chances – which is close to impossible.
On second thought, forget that bracket of six and ninety; there are crazies out
there who will rape any female of any age. Rape is not intercourse; it is murderous
aggression.
On third thought, what happened to me was not even quasi-rape, as I knew better than
to place myself un-chaperoned in private with a preacher yet I had gone ahead and
done so, knowing quite well what would happen. Reverend Timberly (the slob!) had
managed to let me know when I was fourteen that he felt that he could teach me a
great deal about life and love… while patting my fanny in a fatherly (!) way. I
had complained to my father about it without quite naming him, and Father’s advice
had enabled me to put a stop to it.
But this Bible thumper – It was six weeks after we moved into our new house; I knew
I was pregnant, and I was horny; Brian was away. I’m not complaining; Brian had to
go where business took him and this is true of endless trades and professions; the
breadwinner must go where the bread is. This time he was in Denver; then, when I had
expected him home, he sent me a telegram (niteletter) telling me that he must go to
Montana – just three or four days, a week at the most. Love, Brian.
Spit. Dirty drawers. Garbage. But I kept my smile because Nancy was watching me and
at six she was hard to fool. I read her a revised version, then put the typed sheet
where she could not get at it; she had taught herself to read.
At three that afternoon, bathed, dressed, and wearing no drawers, I tapped at the
door of the study of the Reverend Doctor Ezekiel `Biblethumper’. My usual baby
watcher was with my three, with written instructions including where I was going and
the Home system telephone number of the pastor’s study.
The reverend doctor and I had been doing a silent and inconspicuous barnyard dance
ever since he had been called to that pulpit three years earlier. I didn’t like him
all that much, but I was acutely aware of him and his deep, organlike voice and
clean masculine odour. It is too bad that he didn’t have bad breath or smelly feet
or something like that to put me off. But physically I could not fault him – good
teeth, sweet breath, bathed and shampooed regularly.
My excuse for going to his study was that I needed to confer with him because I was
chairman of the ladies auxiliary committee for the forthcoming whoop-te-do – I don’t
remember what. But twentieth century Protestant churches were always preparing for
the next whoop-te-do. Yes, I do remember; a citywide revival. Billy Sunday? I think
he was the one – a ball player and reformed drunkard who had found Jesus in a big
way.
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Heinlein, Robert A – To Sail Beyond the Sunset.txt
Dr Zeke let me in; we looked at each other and we both knew; we didn’t need to say
anything. He put his arms around me; I turned my face up. He put his mouth to mine
and my mouth came open as my eyes closed. In scant seconds after he answered his
door he had me down on the couch at the back of his desk, my skirts up, and he was
trying to couple with me.
I reached down and took hold of him and got him aimed properly; he had been about to
make his own hole.
Big! With a lost feeling of `Briney is not going to like this’, I took him. He had
no finesse; he just romped on home. But I was so excited that I was teetering on the
edge and ready to explode when I felt him spend – just as someone knocked at his
study door and he pulled out of me.
The bleeping affair had lasted under a minute… and my orgasm had shut down like a
frozen pipe.
But all was not lost. Or should not have been. Once that jack rabbit jumped off me,
I simply stood up and was immediately presentable. In 1906 skirts came down to the