Morbid Jane: Chapter 1

I guess you could call me morbid…Is it immoral that any time I see or hear the word ‘rape’, I automatically feel a bit of rush to my crotch? Don’t get me wrong, I sympathize with the victims, and know that their lives could face a total downward plunge due to this incident; yet, it still intrigues me as to the whole mechanics of the happening. Take for instance, the whereabouts of the victim and the time of the event, and really pick at them. What clothing had she worn? Did she go out that evening wanting a lay, or simply hope to hand out a few cock-teases? Then think about what time of night the rape happened. If she happened to take her chances and walk in the dead of night in her clubbing outfit, in a large city, no less, what exactly did she expect to happen? Often I wonder if while they are being raped, a bit of a rush hits their crotch as well.
My name’s Jane, and I suppose you could call me a bit of a crank. That’s not to say I am not perfectly sane and normal, with a normal wayside apartment only yards away from the local college, a loud but normal housecat named Minnie, and a highly stressful, but oddly gratifying job as a professional daycare worker in ‘Fundlingham Heights’. Well, I guess you could consider Minnie a bit of an oddity, but the rest is normal, I swear.
I’m turning twenty-five in a matter of months, and it still hasn’t quite dawned on me that I am only half a decade away from becoming old. I don’t think I look it, quite yet though. I have had no wrinkles, liver spots, unruly veins, or even a gray hair pop up yet! Perhaps I’m thinking a bit too critically. That seems to have always posed a problem for me, especially in high-school. Come to think of it, things haven’t really changed since then, either. I held my place as just ‘that girl’, you know, ‘the weird one’.
In eighth grade our science class, on top of dissecting frogs, watched a demonstration on stitching up a woman after caesarean section. While the rest of the class turned their heads in disgust, or turned rude puns, I stood; watching avidly as they carefully stitched her up. Pregnant women fascinate me. They are living proof of sexuality, as, in a sense, we all are. Many people hide sexuality as a beastly tormentor that drives us to sin, when, in truth, sex is behind the mechanics that make up our entire existence. Everything we do is driven by sexuality and the hormones that encompass our bodies and creating this libido. We are products of sex, which are raised to have more sex, and bring about more sex-byproducts of children. We work for money, money to survive, money to purchase what pleases us and raises our pedestal; which in turn, raises the chance for sexual interaction, and more byproducts. Our instincts are truly carnal whether or not we humans want to admit it; they are simply overdressed in an evening gown of technology and caffeine, all day long.
I can’t say much for myself, though. Working in a daycare center hasn’t exactly provided me with much more than vomited-on shirts, and mother to mother gossip. My father used to call me shy, ‘his shy little pumpkin’; I guess that nickname has followed me wholeheartedly in truth, throughout my life. I admit it, I am shy; I’m a timid little kitten when it comes to interaction. Don’t get me wrong, that doesn’t mean I haven’t had my share of experiences; they have just taken awhile to fall into place. I feel this inhibited sexual tension building up inside me every day, but the limited times I have shared a bed with someone they have proven to be less than satisfactory. There’s this lioness inside me waiting to break out and let loose the sexual rage I have inside, but I will never have the ‘balls’ to actually approach and carry-out. Think about it in my perspective: if every time you tried flashing someone a seductive look, and wound up on your ass because your lack of depth perception mixed with bourbon and no prescription glasses has coaxed gravity into a bear hug; do you really think it would take long to stop trying?
The television is blaring news as I sit here on my couch in the dark, those glasses slipping down my nose, eating gummy bears. The heavy set weather-woman flashed me a grin and gave her spot back to the anchorman and woman. They chattered briskly about the NASDAQ and other stock-market foolery for a moment before it flashed to a story that immediately caught my eye. The eleven o’clock news at night usually intrigued me, but what popped onto my television screen spanked something in my brain. Even through the late hours of the night, a rally stood its ground in the Capital, apparently protesting the building and expansion of a local porn-shop into a ‘bunny ranch’; or, as most of them had written on their picket signs ‘whore house’. The anchorwoman went on to tell about the process of the shop, explaining that, if approved, citizens of the public, with scrutinizing screening, could pay for sex.
