Alternate Link: AO3
Word Count: 6,200 (15,900 total)
Summary: One lonely, naive girl, desperate to be noticed, and a man clever enough to make her feel special. AU.
Warnings: Sexual abuse of a child (Molly is 12), graphic depictions of sex between an adult and a minor, pedophilia, child grooming, sexual coercion, emotional manipulation, dub/non-con, unreliable narrator. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS: I CANNOT EMPHASIZE THIS ENOUGH!
"Molly, is that you? Did you get the biscuits?"
"Just leave the change by the sugar bowl, dear."
She continued to fold tea towels as Molly sat at the table and thunked her head down on her hands. Jim hadn't been home again. Or, if he had been home, he hadn't answered. Molly wasn't given to suspicion ordinarily, but even she had a difficult time believing that he could have been out every single time she'd come by. Not when he was on holiday. She’d offered to run every little errand Mum or Dad needed that would let her walk past Jim's house in the hopes that he might walk out on the front step like he had so many times before and ask her if she wanted to come in, but he never did.
There’d been no sign of him for weeks. It had been a fortnight since he’d left that note on her pillow.
A fortnight since they'd had that awful tiff.
"Mmm." Molly watched as he moved the flannel over her belly. He'd got dressed again, she saw, in a shirt and trousers. She'd been out for a while, then. "What time is it?"
"Quarter past one."
It wasn't the answer that startled her, but the tone. There was something off about it, and combined with the way Jim was hunched over her, all stiff-shouldered with his face hidden... Molly didn't like it one bit.
"Is something wrong? You sound---" Like someone I've never met "---different."
Jim bristled. "Don’t be silly, Molly. Nothing's wrong."
You look guilty, she wanted to say, but something in Jim's voice made her hold back. Once Jim finished, she sat up. "Do you have my pants?"
He fished them out of his trouser pocket and tossed them to her. He'd smelled them, she remembered. He'd tasted her and he'd had her knickers to his face and she'd let him and no one would ever know. She was surprised to find them dry, but she supposed Jim would have washed them if he was carrying them around in his trouser pocket.
Molly tried to pretend he wasn't staring at her as she pulled them on, but she could feel his eyes like fingers sliding down her neck, trailing over her breasts and down her belly. He hid it well, but she could always feel it when he watched her; the silence was starker; the hair stood up on the back of her neck and her arms prickled with goose-flesh.
She forced herself to smile, despite his stony expression. "Do you want me to stay for a bit?"
"Do what you like."
That wasn’t very encouraging. "Are you sure everything’s all right?"
Jim threw the flannel on the floor, suddenly livid. "Why are you doing this, Molly?"
"Interrogating me," Jim spat. "Why are you asking me all of these questions? Don’t you trust me?"
Molly was baffled. "I wasn't. I do. I only wondered---"
"Just stop it, Molly. Stop it with your damned questions!"</i>
After that, Molly had retrieved her dress from the sofa and dressed as quickly as she could manage. She'd left in such a hurry, she'd made it all the way up to her room before realizing she'd left her shoes next to Jim's sofa. He'd still been holed up in the bathroom with the tap running when she left, but Molly hadn’t wanted to risk provoking him.
She could do without, for now.
"Are we having ourselves a sulk here?"
Molly forced a smile. "Only a little one, Dad. Where's Mum?"
"Oh, she's off somewhere." He waved vaguely and sat across from her. "Is this about that young man of yours, Molly?"
She didn't want to lie to him, but she couldn't exactly tell him the truth. "No, not him."
Dad reached across the table for her hand. "You know we worry about you, your mum and me."
"It's okay, Dad. You don't need to worry." Molly gave his hand a squeeze. "I'll be fine."
Everything would be fine.
After another week of lying in bed and ticking off the days Jim hadn't spoken to her, Molly was sick of waiting to be forgiven. Whatever Jim thought she'd done, which she hadn't, she could explain it. That was the adult thing to do, wasn't it? Talk about it. Converse. Keeping apart as far as they could and waiting for the problem to disappear would only drive them further apart.
Whatever it was, they could work it out. Molly knew they could.
