Ultimate Experience

Literotic asexstories – Ultimate Experience by Dr___Pepper,Dr___Pepper
My steps were getting faster and faster the closer I got. I was craving a shower. The whole week, the classes, everything–I was excited to wash it all off of me. Few more blocks and you’re home, girl, I though, and felt my feet have accelerated a tiny bit as if in excitement.

I hate to stay at school this late in the afternoon, we all do, and I am sure that Attwood knows this. Why else would he keep on speaking twenty bloody minutes after his lesson ended, I wondered. The last lesson in the Friday afternoon? To torture as, that’s why!

A quill might be mightier than a sword, but apparently neither trumps the authority of a professor that gets to decide if you pass the class or not. So we all stayed to the very end, and we all dispersed as soon as we could.

The streets were getting empty as people ware already home from work. Those about to kick the Friday night out have not got out of their homes yet. The autumn weather have not exactly invited one to spend time out, unless you had a good reason to, so there was pretty much no one around. Good time for a walk. Especially, good time for a walk home.

I turned quickly when a car stopped right next to me. It has not stopped as cars do, it just halted on a spot. And, it was not a car, it was a rather big van with sliding doors. I recognized the doors slide to open, because the moment I looked that way the door were already open. And, so was my mouth seeing a pair of men–with ski masks over their heads–hopping out and running towards me. My legs froze on that very spot and I could not move in any direction. Four eyes, that was all I could see of the men, were looking straight at me when I stood there like a statue anchored to the sidewalk. The direction I moved towards eventually, was inside the van when the two men grabbed me by my arms, and showed me there like a bag of potatoes.

The moment I remembered to start kicking and screaming, I heard the door have shut close. All the light disappeared and all I felt was rough grip around my wrists. My hands were twisted behind my back while I was laying there face down. Then, with the squealing tires, the van headed off again.

Second or so later, the driver hit the brakes completely out of the blue, and both the strangers somersaulted over my lying body. It must have been both of them, as it took them some time and cursing to untangle all the legs and elbows I felt swirling over my back. When I could, I tried to get up to my feet, but their hands found me–even in the dark–before I got up, and pushed me back forcing me to lay down. They grabbed me by whatever they found, my coat, my wrist, my hair and torn me down again. I ended up pinned to the floor with someone’s knee piercing my back painfully. With every breath I made, a staggering pain hit me in between my shoulder blades where they knelt on me. Just moving my arms up–so I can protect my head from further pushing and dragging–got me to squeal in pain.

I got out few “No”s and “Au”s when I realized that the driver is talking with someone. A woman, it seemed. Not that I could see any of that. There was nothing but a faint beam of light getting inside through a tiny window leading to the cabin. I slowly started to recognize shapes around me as my eyes were getting used to the dark I found myself in. I yelled some more, but the voices continued uninterrupted. At that moment, a rough big hand covered my mouth, so I could barely make any sound at all. I kept trying though, until my futile attempts got interrupted.

“Get her out!” shouted the driver after slamming the bulkhead loudly.

“What?” hissed a voice right into my ear. The knee moved a bit, and I closed my eyes in pain. I felt two tiny tears have rolled down my tightly shut eyelids.

“Just get her out, now!” the driver insisted, still shouting. Then the door swung open from the outside, I was grabbed by my arms again and pushed out. I swished through the air, closely missing the driver that was now climbing back to the front seat again.

I stumbled when my feet hit the sidewalk focusing all my energy on trying not to collapse on the pavement. I still kinda did. When I got to stand still enough to turn around, I saw an old black van taking off rapidly, and like in a dream, I watched the car fading to the distance.

I stood there like parallelized, observing what was happening as if it was a movie. Once I got back some control of my own body, I was quite surprised to realize that what I am holding in my hands–both of them–are my glasses. I stared at them, thinking of how they got there. Then I looked around, as if searching for someone who would help me understand that.