My mouth dropped spilling a few of the gummed treats. Never before had I heard of such a thing-people legally PAYING for sexual intercourse? Had the world really come that far, that it could finally legalize a form of prostitution? Perhaps not, the anchorwoman, reminded me, explaining that many in the state were appalled by the thought of legal prostitution. After which they went on to give a special report on something, I zoned out.
I felt my heart drop a few beats after hearing that. Maybe sexuality wasn’t taking a revolution, after all. After staring into my bag of gummies for awhile, I looked back up to see the special report still continuing. It was telling of the potential dangers of the city, and staying in after dark, or taking a cab. Attackers seemed less likely at that time.
I rolled my eyes and lumped myself in the corner of the couch, preparing to pass out and enjoy a day off next morning. As I finally situated myself comfortably, Minnie, that snake of a Russian blue, bounced away from the window she had been occupying and skidded her way across the wooden floor. I sat up quickly, wondering what had caused her such a fright, and decided to investigate the window.
Pulling my t-shirt down a bit farther I crept to the window and looked outside. The view wasn’t much, a few buildings and streets, and of course the campus behind us, but we resided on the outside edges of the city…in the boondocks, as they call it. I squinted my eyes and readjusted the glasses, scouring the darkness outside for what could have possibly startled Minnie. Something knocked over a can in the alley across the street and it tumbled noisily into the drain in the street. I only saw the glinting light of the can, but immediately ran to turn off the television and back to the window to shroud myself in darkness.
‘It’s probably just cats.’ I thought to myself. My racing heart told me otherwise as two black shaded figures fumbled around in the darkness. In the quiet of the night I heard mumbled squeaks, heated voices and, with a crack of the window, a few moist moans. It wasn’t an attack, simply a couple of horny teenagers having their way in the alley. I stood there for a moment more and watched them, but they never crept out of the darkness to be seen. Smart, I thought, as I gently felt between my legs. It was slightly damp and I felt a shiver run through me. How could a timid babysitter like I, ever be brazen enough to find myself in a position like that?
I furrowed my brows, and pulled out the small black notebook which contained a good amount of numbers. Some of the pages were scribbled on and barely legible, but the one I had in mind to find was clear as light. I picked up the phone and took a seat on the couch; my legs were a bit wobbly as I dialed the numbers and listened to the rings. They continued for a moment before a male’s voice answered, a little groggy…or drunk.
“H-hello?”
“Hi, um, James?”
“Yeah? Who is this?”
“It’s Jane.” I replied hesitantly, shuffling around on the couch. “Did I wake you?”
“Oh, Jane…hey. No, you didn’t wake me, I’m just here with a few friends. What you need?” As he asked, I heard a couple girls laughing in the background and another male’s voice.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, I was just wondering…” He waited in my silence. “Um, would you mind coming over for awhile?”
Silence from him now. I squirmed a little, curling my toes in anticipation.
“For awhile? What’s wrong?” My stomach churned and I could feel heat flushing to my cheeks.
“Oh, n-nothing’s wrong…I just…” I trailed off, losing all sense of thought. He seemed adamant on awaiting my full response. “Looking for some company…” I said, softly, but with no hint of seduction; just a simple almost puppy-like whimper. There was more silence then a big sigh from the other line before he began talking.
“Jane, I don’t know… We’ve barely talked since we split, and…I know we weren’t on bad terms or anything, but…Don’t you think something like that would…be uncomfortable?”
I felt tears rising up in my eyes, and kicked myself for being so foolish.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re completely right….I’m sorry.” I was silent, slightly angry, but more angry at myself…and not wanting to hang-up just yet.
“Where are you, anyway?” He asked.
“At home, like usual.” I replied, struggling to hide the whine in my voice.
“I, I’ve got things to do Jane, I’ll…call you later, ok?” I simply nodded, even though he couldn’t hear me. He hung up before I did; and I simply dropped the phone on the couch and rested my forehead in a ball of arms and knees. Feeling quite childish and downhearted I think I sat there for a good while; long enough for the operator’s voice to come on the phone, demanding I free the line. I listened to her voice for a minute before uncurling and solemnly placing the phone back on its charger.
