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This is another story written by me, Angel, dear readers. However, I'm not including this one in the Angel's Adventures series because I don't consider it an adventure – I consider it a mistake. Was it rape? I don't know. Was it non-consensual? Yes. Does that constitute rape? Who knows? This is not an act of fiction but fact. The names have been changed to protect the guilty. As with any story I write, if you are under 18 or offended by the graphic depiction of sex acts between adults, please go elsewhere. Feel free to email, IM, or lead feedback. ~ Angel


To those of you who have been around, you'll know that back in the Dark Ages, Before the World Wide Web, there was Gopher – and with Gopher was IRC. Ah, yes, I loved IRC. Telnet back then, before this mIRC crap that's around nowadays. Some friends and I from college "hung out" in a channel and had parties, met up, hooked up, etc from time to time. This was over 11 years ago, so things were quite different. The net was more computer hardcore geeks and programmers, colleges and universities, and the government people. There weren't warnings about kids on line and people who would take advantages of you yet – it was just a bunch of supposedly harmless fun, right? I thought so too. I'd been online most of the year, chatting back and forth with different people from all over. My hall mate and I had started chatting with a fellow from a close University that I was familiar with. He was a transfer student, so only here for a semester and we had talked about getting together when he came over to our state for tournaments or what not.

Alicia knew him as well as I did and so when he was to come over, my roommate was out of town and hers wasn't, so I offered him the floor in my room to crash on. I had done this lots of times with lots of different people and things were always fine. There wasn't the negative connotations that are around now about meeting strangers in personal places. I had done it often enough and was a social enough person that I didn't consider it a big deal. He was visiting and since I had the space and he didn't, it was an obvious choice for him to stay with me. I cleaned up my rather pathetically small dorm room, stocked the fridge we had and prepared to have a good time over the weekend with a new friend. I didn't consider it a liability that I was contemplating drinking with this man because I drank enough back then that I had even out drank some of the fraternity brothers I was a little sister for. However, when I've been drinking, like some females, I tend to be more aggressive and flirty.

You have to realize that this is back in the days before digital cameras and scanners were readily available. I was getting online on a 2400-baud modem – I remember my boyfriend had a 9600 and I thought it was AMAZINGLY fast! So much for technology. When we had first started talking to Ron, he had described himself as tall, pale, and handsome. I was curious as to what he would look like, as that was all I knew. He arrived upstairs and knocked on my door while Alicia and I lounged around. He wasn't the most handsome man, more a ‘dashing' sort, with long, strong looking legs, an angular jaw, dark curly hair, glasses, and best of all – a fabulous British accent. At that time, I loved accents and was a fan of anything other than Midwestern twang. He and Licia and I, along with several friends from my hall all hit it off fabulously and spent Friday night eating pizza, drinking wine coolers, and playing Truth or Dare and Quarters. At no point during any of this had I felt in any way uncomfortable with him.

Around midnight, the others ambled out and Licia, him, and I decided to keep drinking and playing games. I made up a batch of my special Peach Lemonade (powdered lemonade made with vodka instead of water and a heavy splash of peach schnapps) and we kept drinking and laughing, talking and enjoying each other's company. Looking back, I guess I should have realized that sitting there, drinking and relaxing next to someone who's almost a complete stranger wasn't a good idea. I remember he gave both of us a back massage and then sat and rubbed my hair as I relaxed on the floor with pillows. After a few hours, Licia was getting tired and I was ready to sleep so I showed him where the men's showers were on the other side of the floor and let him get cleaned up for bed.

I had thrown down my sleeping bag and some extra blankets, but even though it was winter the only thing that did work consistently in the old dorm hall was the heater, so we weren't too worried about him being cold on the floor. I normally slept naked because of the heat, but in concession to having company and living with another person, I had started to tolerate sleeping in tank tops and panties or shorts. I myself went and washed up, getting ready for bed and dropped my robe as I climbed into my bunk when I suddenly heard him come in. He was back sooner than I had expected but as the only light in the room was from the hallway shining in under my door, I figured I was all right in my tank and panties as I had the covers pulled up. I was rather tipsy, but in no way considered myself that drunk. We had both been drinking rather heavily of my special Lemonade but we had eaten enough pizza that I felt it balanced things out. We said our goodnights and I remember flipping over so my back was to him.

The next thing I remember was waking up feeling hot and cold at the same time. I was laying on my back with my blankets down around my ankles and my legs tangled in them. My shirt was up over my chest and my panties were sliding down a bit and all I could think was that I had obviously moved a lot in the night. However, I felt wet. My panties were moved so that they were between my lips and I felt sensitive as I reached down to move them back into place. I didn't think anything of it, even as I looked over and saw Ron lying on his back half asleep with his dick hard, his hips moving. I wasn't shocked so much as surprised, and I guessed he was having a wet dream - he was moaning a bit and muttering. Figuring that must have been what woke me up, I didn't think anything of the panties and shirt bit, straightened things out, and rolled back over to go to sleep.

