Mature Slut Stories
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Mature Slut Stories
© 2021 The When You\'re Ready Project
The first time I was raped I was 16 years old. The night exists for me in a series of flash-bulb images that I can neither piece together nor erase from my memory, despite years of trying. I’m still not sure if it was my fault, even though I know it wasn’t.
I don’t think about it very often anymore, but every few years I revisit the spiral of shame, and guilt.
My last clear memory was stumbling away from the crowd, looking for a place to sleep. I was drunk… really drunk. I was being a typical teenager: acting out, rebelling – trying to distance myself from a goody-two-shoes image. Before that night, I had only been to a couple of parties, most of my wild stories were embellishments. My parents were known for being strict, so I didn’t get invited out very often. I w anted desperately to be part of the cool, older crowd who drank and smoked cigarettes. I was thrilled to be at the party, drinking cans of Coors and tossing them in the back yard of the kid whose parents were out of town. I realized m y ride had left without me, I was feeling sick and disoriented and needed to sleep until I could walk home. I found an empty bed, it was a child’s bedroom, I was going to lie down for just a few minutes.
I’m awake and it’s dark. He is inside me. I feel sick. Who is on top of me? “What are you doing?” He grunts. I try to push him away but my arms are weak. “I don’t want to.” I try to pull my underwear up, they’re around my knees. He pins my arm down. “Please.” “Shhh.” “I’m going to be sick.” “Shhh.” He’s getting angry. There’s a crack in the door and I can see wood paneling in the hallway. He finishes on the child’s bed, next to me. He wasn’t wearing a condom. He gets up and walks out. I want to run away, but I’m ashamed and I don’t want anyone to see me. I cry myself to sleep.
I’ve known my rapist since childhood. He was one of the cool kids at my school, a popular jock who was older than me. The next morning, his friend called me a slut and said “don’t worry, I won’t tell his girlfriend.” His girlfriend found out, and soon everyone had heard what a slut I was. Somehow I was more comfortable with being a slut than with being raped, so I accepted it.
And I never told anyone, until now.
I’m afraid to tell my parents. I’m afraid my step-father will read this, figure out who it was, and confront my rapist. I’m nervous about how he’ll feel when he realizes he inadvertently teased me about the events that happened after that night. I forgave him but I’m afraid he won’t forgive himself.
I’m afraid the people in my home town will call me a liar, and judge my parents. I live 3000 miles away now, but my family will have to deal with the backlash.
I’m afraid for my rapist’s wife and children.
But today I’m facing those fears, as much as I can handle at a time. Today, this blog is the beginning of an idea that may or not become big. It’s still anonymous, but that’s okay. It’s all I’m ready for, just yet.
When you’re ready, and want to share, I’m here. We’ll do this together.
When You're Ready.org is a community for survivors of sexual violence to share their stories.
alert(‘HACKING IN PROGRESS!!! ^%$ I HAAZ HAXX (&&* 1337 ‘);
Sounds like a fake story. Sorry, pretty cliche.
I think it sounds pretty fake but even though it might not be fake, nobody has to experience that, but my real question is why would you feel ok if people call you a slut. If I were you I wouldn’t like people calling me a slut, etc.
The When You're Ready Project is a community for survivors of sexual violence to share their stories and have their voices heard, finding strength in one another. When you're ready to share your story, we'll be here.
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Table of contents
22.7K
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by T-Romeo90
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It was the Summer of my 18 birthday. Sarah decided to through a party for me. I was up for it. After all she is my best friend. Her mother was going through a divorce and well Sarah was a bit down about it. She thought the party would take her mind off of it. Sarah decided on a pool party. It was set up for this weekend. My heart raced because secretly I liked her mom and seeing her in a bikini would be the highlight of the party. Well I rustled around for some cash. I worked overtime to get the right bikini I would wear. It was rainbow. Fitted my personality real well. After all being a lesbian I have to represent my colors. I was a bit shy though, all these hot women would surround me, but my eyes were on just one. It was Sarah's Mom Jenny. No one would like that idea so I kept pushing it away. She was 38 years old and her I was 18. Sarah was my best friend I couldn't hurt her feelings. I kept thinking about it. If something were to happen how would Sarah handle it? I pushed aside my thoughts for the time being as I paid for my suit and walked out. That's when I ran straight into Jenny.
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"Oh I'm so sorry. I've should watched were I was going." I said politely.
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"It's no problem AJ. What are you doing up here?" Jenny asked.
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"Picking out a suit for the party you?" I asked.
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"The same. Would you mind helping me? Sarah's working so she couldn't come." Jenny said.
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"Sure!" I said a little bit over excited.
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We headed back into the store. I couldn't help but stare. I was caught red handed by the clerk. He coughed and I looked at him. He was shaking his head. I stared at the floor as I followed Jenny to the bikini rack. She handed me a few.
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"Here hold this for me." Jenny said.
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I looked at each one and noticed that each tied in the back. They were very revealing. I swallowed hard. Damn she would look hot in any of these. I quickly pushed the thought away.
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"Follow me. I got to try those on." Jenny said interrupting my thoughts.
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I followed her and stopped at the door. I tried to hand the bikinis to her.
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"What your not coming in? I could use some help." Jenny smiled.
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I fiddled with the bikinis and I thought a bit. I stepped in to give a hand. I turned my back as she began to strip. I knew it wasn't right to look.
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"Can you hand me the black bikini first?" Jenny said.
