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Her humiliating first time fuck has consequences
This is my non I/T entry for the Summer Lovin’ 2019 comp.
Thanks to all that have read the draft and given me feedback.
Cathy and I started karate training about the same time, but for different reasons. We’d never met before, and if it wasn’t for this activity, we probably never would have. I was about twenty years older than her, and getting very out of shape. Work was also getting to me and I needed a distraction. Preferably one that improved my fitness and made me focus on something besides petty office dramas. Cath was a single mum. She had a seven-year-old son who was pretty hyperactive, and she brought him to the junior training to see if it would help him expend some of that energy and learn self-control. After watching him for six months, and with some nudging from the trainers, she started at the senior classes. Her mum looked after Zac those nights.
I consider myself average. I always have. 5′ 11″, 230 pounds, dark hair going grey, average looks, nothing remarkable. Mostly average marriage to Rebecca, but no kids, comfortable but average job. Even my dick’s bang on average. Five point one inches. Depressing, but there you go. The most exciting thing anybody has said about me was “Tom’s pretty smart.” That’s debatable. I’ve done some pretty stupid things in my life.
You’d probably consider Cathy average as well, apart from her height. She was a bit over 6′, with a solid build. Shoulder length brown hair, pleasant face with a bit of a square chin, smallish boobs, and brown eyes that occasionally sparkled but mostly had a sad or faraway look in them. I found out through small talk we have before and after training that she used to be a competitive butterfly swimmer in her teens. I could see that from her broad shoulders. Apart from that, we really didn’t know much about each other.
Because of our respective ages and ability, we always stood next to each other in training, and because we were physically similar we tended to be partnered for combined exercises such as fight training. Sparring was interesting initially. We’re only supposed to do light contact fighting in the Dojo, but Cath didn’t want to hit me at all. She was comfortable with me lightly hitting her, but she always pulled her punches and kicks. No amount of coaxing from anybody could get her to follow through. After a couple of months, I managed to catch her alone and quietly asked: “Why?”
“Just stuff that happened years ago,” she replied.
I said that we were all friends in this place, and she could talk in confidence to me if she wanted.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll think about it.”
We didn’t see each other for a couple of weeks. The next time I saw her at training, there was a small difference. She was a little more confident, a little more aggressive in her fighting, and a little more chatty.
After training, she tapped me on the shoulder and asked, “Do you think we could get a coffee together sometime this week?”
“Sure,” I replied, “Is tomorrow morning ok?”
She beamed “That’d be great.”
We organised a time and place near my work and went our separate ways. I told my wife, Rebecca, about my idea to have a chat with Cathy. She was very supportive of the idea.
“Good.” Bec said, “The times I’ve met her I can tell there’s something sad inside her. She needs to get it out otherwise it will just eat at her. I’ve tried to have a bit of a talk, but she always turns the conversation to either Zac, anime, or Pokémon.” I love Bec, but she can be a bit of a “stray collector.” She’s the sort of person that sees something or someone that needs help and wants to bring it/them home. It can be frustrating, but I was happy she agreed with me about Cathy.
The following day I met Cath at the coffee shop. We got our drinks and sat on a bench seat in the park next door. Spring weather had been awful, and a touch of early summer sun was nice. She took a sip of her coffee and turned to me “Thanks for asking about me. I don’t get too many guys wanting to talk, particularly when they find out about Zac.”
I shrugged “No worries. I’m happy to chat, particularly if coffee’s involved.”
She laughed and it transformed her face. It looked like the dark clouds had blown away for a second and the sun had lit up her face. For a moment, she did look beautiful. The clouds then returned, but not as dark.
“You should do that more often.” I remarked.
She laughed a bit more and went back to contemplating her coffee, but Cath now wore a small smile. Her shoulder-length brown hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and she wore 1950’s style black winged frame glasses. She wore a loose grey hoodie and grey tracksuit pants. To me, it looked like Cath was trying to blend into the background. She turned slightly and asked how I was enjoying karate.
“Pretty good. I can now do 10 push-ups without collapsing. Haven’t lost any weight but lost a couple of inches canlı bahis around my middle.” I replied. “And you?”