I don't know how much more time had passed but the next thing I remember was feeling someone's hands on my breasts and my thighs rubbing against hair on legs. My boyfriend went to another school in another state, so we didn't see each other that often so it had been a while since I had gotten laid by anything other than my own hands. I know I leaned into it, thinking it was a dream. The alcohol was still in my system, I felt flushed and sweaty, yet cool and my nipples were hard. I felt someone moving their hands over my breasts and sides, and moving my panties back and forth, teasing my clit. In my mind, it was my boyfriend and we were together again, finally making love after having been so long apart. I said his name, ‘Kyle' and tried to open my eyes before I realized something was wrong. The person on top of me wasn't the right shape. As I came awake, I realized it was Ron on top of me and before I could say anything or wake up enough to honestly react, he was inside me, completely, without a condom.

My mind was still wrapped in the dreams and his hands were working my body well enough that I just laid there in a daze for a few moments. He put my legs up around his hips and started to fuck me faster. I finally got a hold of myself and remember putting my hands up, telling him no, stop, I didn't want him to do this. My mouth was dry and I remember that I had a hard time understand what I was saying. He put his hands on mine and pulled them up over my head, leaning in to move harder. He didn't even react to my words, just kept sliding his cock in and out of my pussy. I was wet enough from the stimulant of the alcohol and my dream that he didn't have any problems, even though at the time he was the largest man I'd been with. I laid there, my hands over my head, his mouth on my nipples, biting and sucking on them, tears running down my cheeks. I had no control over my own body, I felt betrayed by it. He reached between us and flicked my clit, teasing it enough that I felt my orgasm coming closer. Suddenly realizing again that he was inside me without a condom and I wasn't on the pill, I started trying to push him off me. He kissed me, hard, his hands on the sides of my face, holding me still while his hips rode me through the violent orgasm I was having. I didn't want to cum, I didn't want to have any kind of pleasure from this, but he was whispering dirty things in my ear, telling me how he hoped I would get knocked up and he wanted to fuck me till I was pregnant and I just kept crying and moaning.

I moved my face away from his, gasping for air, still panting and trying to tell him to pull out. I remember him getting an odd look on his face and just fucking me harder, ramming that dick in and out. I realized he was about to cum as he suddenly grabbed me, my hands in his, over my head again, his face right next to mine, his lips next to my ear and came, hard, inside me. I could feel his cock jerkin as he shot his load up into me. I just laid there, both of our bodies still jerking and spasming from our respective orgasms, tears running down my cheeks and into my ears as his breath rasped hard in my ear, against my pillow. I jerked my arms down and covered my breasts, pushing at him enough that he finally rolled off of me. He had the audacity to wrap his arms around me as if it was something special, and in the bare bitter light look at me and smile. I asked him what he was thinking and how he could have done that, when he just looked at me funny and told me that's what he thought I'd invited him up for.

Somehow, I got up and went to the bathroom, cleaning myself off. I know looking back I shouldn't have, I should have gotten up and gone to the Campus Police and reported it as a date rape. Even with all the Freshman Orientation classes and fliers they had put out at the beginning of school, I didn't feel like what had happened was his fault, but mine. I had drank with him, I had invited him up to visit, I had let him give me a backrub, I had let him stay in my room, etc. etc. I went back to my room that night and climbed up into my roommate's top bunk and let him finish the night out in mine. I cried so more, more for feeling stupid and having a trust betrayed than for the guilt, stupidity and naivety that I must have had at that time.

Eventually, morning came and for him, nothing was wrong. He got up and showered, ate breakfast and went about things as if last night was just a fond memory. Licia came over and knew something was wrong immediately, but didn't say anything. I found out later she had seen the container of lemonade and realized it was all gone. I didn't realize I had drank that much, and he was honest with her that he hadn't had hardly any. He told her he had planned on coming here to meet us both and when I invited him to stay, he had taken it that I meant in bed with him. I never really said anything to him about it while he was there, but once, online, a few weeks later, I got a message from him asking if I had started my period. When I told him that yes, I had, he wrote back that he was glad but also sad and I finally lost it. I told him that I considered what he had done rape and that I wanted nothing to do with him. He was shocked, and we argued on line but in the end, I never heard from him again.

Do I think I was naive and stupid? Yes. Do I think I deserved what happened? No.

~ Angel
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