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01 Temmuz 2022, 15:58
Ophelia Pennywise was not someone you would consider beautiful, but at first glance, ?plain? was the description that came to mind. She had a pretty, angular face with high, sculpted cheekbones. Larger than normal brown eyes, and an aquiline nose, would have given her a regal look were it not for the fact that she never wore make-up. Lips that had never seen lipstick surrounded an interesting mouth that seemed to naturally pout regardless of her mood. All of this was framed with lush but mousy brown hair that fell mid-neck. If one looked long enough one would see traces of a young, dark haired Catherine Deneuve. What people didn?t see however, was what she constantly hid under too large and loose fitting clothing; a slender and shapely body. Tighter clothing would have revealed well shaped breasts and hips. Long arms and legs gave her a smooth gait when she walked. Though, you couldn?t really tell under the collection of drab gingham dresses she preferred. Since she didn?t venture out too often, her pale skin gave her a somewhat sickly look. Overall, in spite of her downplayed attributes, she was not someone likely to get a date on a Friday night. When she walked down the street, no men turned to look at her appreciatively. The only looks she got were those of questioning curiosity or ?what is it?? looks as she called them. Ophelia felt that she was not a looker nor would she ever be one. She was resigned to the fact that she was destined to live the life of a spinster. She would soon turn forty, so she was well on her way with very little chance of any love possibilities. To her that was not necessarily a bad thing. She wasn?t burdened with the responsibilities that came with being pretty and desirable. She didn?t need to spend hours in the gym maintaining her figure and she ate what she wanted, when she wanted. The only thing that showed this was a bit of a pot belly she had from too many Ho Hos. She kept her own hours and didn?t need to worry about calling anyone to tell where she was going; she just went. Any desire for her to have children vanished long ago. And sex was, she had found out, entirely overrated. For her, excitement was a great Sci-Fi novel, a glass of white wine and chocolate. Not anything one would consider earth-shattering excitement. But such that it was, for Ophelia it did the trick. She was the only child of John and Ruth Pennywise. He was a simple farmer and she was the domineering daughter of a Presbyterian preacher. Ruth never seemed pleased that Ophelia was around. From as early as Ophelia could remember she felt like she didn?t belong. Her mother made her feel as if she was a guest who had overstayed her welcome. Her father on the other hand showered her with love and affection that more than made up for her cold mother. He always doted on his daughter when his wife wasn?t around to brow-beat him about spoiling the child. Ophelia loved him and always looked forward to the time they spent together after he came in from tending his fields. The two of them would go for long walks together out in the back forty where a small creek meandered its way through the Nebraska farmland. It was a special time together that she always cherished. He was a ruggedly handsome man with broad shoulders and a shock of thick black hair. When he smiled, which was rare, his hazel eyes sparkled. Ophelia thought they looked like two twinkling stars. A bullet wound he received in Korea had left him with a slight limp, but sometimes when his leg wasn?t too sore, he?d carry Ophelia high up on his shoulders. Ophelia always sensed something was wrong with her father though. When he thought almanbahis (http://almanaffiliates.com/) she wasn?t looking, he had a look of infinite sadness on his face. She wasn?t sure what that was about. She figured it had something to do with her mother. Ruth Pennywise would have been considered the polar opposite of her father. For all the energy he put into nurturing his daughter, Ruth Pennywise went with the same energy reminding Ophelia that children should be seen and not heard. The strict Presbyterian code that she lived by had never allowed her to show much affection for her daughter other than a rare pat on the head when she said her bible verses with no mistakes. She was severe in dealing out rebukes for any and all perceived transgressions. Ophelia could never do anything right in her mother?s eyes other than memorizing bible passages. Her mother and father didn?t really seem to love each other. They never touched or held hands the way other parents did. Her mother was always nagging her father. Whether it was about paying the help too much for the little work they did on the farm or for allowing Ophelia to laugh a little too much, she was never pleased with her husband. One of Ophelia?s first memories as a child of this was when playing on the swing set in the yard. Her mother had called her in for supper in her terse baritone: ?Opie come wash for supper.? Even at that age she hated being called ?Opie? and she thought that?s why her mother called her that. To her Opie sounded like a boy?s name. Her father once told her she was named after a song but her mother told her she was named after a crazy woman. Regardless, she didn?t like it. No did she not like the name Ophelia at all. She pretended her name was something else and that she was a Princess with a stable of white ponies who had names