She nodded slowly “It’s good. Been a long time since I’ve been able to get out and socialise. Well, sort of socialise.”
“Because of Zac?” I asked.
“Partly,” she replied but didn’t elaborate. I didn’t push it. We finished our coffee and got up. “Thanks again. It’s good to get out and talk to people.” Cath said. “Would you like to catch up the same time next week?”
“Sure,” I said and waved my finger at her. “But I’ll see you later at training.”
Cath smiled brightly. “I look forward to kicking your arse.”
“And I look forward to you trying,” I replied.
This became a regular thing. Not a lot of chat, just sitting, drinking coffee, and watching the world go by for about a half hour. I did learn that she was trained as a journalist but had to go freelance when Zac came along. It had given her more time at home with him before he went to school. Cath was thinking about going back full time but was ok with things at the moment. She was getting enough work to get by reasonably well.
One day she looked at me thoughtfully and commented “We really still don’t know that much about each other. When I was studying journalism we had to do this Q&A session with a partner in class. The first person asked a question, the other must give a reply that couldn’t be a one-word yes/no or similar answer, the first asks a follow-up question, and the second gives their reply. And that’s it for that topic. You can’t ask another question about it.” Cathy explained that it was to get you to think carefully about a question, and also the reply. “It was a good thing at parties. There were some very… interesting responses. But you have to tell the truth.”
I shrugged, “I’m game if you are. I don’t think my life is all that interesting.”
We started. It was actually fun trying to carefully frame a question or an answer. The initial questions were fairly bland – where did we grow up, why did we move here, favourite animals, that sort of thing. After a couple of weeks, the questions started to get more personal. I asked where Zac’s dad was.
Cath got a hard look on her face and growled: “Bastard’s on an oil rig somewhere I think.”
My unthinking follow-up question was “Why’d he leave?”
Her reply – “I broke his jaw.”
I looked at her and opened and closed my mouth like a goldfish. I wanted to say something, but she just had this really black look on her face. And that was it for the day.
The next night Cathy trained like she was possessed. I think I inadvertently opened a deep wound again. Whatever had gone on between her and Zac’s dad had hurt, and she was taking it out in the Dojo. After class, I drew her to one side and quietly asked if she was ok.
Cath looked down “No, not really.” She looked at me “I need to tell someone what happened. It’s been boiling inside of me for years but there’s never been anyone I can talk to.”
I reached out and put a hand on her shoulder “Well, I’m here. If you want it kept quiet, I’m very good at keeping secrets. Goes with my job. I deal a lot in contract negotiations…”
Cathy looked at the ceiling, looked at me, looked at the floor again. She sighed. “That would be great. It’s not a coffee talk though. There’s also something you need to see, but it’s not good. I don’t want you to think badly of me after you see it, but I’m afraid you will.”
I didn’t know what could be so bad but I replied “I promise I won’t judge you. Whatever it is. Scout’s honour.” I gave the appropriate three finger salute and opened my phone’s calendar. I had a few spots that I was free throughout the week, so we arranged a time to meet at her house. I just booked out the time as a new client meeting.
A couple of days later I knocked on Cathy’s door. With coffee. She opened the door dressed as per usual but with her hair down. It really helped lift her look. She didn’t look so stern.
“Good morning Cathy,” I said cheerily, “I know you said it wasn’t a coffee talk, but I think better with caffeine.”
She smiled and waved me in “You know me well. Thanks.”
I followed her to the lounge room and looked around. It was a fairly old but well-built house, probably 12-foot ceilings, wooden floorboards with rugs, and suitably aged furniture. I sat down in an oversized leather winged chair and Cath sat in a similar chair opposite.
“This is difficult for me.” Cath said quietly “It’s really personal, and well, pretty disgusting. But I have to tell someone. I need to tell someone, but if I tell you, you have to promise to just let me talk. And you can’t tell anyone. And I mean anyone. Not even Bec.” She started to cry.
I leaned across and held her hands. “Look, I promised to not say anything, and I’ll keep that promise. If you want, I’ll tell you something that I haven’t told anyone. Especially Rebecca. In great detail, if you want. That way we’ll hold each other’s bahis siteleri secret forever. Ok?”
Cath pushed her glasses up, wiped her eyes and sniffed “Thanks, but you don’t have to.”