With her mum and dad out of the house, it was as good a day as any to call a cease-fire. Besides, it had been three weeks, almost a whole month. Molly didn't think she could wait any longer than that. Not with the fall term fast approaching. She also knew for a fact that Jim was home today. His house was visible from her bedroom window and Molly had seen him open and then close the curtains not an hour before. He couldn't avoid her this time.
Molly rang the doorbell. No response. She knocked several times. Again, no answer, not that she was at all surprised. He'd been pretending not to be home so long, why give off now?
"I know you're in there," she said, meaning to be forceful but falling miserably short. Surreptitiously, she checked to see if anyone was standing within hearing range before she tried again. "I know you're in there, Jim! And---and, you're being childish. That's right. Be---" An adult? A man? Just... there? God, this was hopeless. Molly pounded her fist against the door with a cry of frustration. She hated this. "Oh, just come out and talk to me, damn you!"
The door creaked open an inch. "You shouldn't be here, Molly. I'm not a nice man."
"What are you talking about?"
"Those things I made you do. Touching me," Jim said. Molly could see most of his face now. His eyes were red and swollen. Her heart gave a sympathetic twinge. She thought he might have been crying. "It's better like this. Please, I don’t want to hurt you anymore."
"You didn't make me do anything. I wanted to."
Jim’s laugh sounded more like a sob to Molly. "You only think that because I made you think it."
"Why are you saying that?"
"Because it's the truth. You remember the day we first met? When I told you I wasn't the bad man you thought I was? I lied, Molly. I am that man. I'm very ill and this sickness..." He broke off and exhaled shakily. "I manipulated you. I made you like me."
The anger had been bubbling up inside her for weeks now, but at that, it erupted.
"Don't treat me like I'm some silly little girl!" she shouted, surprised at herself even as she said it. "Maybe I'm not as old as you or as, as lived, but that doesn't mean that I don't know what I want or that I don't know what goes on inside my own head. I know my own mind," Molly insisted, more quietly but no less firmly than before. "I know what I want."
Jim stood looking at her for a moment. "I suppose you’d best come in, then."
"Tea," Molly said. "Definitely tea."
"Just there on the hob. Are you going to make us a cuppa?"
"Everything looks better on the other side of a brew. That’s what my dad always says."
Jim drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "Wise man."
He went back to staring at nothing as Molly busied herself with the kettle. By the looks of it, it had been days since his last shave. She left him to it for the time being. She didn’t like trying to force him into conversation like this. He’d talk to her when he was ready, she told herself, even though she only half believed it. By the time the kettle had boiled, he still hadn’t said another word.
Molly set a mug in front of him. "Do you take milk and sugar?"
"I meant to get in touch with you, you know," Jim said, abruptly. "Ring you, or catch you on your way back from the shop, but every time I thought about it, it was all too much. I couldn't make the call, couldn't bring myself to call out to you." He wrapped his hands around his mug. "Not when I knew you'd never look at me the same way again, once you knew what I'd done."
"What did you do?"
Jim shook his head. "You won't forgive me this, Molly."
"I'll decide that, thank you," Molly said, primly.
If forgiveness was hers to give, she was going to do it on her own terms.
For a long moment, Jim only stared down at his mug. "After... after you'd fallen asleep there on my bed, I went back into the sitting room and your pants were just there, lying on the carpet, so I picked them up. I meant to give them back, but you looked so sweet lying there and I didn't want to wake you and I was still---" his tongue darted out to wet his lips "---still hard from before."
Jim mumbled something she didn't quite catch.
"I said I wanked into your pants." He looked at her, his eyes wide and wet. His voice rose, panicked. "I didn't want you to know, so I threw them in the wash, but you noticed and I couldn't tell you what I'd done for fear of what you'd think of me. How disgusting I’d been."
Well, that... certainly explained why he had looked so guilty, once she'd woken up. Molly did her best to keep her expression neutral, but it was difficult when the whole concept was so incredibly foreign to her. He'd... and into her pants? And she'd worn them, too, even if he had washed them.
"I told you you'd think I was disgusting. I'm a bad man, Molly. A sick man."
"No, you're not. You just... everybody does," Molly said. "You wouldn't have needed to if I'd... helped."
Jim wiped his eyes on his arm. "I suppose. Are you still cross with me?"
