Dangerous Times

Dangerous times

Most people think that they are immune to travesty of crime and that tragedy only happens to someone else. I can attest, that is not true and that everyone has his or her turn in the barrel so to speak.

Depending on the extent of the crime, the ability to look past and move forward is handled by an individual’s personal way of dealing with it.

Mine is different than yours for example. So if you do not like my way…too bad.

My turn in the barrel happened at the cusp of my fortieth year. A year and a half after my husband and I became estranged. We are not divorced, but separated. He is living in what used to be our cabin in the north and I took over the house near the city. Our two children split their time between us at their own leisure, but most of the time they are with me as they are still in school. Ben just turned eighteen and Sammy, she is now sixteen.

The separation is probably my own fault, but I am not sorry, as I would do it all over again most assuredly. Rick’s little brother was just too tempting and I was just too reckless to care. The short, but hot affair pretty much blew up the family. From my standpoint, it was worth it.

Unfortunately, us getting caught ended the affair too. But it opened the door to the uninhibited expansion of my own desires and partners as Rick and I now did not share the same environment. Funny thing is, after a half of a year uncomfortable stretch, Rick and I are more conversational friends than when we lived together. Go figure.

That all being said, it was the spring of this year when both kids had their spring break that I made plans to visit my parents condo in Florida. Sammy did not want to go, so she was going to stay with Rick, but I managed to con Ben to make the journey south with me.

Totally honest, I had not one malicious thought in any way or form. I figured it would be a two to three day drive down, taking my time, since my parents would not be back from their vacation until the middle of the next week.

We began our journey on a Friday. Barely went a hundred miles or so to the south side of the large city in the state just below us. It is a city that is known for it’s violent crime…still I had no concerns because it happens to everyone else and not me.

So I thought.

Ben and I got off the highway by a shopping center to grab some refreshments and stretch our legs. Ben pointed out that there seemed to be a lot of seedy looking characters hanging out near the entrance. I pooh-poohed the contention.

Completely oblivious to anything possibly happening as Ben and I purchased our stuff, went back to the car where I decided to let Ben take the next turn at the wheel.

We had barely pulled out of the parking lot when black arm reached around my neck and felt a hard object against my left temple.

I was so startled, that my body did an involuntary jump, enough to see stars from the impact against the hard object against my temple.

Managing to turn my head slightly, I could see Ben’s overt expression of fear, his eyes the size of saucers.

The object against my head pulled back slightly and allowed me to see the object. It was a shiny revolver being held by a black kid around the same age as Ben.

I started to say, “You don’t have to…”

But then was cut off by the interloper, “Shut your mouth honky bitch…you open it again and I’ll…”.

My mind finished his statement for him “blow your brains out”, but that is not what he said.

“I’ll shove my black cock so far down your honky throat you’ll feel like it is coming out of your cunt!”

Oh shit, I thought, how am I going to get out of this. I had inadvertently reached into my purse and grabbed one of the wads of money rolled up thinking I could just give him the wad and he might just leave. But, his reference to…uh, shoving his cock down my throat, added to this just being a possible robbery.

He turned his attention to Ben, “drive where I’s tell you or I’ll do this bitch right now.”

He paused and then asked, “This bitch your ma?”

Ben nodded.

“Drive to the next block and make a right up the alley” the kid with the gun directed.

His arm relaxed around my neck and then he shoved his hand down the front of my blouse.

“Ho fuck bitch…nice tit…these real?” He squeezed my left breast through my bra and then pulling my bra down he fondled my bare tit.

Ben almost hit the curb; a combination of fear, confusion, and anger spread across his face has watched the criminal squeeze his mother’s tit.

An emotion of fear, revile, and embarrassment waved over me along with a sense of helplessness…I had absolutely no idea what to do except I did not want this kid to harm either Ben or me.

“Oh man…yo tit is still firm bitch” he squeezed it hard, “hey bro’ you get a chance to feel these tits?” directing his comment to Ben.

Ben’s face was red with anger and he did not say anything.

“Pull into this garage”, the bastard nodded in the direction of an old dilapidated garage with no door on it, behind an even more dilapidated old house that had to be abandoned.

Ben pulled in and stopped.

“Gimme the keys and walk in front of us…we are going into my cave, up the stairs and into the bed room”, he directed while quickly exiting the car and opening my door pulling me out.

My blouse was ripped and with my bra pulled down my left tit was out in the open. The movement probably caused Ben to look right at it…I went to cover it up but the asshole grabbed my wrists and put them behind me.

He had the gun pushed directly into my back, using it to steer me in the direction he wanted.

I hoped that someone would see what was happening in broad daylight. The windows of all the homes around were so dirty I wondered if anyone was there or if they could see out of them. Guess it did not matter because we were in the house before I could even think of making a commotion.

“Up the stairs…GO!” the kid demanded.

When I made the third step…the asshole thrust his hand up my skirt, grabbing my vagina through my panties.