The street was calm, and almost empty. “I got to call the police,” I said aloud, and reached out for the bag that I carried over my shoulder. But, it was not there! I looked around frantically as one would look for a dog that was–just a second ago–wandering around somewhere near to one’s feet. “My bag!” I exclaimed again. There was a figure on the same sidewalk walking away from me not that far away. It was clear that she–because it was woman–was not having my bag, but I run towards her anyway. It was the only person around, the only person that could help me, I thought.

She looked apparently surprised when I coughed her up. “They took my bag,” I said and waived my hand in the direction the van have just disappeared. “They put me in a van, they took my bag, and then they kicked me off again. Did you see that?” I got out, pausing for breath a few times.

“Your bag?” she went on and looked in the direction I was pointing to.

“Yeah, with all my stuff in it. I need to call the police, but I can’t ’cause my phone was there too.”

She made few searching looks around the street, and then her hand slid into her purse. It eventually emerged holding a cell phone, and I thanked her instinctively before she even started dialing a number.

I looked into the distance, and she was bending over the display. Entire street was quite empty. The lady begun pacing while speaking to the cell phone. I put my glasses back on, and redone my ponytail instinctively. These mechanic movements was about all I was able to do right now. I checked up on myself, my hands. my legs, all I could see seemed fine. No pain, no blood, no torn clothes, that was all on the plus side. No wallet, no keys, no cellphone, no laptop–well, those were the minuses.

I tried to replay what happened in my head, but it all felt so blurry. The blood was still pumping loudly in my head, and I could feel a cold sweat all over my body. I slowly started to become aware of things around me, but I could barely focus on any of them. My hands ware shaking, I could see that. I folded them instinctively and begun to look around. The reality of a late afternoon town still felt quite distant to me.

The lady kept talking to the phone, without turning back to me. I walked up and around her, so she can see me, but she signaled me to wait until she is done with the call. It did not sound like she is talking to the police, though. But I was too shocked to worry. Too shocked to suspect.

“So, what did they say?” I asked once she was done with the “ah-hah”s to whoever was on the other end of the line.

“They will be here in an hour” she said looking around the street. She looked as worried as I was. Her eyes eventually stopped moving around and ended up looking at me, but she said nothing more, although it seemed there might be something she would like to say.

“Did you see what happened?” I said looking straight at her. I could not imagine that she would not notice all the fuzz we made, and simply kept on walking like that. She must saw something.

“Well…” said she, with a long pause, looking around the street nervously. And then it struck me like a lighting–it was her arguing with the driver. It was not a passenger on a front seat, no, I was her voice!

“You talked to them!” I accused her, plain and simple. She was apparently surprised, she opened her mouth to speak, but did not get any word out. “What the hell was that?” I inquired. Things slowly started to get back to me, and I was beginning to think straight.

“Look…” she began, but I gave her no chance to add much to it.

“And why did they want to…” I paused and looked towards the sound of footsteps coming from the other side of the street. The man was too far to hear us, but I whispered anyway “… to kidnap me?”

“Let me explain.” she said while coming closer to me, “Let’s sit for a coffee, I will explain, and I promise it will all make sense to you”.

“What? Should we not wait here until the police arrives?” I asked instinctively.

“We agreed to meet in the coffee around the corner.” she said and motioned me to walk with her, “Please”.

My mind was still apparently not at its clearest, because all I was able to reply was: “I don’t have any money”.

“This one is on me, do not worry,” she said, and turned in a direction she suggested.

We walked together from where I came from originally, away from my apartment, away from my shower, away from the only place I could think of right now. There was no point in getting any closer though, as I was out without the keys to get in. I could not think of a better thing to fill the hour with anyway. So I went with her, sticking my hands deeply to the pockets of my coat. The little I found in there, was all I had at the moment. I looked over my shoulder towards the place where I lived, but my steps carried me elsewhere.

There was a small coffee in one of the streets on the left side of that blasted road. I have been there once before, and I did not like it very much back then. That was unlikely to change that day.

“You see, this is one big misunderstanding.” said she, when we sit at the corner table by the window.

“What the hell happened?” I asked anxiously, “Why did they put me in that thing?”. In past few minutes, my shock was slowly turning to an anger, as I realized there were something she knows. Something, she is not telling me.