"Are you sure?"
"Completely. It's all right. I don't mind."
Jim gave a watery smile at that. "You're more than any man deserves, Molly. Least of all me."
"Don't talk like that," Molly said, feeling flustered. She stood, not quite sure what to do with herself. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other before plunking herself down on Jim’s lap.
The scruff from his beard tickled her face as Molly leaned in to kiss him. After a moment, Jim's hands circled her waist. Molly could barely believe how good it felt to kiss him for the first time in weeks. All the fire from earlier had gone out of her and she melted in his arms. She hadn't realized how much she had missed the way he held her, how his chest felt under her hands, the curves of his mouth. She'd missed all of it down to the last detail, even if the way Jim was kissing her now wasn't quite like the way he'd ever kissed her before.
'Hungry' was the only word for it. The only word Molly knew, at least. His hands clutched at her, his mouth wet and sharp and fierce. He nipped at her mouth, light at first and then harder. The taste of blood hovered at the back of her throat and Molly pulled back.
"Sorry," Jim said, immediately. "I bit you, didn't I?"
"It's all right." She knew he hadn't meant to actually sink his teeth into her. He'd just got caught up in the moment. "Just… softer next time."
He slid his fingers around to the base of her skull when he kissed her this time. His fingers toyed with her ponytail, deftly removing the elastic band and tossing it off somewhere. Molly didn't mind. Not at all. She'd have worn her hair loose, the way Jim liked it best, only she'd thought having her hair up made her look a bit older, more authoritative. It had done the trick, at least.
Jim kissed a path down her throat, his teeth scraping lightly against the exposed skin. "Is it terrible of me to want to take you to bed right now?"
Molly combed her fingers through his hair. "What would you do to me, if I let you?"
"Oh, Molly... I'd have you right here on this table if I thought you'd let me get away with it." Jim rubbed his cheek against the bodice of her dress. "I wouldn't even take off your frock, not after you went to so much trouble to look pretty for me," he said, his mouth wet against her neck as he slipped the straps down her shoulders. Molly didn't know when he'd had time to undo her zip, but suddenly the top of her dress had fallen to her waist. "I'd just tug your knickers down around your knees," Jim said, as he kissed his way down her chest, "and work my cock inside your tight little cunt."
His tongue flicked out against her nipple before he took it in his mouth. Molly let out a shuddering moan. She hadn’t expected to be so sensitive there. Her fingers dug into Jim’s shoulders as he mouthed at her breasts a moment longer before finally kissing his way back up to her mouth.
He swiped his tongue over her lower lip. "Have you bled yet?"
"Your period, have you got it?"
Molly hadn’t, but she didn't know what that had to do with---oh. "Are we going to have sex?"
"Something like," Jim answered, vaguely. "Stand for me."
Molly put her hands back against the table edge to steady herself as Jim helped her out of her pants. Once he’d finished, he pulled her back into his lap, her knees on either side of him. She felt him working the button of his jeans under her. He wedged his free hand between her legs, lightly stroking her with his knuckles for a moment before withdrawing.
"I wanted to make sure you were wet," he said. "But you’re always wet for me, aren’t you, Molly?"
She didn’t know about always, but she was certainly wet now. Jim sucked the taste of her from his knuckles and Molly felt a gush of fluid trickle down the inside of her thigh at the sight, wondering if she’d be able to taste herself on his mouth. He hadn’t kissed her after he’d licked between her legs.
"Here we are," Jim said. Molly could feel it the moment he pulled out, his penis wedged hotly between them. "Up a bit, that’s it. Perfect."
Molly didn’t know what they were doing, exactly, but she liked it. Jim was like velvet softly rubbing between her legs, smooth and even warmer than his fingers. He pressed a bit harder and Molly moaned against his neck, the muscles in her thighs going slack as she rested her weight against him. Jim nuzzled his face against her breasts and groaned as he teased at her with the soft, spongy head of his penis. It wasn’t inside, not really, but it was close enough to set her heart racing. There was the tiniest bit of stretch as Jim bumped against her, like he was daring her to tilt her hips and take him all the way inside.
"Careful," Jim panted. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her bottom. "Careful, now. I wouldn’t want to slip into your cunt by mistake, and you so tight down there. I’d tear you apart, Molly."
