Catching My Dream Girl

"NO, Derek, you CAN'T put your finger in there!" she shouted. She slapped at my arm.

I gently pulled my finger out of her cunt, then more roughly grasped and ripped her panties along the seam. I tossed them to the floor.

"I'll do MORE than TOUCH you there!" I threatened.

She momentarily froze, her hands at her sides. I took the opportunity to pull her skirt down over her slim hips, all the way to the floor. She began writhing away, so I grabbed her naked buttocks and pulled her toward me.

I lifted her up off the floor and gazed at her body. She was stark naked other than her shoes. She stopped struggling momentarily, watching me watch her.

Her pubic mound was as naked as the day she was born. It was clean-shaven, though I had expected it to be forested with hair as black as the raven-hued locks on her head.

She could surely see the lust in my eyes as I raised her higher off the ground. This was my dream girl, the one I'd wanted since I'd been old enough to want. Could she see the emotions that ran deeper than lust?

I carried her to her bedroom, turning on a bedside lamp after I laid her on the bed. She attempted to break free, but I held her legs apart and leaned on them.

"I'm going to lick your pussy," I announced.

Her eyes once again seemed to betray a mixture of surprise and excitement. Or was it mental shock?

"But Derek, you CAN'T. When a girl says NO, it means NO!"

I momentarily wondered whether I should indeed stop. She was right in what she said -- I just wasn't sure it was what she meant. In her warped world of mortal sins, she HAD to object in order for her non-consent to be legitimized.

But if she truly DID mean "no" -- I could be up shit creek and facing a jail term if I carried through on the rape.

I decided to trust my instincts, and trust what Holly had said to me earlier. Surely the judge would understand my confusion from the mixed messages. Or not.

I moved my head between her knees and then gently kissed her inner thighs, first one leg and then the other. I worked my way up toward the juncture of her legs. She wriggled and seemed to make a show of trying to break free.

I was near enough to my target to smell her musky vaginal scent. She put her hands on my head as if to push me away. I grabbed her wrists and said, "Be still -- you're going to LIKE this!"

"No, NO," she cried, "I won't like it at ALL! It's on YOUR head if you do this to me!"

I chose to ignore her protests. It was the neurosis speaking, I told myself.

I kissed all the way to her hairless cunt, then stuck out my tongue and licked languorously along her slit.

I had already felt that she was wet when I had plunged my finger in her twat before ripping her panties off. Now I was aiming for creating sensation, not moistness -- foreplay to rape, so to speak.

As my tongue became more voracious, Holly's body began to shudder. I chose to think it was from an approaching orgasm -- or was she crying?

I plunged my tongue deep into her vagina, tongue-fucking her for a few minutes. I then penetrated her love tunnel with three fingers. I began sucking her clit, hoping to finish off her orgasm as I plunged my fingers deeper. But I never felt the tell-tale clenching of her release.

I decided it was time for the main event. "I'm going to let go of your legs and stand up now," I said, "but don't try to get away, or I'll have to hurt you!"

I couldn't believe those words came from my mouth. There was no way in hell I'd ever deliberately hurt Holly Grandal. But she needed to be coerced in order to keep her conscience clean.

I kept telling myself that I was playing a necessary role. Tell that to the judge, my inner voice berated me.

She watched me suspiciously, her legs still splayed apart. I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my socks. I unbuttoned my jeans, pulled down the fly and yanked them down.

Her eyes grew wider as I stood before her in my jockey shorts and Red Sox jersey. My raging hard-on threatened to burst through my jockey shorts.

In a moment, my jersey was on the floor and my fingers were on the waistband of my underwear.

"You're not going to take those OFF, are you?" she asked with a wail.

"Of course, little lady -- I'm going to make your pussy mine!" I asserted with a swagger.

"NO -- NO! You CAN'T DO THIS TO ME, Derek!" she screeched.

"Just watch me, baby," I retorted. With that, I pulled my jockey shorts off and threw them aside.

My rigid boner was pointing toward the ceiling. I thought I heard a gasp from Holly's direction.

As I knelt back on the bed, she clamped her knees together.

"You don't want me to have to pry those apart," I said mockingly, "I have a package to deliver to you, so open up the mailbox!"

I gently prodded her legs apart, and she gave in with a whimper. Her hairless cleft was so inviting, I couldn't wait to get my cock inside of it. My dream girl was about to be mine.

I hope it's worth the prison time, my inner voice taunted me.

