. "But you really need to focus on your writing. You can do better than this."

My mostly unflappable roommate, Jilly, thought I was losing my mind. I cried all the time.

"Bs are not bad!" she told me impatiently. I had never been a B student.

So after dragging my feet a little longer, I finally called Danny. We ended up talking for a long time. There were gaps in our stories. I didn't tell him about Jeremy and there were things Danny was leaving out too, but I didn't care. Talking to him, I realized how terribly homesick I was. I cried and told him so; that I missed him. I invited him to visit for the long weekend.

"It's Indigenous Peoples Day," I sniffed, still a little teary. He thought I was pulling his leg.

Rather than come stay with me for the three-day weekend, he offered to pick me up and drive me home so I could spend it with him in Buffalo.

"I'll drive you," he told me when I asked how I'd get back to school. I told him he was crazy, but I agreed.

My mother was ecstatic.

When Danny came to pick me up he was so happy to see me. I brought him up to show him my room, but he just glanced around and shrugged. All he wanted to do was get back on the road. So we left. That's how it was that year.

My friends teased that he was my Canadian snuffaluffagus.

The drive was six hours for me, so it was over twelve hours of driving for him. He said I was worth it. That meant a lot to me in that moment.

I studied, we listened to music and played stupid driving games. On that first long drive home, I gave him a blowjob while he drove. He liked that and was good at staying in his lane, so we turned it into a game, trying to see how often I could make him cum on one drive. He came two more times on that drive, and four times on the drive back to school.

My next holiday was Thanksgiving. Again he showed up and scooped me up as soon as classes were over. A few hours into the drive he surprised me by pulling over. It was just after dark and at first, I thought we were stopping for gas, but the exit was dark and deserted; no amenities. He drove a bit and pulled off into what looked like just a break between the trees. I was confused when he shut off the engine until he told me to get in the backseat.

"Here?" I asked, looking out into the dark. "Danny, what if someone comes?"

"That's the idea," he deadpanned.

We had done this in his backseat twice over my Indigenous Peoples Day visit...at the forest preserve.

This time was different. The physical discomfort was the same, but this wasn't a forest preserve two blocks from my house. We were just off the road, in the middle of nowhere. A cop could come, or a biker gang, or a bear... my mind went to a lot of places when I was nervous. But as I climbed over the seat I wasn't

just

nervous. As I pulled off my jeans I realized I was really turned on - something that wasn't true the other times we had sex. Until then I had mostly felt like I was doing my duty. I blamed the car.

Unfortunately, Danny did not seem to dislike the car and found our roadside trust even more exciting than I did. It was over before it started.

While he was still able to last a long time before cumming when I gave him blowjobs, sex was turning out to be very different. He came almost at once, if not at once - both times over the

Indigenous Peoples

break, and again there at that deserted exit. It was just like our first time, but it was getting worse.

The same thing happened again after a party over Thanksgiving weekend. He didn't pull over to fuck on the drive back to school, because it was daytime, but I gave him blowjobs.

He was his old self when I gave him blowjobs, but I could tell he was upset about the sex because while he could last as long as ever, he was rougher than ever before. I didn't know what to do or say, and clearly, neither did he. So we pretended nothing was happening.

Over the Christmas holiday, we fucked a bunch of times in the car - finding places other than the forest preserve, but no matter the location the duration was always the same. I was a little frustrated but mostly I was worried for him. He was angry - at what was happening, I think - but he was taking that anger out on me. I was left with bruises where he grabbed me, an aching scalp where he pulled my hair, and sore throats from increasingly rough blowjobs.

I had lied to him about being on contraception - afraid it would get back to my parents if he told his parents. I told him I was using the rhythm method instead - something he didn't even bother trying to understand. So when I urged him to wear a condom, I told him it was because of timing.

"For me," I told him, trying to be tender.

I was just hoping it might help him last longer.

And it worked, kinda. He did last a little longer, but longer was not, it turned out, better. After a couple of minutes, he lost his erection without cumming. He was deeply mortified.

"It happens to everyone-"

"Don't!"

End of discussion.

I didn't know what else I should or shouldn't be doing or even what I

could

do differently, wedged under him in the back seat of a car. No part of me thought it would be helpful to point that out, however.

