Straight Female / 42
Paying Now For The Wrong I Did When I Was A Teenager
First the romantic version. We were on vacation at a small beach house in the summer in foreign country. It was evening, the sun was setting and I walked out on the beach in front of the house and was lost listening to the surf and watching the sun set. I was sixteen, had my new small bikini, I felt electricity in my tits when I slipped my top off, standing there almost naked. A man walked up, from somewhere and asked for my name and where I was staying. He talked to me and kept walking away from the rent house where I was staying and I followed him. Soon, or maybe not so soon, it was dark and I was on my back in the dunes and he was fucking me and I was saying things and making noises I had never heard coming from me.
Now the version as reported to the police. I was sixteen and I had fight with my sister and walked out onto the beach where I was sulking. I was wearing tight jean shorts and an open top and was standing with my tits in the air and my arms out, walking around 'flying', my mother screaming at me to stop what I was doing and come back in and help her with dinner.
A man came up out of nowhere and told me to come back to the dunes with him. He fucked me, tossing my shorts out over the dune to the beach behind us. My panties on one side, my shirt still open, my father found me all fucked and crying. That was the story given to the police and I didn't correct it. I was interviewed by a police woman who wanted a description, and I made up a man, who happened to fit the description of a man who I had seen earlier that day at the pizza parlor in the town near where we were staying. I was shown a sketch and I vouched for it, the man was found and accused of sexual assault of minor. I didn't return for the trial, it was October then, but I stuck with my identification. All I know is that he was sentenced.
The truth is that I made up the man who had sex with me that night in the dunes, I couldn't provide a description or make an identification. That he was a man and not a boy, of that I'm certain. In my dreams, and I have dreams of that night, it is always the romantic version. I never dream the one that other people made up for me. I confessed this to a man when I was in my mid thirties, he took me to his apartment and worked me over, fucking me this way and that way and using oral and manual sex with me. I woke up with him and I've been close to him since. I cannot refuse him, even if sometimes he is asking too much when I am not in the mood for it. I suck him often, he likes to hold my head with both hands and stare down at me. I know I'm a fuck object, a fitting role for a liar.
Now the version as reported to the police. I was sixteen and I had fight with my sister and walked out onto the beach where I was sulking. I was wearing tight jean shorts and an open top and was standing with my tits in the air and my arms out, walking around 'flying', my mother screaming at me to stop what I was doing and come back in and help her with dinner.
A man came up out of nowhere and told me to come back to the dunes with him. He fucked me, tossing my shorts out over the dune to the beach behind us. My panties on one side, my shirt still open, my father found me all fucked and crying. That was the story given to the police and I didn't correct it. I was interviewed by a police woman who wanted a description, and I made up a man, who happened to fit the description of a man who I had seen earlier that day at the pizza parlor in the town near where we were staying. I was shown a sketch and I vouched for it, the man was found and accused of sexual assault of minor. I didn't return for the trial, it was October then, but I stuck with my identification. All I know is that he was sentenced.
The truth is that I made up the man who had sex with me that night in the dunes, I couldn't provide a description or make an identification. That he was a man and not a boy, of that I'm certain. In my dreams, and I have dreams of that night, it is always the romantic version. I never dream the one that other people made up for me. I confessed this to a man when I was in my mid thirties, he took me to his apartment and worked me over, fucking me this way and that way and using oral and manual sex with me. I woke up with him and I've been close to him since. I cannot refuse him, even if sometimes he is asking too much when I am not in the mood for it. I suck him often, he likes to hold my head with both hands and stare down at me. I know I'm a fuck object, a fitting role for a liar.
- That's Juicy! 11
- Remove It! 10