It was a little before midnight the last time I had checked the clock and that was when I called James. Throughout high school James and I had been friends, although maybe not the closest ones; but that partially ended a couple of years after high school when he and I decided to start dating. It was the closest thing to a relationship I had ever been. The sex was ultimately the best out of the people I had overall slept with, but it’s not as gratifying a reward as one might think. But tonight I think I would have taken a vibrator out of nothing with the rushes I felt. I groaned out loud and shoved my face into my hands as I realized what a coward and complete nerd I was. I hadn’t even had the gall to buy a vibrator!
Suddenly there was a hurried but soft knock at the door. I jolted upright and for a moment sat on the couch in position, staring at the door. It came again and my stomach jumped, as did my feet. I raced to the door and let my fingers hover over the doorknob for just a moment. The whole, door-opening process was a blur, but the view outside was not. James stood there, one hand in his jacket pocket, the other behind his neck; he stared at the ground, antsy and nervous. He wore what James usually wore-his white t-shirt, black jeans, sneakers, and a beanie.
“J-James?” I whispered, wide eyed.
He looked up at me, and I blushed, severely embarrassed. I was in a t-shirt, and sleep pants with those fuzzy pink slippers everyone has. My long dark red hair was tussled and wavy, a mess at least on top of my head, and I’m sure my glasses were on crooked. Our eyes met and in that moment if that one rush we both got from that one look was static electricity…it would have been a lightning bolt.
Yeah, I know, that made total sense….But so did the amazing flying leap he made at me, while still landing on two feet and grabbing me with a force I had never seen from him before…Or anyone else in my life, for that matter. He pressed his lips against mine and I tasted toothpaste and beer, but I guess he probably tastes gummies. I let out a moan and then stopped, pulling away from him and staring him down. He let out some kind of growl and rushed me into my apartment, shoving the door shut behind him. Firmly he pressed my back against the wall behind us and kissed my neck.
“I thought you had things to do.” I breathed in between nibbles. He moved his lips up to my ears and I could feel his hot breath melt into me.
“I did. You’ve always been on the top of my list of things to do, though.”
James had never been the keen, book-smart type of guy; but he did have ambition, and a smart mouth, if nothing else.
We tussled for a minute, in a match of groping hands and hot, melting mouths, and landed on the couch in a sea of pillows and cushions. His pants were off almost as fast as mine were while he straddled my hips. We were no longer on the couch, but on the floor amid a string of pillows and gummy bears; my glasses had flown off somewhere. His hands raced up my legs roughly, fishing out my crotch and rubbing a curious thumb across my clitoral area. My back arched in a sudden jerking motion and I squeezed my hips together, staring back at him with huge eyes. His mouth plummeted down on mine and I could feel his erection through his boxers. I stopped the kissing and looked down, surprised. He had always worn briefs before, oddly enough. Matching my gaze, he followed down toward his throbbing groin and sat up, his stomach toned and tense. With a grin he looked me in the face and whipped the garments down. My heart jumped into my throat with such excitement, and my groin ached with such anticipation as his erection literally popped out, gleaming and large.
He rushed me and kissed me back down to the floor before giving a quick and slightly painful nibble to my neck. His hands were on either side of me, and I shivered as he moved his head down, further and further along my neckline. He tugged on my shirt and lifted it above my breasts, which were not large, but not unshapely either. I could see the want in his eyes as he seized a breast and eagerly brushed a tongue, then lips across my nipple. His breathing was heavy, and I could feel him trembling to continue. A prodding finger slipped down to my crotch and opened the slit. She was slick, and, as he entered a long finger into my crevice, more wet and ready than she had ever felt before.
He let out another growl and shoved his face into my neck; I grabbed his back with finger nails and all as he drove that monster of a cock between my swollen and tender lips. I let out a shriek as he lurched his member deep enough into me that I swore I would have hiccupped pre-cum. He grunted gutturally and pulled out, the tip of his dick tickling my moistened lips, and then raced it back inside. High-pitched “OH, oh, OH!”’s ran freely from my mouth every time he drove his swollen member into me. Faster and faster he thrust his dick into me, and I found myself grinding against him desperately, clawing at him to reach that final climax, and….