With my knees between hers, I began to massage Holly's breasts with my palms. She wiggled from side to side as if to escape my touch, but it just made her tits jiggle and got me more excited.

"I have to have you," I said calmly, "I've wanted this for so long."

Holly stopped struggling and looked up at my face. A tear leaked from her eye and she began to tremble. "Don't send me to hell," she whispered obliquely.

I took her wrist in my hand and guided it toward my cock. I wrapped her fingers around my erect penis.

I could feel her hand shaking as she held my prick. It was almost more erotic than having her stroke it.

"Okay, baby, I'm going to get lined up with you, and I want you to guide me in," I directed.

"You're going to have to be the one to do it," she replied quietly.

I nodded my assent. She may -- or may not -- want me to do this, but given her neurotic fears, she couldn't admit as much by helping me to enter her.

I took the lead and removed her hand from my cock, but kept her hand in mine. I used my other hand to guide my cock to her pussy. Once there was contact, I rubbed my dick up and down her moist slit to lubricate my manhood.

"Holly, you've always been my dream girl. Now I'm going to make you my woman," I told her honestly.

I pushed gently against her folds with my stiff and slick penis. I thought I felt her raise her hips toward mine, but the movement was so slight that it might have been an involuntary twitch.

"Holly, if you're really a virgin, this might hurt -- but only for a minute. Don't try to stop me. I've gone too far to pull back now."

I gulped with a strange mixture of trepidation and anticipation.

I pushed forward with my hips, feeling her slick labia spread apart to accept my aching, throbbing cock. I pushed part-way in and hit a barrier. She was a virgin indeed!

I grasped her ass cheeks and pulled her toward me. She stiffened and inhaled a sharp, wincing intake of breath. I held still for a moment.

Suddenly, my cock slid deeper inside her. I had taken her cherry! I began thrusting vigorously.

"Now you're mine, Holly, and I'm gonna spray my seed inside you. I don't fuckin' care if you get pregnant." I put my arms around her shoulders and squeezed her toward me.

"Oh, my GOD, Derek -- what are you SAYING?"

In a way, it seemed like I had indeed lost my mind. I hadn't dreamed in a million years that I'd be fucking Holly Grandal tonight, so I didn't have a single condom in my possession.

And of course, Holly wouldn't keep them in her apartment. Not only was she a virgin and a conservative Catholic, but keeping a supply of condoms would be tantamount to admitting consent.

"You heard me, Holly -- I'm glad we don't have any condoms. I don't care if you get pregnant," I said, continuing to thrust as I held her close. I watched her face and felt her tits jiggling against my chest.

"You want to fuckin' wreck my life, don't you, you fuckin' rapist!" she sneered.

Her words felt like a verbal kick in the groin. Was I REALLY RAPING her?

I decided to come completely clean with her, unleashing my hidden emotions of the greater part of my life.

"But Holly, I want to have babies with you - not to wreck your life, but as part of joining our lives," I admitted. "They'll be the smartest kids on the planet. Holly, don't you see? I LOVE you. I always HAVE."

I thrust deeper, kissing her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, and -- finally -- her lips.

She seemed to be frozen in stunned silence. Finally, as I slowed my thrusting, she spoke.

"You -- LOVE me?" she rasped.

"And I'm going to spurt my cum inside you to make you mine! I've never loved anyone else!" I had lost all inhibition.

"Holy SHIT!" she exclaimed. "You BASTARD!"

Despite her words, I couldn't hold back. I increased the tempo of my thrusts as I continued to kiss and fondle her body.

She went completely rigid just as my throbbing cock and balls could contain their enthusiasm no longer.

"Holly, I'm going to cum! Cum with me! Oh, HOLLY!!!" I cried out. My orgasm erupted violently and my sperm spewed forth in search of Holly's egg.

Tears flowed once again from Holly's eyes. She was shaking spasmodically, and I couldn't tell whether from anger or joy, from fear or sexual release.

As my climax subsided, my brain began to overload. I desperately wanted to clear the air with her, but my alcoholic overindulgence at the bar, the strain of the role-playing, and the endorphin release of my orgasm conspired to overwhelm my fuzzy synapses. I rolled off Holly and onto the bed beside her, draping my arm across her chest. Without realizing it, I drifted off to sleep...

* * * * *

I awoke to bright sunlight filtering through the window. I had a splitting headache. I was hung over and needed some coffee. Where was I? Had I just been dreaming about Holly Grandal again?

