Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Valerie (PG)

I wonder where Valerie is today?  *sigh*


*****

    When I was in college I dated a classmate named Valerie. She was attractive, with a sexy lopsided smile and curly brown hair that hung down below her shoulders. At 5’ 8”, Valerie was just two inches shorter than me, and at 140 pounds just ten pounds lighter. In the era of line dancing, Valerie was a two-steppin’, good-timin’ girl who filled out her Calvin Klein’s very well, and she liked the way she was my height when she wore her cowboy boots.
     
     One afternoon I was in her dorm room as she was getting ready to go to her teaching internship. An education major, she was doing student teaching at a local high school. We were going on a date later that evening, so she was dressing up a little more than usual for her teaching. I sat on her bed watching her put on her makeup, and then I lay back and stared while she put on her pink lipstick. (I’ve always had a thing for watching women apply lipstick.) As she brushed her hair, Valerie began double-checking our plans.
     
     “You’re going to be here when I get back, right?” she asked.
     
     “Maybe,” I teased. “Unless I get a better offer.”
     
     Valerie stood up and stepped over to the bed. Standing over me, her legs outside mine, she put her hands on her hips and glared down at me playfully.
     
     “Am I going to have to tie you up to keep you here?” she demanded.
     
     “You’re not big enough,” I taunted. And, based on our previous playful wrestling, she wasn’t. I always managed to escape from any hold she had tried to put on me. Nevertheless, Valerie hopped onto me, straddling my stomach, and grabbed my wrists and forced them down to the bed.
     
     “Looks like I’m big enough,” she giggled. I tried to bridge her off, as I always did before in similar situations...but with my legs hanging over the side of the bed, I had nothing to push down against!
     
     Unable to bridge, I began to use my arm strength and started forcing my right arm upward. Valerie struggled but my right hand and arm gradually rose and she couldn’t stop it...until, when my arm was directly above the center of my chest, Valerie got a brainstorm and grabbed it with both her hands. Although she released my left hand, given her position above me and the leverage she had, Valerie was able to quickly push my right wrist down toward my left shoulder.
     
     So there I was, with my right arm folded over my chest and Valerie holding it down by my left shoulder. Securing that arm with her stronger right hand, Valerie seized my left wrist with her left hand and somehow forced it down to my right shoulder. In other words, I had allowed her to cross my arms over my chest, up near my neck, and with her superior position I suddenly found that I couldn’t force my way out.
     
     Valerie seemed to realize that she had me trapped at about the same time I did.
     
     “You mean you can’t get out?” she asked, incredulous.
     
     I didn’t answer but instead squirmed and struggled.
     
     “Are you trying?” she asked.
     
     “Yes,” I muttered, kicking my legs and furiously trying to roll from side to side. With my arms crossed, I had absolutely no leverage to free myself.
     
     Valerie apparently didn’t believe I was really trying. She decided to force me into freeing myself. Still sitting on my stomach, Valerie’s knees were on either side of my ribs. A horseback rider, she had strong thighs...and she began to squeeze my body fiercely. Worse, she drove her knees into my ribs.
     
     “Stop!” I screamed.
     
     “Make me,” she taunted. “I can’t believe you’re letting a girl hold you down.” Valerie seemed annoyed that I couldn’t free myself.
     
     “If you don’t get out soon, it’s really going to hurt,” she said, frowning through her shiny pink lips. My struggling got me nowhere, she Valerie added to her punishment: she began digging the heels of her cowboy boots into my upper thighs, dangerously close to my groin.
     
     “Stop, please, stop!” I begged.
     
     At this point I began to get afraid. I was so frustrated that I couldn’t simply bridge her off or throw her off! And I was shocked by the anger my inability to escape seemed to instill in her. It was as though she was mad at me because I wasn’t being “man enough.”
     
     For several minutes (which seems like forever when you’re on the receiving end), Valerie dug and ground her knees and heels into my ribs, legs, and groin. Tears began to trickle down the corner of my eyes.
     
     Finally Valerie released my wrists. She pushed up the lacy cuff of her shirt and looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go,” she said curtly.
     
     She stared at me for a moment. SLAP! Valerie smacked me hard with her open hand. “You better be here when I get back.”
     
     I lay on the bed, silent and still, and listed to the sound of her cowboy boots click-clock down the hall.

1 comment:

  1. There needs to be a follow up to this story... Just read it. Great story!

    ReplyDelete