- Holting It All In
Date: Monday, May 29, 2000 6:46 PM
- sue hantak <firstname.lastname@example.org>
(I was working on this story when the confession challenge
was issued. I had another story in mind for that, and wasn't
sure where this one was going at the time. Since it involves
a confession of sorts, I held it until others had their chance
to complete their assignments. I hope no one minds that I am
turning it in as a confession story even though it may not strictly
fit into the original guidelines)
HOLTING IT ALL IN
They call it date rape now. Their was no buzz word for it back
then. Now there is an awareness; the topic has been Oprahfied.
When it happened to her it was a common assumption that if you
invited a man into your home, "you must have been asking
At times like now, when he is on top, moving with a pulsating
vigor, she is reminded of that fateful night. An innocuous invitation
for coffee was woefully misconstrued. It seemed the more she
said no, the more he was convinced she was teasing. She opened
her eyes to reaffirm that he is not HIM and this is so different
from THAT. However, she felt trapped, panicked, and unsuccessfully
tried to beg him off. Every time she began to pant, "Please"
he took it to mean "more." He drove relentlessly into
her, his intensity mounting into something she could not stop.
Desperately needing this to end, she changed strategies and began
"cheering him on" . An insincere , "Oh yes........
God....... yes!" combined with deft muscle control promoted
his own climax. She was silently thankful when he finally rolled
to his side. With his right arm still draped across her body
in a possessive manner, she reminded herself that having sex
and making love are two entirely different things. Unswayed by
her own reasoning, she smiled unconvincingly at him and calmly
extracted herself from his embrace. The bathroom was her refuge.
There she splashed cold water on her face. That, however, wasn't
sufficient. She turned on the shower valve in an attempt to wash
away her distress.
He knew something was wrong. Her Meg Ryan orgasm didn't fool
him. They had only been lovers a short while. Fourteen times,
if they were keeping count . Had he hurt her? They certainly
had more raucous and frenzied instances. Did he force himself
on her? She actually was the one who dragged him into the apartment
by his tie seizing him first on the sofa before consummating
the final act on the bed. She had excused herself to the bathroom
before. He surmised it was to "clean up a bit," but
this time he heard the soft click of the lock indicating a retreat.
She locked the door purposely. Who else was she keeping out but
him? The shower subsided and she returned to the bed wearing
a tee shirt and panties. He felt like a callous boar, but what
he did was still a mystery to him. Feigning sleep, he lay waiting
for her to give him a clue.
She leaned over him, pressed her lips to his cheek with a perfunctory
"good night" and rolled to her side with her back to
him. She reassured herself with a slow and steady breath. A stuttering
sigh let it slip that she had been crying. It occurred to her
that telling him about it might ease her pain, but why burden
him with all her baggage? . It was the first time she thought
about that event in a long time. The nightmares ended. Fleeting,
painful memories only resurfaced as she lay submissive underneath
him. She convinced herself that she would not allow that bastard
to ruin what she has now. Telling him might only give him the
impression she dislikes being intimate with him. Nothing could
be further from the truth. He was the reason she could do it
The next morning she awoke determined to return everything back
to normal. She laughed at herself and reasoned that last night
was just hormonal or something. Her subconscious was still troubled
by it though. He was lying on his stomach, arms hugging the pillow
that supported his head. Part of her wondered if he knew something
was amiss. Other times they slept in each other's embrace. She
was desperate to replace her tainted memories of making love
with new ones. She straddled his body, her rear resting on the
back of his thighs, and ran her hands up and down his bare back
. Her hands pulled the covers down to expose his magnificent
backside. She alternated her tease from rubbing to light tickles
to torturous nibbling. He shifted involuntarily. Lying prone
wasn't very comfortable in his aroused state. He rotated his
body and ran his hands up under her top. She reached down to
the hem of her tee shirt and started to pull it off. He quickly
withdrew his hands, placed them atop hers and protested, "Leave
Perplexed, she joked, "This is easier without clothes."
"But it's incredibly sexy this way too" His hands went
to her panties. Instead of stripping them off, however, one hand
stretched the elastic crotch aside. The other spread her and
with precision, he slipped his hardened member in. His hands
returned to her upper body hidden by her clothing. He spoke in
beat with each the thrust,
"Do you know.................... how much.................
I've fantasized ...............about doing it .............like
this.......... ........with you..................still clothed?"
unwittingly, he described the rape incident.
