A mostly true story, as much as my memory allows.
Legally I never should have been at that nightclub. Yet, this local discotheque basically allowed everyone that "looked" old enough entry. Specifically, this meant young attractive girls, who would then attract guys who would spend money on booze. It was a bit freer in the late 70s. Not legal, but club owners, cops etc., looked the other way more often than not.
I will tell you, I was about (15?),16-17 (underage) at the time friends and I started to frequent this 21 and older nightclub. This night, Innocently, (naively) stupidly, I went home with a boy/man (21, 23?). Once we got to his house, apartment, it took me a while, I realized each of us had totally different intentions. I really had no idea. However, thinking I was 21 or older, he expected me to stay the night and have sex with him. Not a virgin, but I still had not progressed too much sexually. My few experiences before this, a little kissy face, maybe clit rub (no orgasm), petting, some very vanilla straight missionary sex if I had any sex at all. So naïve, I did not realize it was an unwritten agreement when you went home with someone, you're planning on having sex with them. I was just stupid. Clueless.
Back to the evening in question. I don't remember how we got "there", in bed, me half dressed.
Nor do I recall the details.
What I do know, he wanted to fuck me.
Surely we kissed or made out, maybe he felt me up, over and then under my bra. Maybe he got his hand down my pants.
At some point, I asked him to take me home. It was late.
The more I pleaded, the more insistent he became.
He would not bring me home, he told me he didn't have a phone (I wanted to call my mother for a ride), and his roommate had the car they shared for his night job.
I was stuck. And naive.
Most sequences are fuzzy, so please bear with me.
He told me if we had sex one time he would take me home, or get me home. He bargained with me. Pressured me. He asked, "just let me rub on your slit. I won't put it inside. And you can go home."
The more I said no, the more he coerced me to stay. We were at an impasse and he had all the power. No cell phones, I didn't even see a phone in the apartment.
He had all the power.
I was mostly naked, on top of me, he rubbed his cock on me between my legs simulating fucking me. It was incredibly indecent. A little scary, very exciting, and very shameful. Was I turned on? Yes. So many emotions and thoughts ran through my mind.
Not sure if I had been totally naked or not.
Then I dressed.
I asked him to take me home.
He would not.
All night we bargained, me wanting to home. His wanting to have sex with me.
He wanted to do it again each time promising he'd take me home. I didn't want to (mentally), but he convinced me to leave most of my clothes on.
Each inch I "gave" him, he took a little bit more. Or rather have me more inches, of him.
My bra was pushed up over my breasts so he could lick and play with my nipples. After rubbing my mound he pushed the crotch of my panties aside. Promising he would rub his erection on my mound and clit again. As he slid over my now slick and slippery pussy, he pleaded to, yup, 'to let him just put the tip in'. He was convincing. It was round and bulbous, and very big to me.
When I look back, this coercion thing is so very hot to me. The pushing of my panties aside so he could just put his dick into my hole...very hot.
So very dirty. Like he just wanted to use my genitalia for his pleasure. Way before the words "toy" and "slut" etc., were ubiquitous and splashed all over the internet.
But I felt it. I felt dirty, in a the best possible way. It was an incredible turn on.
We bargained all night long. Me wanting to go home. Him wanting to put that cock inside me. Each time he would slide more of his cock into me. Just the tip. Rubbing or grinding as we used to call it, the first time, subsequently he actually got his round head and fat cock inside. By the 2nd or 3rd time he was sliding the entire length of his rod in my very wet hole. He fucked me 4 or 5 times that night, maybe more. Each time after I got dressed just so he would talk me out of my clothes again. At least partially.
Maybe with my Catholic upbringing, I just had to say no. Had to be a "good girl".
He fucked a super reluctant girl by coercion and bargaining.
No violence, just coercive words, he wouldn't take no for an answer.
Whatever you think about what happened, I don't think of this as rape, although technically it was. This night has left me, or gifted me with the most intense fantasies of non-violently being taken sexually. This laid the ground work for my consensual non consensual (CNC), fantasies.
(This is a true story. And oh, shit, my mother was so pissed when he finally took me home the next day.)