The way he said it, low and hot close, made her even wetter. Part of her wanted to tense, hold back for fear of letting Jim in too far, but it was the rest that made her grind down against him, trying to discharge the electricity his movements had built up between her thighs.
Molly sucked on his tongue while she rocked against him, building to a frenzy before she finally slumped against Jim’s shoulder, bathed in sweat and weak from head to toe. She didn’t know what it would be like when Jim came, if he came, but as it happened, she didn’t have long to wait.
Jim grunted, gave a final jerk of his hips, and then stilled. Molly didn’t know if it was her imagination or not, but she thought she could feel him trickling out against her thigh. She buried her face in Jim’s shoulder and tried to catch her breath. The sensation between her legs was a vague, syrupy mess, tinged with soreness she thought might be Jim’s fault.
"Did you come, um, inside?"
"I must’ve slipped you a bit of the head. Does it hurt?"
"No," Molly lied. It wasn’t worth making a fuss over, not after their last fight. "It just feels wet."
He kissed her shoulder. "I’ll run us a bath soon."
Molly closed her eyes and let him hold her while they both calmed down, loath to move.
"Jim, can I ask you something?"
"I wondered why you, um, with my pants? I don't mind," she said, even though she did, a little. "I'm only curious."
There was a long pause before Jim said anything. His hands traced up and down her back, absently drawing shapes and squiggles. Molly supposed he was thinking about what to tell her.
"I like girls’ pants. How they look on, how soft they are. You'd got so wet for me, I just... I liked the way they smelled," he said, and Molly felt another bead of fluid trickle down her thigh. "I liked the way they felt wrapped around my cock, with the taste of you still in my mouth. I thought about you," he told her, his hand sliding down to pet between her legs. "Making you wet again and pushing inside you."
Molly gulped. "I thought you said I was---" I'd tear you apart, Molly "---too small."
"It was only a thought," Jim said. He sounded irritated.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you angry," Molly said. "Please, Jim, I don't want to fight. We can, if you want. I mean, you can, with your---"
"It's all right, you don't owe me that. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be so hard on you," he said. "I know how hard you try for me. You're a very good girl, Molly. One of the best I've ever had."
One of the best, but not the best. Molly might have been a very good girl, but Jim's tone seemed to suggest that she wasn't good enough by half. He was disappointed with her, she was sure.
Jim was disappointed, and it was all her fault.
If he thought she was a good girl, that had to mean he wasn't cross with her.
That's what Molly told herself as she made the short trip from Jim's house to theirs, trying not to look like she'd done anything she wasn't supposed to. Jim had run her clothes through the wash, but that wasn't enough to make her forget the way he'd taken off her pants and ground against her. Molly was sure it showed on her face.
She took off her shoes before walking inside, hoping to sneak up to her room without waking her parents.
"Where have you been?"
Too late. Mum was there on the sofa, looking like she hadn't slept at all.
"Mum! I slept over, at a friend’s. I thought, I thought Dad told you."
"Your dad had no idea you were sleeping over. We were worried sick, Molly."
Molly stared down at her feet, the guilt a lump in her throat. "I'm sorry, Mum."
"Sorry isn't good enough. I've talked to your Dad and he's agreed, you're not to go out again. You're grounded."
"Do not argue with me, Molly Anne Hooper. Grounded," she repeated. "For as long as it takes for you to learn your lesson. Now go upstairs. I don’t want to hear another word from you until breakfast."
There was nothing for it but to endure it and make her excuses as best she could. Thankfully, they didn't press her for details as to who she'd been with or what she'd been doing. We don't want your excuses, Molly, Mum had said, when Molly had tried to offer at least a partial explanation. I thought we could trust you, but it seems we can't.
It hurt to know she'd disappointed them, but all the same, it was hardly fair. They were barely ever there. What was she supposed to do---stay locked up in her room all day long, waiting for them to come home? It was, she reflected, what she'd always done before. Before she'd met Jim, that was. Now that she was under house arrest, Molly didn't know how she'd tolerated it for so long. She felt she'd go mad cooped up in there with nothing but her dolls and her books and her own imagination.