“I will explain. It was not a real kidnapping.” she said with a nervous smile at her face, as she was trying to comfort me pretending that what I said was something ridiculous.

“Oh, really?” I went quietly, but still angrily. “What the hell it was then? Who were they, anyway?” I paused to catch my breath.

“Look…” she said and lifted her hands off the table in a gesture trying to stop the flow of my questions.

“Actually, they let ME go when YOU told them,” I said pointing my finger at her. She opened her mouth, trying to say something.

“Good evening!” interrupted the waiter just when it looked like she is finally going to tell me, “What can I get you?”

She ordered a latte for herself.

“I am fine, thank you,” I said towards the waiter with a bitter expression.

“Make it twice, please,” she said in a voice as if she were apologizing for my behavior. She waited for him to walk far enough before she lent forward in her chair and got back to where she was.

“They listened” she said quietly, “because it was me who paid them”. I stared at her, but she said nothing more.

“Look, you either tell me immediately why did they shove me in there and where my stuff is, or I will walk straight to the bar and call the police!”

The Lady viewed her hands in the air. “I bag you, this is” she went, “quite delicate for me personally. And it is crucial that no one will ever know. Please!” she insisted.

I kept looking at her, with a face that have left her with little hope that I will keep any of this a secret. “Where is my stuff,” I asked as calmly and firmly as I could.

“You will get it all returned, I swear,” she continued, “they said it will be here in an hour”.

“So it was not a police you called,” I said with triumphant smile, hearing that my suspicion was correct. It immediately felt inadequate to me given the situation. Her lips shaped around a word “no” but it was so silent, it was impossible to hear it. Her eyes turned down looking into the table desk while saying so.

“You know them! But why I have to wait for an hour? Just tell them to turn around now! They must have been just around the corner when you called them.”

“They would not meet with me.” she said. “Look, it is complicated. We got to wait for my contact, he will take it–your bag–from them and meet me here.” I gave her yet another look of disbelief and impatience. “You will get it all back, trust me,” she said, now a bit calmer, “but you must promise me you keep all what happened to yourself”.

“I don’t care what this is all about, or what crazy business you’re involved in, but don’t expect me to cover anything. You will be glad if I won’t go straight to the…” I paused, with my arm stretched out pointing in a direction where I hoped I would find the nearest police station. But I realized that it is not quite wise to threaten the only person that knows where all your stuff is. I breathed heavily instead of finishing that sentence.

“I realize how does this all sound, and I am terribly sorry I get you into this.” she said in an apologetic tone.

“There we go!” said the waiter putting the two tall cups on the table. It took him forever to position each small plate in front of the both of us. We stopped talking, giving away fake smiles and meaningless “thank you”s until he was gone.

She was first to start speaking–she was calmer than before.

“I need you to know and understand what happened, and why,” she said. I wanted to interrupt her, but she would not let me. “By the time I am done talking,” she continued, “you will know that this is nothing you should be worried about. You will see that this is no one else’s business, but mine. And, I will get you all your stuff untouched shortly.” she paused, and swallowed heavily.

The word “untouched” got stuck in my head. I already felt like naked not having my phone or keys from my apartment. But only then I realized, that someone else actually HAD. I could not suppress the picture of someone’s fingers flipping through the pages of my notebook. That some stranger is browsing in my wallet like if it were their own. That there is nothing that prevents them to turn the key, and enter my apartment while I wait here. For a moment, I felt I would run home and sit there in front of the door protecting it with my own body.

When I looked up, there were a pair of eyes looking at me.

“Do you agree?” she asked, in a way it was clear that she have asked once before.

“Sorry, what?” I went while trying to shake off the thoughts that would not leave my head.

“I will prove you, that what have happened was an unfortunate misunderstanding,” she repeated speaking as clearly as she could making sure that she will not lose me again, “and you will get your things back”. Then she turned her voice down and continued, “But, you will keep all what have happened today to yourself. There would be no need to go to the police–you will see that for yourself. There will be nothing yours missing, and you will understand you were not supposed to be in any danger at all. Can we agree on that?” she closed.