I said, “Well, I’ll keep it for another day. Just ask if you want to hear it.”
As a reply, Cath took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. She started to talk. “I don’t know for sure who’s Zac’s dad. It’s one of seven guys that had sex with me one day.” She looked at me for a reaction.
I stared impassively back, but in my mind, I was thinking “What the fuck???” I wasn’t expecting that for an opening line. Seeing no reaction from me seemed to give Cathy the courage to continue.
Cathy was a bit of a loner at high school. Not through choice. People said she was built like a brick shithouse. She was taller and more solid than most of her classmates, including the boys. Swimming and English were where she excelled. By the time she was 18, she had the outlines of a female figure but no one really noticed. Cath had decided that journalism was probably a good career for her and thought a clean break to a University in another state would change things personally.
Cathy didn’t know anyone in her new town, which she also thought was a good thing. She got a room on campus and threw herself into her Journalism degree. She joined a couple of clubs and generally was accepted by her classmates. Cath was fairly happy with her social life. Guys in her class were friendly, but no one asked her out. That was her only disappointment. She heard via the Uni grapevine that they thought she was a lesbian, solely because of her looks. She didn’t know how to react to that. Girls also seemed to be intimidated by her size, so nothing that way either. Not that she was particularly interested in women, but it would have been nice to have been asked.
One day in her last year she was invited to a classmate’s friend of a friend’s 25th fancy dress birthday party. Normally she’d stay away from that sort of party, but she thought she may as well go. Cathy was determined to make a lasting final impression, so she decided that the slutty schoolgirl look would change people’s opinion of her. She went literally all out. Red high top sneakers, knee-high white socks, a really short skirt, G-string, and a short-sleeved thin white shirt tied up at the midriff. Oh, and no bra. Cath chose the shirt deliberately to make that point.
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I hadn’t really thought of Cathy in a sexual way before, but the way she was describing herself had me thinking again. Something was growing down below.
Cathy saw me shift and remarked, “Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?”
“No,” I lied “Bit stiff in the lower back.”
She nodded and took a sip of coffee. “Yeah, these chairs aren’t the best.” She looked at me “I’m not boring you, am I?”
“Not at all Cath.” I honestly replied.
She caught a taxi to the party but had a jacket over her shirt. When Cath got there the jacket and her handbag went onto a pile of others, and she drew some admiring looks from guys. That was nice. The birthday boy, Damien, insisted on giving her a long hug and had a hard time trying to keep his eyes on her face to thank her for coming. Cath didn’t mind the attention at all. It had been pretty scarce over the years, and it felt nice. She gave Damo, as he liked to be called, a peck on the cheek, and went off to get one of her wine coolers.
She had a good time. Talked to a few people from Uni, danced with some guys. And girls. Got her smallish boobies bouncing, which attracted a fair bit of attention. Won the wet t-shirt contest that apparently was in Damo’s honour. He got to spray all the girls with water and did a close inspection of their assets. Cathy thought she won because not only did she undo her shirt for a better assessment, but it was pretty obvious she shaved everywhere.
She laughed. “I got into the habit when I was swimming competitively. Legs, underarms, pussy hair, all gone. I managed to lose my underwear just before the competition. Funny about that. I guess I must have flashed my bits as I was dancing.”
Damien gave her another long hug and had a feel of her tits for winning. He announced that the prize was a pint mug of a cocktail he created. She thought he called it a “Log Splitter”. The catch was she had to down the entire pint glass in one hit.
Damo went inside to mix the ingredients. Cath sat down. Her head was spinning. She wasn’t much of a drinker, and the six wine coolers were starting to hit home. She leaned back and closed her eyes to try and stop the spinning.
“Here, puss, puss, puss!” she heard Damo say. She sat up and opened her eyes to see him and a few other guys looking at her vaj. Her skirt had ridden up and she had spread herself wide for all to see. She sat bolt upright, crossing her legs and pulled her skirt down as far as it would go.
“Bit bahis şirketleri late for that,” Damo smirked. “You should be proud of it. It looks fantastic.”
Cath blushed big time. It was the first time a guy had seen her naked pussy, and in front of an audience too…
He handed her the drink. “Here you go. Down the hatch!”
