Angel 6 (rape)
Kimmie groaned and threshed like a fish on the line as they bundled together. Angel didn’t know where to look. She concentrated on holding the glass and lukewarm drink in her hand and sipped lager and studying the seams of the white wallpaper above the fireplace.
The ginger tabby’s tail brushed against the back of her head as it stretched and jumped down onto the floor. It dashed across to the door leading to the hall, sharpening its claws on the facings and trying to paw the door. Failing to open it the tabby turned its head and meowed, waiting to get let out.
Ped sucked on the joint, but jumped up from the other end of the couch and across to the door, holding it open. The scent of sex was in the air. Kimmie was cradling his head. He got an eyeful of Billy’s hair as he pushed her bra up and to the side and was sucking on her small breast. And she had his cock out of his unbuttoned denims in her hand, wanking. His legs straightened and his body twitched. Jizz sprayed up onto her dress.
‘Gerr off,’ she pushed his head away. ‘That’s clatty!’
Billy remained unfazed, pushing his penis back into his pants and zipping his denims, with a warm smile on his face.
Kimmie rearranged her dress and bra. Looking across at Angel, ‘Sorry,’ she whispered. She nudged him with her hip so she could stand up and properly fix the straps on her dress and brush away the stain.
He looked up at her, eyes twinkling, burped loudly. Ped laughed and when their eyes met, Billy’s head twitched, almost imperceptibly, in Angel’s direction.
Kimmie held her arm out and slid her fingers down his arm. ‘C’mon,’ she sighed, her hand in his, pulling him up. ‘We’ll finish this in the bedroom.’
‘Too fuckin right,’ he jumped up from the chair, took a swig from his can of lager, bubbling over his mouth. Following her, hand in hand, they brushed past Ped as if they were invisible, kissing as they went up the darkened lobby.
On the telly, the Indian musicians ratcheted up and veiled women wept and wailed. Angela checked her bag and stood up. ‘Well,’ she spoke in an overly bright voice. ‘Time I was going.’ She pulled her jacket, tight around her shoulders. ‘Cold out there.’
‘Aye,’ he nipped in front of her and picked up the detritus of the joint, which had gone out, his hand shaking. He sucked at it, thin lipped, his eyes squeezed and wizened, like a much older man. Unable to get any life out of toke he flicked the dout towards the ashtray, but missed and it fell next to the fancy dolphin-shaped lighter on the table. ‘I was hoping you’d stay a wee bit longer.’
He reached out and touched her bare leg. She flinched and backed away. ‘Don’t, I’m not like that. I’m not like her.’
‘Sorry,’ he reached for the can of lager and gulped some down. He shrugged and cocked his head as he gawked at her. ‘It’s just, I’m a virgin too.’
She wet her lips before she spoke, not sure what to say. ‘I’m sorry about that, but I cannae help you. It’s just I need to go home.’ She tugged at her earlobe. ‘Well, it’s been nice meeting you.’
‘Aye,’ he made no move to get out of her way. He stared at the end credits rolling down the screen, blinkered, while he spoke and what he was saying, and not looking directly at her. ‘I mean, I think you’re quite beautiful, eh? I guess guy tell you that all the time. I’ll let you out nae bother, just one kiss, fer the road. That’s no too much to ask, is it?’
Her wry smile was marked by straight talking. ‘No, sorry, I just don’t fancy you.’ She shook her head. ‘Nae hard feelings, I hope.’
‘Och, aye,’ he said, stepping aside and flinging his arms up in remonstration. ‘No, I get that all the time. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles. But you really are beautiful, like a young Farah Fawcett.’
But as she slipped past him, he grabbed her wrist. ‘One kiss? For everything I’ve gave yeh?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’ She tried to pull away, her bag sliding down her arm.
But he was too strong and pulled her in close enough to smell his rancid breath. His head shot forward like a mechanical cuckoo coming out of the nest and his other hand grabbed at her skirt and pushed up between her legs.
She kicked at his shins and he howled and let go of her wrist. She snatched at her bag and darted towards the door. But he quickly recovered grabbing at her long hair and pulling her backwards, grabbed her around the waist. His hand was up under her dress again, tearing at the material, fingers up inside her silk pants. A forefinger rubbing and poking its way into her tight vagina.
‘Fuck,’ he said, licking and biting at her neck. ‘You didnae tell me you were on your dabs.’
She said nothing, but had stopped struggling. He held her wrist tightly as peeled her coat off, avoiding looking at her eyes. He jammed his hand down the front of her dress, in between slip and the metal straps of her bra and clamped her breast. He pushed another finger up inside her vagina and tugged at the string on the sanitary pad, plopping it out and onto the carpet. He tried to kiss her again, but she turned her head away and squeezed her eyes shut. He squeezed harder on her breast, making her wince.
‘I don’t mind a bit of blood,’ he said. ‘But I’m gonnae fuck you up the arse first. I’ve always wanted to try that. Knowing you, yah cow. You’ll probably like it.’
He unbuttoned his denim, pulled his zip down and pulled his hard penis out. He pushed up against her leg, grinding against her. He lifted the hem of her dress and pulled it up and she lifted her arms high into the air, like a child being undressed and let him take it off. Her white slip soon followed, crumpled at her feet. She stood her eyes still tight shut, clutching her arms over her breasts. He jerked at his cock in front of her.
‘Take aff your bra,’ he commanded.
She reached behind and unhooked her bra, and with one hand he tugged the cups at the front and she was bare breasted.
‘Take yer knickers aff noo, yah slut. I’m gonnae make you suck my cock.’
She whimpered, but did as she was told, her pants getting caught in her boots, she slipped them off too.
His fingers brushed against the light fuzz on her vagina, and he seemed mesmerised before jabbing one finger, then two and trying to force a third up inside her. He pulled her in closer and licked at one breast and then another, biting at her nipples and sucking trying to make them larger. He grunted as his other hand cupped her ass and he fingered her arse-hole trying to worm it up inside her bum. He closed his eyes, precum on the end of his glans penis.
Angel bent over and cradled his head and dipped her shoulder, pushing her breast deeper into his mouth. She had just enough leverage on her tiptoes to reach for the lighter and brought it around crashing into the side of his head. She kept swinging, again and again and again. Jiggy, jiggy, jiggy, that voice in her head. And she heard somebody howl and shrieking as loud as the whistle on the old factory gate. And she thought it was the dancers on the telly. Kimmie was standing behind her with Billy, both them were crying and Angel wondered why. The dolphin slipped from her bloody fingers and fell onto the body on the floor.