My brain slowly began to piece together the events of the night before. Had I really met up with Holly Grandal at a sports bar? Was this her apartment? Holly was not in the room.

Oh, my GOD! Had I RAPED her?

I pulled back the sheets in horror. Sure enough, there was a mixture of blood and semen on the sheets. I had taken her cherry. It was no dream.

"Holly?" I called out, "Are you HERE, Holly?"

No answer.

I crawled out of bed, completely naked. I grabbed my clothes up off the floor and quickly dressed. After taking a piss in her toilet, being careful to raise the seat, I left Holly's apartment.

Outside, I hailed a cab and gave him the address to my apartment. The cabbie gave me an odd stare. I stared back at him, taking in his turban and Middle Eastern appearance.

It took me a moment to realize the source of his consternation: I was disheveled and smelled of raw sex. "Let's go," I said, ending the staredown. I guess he decided his fare was more important than his disdain. We headed toward my apartment.

He dropped me off in front of my building. It was Saturday, so at least I didn't have to worry about being late for class amidst all my other troubles. I went upstairs to get a shower.

The door to the bathroom was locked. I banged on the door, and my roommate Ted called out. "Just a minute, bro," he shouted.

I heard the sound of a flush, and then water running in the sink. When he opened the door, the stench of shit stopped me in my tracks.

"You might want to wait a minute to go in there, dude," Ted said, "Had to take a major dump. I left the fan on for you."

"Sure, Ted," I said, backing away from the door.

He was wrapped in a large gray bath towel, his hair still sopping wet. I couldn't tell whether the towel was supposed to be gray or just really needed to be washed.

"You okay, dude?" he asked as he passed by me.

"Sure," I replied.

He stopped and sniffed. "You get laid?" he queried, looking me over.

I was struck with the thought that he could just as well have been a disapproving cabbie, were it not for the smile on his face.

"Well, sort of -- yeah," I answered.

"Who was it?"

"Oh, a girl I used to know in school," I said nonchalantly, trying to evade further discussion.

I wanted to have my shower before the police arrived. Surely the aroma of crap had dissipated from the bathroom by now. And, if not, I knew where to find a can of Lysol under the sink.

"Really?" he asked. "Was it that girl that called yesterday afternoon?"

His words stopped me in my tracks. "What girl?" I asked.

"Well, a girl called saying she went to school with you. Said she wanted to talk to you. Said she was having a problem and you were the only person she trusted to help her out." Ted hesitated as he saw the expression on my face.

"Go on," I said.

"It sounded important, so I told her where you'd be watching the game," he continued.

I let out a gasp.

"Well, you're the one who's too cheap to buy a cell phone. You sure you're okay?" Ted asked.

Ted's revelation had stunned me. So it wasn't happenstance that Holly had run into me at the sports bar. She had sought me out! She knew all along that I WAS THE ONE she wanted to help her through her sick dilemma. I WAS THE ONE SHE WANTED TO TAKE HER CHERRY!

That was the good news. But was there bad news? Had she truly changed her mind and tried to back out? Had I actually raped her? In a court of law, I would be guilty as charged. But in the court of Holly's mind and heart, where did I stand?

"Dude, you need to sit down," Ted encouraged, "you look like you're about to pass out."

I took his advice and allowed him to guide me to the couch. I sat as Ted went to the kitchen to pour me a cup of coffee. "Here, take this," he said, handing me my java.

Ted went to his room to dress while I drank from the cup. The coffee helped with the hangover but not with the nagging fear.

I finished up and headed toward the bathroom. Ted passed me in the hall. "I'll be back tonight," he said as he headed to the front door.

As I showered, I thought about a myriad of possible interpretations and outcomes from the night before. I lingered in the stream of hot water, wishing I knew the answers, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.

After drying off, I dressed slowly, still thinking. I was just going to the kitchen to find some food when the doorbell rang. I felt a wave of panic. I was sure it was the police.

When I opened the door, Holly stood in front of me, looking directly into my eyes. She looked radiant and beautiful, but her state of mind was unreadable.

"You left this at my place," she said, handing me my Red Sox cap.

"Thanks," I replied, my brain still addled.

She didn't turn to leave.

Here's where she slams the hammer down, my inner voice warned me. I waited for her to make the next move.

She seemed to be taking a moment to work up her courage. Was the "rapist" accusation about to fly? Finally, she spoke.

"Did you mean what you said last night, Derek?" she asked directly.

