'But I don't have a job.'
That really cracked her up. Then she settled down and asked me point-blank: 'Say, how long have you been a whore anyway?'
She might as well have slugged me in the jaw. Reeling with embarrassment, I got up and went to the furthest point in the room away from her.
I was still cowering in the corner an hour later when Don finally showed up. I was such a mess that he didn't even recognize me until the desk sergeant led him to me.
'What happened to you?' he gasped in astonishment.
I ran to him and held on for dear life. When he repeated his question, I took a deep breath and told him I had been raped.
Immediately I could feel him flinch. Instead of the reassuring hug and kiss I expected, I was pushed away to arm's length.
'Didn't they tell you?' I sobbed.
'No, no,' he muttered incredulously. 'What were you doing – how could such a thing have happened?'
I tried to tell him about the car breaking down, but I just couldn't seem to make sense. Finally I sank to the floor, unable to support my own weight any longer in my anguish.
Don didn't know what to do. He stood looking down at me with disbelief etched in his face until we were interrupted by one of the cops who had picked me up.
'Hey, mister, you better get her out of here,' he said. 'There's nothing more we can do for her.'
Then he went on to explain that there was no need to make any sort of official report. 'The paper-work would just be a waste of time,' he breezily maintained. 'The guy got away, so what's the point. If me and my partner stay late to fill out all the forms if she makes an official complaint, we'll just have to take it off in overtime when we could be out on the streets looking for the guy who did it to her. Don't worry, if you don't interfere with police methods, we'll have a better chance of catching the bastard.'
On the way home, I sensed that Don wanted a distance between us, so I kept as far away from him as possible. We didn't speak a word to one another throughout the ride.
In the days that followed, the distance continued. Only now it was a lot more significant than just the space of the front seat of a car. Even though the rape was never mentioned, it was like a ten foot wall between us.
Our sex life had been a steady twice a week thing. But now it dropped to zero. Even though we slept in the same bed, we never touched. Then one night I woke up about three in the morning and discovered that things had deteriorated even beyond that – I was alone in bed. When I went into the living room, I discovered Don sleeping on the couch.
'Which one would you recommend?' I asked after I'd inspected several examples.
She looked at me kind of funny. It was almost as though she were more interested in reading my mind than in selling me brushes.
Her blue eyes met mine and seemed to peer into my soul. Despite my sudden uneasiness, I couldn't look away.
She was the hone who finally broke the gaze. Reaching into the sample case, she picked up a brush and said without conviction, 'This is a nice one.'
Anxious for something to do that would relieve the tension I felt, I began brushing my hair. However, my hand was shaking so much that the brush fell to the floor.
'Here,' she said, reaching down to pick it up, 'let me do it for you.'
As she leaned over, I found myself inadvertently looking down the front of the scooped neckline of her summer blouse. She wasn't wearing a bra, and for an instant I could actually see her nipples.
'Is there something wrong?' she asked when she caught my roving eye.
'No, nothing, nothing,' I protested a little too much.
She smiled in reply and then got up, walked behind me, and began brushing my hair. As I felt the stiff bristles massaging my scalp, I wondered what she was thinking.
'You have beautiful hair, Mary,' she said.
'Thank you,' I answered. However, although it was the first compliment I'd received since the rape, my mind was elsewhere. It had returned to the image of Ann's firm breasts and nipples.
Then, as if on cue, she came around in front of me so I could see how her loose tits jiggled under her thin blouse. The nipples were pointing through the fabric. I couldn't take my eyes off them.
Her strokes with the brush became longer and longer. Since my hair was down to my shoulders, the bristles were touching my neck and arms on the down sweep. They tickled, and pretty soon it seemed like she was doing it on purpose.
'Feel good?' she asked.
'Yes,' I admitted.
'Good,' she whispered huskily. Then, continuing to stroke, she bent over so I had a perfect view down the scoop of her neckline. Suddenly I could see her nipples again, and this time it wasn't for just an instant.
Her breasts seemed perfect. So completely feminine. I started to wonder if she had a man in her life who ran his rough hands over them.
'Are you married, Ann?' I impulsively blurted.
'No,' she answered tersely, continuing to brush my hair and show her tits.
'Do you have a boyfriend?'
'No.'
'But you're such a beautiful girl,' I tried to make some sense out of my rudeness. 'Surely…'
Just like that she stopped brushing my hair and walked away, taking the sight of her gorgeous breasts away from me. I was certain I had offended her.
There was a long pause. If she was upset I didn't know how I would handle it.
'Mary,' she finally said, comforting me somewhat by continuing to use my first name.
'Yes?' I responded anxiously. 'Can I trust you?'
'Of course.'
She looked at me long and hard as though she were making a final evaluation of my trustworthiness.
'I'm a lesbian,' she said.
My gasp was audible. I'd heard and read about women like this, of course, but had never actually met one.
'Are you shocked?' she smiled. 'No,' I lied.
'Yes, you are,' she said, but there was no bitterness in her accusation. 'I knew you would be, but I decided to tell you anyway. You know why?'
I dumbly shook my head.
'Because I saw the way you were looking at my tits. I was hoping that if I told you the truth, maybe you'd want to touch them. Play with them.'
'You mean, make love to you?'
'Yes.'
Before I could think of what to do or say next, she took the initiative. Suddenly the blouse was off and her bare breasts were bobbing only a few feet in front of me.
She came even closer and took my hand. Suddenly my palm was rubbing one of her nipples and then the other. I found myself panting with excitement.
'Does feeling my tits make your pussy wet?' she asked.
Automatically I pressed my thighs together. They were wet and sticky.
'Yes,' I admitted. 'It's running down my legs.'
'Me, too,' she grinned. 'I've been horny ever since I first noticed you looking down my blouse. I was hoping you'd feel the same way.'
She eased down, sitting on my lap. While I continued fondling her tits, she began unbuttoning my blouse. When she reached around and unhooked my bra, I was naked from the waist up.
'Mmmmm,' she cooed, 'your nipples are like spikes. Can I suck them?'
As though she had me hypnotized, I said yes. Dropping her head to my chest, she closed her mouth over one of the turgid nipples and began touching it. Between my legs, I could feel my pussy beginning to gush instead