She sniffed the concoction, but could only smell orange and pineapple juice. One deep breath, an internal “Here’s to being popular!” and she drank with the party yelling “Skol, Skol Skol!”. It hit her like a hammer. “Oh wow!” Cath slurred “That’s some drink.” She tried to look at her fingers but her eyes couldn’t focus on them. “Fuck. This was a bad idea.” a voice in her head was saying. Cath tried to nod, but things were spinning too fast to concentrate. She uncrossed her legs and sat back to an appreciative round of applause and whistles. Cathy gave them a little wave. “Oh, this is really bad.” she thought. As the drink hit home the idea of being nearly naked in front of a crowd bothered her less. A small part of her brain was still unaffected and it tried to hold onto the thought that this wasn’t normal. The drink wasn’t normal. Whatever was going to happen next wasn’t normal. Then that final area succumbed to the drink.
Damien smirked, “It’s not called the leg splitter for nothing!”
“Oh.” thought Cathy blearily “Leg splitter. That makes more sense.”
Damo sat down beside her. Her shirt was loosely tied at the front, and her boobs were roaming free. He started to chat with her, but his eyes never left her tits. She had no idea what they talked about. Things just spun around and around and around. Someone got her a large glass of water, and eventually, the world stopped moving too much. Damo had one arm around her waist and was running his other hand up and down her inner thigh.
Cath tried to focus on what he was saying. It was something like he’s had a great party so far, and would she like to make it even better? His hand inched higher up her leg, and it was pretty obvious to her what he wanted, even in her wasted state.
She was trying to think of what to say when his fingers touched her high up between her legs. It was like an electric shock had fired up her body, and it started to work on automatic. Her legs seemed to snap open all by themselves, and Damien took this as an invitation to slide a finger inside her. Cathy just let out a little sigh.
Cathy stopped talking and looked up at me. ” I suppose you think I’m a bit of a slut?” she said sadly.
I didn’t know what to think. Cath had painted a pretty vivid picture of the night, probably because of her journalism background. It’s hard to put yourself in someone else’s situation, and I’ve learnt over the years that life isn’t simple. I’d certainly done things that would be judged harshly by others without knowing the full story. Having sex with my niece, for instance. I scratched my chin and said diplomatically “Well, we’ve all made choices that may not have been great when you look back at them.”
She gave a sad laugh. “Yeah, I guess. Would you like another coffee?”
“Always,” I replied. I followed her out to the kitchen. It was a pretty big house for two people. I asked if it was just her and Zac that lived here.
Cath replied that her mum and dad used to live here with them, but when her dad died about five years ago, her mum moved to a retirement home where she could be near her friends and medical care if needed. Cath thought it was also to give Zac and herself some space, which she was grateful for.
In the kitchen, she started up the espresso machine. It was a ritual she apparently enjoyed. “Nothing worse than instant coffee,” she explained. “Do you want to see my training room while it warms up?”
“Sure,” I replied. Cathy hadn’t said a word about what she had said earlier. I thought it best to leave it until she wanted to talk. To be honest my head was reeling. I did know that I wanted to see her naked – just to confirm the image in my head. Nothing sexual, I lied to myself. I followed her into another room.
“And this is it!” she waved her hand to a large room with polished wooden floorboards, mirrors along one wall, big windows and various pieces of gym equipment in one end.
“Wow!” I said, looking around. “This is amazing!”
“Yep,” she said proudly. “Apparently it was a music and dance room when the house was built, then a billiard room. When I started seriously swimming competitively dad turned it into a gym. I was ten. He thought I’d be in the Olympics. Never got past the Nationals.” She walked over to the side of the room and opened the french doors overlooking the garden. “I love it. Just looking out here is really soothing.”
I looked closely at the wooden floor and twisted my foot on it. “Beats my house. I don’t have enough room to swing a cat, never mind a decent roundhouse kick. Best I can do in the house is push-ups.”
Cathy smiled warmly. It was good to see. “I’m pretty lucky I guess.” She looked at me with her head slightly tilted. “You’re welcome to train here if you want to get a bit extra in. Rebecca can come along as well. Zac really wants to show her his Pokémon collection.”
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