"About what?" I feigned ignorance, hoping the word "rape" would not enter the conversation.

"That you've always loved me..." she responded bluntly.

I gazed directly into her clear blue eyes. "Yes, I meant it," I responded.

"And that you want me to have your babies?"

"Yes, I meant that too."

She shook her head and closed her eyes. "You know what, Derek?"

"No -- what?" I couldn't imagine what she was going to say.

"This hell I was telling you about last night -- wanting to have sex but feeling like I had to save myself for marriage..."

"Yes -- what about it?" I asked.

"I didn't want to have sex with just anybody -- I wanted to have sex with YOU."

I felt a little bit lighter in my chest. "Well, my roommate told me you called looking for me..."

"Yes, but then I got so nervous that I had to get drunk before I could work up the nerve to see you," she confessed.

I was beginning to see the picture more clearly. "So you came looking for me to have sex with me. But that whole 'fear of hell' and 'need for non-consent' thing -- is that real?"

"Scary real," she replied. "I wasn't just messing with your head."

"So did I actually -- rape you?"

There was a stricken look in her eyes.

I feared the worst. I started to babble. "I mean, I would never want to hurt you or traumatize you, Holly. I was so conflicted, knowing that you said you WANTED me to rape you in order to help you out of your moral dilemma..."

Her shoulders sagged and her head dropped. Then she looked back up at me, a tear once again forming in each eye.

"Derek, I'm so sorry about that. I'm so messed up. I had to try to convince myself that I wasn't consenting. But Derek -- I wanted it -- wanted YOU -- SO MUCH."

I breathed a sigh of relief. I reached out and gently stroked her cheek.

"So does that mean I'm not going to jail, but you're going to hell?" I joked.

I immediately wished I hadn't said it -- I felt like such an idiot, making fun of something that had given her such pain.

I think she could see the remorse in my eyes. She smiled at me and stroked my cheek in return.

"You took away that fear when you told me you loved me and wanted to have babies with me. Imagine that -- I find out just as you're plowing your cock into my pussy that it's more than just a physical act for you. I could have killed you right then and there!"

"Is that why you called me a bastard?"

"Damned straight. You see, Derek -- I've always loved you, too. I just didn't know you loved me in return. You were always so competitive. I thought you couldn't STAND me. So when you confessed your love last night, I was angry that you'd never shown any interest before, that we wasted all those years."

"But, Holly -- oh, my gosh. I really BLEW it, didn't I?'"

"Only for a season, Derek. What's meant to be is meant to be..."

"And what's meant to be for US, Holly?"

"You love me -- I love you. You want to have babies together -- I want to have babies together. So, in a spiritual sense, we're sort of -- married."

"Your 'get out of hell free' card?" I quipped.

"Something like that. The point is, I was struggling with saving myself for marriage because I've always been so attracted to you. But I was convinced you didn't love me and so would never marry me, so I couldn't give myself to you. It's a classic catch-22 situation. But now, everything has changed."

I smiled at Holly. My dream girl was real. I wasn't a rapist -- I was a lover, a spiritual husband. Everything had changed, indeed.

"Holly, why didn't YOU ever try to let me know about your feelings for ME?" I asked.

She laughed light-heartedly. "In high school, why do you think I joined all the same clubs and activities as you did?" she asked.

I stared blankly at her, still mentally processing the import of her confession.

"It was to be near you," she continued, "heck, I'd have even joined the chess club if I didn't suck so bad at chess. I didn't want you to see me as weak."

A lump was forming in my throat. Holly Grandal had always wanted to be near - ME?

"Derek, I'd have even followed you to Boston College if my parents would have let me. I couldn't afford school on my own, even with some pretty good scholarships. I did the best I could to be near you. My parents always wanted the best for me, so they could hardly say no to Harvard."

I reached out for her hand, entwining her fingers in mine. "So why didn't you contact me here in Boston before now?" I asked.

"I wanted to - I desperately did. I found out where you lived. I'd go and stand outside your apartment building, across the street so as not to be noticed, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, wishing I had the courage to talk to you about my problem. But then I felt like such a stalker, and my inner demons were telling me you'd think I was a psycho." Her eyes were brimming with tears.

True enough, her fragile mental state was worrisome to me. But not because I was afraid of her or repulsed by her, rather because I cared about her. I could see that she was a genuinely good person - not just beautiful, funny, and smart - who was tormented by her feelings and beliefs.