Repulsed by his statement, she scurried off him. Before she could
completely escape, he grabbed her. Again, unaware that *he* physically
restrained her during the act. She wrestled her arm from his
"Let go of me," she threatened, with a tone and intensity
that frightened him.
"What did I do?" he questioned, obviously at a loss
over what just transpired. She sat on the edge of the bed with
her feet hanging over the side. "Oh god, I'm so sorry,"
she spoke softly. Her hands covered her face, embarrassed and
Without a word she got up from the bed, donned a robe and made
her way to the kitchen. He slipped on a pair of boxers and followed
her. He stood behind her as she slammed about the kitchen, turning
the simple task of making coffee into a major undertaking. Twice
he opened his mouth to say something, but held his tongue fearful
it would have been the wrong thing.
Almost as if she were reading his mind she turned to face him,
"Just say it."
"Tell me how I disappointed you.......that I'm a tease....that
I need to have my head examined."
"That wasn't what I was thinking," Truthfully he was
disappointed. "What just happened in there?"
She tried to a more chipper approach, "I just realized how
late it was, we can't dally all day, I have work to do."
"You're upset about something............... admit it.....................Tell
me what I've done," he pleaded
"I've dealt with this for six years just fine, you need
not concern yourself." She turned her attention again to
the coffee maker.
"Dealt with what for six years?". He gingerly put his
arms around her and kissed the back of head just behind her ear.
He whispered, "What is it?.....Please tell me." Another
kiss assured her. His chin rested on her shoulder waiting for
"Nothing" she patted his forearm, "just nothing."
"Are you lying to me or to yourself as well?" he snapped
back with some annoyance.
"It has nothing to do with you.... It happened a long time
ago.......I' m better now."
"Did someone hurt you?" he held her tighter.
" It was an unfortunate misunderstanding," She sighed
heavily at the understatement.
"What sort of misunderstanding?" He loosened his grasp.
A sick, uneasy feeling instinctively told him what she was referring
"I went on a date with this guy and when he brought me home,
he was all over me."
"You mean he .........." unable to come up with an
alternate word, he apprehensively asked, "...raped you?"
Her silence and labored breath gave him his answer.
"Oh dear God........ why didn't you ever tell me?"
"I didn't want you to treat me like some pathetic victim........
I was afraid you would be too cautious and it would define our
"But last night was different..............why last night
and not any other times?"
"I don't know ............I just felt claustrophobic......helpless.........then
it was like it was him on top of me instead of you."
"I would never do that to you."
"I know.......I know." She tugged on his arm to return
him to his comforting position behind her.
His right arm curved around her waist bent upward toward her
chest. He angled his left arm downward to rest against her hip.
He felt compelled to hold her completely. She began to sob. He
pressed small kisses again down her neck.
"Shhhhh it's alright" he languidly caressed her.
She became keenly aware of his touch. A whirlwind of confusion
churned within her. Embarrassment, shame, anger, and sadness
combined with relief, security, desire, and affection for the
man behind her. She covered his arms with her own to halt his
Aware of his own repressed need, and the fact he was about to
lose control, he quietly asked, "Are you okay with me holding
you like this?"
"You have no idea how much I wish I could say yes."
An apologetic expression prefaced what she was about to say,
"But, I just can't be with you right now."
He allowed her some space. Two days' worth of strictly business
interaction actually didn't benefit either of them. Like an infection,
the longer it went untreated the more damaging it became. The
thought that someone violated her made him ill. She didn't even
tell him anything more specific than it was a misunderstanding
and he was all over her. Part of him needed to know the details
of what happened to her. They couldn't be any worse than what
he already imagined.
She construed his detachment as a personal condemnation. She
reasoned that he must think she's 'damaged goods.' They were
both on edge and short-tempered. On the afternoon of the third
day, a minor disagreement erupted into a major brouhaha. Agitated,
she went to the bathroom to get some aspirin. After washing it
down, she placed the drinking glass on the counter a little too
emphatically, shattering it.
He heard the smash from his office and from the doorway saw her
hand bleeding into the sink.
She reached awkwardly for a towel, swearing. He grabbed the towel
and tenderly applied pressure to her palm.
"Let me see," he took her hand, lifted the towel, "I
won't hurt you." They looked into each other's eyes both
recognizing the deeper meaning of what he said. He applied a
healing kiss to her palm and replaced the towel on her wound.
While still holding her close he bent down for a tentative kiss.
After two-plus days of restraint, a minor kiss erupted into a
passionate lock . He whispered, "Plenty of time for this
later, let's get you to a doctor."
