Tanner still wasn't home when I got back. A little too much fun with his buddy, I guess. It actually met my needs. After what happened, I didn't really want to see Tanner right away. I was a little sore and a lot guilty. Everyone told me not to feel guilty because my rapist made me orgasm, but my body's betrayal of all I held dear was deeply disturbing. To cum was bad enough, but begging to be fucked even worse. No matter if my friends said I was experiencing normal responses to sexual stimuli, I had a hard time not thinking of myself in the worst possible terms; a...