I shrugged, not knowing what to say.

“Again, I am so sorry I have put you through all this. And it is not my fault, as you will see, but we have to help one another. Okay?”.

I sighed heavily. “If this will all make sense and turns out to be as harmless as you say, and I will get my all things back then, yeah, I don’t have to tell anyone, I guess”.

“Thank you.” she said, trying to hide how relieved she felt.

She pushed her coffee aside a bit and wiped the desk in front of her with one of her hands. Then she began. “There is nothing immoral about what we do, you see. Everyone is part of that on their own, free will. But, there is one problem though: it happens to be illegal.”

She looked at me seeing my eyes popping out when she said that. On a second thought, I figured, it was not all that surprising. “There is no way to do this legally, unfortunately. But maybe, that is part of the reason it is so appealing. That is why it all needs to happen in strict secrecy”.

She paused to sip from her coffee. I realized that I have been fidgeting with the spoon I got, but have not touched mine so far.

“I do not know who those men are, I always talk to my contact only. We agree on what I want, they plan it all out, and they come with a bill. I never got to see a face of any of them–ever. They always wear masks, or they put a bag over my head, so I…”.

“What?!” I interrupted her.

She took another deep breath and looked directly into my eyes. “It is about sex, you see?”. I was looking at the Lady, motionless, speechless. She was easily fifteen or even twenty years older than I was. Her manners–the way she spoke, and the way she were dressed–none of it suggested she had ever said the word “sex” aloud before.

“Since when is sex illegal?” I asked instinctively, and regretted that immediately. I did not want to hear any more of THAT story. Though, I started to suspect she is making this all up, as no matter how much she spoke, things was not making more sense than before.

The Lady looked around nervously. “It is not just any sex,” she used the word again, “what they are selling is an authentic experience of being… ‘used'”.

“Used?”

“Used” she repeated, as if I was expected to understand what she means. “Some would say,” she went on, “raped, but we do not see things that way.”

I almost drowned in my coffee when I heard her saying that. “What?” I managed to say eventually.

“There is no other way. Unconditional anonymity, that is what we rely on. You see, there are laws to protect everyone while getting intimate by requiring consent of all parties,” she started in the tone of a school teacher, “and those laws are absolutely necessary when we, as a society, benefit from having them. It is just, sometimes,” she paused with her tone now turning into one that was more human, “you wish they would not exist.” She closed that sentence with lifting her eyes of the table to meet mine to check–like with an old partner in crime–that we are on the same page.

We were not, and I kept glaring at her in disbelief.

“What would you do if you wanted to be,” she continued to break my silence, “used against your own will?”. “Sexually,” she added as I apparently did not look like I knew what she was talking about.

“What? Why would I…? Why would anybody want that?” I inquired.

“Most people may not, but how about those that do?” she asked stoically, looking straight into my eyes with her head a bit tilted to one side. “You cannot enjoy that with someone you know or love, because if things go wrong you would risk the relationship that you have. And even if all goes well it always is merely pretended”. She continued with a quiet but engaged tone of voice, as if she had this monologue prepared and rehearsed thoroughly. “You also cannot have that with a complete stranger, because you cannot trust them. You will either get hurt badly, or you might not get what you want at all. They also cannot trust you, as you can always turn to the police if your recognize them later walking on a street. But these guys, they have it all figured out”.

I set there with my mouth opened while she spoke–at length, not pausing, not hesitating. All her nervousness seemed gone now.

“You pay for a package, and they will take care of the rest,” she said.

“You paid them to kidnap you and…”, I went, but I did not find the words to finish the question I started. Nor was I sure anymore that I want to know the answer.

She nodded slightly. “They were supposed to pick me up at 6:30, from that sidewalk where we met. That is why I was there. ‘Look for a woman in glasses and long, black coat.’ those were the instructions for the pickup.”

I looked up at the hanger on the wall behind the Lady. One of our coats was noticeably fancier than the other, but they sure were both black and long. I shivered. It reminded me the pair of brutes, those eyes and hands. They appeared even more sleazy and disgusting now.