A couple of times a week Jackie would meet her friends at the pub for a couple of drinks. She was not a particularly heavy drinker but she enjoyed the scene. One night, a week or so after the party, she had left the pub and begun to walk home alone. The streets were relatively well lit and there was no real danger, it was a smallish village and most people were known to her.
As she walked down the main street a bus passed in a roar of warm air, lights and diesel fumes. It stopped at the bus stop a little ahead of her. It was the last bus from town. It turned around at the top of the street and went back to town 5 minutes later. She had caught it many times with friends after a night out.
Tonight only one passenger got off and she recognised him instantly. He stood and waited for her as the bus drew away. He waited for her to catch up. Although her heart quickened at the sight of him she approached him with some trepidation.
"Thought it was you," he said by way of greeting. "Saw you as we came round the corner." She didn't say anything but walked alongside him with her head down, looking at the darkened pavement in front of her. She was just so aware of him, his presence dominated her, dwarfed her will somehow. "You don't seem very pleased. I got off just to walk home with you. You could at least say thanks."
She looked at him; he was looking straight ahead and smiling. "Thanks," she said quietly. Alan nodded and began a running conversation that lasted all the way home. He didn't notice, or didn't particularly care, that she wasn't joining in. He laughed at his own jokes and leaned in close to her when he thought he was saying something important.
As they turned in to the woods at the end of the gardens Jackie felt that she should say something. She was so pleased that he had got off the bus to walk with her and she had trailed home alongside him like a stupid little girl. "How's the bike?" she asked finally as they neared their back gates. "I haven't seen you out on it much recently."
He stopped and turned to look at her "Come in and see it." It was not really phrased as a request, more as a statement of fact.
She shook her head slightly and began to say, "No thanks," when he took her arm and led her through his own back gate. She stood there quietly while he undid the padlock on the shed and then he stood back and held the door open for her to go in. She looked at him and then stepped into the warm darkness of his shed. It smelled of oil and cigarettes; a close, manly smell. In the dull light the bike gleamed softly along one wall; she placed her hand on its polished smoothness.
He followed her in and closed the door behind him and the outside world disappeared. She could feel her knees begin to tremble. Why did he always have this effect on her? He stepped up closely behind her and she could smell him, a mixture of aftershave, beer and cigarettes. He slipped her handbag off her shoulder and placed it on the floor by her side. "Well?" He asked quietly. "What do you think of it".
"Nice," was all she could think of say.
"Nice?" he laughed quietly. "Now that's no way to talk of a thoroughbred like her." He ran his hands down Jackie's back, his hands moulding to her curves, until he ended up cupping her bottom. She never said a word, she was unsure if he was talking of her or the bike. Taking her shoulders he turned her around and pushed her back until she was half sitting, half leaning against the broad seat of the bike. There was no resistance from her.
He placed a finger under her chin and raised her face until she was looking at him. "Are you a thoroughbred?" he asked.
She swallowed, "I don't know"
He let go of her chin and hooked his finger into the broad loop of the zipper in the denim top she was wearing. "Shall we see?" he said. "I didn't really get a good look at you at the party," he paused and smiled. "Bit pissed you see." She looked down at his finger in the loop of the zipper as she felt the zipper being pulled slowly down. "I'm not pissed now," he said.
No," she said in a whisper and she watched the zipper complete its journey. With a last pull, the top fell open. Once again she could feel the panic slowly rising inside her. How could she be standing here letting him take her clothes off again? She wanted to cry out and run; but then another part of her, the wayward part of her, told her to stay and let him put his hands on her, put his hands between her legs again, just like at the party.
"You want me to touch you don't you?" He said as if reading her thoughts. Looking down Jackie shook her head in denial. He laughed quietly. "Of course you do." He pushed the denim top from her shoulders and down her arms. "Of course you do." He said again.
She sat there quietly with the denim top half way down her arms, wrapped around her back like a stole, or a restraint. He pulled her to her feet and she tried vaguely to free her arms but he stilled her. "I think it's time to have a look at those beautiful tits of yours again don't you?" She shook her head, 'no', but he pulled her to him and simply lifted the front of her blouse and pushed it up, over her breasts.
"Ah yes," he said, holding her and looking down. She could feel her chest heaving, confined tightly by the material of her bra. "Just as I remember them." He lightly stroked the back of his hand across her nipples. She gasped as they immediately hardened, clearly showing through the thin fabric. "Nice bra," he said, brushing the swell of her breast through the fabric. With a practised movement he reached behind her and unfastened the clip. "But next time don't wear one, it's easier."
"There won't be a next time," she managed to say as he flipped her bra up and out of the way, releasing her breasts to the cool night air. She gasped again as he bent down and took a nipple in his mouth. He suckled deeply and hearing her intake of breath, he let go with a laugh.
"Of course there'll be a next time. I'm going to fuck you one day. Now let's have a good look at your tits shall we?" he said and pushed her back, her arms still entangled in her jacket.