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I turned around and did my best not to look. The damn mirrors in there didn't help any. I couldn't help it I had to stare. Her perky breasts before me. A tattoo above her right breast of a rose with thorns. I tried to shut my eyes. That didn't work to well. I looked down to her belly button ring. I finally got the nerve to turn. She must've notice for the next thing out of her mouth was:
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"Why are you blushing?" She said in a soft but yet cool voice.
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Caught red handed I didn't know how to responded. I went to reach for the knob to leave but her hand stopped before I could give it a turn. My throat ran dry. Why did she stop me? What does she want? I looked down at the grayish carpet as tears filled my eyes. Her gentle hand touched my chin and pulled me up to look at her. I couldn't speak. I didn't know what to say. I was falling for my best friend's mom. What is wrong with me? I remained silence hoping soon I would be able to go and just cancel the party all together.
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"What is the matter? There's nothing to be ashamed of." Jenny spoke in a reassuring tone.
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"Your my best friend's mom. Everything about this I should be ashamed of. The moment I meant you my heart fluttered inside. I couldn't explain it but that feeling grew. I tried my hardest to push it away. I couldn't accept the feelings." I frowned. I hated myself for having feelings for my best friend's mom.
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My tears just fell and hit the grayish carpet. Wetting my shirt on the way down.
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"Stop the crying. I know it is hard. I shouldn't even say what I am about to. My daughter is my life and the divorce was hard. It was always nice to have you to talk to. You understood completely though you never been there." Jenny spoke.
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I remembered that time we talked. It was rather cute the way she opened up to me about the divorce and how she was kind of glad it was happening but at the same time hated seeing Sarah upset drove her crazy.
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With that she stopped and looked at me. I trembled inside, could this be really happening. Here we are in the changing room. My heart began to beat faster. What is going to happen next? I tried to turn but yet again she stopped me. She pulled me into her arms. I couldn't resist. After all it was what I wanted. I just leaned against her body and felt her warmth on mine. The twenty years difference between the two of us didn't matter to me.
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She pulled me away and looked at me sincerely. With out hesistation she kissed me. I kissed her back. I couldn't hold it any longer. I feel for Jenny. I thought it could never happen but here it is. We separated and somehow I managed to smile. She smiled back at me and pressed her finger to her lips as a shh don't tell.
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She picked out the black one because I told her she looked good in it. We went and she payed for it. As we were walking out her hand slipped into mine. I didn't restrain from holding it not after what happened. I looked back at the clerk and smiled. As I saw his jaw drop to the counter.
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"Do you want a ride?" Jenny asked.
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"Sure I could do that instead of calling up my mom. My truck is in the shop and it should be done tonight. If you can drop me off there I could get it. If that's not a problem." I said.
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"No not at all." Jenny smiled.
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We headed to her car. Just as we were walking out we passed Jenna a mutual friend of mine and Sarah's. I hoped she didn't pay attention to me but nope too late.
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"AJ! Hey..."cut off in mid sentence after she realized who's hand I was holding.
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Quickly Jenny and I released hands. Blushing shamefully "What's up Jenna?" I said in a cool voice.
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"Oh never mind I will see you tomorrow at your party." Jenna said with a smile.
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"Alright see you then." I said.
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Jenny looked at me. "Do you think she will say something?"
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"I hope not." We headed again towards her car.
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"The doors open. Here give me your bag and I will put it in the trunk." Jenny said.
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Instead of just getting in I walked over to the driver's side and opened the door for Jenny.
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"Thanks but you didn't have to do that you know." Jenny spoke softly.
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"Your welcome and I wanted to." I smiled again.
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I got in and felt the leather seats suck to my legs. Moving about I tried to get comfortable. Looking out of the corner of my eye hoping Jenna wasn't watching us. We backed out of the space and she headed to the garage where my truck sat waiting.
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Staring out the window trying to sort this all out. What was I going to say to Sarah and Jenna? Will Jenna tell Sarah? My thoughts interrupted by Jenny.
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"I don't know what this means. Plus what are we going to say to everyone?" I blurted out.
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I worked as an office manager once, and it was my job to open and sort all of the mail, including packages. It was a pretty boring job for the most part, but every now and then there would be a wave of excitement when my boss’s crazy ex-wife would come in and scream at him in front of all of his employees.
So I’m doing my mail duties when an odd looking package arrives for my boss, the CEO of the company. I open it as part of the standard office procedure. I pull out some packing materials, then an item wrapped in plastic wrap.
What is this? I think to myself. Oh, a leash. Must be a leash for his dog. What’s with the metal things? This is kind of weird, I think, so let’s pull out the invoice:
“Dog collar with attached nipple clamps.”
Dogs don’t need nipple clamps, so what the shit.
I throw everything back into the box as if *I’M* the one who has just committed some horrible sin against nature. I hop onto my computer and pull up messenger and message my boyfriend. “QUICK. I NEED TO KNOW HOW TO TAPE UP A PACKAGE AND MAKE IT LOOK LIKE IT WAS NEVER OPENED.”
Tons of totally rational and then totally fucked up explanations are going through my head. Halloween is coming up soon, maybe this is for a crazy party. Or maybe my boss is just seriously kinky and doesn’t have the foresight to send these types of packages TO HIS HOUSE. I got mental images, playbacks – not pretty.
I carefully tape up the box and pack it neatly. Voila! It looks as though it was never opened! No one will touch this stuff! I sn
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