I miss you awfully. Please come rescue me. JM
Molly turned her face into her pillow, eyes stinging with the bitterness of it. If only he'd come rescue her.
Five days into her punishment, Molly heard Jim at the door.
She fumbled the plate she was washing, wincing as it clattered against the edge of the sink. Not broken, fortunately. She hoped her mum hadn't heard. Molly looked between the sink and the doorway for a moment before edging quietly around the counter. Carefully, she peeked around the doorway. Jim was wearing an expression of good-natured bemusement as he chatted with her mum.
"I haven't seen much of Molly lately. She was meant to come over and help a bit with the gardening yesterday. I thought maybe she'd forgotten. Is she home?"
"She's here, but I'm afraid I can't let you see her. Not after the other night."
For someone who knew very well where she'd been the other night, Jim did a laudable job of feigning surprise. Molly couldn't help but be a bit impressed, even though he was lying right to her mum.
"We caught her coming home at three in the morning the other day. Charlie and I were absolutely sick with worry."
"That's terrible. Did she say where she'd been?"
"One of her friends from school, but she might have called to let us know she'd be late." She shook her head. "Enough of that. How've you been keeping?"
"Brilliant, thanks. I've been in Dublin most of the week. Family," he explained. "Anyway, I won't keep you any longer. I'm sorry to hear about Molly. That's no way for a young lady to behave. You can tell her that, from me."
Mum laughed. "I'll be sure to, James. We'll see you later."
Molly hurried back to the sink as her mother closed the door. Mum walked in just as she'd picked up the dishrag.
"I didn't know you'd been helping Jim with his gardening," she said.
"Oh, um, yes." Molly didn’t think Jim even had a garden. "After I apologized, I offered. To make it up to him. For being a bother."
"Well, I'm sure he'll be fine without you for a few---my god, Molly," she tutted, finally noticing the state of the sink. "You've barely washed anything! Go take care of the laundry. I’ll finish up here."
Molly didn’t need to be told twice.
Molly stepped out of the bath and toweled off with a yawn. She wasn't tired so much as she was listless, bored after spending days cooped up with nowhere to go. Mum didn't even trust her to run to the shop on her own anymore. It wasn't late, only half nine, but Molly had nothing better to do. Not unless she wanted to watch telly with her parents.
The thought wasn’t incredibly appealing.
She wrapped her robe around her and walked back to her bedroom.
"Well, if it isn't our captive princess, come back to her tower." Molly had almost begun to scream when a hand clapped over her mouth. "Shhh, don't scream, Molly. It's only me," he whispered. "It's only me, sweetheart."
All at once, she relaxed. That was definitely Jim's voice.
As soon as he let her go, Molly spun to face him. "How long have you been hiding in here? Did my mum and dad see you? Do they know you're in my room?"
Jim gave a snort. "I think I know better than to ask your mum and dad for permission to wait until you get out of the bath."
"Why are you here?"
"I thought you might be missing me," Jim said. He pouted at her, his hands coming down on her shoulders. "Did you not want to see me?"
"No," Molly said, quickly. "I mean, yes, I did. I'm just... surprised, is all."
He surprised her again by kissing her. He steered her back toward the bed, his mouth still on hers. Molly sat as soon as her legs hit the edge of the frame, Jim's knee coming down between her legs. The denim of his trousers rasped against her bare thighs as he laid her back against the bed, his tongue sneaking past her lips to lap at the inside of her mouth.
Molly curled her fingers in the front of his shirt. Jim groped at her waist tie and pulled her robe open one-handed. She jerked away, panicked.
"Wait, Jim. We can't."
He kissed a path down her chest, unaffected. "Why not?"
"My mum and dad---"
"Don't even know I'm here," he said. "They're not going to come check up on you, Molly. Not if we're quiet."
"But what if they catch us?"
"They won't, Molly. Don't you trust me?"
"I suppose. Yes."
Jim squeezed her thigh. "Then lie back for me and be very, very quiet while I lick your cunt."
Molly swallowed hard and lay back, her hair still wet against her neck from the bath. The next thing she knew, Jim had her legs over his shoulders. She was flush against his face now, his breath hot and moist between her legs. Molly dug her fingernails down into the duvet and willed herself to be quiet, breathing hard through her nose and biting her lip as Jim began to lap at her. He gripped the outside of her thighs this time to keep her hips elevated. She swallowed a moan as he began in earnest. His nose rubbed against the swollen bud between her legs as he tongued further down, between her labia.
