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The school year finished and all remained calm. Frank had been rumbled at from people claiming to be scholastic officials. They were strangely lacking...the proper credentials or educational training to evaluate any school. They were firmly and politely escorted away. Jenna insisted on vetting anyone she didn't know through Frank. We never lacked for police protection. Stan and Irene saw to that. A number of our teachers had permits and carried weapons. Even more were trained in hand-to-hand. We talked about school and he asked me if I liked boys. I blushed and he took the opportunity to tickle me, asking me to “spill the beans”, but his hands went under my shirt as I wiggled on the bed. Before long, he was groping my tiny breasts. I remember every word he threatened me with when I accused him of molesting me. “Dolly, you will allow me to do whatever I want with you. This includes touching you and even fingering your pussy if I wanted to. If you disobey me even once, and I get. The blood was rushing in my ears, and I remember we stopped a few times for hot, groping kisses behind parked cars and street corners. After he let us into his small apartment, I vaguely noticed how neat it was, and then I was partly-led, partly-carried, partly-dragged into a bedroom where an unmade cot sat invitingly in a corner. We fell onto it in a heap, his hands all over me, grabbing at buttons and zippers, clumsy with passion, lips hot and red from the kissing and nipping. I was divested. I had recently turned twenty and was still living at home. My dad and I just had a big squabble over the fact that it was six–thirty Friday evening, I was getting ready to go out on my first date with the hottest cheerleader in school, who was now no longer ‘jail bait’, and dad demanded that the lawn had to be mowed that night. Tomorrow morning at nine o’clock would simply be too late. It must be done tonight. Hell, at that time tomorrow, he’d be on the fourth or fifth hole on the golf course..
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