James watched her cherry lips pop off his cock and smirked. Not even bothering to say goodnight, he rolled over in the bed and fell asleep. Irene, for that was the girl's name, just sat their, circled up into a ball and rocking back and forth, sobbing, for a good ten minutes before composing herself and heading for the room's small bathroom.
Irene turned on the shower and stepped in, letting the hot water wash away his filth and grime, and constantly rinsing her mouth to try to rid herself of the taste of her own blood, juices, and his cum. After a half hour of washing, she stepped out and dressed in a set of her more conservative clothes, then, after searching around, she located her cell phone. Stepping out into the hallway she dialed 911.
"Hello? I-I'd like to report a rape." She stuttered over her words for a moment, but was able to spit the accusation out. After the person on the other side understandingly asked her to continue, she retold the whole situation, at which point the person told her they would send an officer to arrest James straight away.
Relieved, Irene leaned back against the wall, letting the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding out. It would be okay. It would all be okay. |