She stuck her hand in her mouth and bit down hard as she pumped---Be very, very quiet while I lick your cunt---against his mouth. The other, she tangled in his hair. Jim's fingers tightened on her thighs, maybe in warning, and Molly flopped back against the bed. Sweat poured off her with the effort to keep still and quiet enough not to disturb her mum and dad. She thought she could her her parents' programme playing downstairs and inexplicably, the thought sent a little bolt of pleasure between her legs.
She didn't want to be caught, but the thought that they could be, potentially, seemed very exciting.
After a while, Jim's fingers replaced his tongue. Molly tried to quash it, but she couldn't help but be a little disappointed. She liked his mouth on her and he hadn't even let her come. His fingers were nice enough, though, she supposed. He ran them up and down her, swirling around where she was leaking, before he slid his thumb inside. The shock of it made her grunt, not very loudly, but enough to make Jim remind her that she needed to be quiet.
The soreness from the other night had already faded, but she still felt a slight stretch at his thumb breaching her. He pulled back and Molly let out a long, shaky breath.
"All right there?"
"Fine. I'm fine."
"Good," Jim said, "because my prick is a lot bigger than my fingers."
"Your, oh. Mmmm." Molly pressed her lips together tightly as Jim pushed two fingers inside her. The slight stretch became a twinge of pain and Molly squirmed against his hand.
"Breathe, Molly. Be a good girl for me. I know you can take this."
Molly gave it a go, but she couldn't relax, knowing Jim was prepping her for sex, that he was going to be inside her. His fingers worked in and out of her, but it didn't feel good the way his mouth did, or like it had when she'd rubbed off against his penis.
"Jim, I don't know if I want to," she whispered.
He didn't seem to hear her, but Molly didn't know if she wanted to risk speaking any louder. She tried to focus on her breathing, on how happy she was to see Jim---anything but the way he was stabbing at her with his fingers, stretching her and twisting inside her. Maybe it was always like this the first time. She was a virgin, after all, and even if Jim did have small hands for a man, they were still much larger than hers. He was probably being as gentle as he could be with her.
It wasn't much, but the thought calmed her a bit as she waited for Jim to finish. After what seemed an eternity, he did.
Molly sat with her back to the wall, her robe still on as she watched Jim remove his shoes and socks. His shirt went next, and then his jeans, before he stepped out of his pants. His cock jutted up between his legs, hard and purple and even bigger than Molly remembered.
"It won't fit," she blurted out, her thighs clenching automatically. "It won't. I want to stop."
"Relax, Molly, everything will be all right," Jim said. He knelt in front of her on the bed and grasped her face in his hands. "Look at me. You trust me, don't you?"
"Don't you want to make love with me?"
A few nights ago, she had, but now she wasn't so sure. "I don't know, Jim, can't we---"
"Shhhh," he soothed. "It’s normal to be nervous. That’s all this is, Molly. I'll tell you what---if you don't like it, we can stop."
"Do you promise?"
"I promise. Now, let's get you out of that robe. Will you let me help you?" Molly nodded and let him set it aside before he pushed her gently onto her back. "Are you comfortable?" She nodded again. "Good, you're such a good girl. Now put up your knees for me. That’s it, nice and wide. I can turn the light off if you need me to," he said, gently. "Would you prefer that?"
"Please," Molly said.
She thought it might be easier in the dark, but as soon as Jim switched the light off, Molly whimpered. Jim was there in an instant, kissing her and petting her to calm her down. Gradually, she relaxed again, her eyes adjusting to the dark. Jim's skin felt hot against her own, the hair on his legs and chest and between his thighs tickling at her as he carefully rested his weight on top of her.
He rubbed at her with his fingers, coaxing her open, and peered down at her. "Are you ready, Molly?"
If she didn't say yes now, she never would, and she didn't think she could handle Jim being disappointed with her again. Everything would be fine, just like he promised. Molly curled her arms around his neck and settled against his shoulder. She felt the head of his penis rubbing at her.