In January he came and picked me up for the MLK weekend. No change, long blowjobs, fast and furious fucks. I could tell he was trying to and failing to prove himself. We didn't try condoms again, but he had the problem of losing his erection on that visit. I think he was experimenting with a "performance enhancing" gel or spray, something to numb himself - because I felt strange.

Again he was humiliated and angry, but he was also contrite. He knew he'd been short with me, mean even, but couldn't help it.

He didn't outright say about what, but he admitted he had been praying a lot, and that he wanted me to pray too. I told him I would.

In February he picked me up and drove me home for the

Employee Appreciation

long weekend. It should have been called

Ski Appreciation,

because all the rich kids came jetting back from Sugar Loaf, Aspen, and Gstaad a week later. But whatever, I celebrated

Employee Appreciation

with a series of frantic fucks and furious blowjobs that had left me dispirited, and Danny increasingly desperate.

On the way home I had already given him a blowjob when he pulled onto the shoulder and stopped. I was a little surprised he didn't find a more private spot, but didn't question it. I started to climb over into the back seat for a "quickie" when he stopped me.

"No," he told me.

I watched him in confusion as he opened his door and got out onto the road, leaving the engine running.

"Come on," he said, slamming his door and moving around to the front of the car.

Confused, I got out on my side and joined him in the gutter of shadow between the headlights. I was afraid there was something wrong, that maybe he was angry at me for something, but I'd just been studying. We'd been driving in silence, no drama.

We were on a two-lane highway, and the stretch where he pulled over was densely forested and dark. There were no street lights, there weren't even lights peeking out from between the trees. Danny told me to turn around and face the car.

"What are you up to?" I asked, doing as he said, but twisting my neck to look back at him. I was wearing loose sweats, shearling slippers, and a giant gold and blue Sabers toque I'd stolen from my dad. Sexy, right? Not at all but really cute, and

super

comfy... and, as it turns out, easy access too.

He tugged my sweatpants and my panties right off my ass and straight down past my knees. I squealed in surprise as he pushed me forward so I was bent at the waist over the front of his Charger, my palms on its wide black racing stripes.

"Danny!" I cried in surprise and mock outrage - maybe some real outrage, it was freezing out - but it was also electric. The sound of his belt as he opened his fly sent a jolt through me. He was really going to do it!

I started to protest but he shushed me sharply, and pushed my sweatshirt up, exposing me more fully.

I remember thinking, 'Maybe this way will be different.'

As he fumbled with his cock I could see my breath blowing out a long hot stream in front of me. It was brutally cold. The rumbling engine shook my hands, but the hood was wonderfully hot against my palms, it radiated warmth against my naked thighs and bare belly. One hand on the small of my back he moved to push into me.

"Not there!" I piped.

After another false start, he slid in easily. I might have been cold and afraid but as it turned out I was

very

ready.

I

wanted

this.

...Or at least my body did. My brain was not so sure. We had never done ANYTHING like this. Danny was not a risk taker or an exhibitionist, and I was only in my imagination. The reality was, I was a scaredy-cat.

My thoughts raced. It wasn't

that

late. We were out in the open; practically

in

the road!

I could tell Danny was scared too, because as soon as he was in, he held me by the flesh of my hips and fucked me even harder and faster than usual - as hard and as fast as was humanly possible, I think. It was pneumatic, like a machine spinning out of control. His grip was bruising and his nails gouged me as he jerked me back and pushed me away as fast as he could. His hips slapped against my ass, wap!wap!wap!

I was shocked and cried out.

"ah!ah!ah!"

The cries were forced out of me, not because of his dick, but because of how violently he was shaking me.

And then, as suddenly as it started, he pulled out and jerked away. He pushed my hip to one side, spinning me around. I thought I knew what he wanted and started to drop to my knees, but he cried out.

"FUCK!"

He had shot his load before he could get his cock in my mouth, sprayed it onto the ground. In the hopes of consoling him, I knelt in the gravel, on his semen, and took his still dripping cock into my mouth.

