A Moment of Shame :

I am a 28-year-old divorced woman.

It has been five years since my divorce.

I was too embarrassed to return to my parents' house, so since the divorce,

I have been living alone in a one-room apartment while working part-time.

The one year and one month of dating and the one year of marriage

with my boyfriend (husband) were both enjoyable and lonely, and it was a difficult time.

He was my first man,

and even now, I don't want to remember him, but I can't forget him.

Among the memories, there was a time when we were driving back from a trip,

and we parked the car in a riverside park to rest.

He said, "Let me have sex with you here just once."

It was still some time before it would get dark,

and there were people walking their dogs and mothers playing with their children in the park.

Until then, we had been intimate three or four times,

but it was always in a hotel.

"I don't want to because it's embarrassing if people see us,"

but he didn't listen and started kissing me,

touching my chest.

I couldn't get in the mood at all.

Still, he took off his pants,

and lowered his boxers.

His penis was already erect,

and when I turned my face away, he forcibly pressed my head

into his crotch and made me take his penis into my mouth.

Unable to bear it,

he then forcefully removed my panties,

lowered my underwear,

reclined the seat, and got on top of me.

I couldn't help but feel like I was being raped.

He didn't care and inserted himself into my private area.

We were both naked from the waist down.

But we couldn't hide the situation,

and there was nothing we could do.

At that moment, we heard a noise outside the car, and when we looked to the side,

three men were looking in through the windows on both sides.

We froze, not knowing what to do.

His penis slipped out,

and he moved from the passenger seat where I was sitting

to the driver's seat.

Both of us were exposed from the waist down.

From outside the window, they said, "What's wrong? Are you done already?

Keep going."

We couldn't put on our underwear or pants in front of them,

so we just hid our faces and tried to cover our lower bodies.

After a while, they left,

but our relationship became awkward, and I couldn't bring myself to talk to him anymore,

filled only with anger towards him.



A devoted storyteller, intertwining romance and desire. Loves crafting tales by the fire. Resides in a cozy city apartment filled with art and soft lighting.

Author's Stories

Related Stories

<Back to Home