I'd tear you apart, Molly, Jim had said. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, waiting for it.
When it finally came, she was underwhelmed. It wasn't awful, but neither was it fantastic. Everything blurred into a single dull, vaguely painful sensation. She squeezed her muscles, experimentally. Jim grunted and surged forward. Molly let up immediately when the dull ache shot up through her pelvis like wildfire.
"The first time always hurts a bit, but the worst part's past," Jim assured her. "Just stay loose for me, play with your cunt a bit if it helps. I won't be long."
Jim started to move and Molly clutched at his back. This was sex, she thought. It felt surreal, like it was happening to someone else. It wasn't much like it had been when she'd thought about it on her own, which had been intimate and exciting and had made her wet between the legs. The Jim she thought of when she played with herself was tender and moved his hips slowly, to make sure she could handle him.
This Jim wasn't anything like that. This Jim grunted every time he pushed into her, each sharp snap of his hips making her dig her knees into his sides. This Jim didn't even kiss her.
"You're so tight." His saliva dripped onto her shoulder. "God, how I've waited for this, Molly. I've dreamt of your wet little cunt for ages, of having you like this."
It was easy to tune him out as she lay there, focusing on anything but the slap of his skin and the sticky, heavy feeling pooling between her legs. Play with your cunt a bit if it helps. She could barely feel him anymore, though she could hear the squish every time he thrust back in. Molly's gaze wandered over his shoulder and stuck immediately on the top of her wardrobe, where she'd set up her dolls. She counted them while Jim fondled her breasts. Dad had bought her one every year for her birthday since she was five. They stared back at Molly with vaguely accusing eyes as Jim rammed his penis inside her, again and again.
His last thrust made Molly wince and then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Jim was panting as he rolled onto his back. Molly thought it had only lasted a few minutes, maybe even as few as two, but she hurt everywhere.
She felt down between her legs and moaned pitifully as she felt the swollen tissue. Her hand came back sticky and dark. Molly wiped her hand on the sheets. "I'm bleeding."
"Are you?" Jim groped between her legs for a moment. Molly squirmed. "Plenty of girls bleed the first time."
"The other girls you've slept with," Molly said. "Did they bleed, too?"
Jim's eyes narrowed. In the dark, the impression reminded Molly of a snake. "Some of them."
The numbness was beginning to wear off and she could feel the damp patch under her. Molly rolled away from it. Jim spooned up behind her, either not noticing or not caring that she'd bled all over the spot where he was lying.
"You're angry with me."
"No," Molly lied. She could feel his semen dribbling out of her. "I’m not."
"Don't lie to me, Molly," he said, sharply. She started at the sound of his voice, like he’d cracked a whip at her. "If I hurt you, I’m sorry. You know I’d never hurt you on purpose. I love you, Molly," he said, tenderly. "Whatever anyone else tells you, I love you. You know that, don’t you?"
She did know. That was what frightened her.
After Jim sneaked back out, Molly stuffed the sheet under her bed and tried to forget about it.
Mum found it along with a bloody pair of knickers, two days later, while looking for the pair of trainers she’d never remembered to go back for. They sat at table, Molly’s hands wrapped around the mug of tea Mum had made for her. Peppermint, not the usual plain, black Tetley, for the cramps she was having.
"Well," Mum said, after a long moment. "They did tell you about this, didn’t they? When that woman came to your school?"
"Good, well, that’s sorted, then." She patted Molly’s hand, slightly awkward but on the whole quite warm. "There are sanitary towels in the bathroom cupboard, so you go right ahead and help yourself, dear."
They lapsed back into silence. Molly swirled another spoonful of honey into her tea for something to do. She’d already found the sanitary towels after Jim had gone, once she’d cleaned up and realized she was still bleeding. Toward the end, there’d been stringy white bits mixed in.
"I suppose I ought to stop thinking of you as my little girl, now that you’re a woman," Mum said, suddenly. Her smile was sad, but proud, too, Molly thought. "You’re growing up so fast, Molly. And with your Dad and me so busy all the time…I feel like I’ve missed so much of it."
Molly thought of Jim rutting into her, and forced herself to smile.
"It’s all right, Mum. Sometimes I feel the same way."