There, in the glow between the headlights, I did my best to seal my lips around his cock and suck whatever was left from his softening cock, but he wasn't satisfied with that. He grabbed me by the hair, thrusting as deep as he could into my throat. I was caught off guard. I thought he was done, but he was making himself stiff, exciting himself by fucking my face.

It wasn't extraordinary for him to want to cum twice in a row, but the way he was treating me was extraordinary. He wasn't just finishing rough, he was turning himself on by fucking my throat as hard as he could.

Bare-assed, the frozen gravel cutting my knees, I held him by the hips as best I could. I was trying to slow him down, to protect myself, but that's not what he wanted. He wanted me to choke and gag and retch.

I had been sucking Danny off for years, was practiced at taking him into my throat, and was even used to how he could get rough sometimes when he came, especially recently. But even so, this was different. He was being violent. He was furious and he was taking it out on me. Mucousy drool coated my chin and dripped all over my sweatshirt while I tried and failed to keep up with his thrusting.

He was trying to hurt me.

He came with a grunt, hot sperm pushing into my throat. He held me pressed against his belly, mashing my nose into his hard abs, his cock jumping in my throat, as deep as it would go.

When he finally released me I gasped for a breath, falling forward onto my hands and knees, coughing. He had been suffocating me and I was desperate for air.

"Jeez, Sarah," he murmured, as he came back to his senses and realized what he had done, how far over the line he'd gone. "I'm not sure-"

That's when the lights from the pickup washed us both in blinding with its brights. I was bent double, my bottoms still around my ankles. Danny was still struggling with his jeans. The driver blasted his horn at us. My ass was hanging out, Danny's wet cock was flopping in the wind.

I lost it.

My laughter was hysterical, out of control. It was the funniest thing that had ever happened to anyone, ever.

Danny turned away, stricken. His mortification only increased my hilarity. I was bent over laughing too hard to cover myself, my ass still hanging out - which turned out to be a blessing, because I laughed so hard I pissed myself. It started as an explosive spray, shocking me into a new round of hysterical laughter. I couldn't hope to control myself. I dropped into a squat and emptied my bladder there between my feet. I watched my piss as it made a little stream running down towards my dad's Sabers toque, which had fallen off in the acrobatics between the fuck and the blowjob. I snatched the hat out of harm's way, watching my piss make its way towards the ditch, unimpeded.

'Two Diet Cokes,' I thought, igniting a new round of senseless laughter.

Back in the car, Danny was pale and silent. I was flush with excitement, giddy and high. We both knew he had done something cruel. His response was mortification, mine was intoxication.

I could not settle down. I babbled about the truck, about how bright its lights were, how loud the horn had been. I knew my glee was cruel, that Danny was humiliated and guilty, but the laughing fits kept coming. I couldn't stop. The more withdrawn he became the funnier I found everything. I knew I should stifle myself but I couldn't, so drew attention away from him, from what he had done. I made fun of myself, of how I'd mooned the trucker and nearly pissed on my hat.

Even as fast as it was and as badly as it ended, being fucked on the hood and

caught

was... orgasmic. This is not to say I came - I didn't, not even close - but

something

happened, something that excited me in a way I couldn't contain, and was not equipped to talk about. So instead I laughed. I was so turned on I was squirming in my seat.

When Danny dropped me off, our parting was awkward and shamefaced. We both knew something was terribly wrong, but neither of us had a clue how to even name it. I thanked him for driving me. He told me he'd call. We didn't kiss because I'd sucked his dick.

When I got to my room Jilly wasn't there, I stripped myself naked and immediately started masturbating face down on my bed with my knees spread and my ass in the air. It had been so much like one of my fantasies. In my imagination, I pushed it farther into the realm of my desires. The truck was blasting its horn while I was being fucked hard from behind.

In the fantasy, Danny spun me around and I dropped to my knees in full view of the truck, which had stopped on the shoulder, facing Danny's Charger. In the spotlight of the truck's brightes, Danny's cock smeared my cheek and chin and he pushed it in my open mouth. Cum flooded my tongue and he grabbed me by the hair, thrusting his cock as deep as he could into my throat. Blinded by the headlights, I choked and gagged knowing I was being watched. The driver saw me coughing up cum, spitting it all over my chin and sweatshirt.