Forbidden Pleasure: Sex, Secrets & Scandal

RAIN AND WILD IMAGINATION

Leona:

I am Eighteen today.

Finally.

I stared at myself in the mirror in the bathroom, as I grazed my soft fingers on my bare skin, just beneath the towel that was wrapped low covering my breast. I was finally a woman, or so, as I still felt incomplete.

My friend, Cassie, would say that when we turn eighteen that's when you'll want things. Feel things. Cassie was always naughty even before she turned eighteen it was one thing I liked about her that I didn't have. Her exposure to naughty things. She was always talking wild, whispering about stuffs she did with her crush whenever she hanged out with them, how they would finger her till she cum more especially... Sex.

I always carved to experience it but I felt guys took me to be a minor and I made me burn inside. Jealous maybe.

I slowly let loose of my towel as it fell on the floor as I took a full look of my body at the mirror. Before my memory could collect I found myself looking at the soft curve of my breast. I touched the side, slowly, and I couldn't tell how i felt. It was soft. Sensitive. When I brushed my thumb over my pink nipple, I saw it stiffen as I felt tingles down my pussy. I wondered what it’d feel like if someone else touched it. A boy. A man. Did it feel dirty? Good? Wrong? Or all of it at once?

Rubbing my belly I led my two fingers down my clit. Feeling the wetness as I felt a little noise slipped from my mouth. I didn't mean to make it.

I was alone. I should've been safe. I could touch if I wanted to.

Then I heard BANG.

I jumped so hard I knocked over the toothbrush cup. It hit the floor with a clatter.

“Leona!” His voice. Thick, dragging across the walls. Slurred like he’d poured the bottle down his throat on the way home. “Open this goddamn door!”

Panic punched the air out of my lungs.

He was home. My adopted father.

Drunk. As usual.

I pressed my hands to the sink. My breath came fast and shaky. I didn’t want to go out there. But if I didn’t… he’d tear the door off like he had last time. The knob still had scratches from that night.

“You’re eighteen now,” I whispered to myself. “You don’t have to be scared.”

That was a lie.

But I quickly wore my pajamas as I rushed downstairs to open the door. But he was already in the living room. He had polluted the house with beer and stale cigarettes. The lamp was knocked over. Couch cushion was a mess.

He stood with one boot still half off, shirt unbuttoned and hanging open over his gut. His belt was unlooped, dangling from one hand. His eyes—God—his eyes didn’t look like they knew who I was.

“Birthday girl,” he slurred, grinning like a maniac. “My baby’s all grown up.”

At least he remembers my birthday.

But something wasn't right with the way he said it.

“You’re drunk,” I said quietly. “You should go lie down.”

“Why would I lie down,” he said, stepping closer, “when you matured, my little slut?”

I backed away. “I’ll call someone.”

“Who?” His laugh was wet, mean. “Ain’t nobody comin’. Nobody’s ever gonna come for you.”

His hand shot out and grabbed my arm.

I flinched, tried to pull away. “Let me go.”

“I took care of you,” he hissed. “All these years. My house, my food. I could've done this long ago, but you were a child. You think it was all for free, huh? I was waiting for you to be ripe, so I could eat you when I want to?”

“No.” My voice was thin as I broke down in tears, pathetic. My courage was already failing me. “You don’t mean that dad.”

“I mean every inch of it. Dolly.”

He yanked me close. His fingers gripped my jaw, tilted my face up. I could smell the beer on his breath. His other hand touched my cheek, then slid down to my waist. The tank top I wore clung wet to my chest.

“Stop,” I whimpered. “You’re not—You can’t—”

He ignored me.

He tore my tank top as my breasts fell to his face. Without hesitation he slid his hands over my breast. His thumb brushed the nipple. My insides squirmed in pleasure but my body did otherwise.

He is my father I can't let this happen.

I tried to push him away but he was stronger.

I panicked.

If I screamed, he might hit me. If I stayed still, he might take more. He was muttering things under his breath—gross things. Stuff I never wanted to hear from anyone, especially not him.

“Please,” I whispered. “I’m your daughter. You’re drunk. You don’t mean it.”

“Daughter my foot,” he growled. “I had been enduring till this moment.”

His hands went to my trouser as he tore it open too and I was completely naked. He held my both hands with his one hand as he turned to pin me to the wall, revealing his fully erected dick to pull inside my pussy.

That was it.

Something in me snapped.

I kneed him in the leg. Not hard enough to drop him, but enough to make him grunt. I shoved him back with all my weight. He grabbed at hair trying to drag me backwards but I kicked him harder this time. I covered myself, and ran for the front door.

He lunged after me, cursing. “You ungrateful little—”

I snatched my yellow raincoat off the hook as I sprinted through the hallway. He almost caught the edge of my sleeve.

I slammed the door behind me and tore down the porch steps into the rain.

It hit me like ice.

The wind slapped my face, drenched my hair in seconds. Thunder cracked over my head, close and angry.

I ran barefoot, legs splashing through puddles. The sidewalk was slick. I tripped on a curb, scraped my knee, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t even cry. The adrenaline was louder than the pain.

Somewhere behind, he was yelling. His voice faded with every step I took.

Streetlights flickered. My breath came out in clouds. I was freezing, wet, scared, but I wasn't planning on turning around.

I walked down the street aimlessly. I didn't have any money. I thought of calling Cassie but I didn't have my phone. My adopted father broke it months ago one night I attempted to call the cops on him.

I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t have money. My phone was inside, somewhere under the couch maybe, probably dead.

All I had was my stupid yellow coat and a racing heart.

A set of headlights cut through the darkness. I tried to wave it down, but my knees buckled. The light got brighter—too bright.

I felt the thud before I heard it.

Everything spun.