Several hours later they returned to his apartment. She proceeded
him through the door, "Eight stitches doesn't make me an
invalid, you know. I could have gone home."
"I know, but you may need help with buttoning............or
unbuttoning, " he cringed realizing what he just implied.
"..............Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you"
"You see.......that's EXACTLY why I didn't want to tell
you........you're treating me differently."
"Actually you didn't really TELL me much........I believe
you called it an unfortunate misunderstanding."
"I'm not very comfortable talking about it."
"You won't even tell me?" he challenged
"Wha................Me?................Wha?." he couldn't
believe what he was hearing. He took a deep breath and tried
again, "You talk a good game...... always giving me the
lecture about trust, and honesty, and ...........and commitment,
but when it's your turn, you hide behind 'I'm-not-comfortable-talking-
" You want to know all the gory details?" she taunted.
He nodded .
"Fine," fuming from his accusation, she crossed her
arms and paced across the room. "It was summer, I was wearing
a sundress......... no hose," she clarified. "We went
to a wine festival. We were both a little tipsy, I invited him
in for some coffee. We kissed in the kitchen while the coffee
brewed. I said something about being hot and wanting to change
out of my dress. I guess he got the wrong impression." She
stopped as if that were the end of it.
He cast a impatient look in her direction. "And....."
"I think you can fill in the rest."
He was well past impatient by now. In a exasperated plea, he
nearly shouted, "That's all I've been doing for three days.....My
God...... I have imagined that prick doing unspeakable things
to you................I've been out of my mind.......................
I need to know what actually happened."
"Maybe I don't remember that part."
"Don't swear at me."
"Sunday night?, Monday morning? You remembered SOMETHING
while we were in bed."
"I knew it! I knew you would hold that against me."
He hurt her with that last remark. After four years of bickering,
quarrels, and heated disputes, he became quite adept at reading
her emotions while they were arguing.
"You're right, you're right, that was unfair.....................I
just don't want to do.........whatever I did......"
"It wasn't anything you did...............................you're
making too much out of it."
"Did he hit you?"
"No he didn't hit me...............you're not going to let
this drop, are you?"
"If you would just tell me, I'll never bring it up again."
"Okay.......... he followed me into my bedroom. I asked
him to get out so I could change. I turned around and he had
unzipped his pants. He made some crude remark about helping me
change. I was pushed back on the bed. He laid on top of me......
........are you sure you want to hear this?"
Again he nodded.
"He pinned me on the bed. I couldn't move. He was about
six-one, weighed 200 pounds. He pushed my dress up, tore my underwear
and ......"she glanced at him sitting in the chair looking
ill at ease. She decided that was enough details for both of
them, "A few times.........He was done.....It all happened
"Did you call the police?"
"I had a friend in the department. She said given the wine,
my invitation, no visible trauma, it would be hard to prove rape.
She also said the victim usually gets raked over the coals which
does more damage than the actual attack. She advised me to get
"No, I thought I could handle it by myself."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" he replied rather sarcastically.
"Was the other night the only time you've thought about
"Sometimes I'd get a whiff of someone wearing the same cologne
or I'd see a similar pattern of a man's shirt.......... I couldn't
sleep in my bed for months. "
She knew he was referring to his own aggressiveness. He was worried
that she thought he was an inconsiderate, selfish asshole like
the other guy. "When I'm with you, I am a WILLING participant.
Hell, I think I've even attacked you on a few occasions."
A huge grin lit up his face.
She sat on his lap in the chair. "I don't want this to change
anything between us. Please forget what I said the other morning,
I want to be with you." To prove her point, she reached
out with her 'good' hand and began to unbutton his shirt.
He put his hand over hers "Unbuttoning is my job" One
by one his buttons separated exposing his skin. She reached out
to run her fingers through the hair on his chest as their lips
met in the space between them. He undid the cuffs and shook the
garment free of his body. His hands moved to cradle her jaw,
never breaking the kiss. His left hand slipped around to her
back. She shivered from his touch. She leaned into him as his
actions continued to elicit involuntarily moans and movement.
Afraid he may be advancing too quickly, he moved both hands to
her head and pulled back from the kiss. He looked at her intently,
"Are you sure?"
"I took self-defense classes after it happened. If I wanted
you to stop, believe me, you'd get the message."
She stood from the chair and walked toward the bedroom. A few
steps from the door, she turned, raised her bandaged hand as
a reminder, "I could use some help unbuttoning."