My eyes opened. A breath of hot air came out forcefully as he collapsed on top of me.
“Are you ok?” I asked, panicked and trying to shake him.
“Oh yeah….” He panted pleasurably.
“Uh…” Was all I could manage as he rested for a moment longer; my pussy throbbed with heat and exertion.
Finally he got up, sweat dripping over both of us, and slowly slid his penis out of me. It was drenched. I sat up, feeling the muscles in my stomach and, well, everywhere, aching and trembling. Then it came. A rush of warm and oozing came from below me and erupted from my nook. I dropped my jaw and stood up dizzily, all the while staring down as sticky gobs of cum dripped down my leg.
“Uck. Seminal fluids.” I responded absent-mindedly, and hobbled to the bathroom, leaving him in there as if nothing had happened.
He didn’t seem to mind and quickly got redressed. The room was a little more organized as I came back into the living room, having gotten another change of night-clothes. There was silence for a moment as I sat down beside him, hand sin my lap.
“Uh…hm.” Was all I could say.
He made a move and I looked, realizing he was offering me something. My glasses. I took them graciously with a smile, and put them on. His hair was tussled and dark, beanie in his lap.
“So, I guess I should be going.” His voice was gruff as he stood up, reaching to put his beanie on.
“W-wait!” I barked, extending a frantic hand toward him. “That’s it? You just…leave now?”
The beanie fit on top of his head and snuggled around his ears, and shrugged. “Do you want me to stay the night?”
I looked down. Did I? We had broken up a long time ago, and although there were solid feelings there, I didn’t mourn the loss of the relationship. It seemed to free a lot up-mostly worry…worry that we weren’t good enough for each other.
Finally I looked up with a small smile.
“I uh, have the day off tomorrow, you can crash here since it’s late.” I offered, motioning to the clock. He turned and looked. It had only been about fourty-five minutes since he arrived. A blush encompassed his face and he shook his head.
“Uh, nah…I, I’ve got to drive all the way out to Bushton tomorrow, and be there for a few hours… I sleep better in my own bed anyway, thanks though.”
I nodded and stood up following him to the door.
“So, who were the girls over at your house?”
He turned the knob and opened the door a crack.
“Oh, just a couple girls my roommate found on this new online dating website Ziggo. He begged me to come with him and meet up with them. I’m sure he’s having a blast with those two while I’m gone.”
I expected to feel a pang at what I would have once thought to be a shot, but just smiled and nodded.
“Well, if you want to stay here, the offer’s still open.” But neither one of us really took it to heart.
He gave me a kiss on the cheek and headed out the door. I closed it behind him and turned, sinking to the floor. What exactly had just happened? Had James really just given me the best, but shortest ride of my life? And what of this dating website bullshit? Curious and still tingling I toed my way toward the computer and typed in the ziggo address. Up popped message board activity, email services, and breasts, lots and lots of breasts. However while searching through the front page I found James’ picture and let out a grin. He and his roommate were grinning cheezily at a webcam as his rommate’s profile was being featured.
“What a coincidence.” I purred and clicked through his profile, reading his comments from good-looking women.
I found myself making a profile and uploading a picture of myself as it asked for. None of my pictures were ever as good as the models wearing gowns, but they weren’t completely heinous. My hair was down my shoulders, glasses slipping down my nose, plain black t-shirt and jeans.
Suddenly the computer beeped at me and I realized I had a message. I opened it to find a note from one, zerodot111. Zerodot111 had this to say:
“You are really hot! Redheads are SO sexy! R U SINGLE?”
I laughed for a moment, blushing at such an absurd comment and couldn’t even reply. After receiving a few more along the same lines, with email addresses, and corny, misspelled internet lingo, I posted my information with new confidence…
Jane
25
Female
Straight (I think)
Looking for any sexual interaction or experience.

….