Recently I had a conversation with someone about rape. This is not about the conversation, but about a memory that was stirred deep inside me. A memory that is still a bit vague, but which I suspect will become somewhat clearer as I write this.
Way back, when I was in university I had a couple of months where I almost got on the wrong track of life. I got to know a couple of students that lived together in a big house. Only men lived there and they always had a lot of booze, little to eat and they did not follow all the classes they should. The house they lived in was not furnished the way a house should be. They slept on mattresses on the floor and sat on very old couches. There were always women in the house too and sounds of people having sex could frequently be heard.
Even though these men did all that was forbidden, they also did one good thing. During one of the university holidays they made several long trips for charity, where they helped the less fortunate in the country. The trips went in several directions and all of them always ended with a huge party in a seaside village, before the students returned home, back to the university to start their classes again.
I cannot remember at all how I met this group of students. What I do remember is that I had a crush on the organizer of the trips. I wanted nothing more than to go on one of the trips only so I could be close to him. I visited the students’ house quite a couple of times, but never once did he touch me. I would have thrown myself in front of his feet if only he had made one move towards me. But he never did. You know, I cannot even remember who joined us on that trip. I know there were more people around, but really cannot remember who they were.
What I do remember – and this is not what this story is about – that we were close to our end destination when at last he and I ended up in the same bed. The sexual tension had been building up during our trip down and after a couple of days he at last noticed me. That’s how it felt then, but looking back on it now he might just have been horny and decided to fuck me since I was available and almost throwing myself at him anyway. I was too smitten back then to realize this! What I clearly remember is the disappointment after we have slept together. His cock was so thin that I actually asked him whether he was in me. Maybe that’s why he fucked me only once?
By the time we got to the end destination where the big party would be, I had only one desire. I wanted to go home. Not being a party animal, I was quickly bored with all the students and their drunken laughter and stupid jokes. I have always been more mature than my age peers and even though I was busy with a study too, I was already in the next phase of my private life. I had responsibilities I had to go home to every evening; they could party all night if they wanted to. Being on this trip away from home I could party all through the night too, but I was just not in the mood for it. This man I had the crush on when we started on the trip was not interesting anymore and I could just not wait to go home the next day.
At the party I was introduced to lots of other students. There were boasting males, arrogant males and females and common females. As soon as I could, I left the party and went to the Combi bus where I was going to sleep that night. The back of the bus had been transformed to a bed with two mattresses. The only place where I could stand was between the front seats and the first bench in the back. I knew that my travel companion was going to join me in the bus, since he told me that earlier. I locked the door once I was inside the bus, took my jeans off and crawled in under the blankets, still wearing my panties, bra and my T-shirt. Despite the loud music coming from the house, I drifted off to sleep.
To be continued… Rape??? (Part 2 of 2)
© Rebel’s Notes