Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
My heart beat ever faster and I felt light-headed. Dolly didn’t seem to notice, though, even offering to drive my car, which had once belonged to my father but now was mine.
She drove us to a bar, and though neither of us were of legal drinking age, no one there seemed to care. I was thankful for the low lighting, hoping that it hid my flushed skin and the blotches that had surely formed on my neck, as they tended to do when I became anxious or worked up. Dolly ordered a beer and I did, too, and though I had never really drunk alcohol other than to try it from the stash Father had kept in our kitchen cupboard, I found the effects were just what I needed to calm my system.
I drank one, then two, and ordered a third. But I was far outmatched in the drinking arena, and Dolly not only quickly surpassed the number of beers I’d had but was also doing shots with a guy at the bar each time she placed another order. Pretty soon, her eyes were red and half-closed, and her words were slurring together. “Dance with me!” she insisted, pulling me out onto the mostly empty dance floor and pressing herself against me. Despite the alcohol in my system, my breath came short again, sweat breaking out on my brow. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her breasts large, soft pillows against my chest, and I grew hard. Dolly, obviously feeling my arousal, purred, sloppily grinding her body against mine. At her brazen touch, the anxiety poured through me like battery acid, but I forced myself not to step back, out of her grasp. She stumbled slightly, missing a step, and then laughed, falling against me and saying, “Take me home, baby.”
I was so aroused it hurt at that point. So I let her lead me out the door to the car, where I took the wheel, and she turned up the music, blasting it so loud I couldn’t hear my own thoughts and leaning perilously out the window so that I had to grab the back hem of her shirt to keep her from falling out.
Her apartment was only a few blocks from the bar, and surprisingly, she was able to direct me there, or rather yell “Stop!” when she saw it so that I screeched to a halt at the curb.
The alcohol was wearing off at this point, and my nerves had returned in full force. And not only nerves but doubt and a good dose of disgust toward her, even if my body hadn’t yet gotten the memo, the bulge in my pants pumping with blood. I haltingly followed her up the steps to her door, and she pulled me inside before slamming it behind us. She must have been unbuttoning her shirt as she climbed the steps because when she turned, it was open, and she dropped it on the floor, unclasping her bra, which fell apart, revealing two huge, round knockers, skin pulled tight, nipples pale red and seemingly too small for the breasts they inhabited. She sprang forward, planting her mouth on mine, her tongue wet and slimy as she pushed it into my mouth, her hand clasping my erection.
It was sudden and overwhelming, and vomit came rushing up my throat. I pushed her away harshly, clapping my hand over my mouth. Dolly tripped backward, catching herself on a piece of furniture, pink spots blossoming on her pale cheeks as she gritted her teeth and raised her finger, pointing it at me.
“What the fucksh is wrong with yoush anyway?” she demanded, the words slurred. “What? Are yoush a pussy? Is that it, pussy?” Rage blossomed inside me then, as sudden as the sickness that had come over me at her force and the unexpectedness of my body being invaded by hers.
It was disgusting and vile and I hadn’t asked for that.
I stepped forward, pushing her so that she fell to the side, sprawling on the floor, half-naked and bent awkwardly. “Fucksh yoush!” she yelled, attempting to get up but falling back again, her heavy breasts impeding her ability to balance. I laughed then, a maniacal sound that exploded from my throat. The sound seemed to enrage her further, and she continued to flop around like a top-heavy seal, floundering clownishly.
I spotted a checkerboard sitting to the side of the couch and grabbed a handful of checkers, tossing them at her and watching as they bounced off her forehead and she flailed some more, her tits flopping from one side to the other, a roll of pasty flab jiggling over the waistband of her skirt as she slurred epithets at me.
“Do you like games, Dolly?” I yelled. “You like playing your sick, twisted power games with men like me you think you can trample on? Fuck you, Dolly.”