like ?Sunflower? and ?Rose Petal?. Ophelia remembered going inside the house that day and seeing her mother disheveled and out of breath. She looked at her daughter disapprovingly and told her to go and wash as she was dirty. She was always dirty. A dirty girl. ?You?re such a dirty little girl, Opie. Go and wash yourself,? her mother would often say. When she entered the house to wash, she saw her mother leaning against the counter with a wild look on her face. As she was walking past, saw her father sitting on the stairs with no shirt, his head buried in his hands. He looked as if he was crying. She looked away and kept walking thinking about how scared and confused she was by what she had seen. A normal day for Ophelia began as it always did; at six am sharp. She worked as a back office clerk at a bank a few blocks from where she lived. And although the job was one even she considered to be mundane, it suited her mundane lifestyle. There was no stress. She didn?t have to speak to anyone in order to do her job and people pretty much left her alone. She awoke as she always did, on the right side of the bed. Swinging her legs over the side, she pushed herself off the bed and up. Arching her back she looked at herself in the mirror and swayed her hips back and forth feeling her back crack as she yawned her way into the shower. The warm water cascaded down her body. She scrubbed her soapy body vigorously as she always did, never missing a spot. As she worked her way down her thighs she thought about using ?The brush? but didn?t allow herself more than a passing thought at this. ?The brush? was only for special occasions. And besides, she didn?t want to be one of ?those? people who had sex on their minds constantly. Sex was dirty and she didn?t like being dirty. ?Hmmph, sex,? she thought. Not at all what it?s cracked almanbahis yeni giriş (http://almanaffiliates.com/) up to be if her first time was any indication. The first and only sexual experience she had hurt and took way too long. The thought of him of him sweating and grunting on top of her like he did, usually sent a shudder through her entire body. Thank god she doesn't have to do that all the time on a daily basis, she thought to herself. But, occasionally she let herself ponder what if it could be different? When she did so she felt a familiar twinge ?down there?. Her mind drifted. She closed her eyes and thought back to the date she was talked into going on by friends. Looking back she can admit to herself that she had been looking forward to it, and spent hours thinking how it would go; how he would understand her and how they would fall in love and get married and how she wasn?t dirty. When they first met, she thought he was very good looking and nice.*She didn't usually drink all that much, so the four glasses of wine that he insisted they each drink made her a little woozy. Unsteady on her feet, he had walked her home.*When she got to her door, she fumbled in her purse for her keys. Opening the door she turned and asked: ?Would you like to come in for a cup?? Before she could finish her sentence he brushed past her into her house. She was a little put off, but followed him in. Once inside, he pulled her towards him and roughly and kissed her.*Not soft, gentle kisses like in some of her books but hard, rough kisses. He forced his tongue into her mouth. His breath smelled sour, of whiskey and garlic. When he started to bite her lips she pulled back hoping he?d get the message to slow down a bit. Immediately he yanked her towards him and grabbed by the hair and pulled. She gasped at the sensation tingling sensation that ran down her back. She returned his kiss as best she could. He was the first man she?d ever kissed before so it was all new to her. He ran his hands down her back and with each of his hands he squeezed her ass. Her heart began to beat faster. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned softly. One of his hands came round to the font of one of her legs and came up and under her skirt. She gasped at the touch of warmth on the front of her thigh. His hand came up with deliberate intent and cupped her swelling pussy. ?I bet you are really wet?" he breathed in her ear. ?Let?s see.? With that his hand came up her belly and slid into her panties where his fingers deftly stroked her slit. He picked her up and carried her to the couch. With one free hand he released his cock from his pants and positioned himself on top of her. Pulling aside her panties he placed his cock against her very wet pussy. Ophelia looked down and gasped as she saw the purple head of the man?s cock part her labia. She threw her head back as it started to slide inside of her. An uncomfortable pressure inside her made her feel as though his cock was huge. ?This is it. It?s happening,? she thought. His thrusts were hard and caused her head to hit the back of the sofa. He wrapped both his arms completely around her so she was totally immobile. His breathing was loud in her ear. He started to chew on her earlobe which caused strange sensations. His breathing came faster and she felt his body tense. He suddenly got up his knees pulling himself out of her. She looked down and saw him furiously jerking himself back and forth. His head was thrown back and he was grunting like a wild animal. She could have got up and ran but she lay there mesmerized by the scene before her. She wondered how his cock was able to almanbahis giriş (http://almanaffiliates.com/) take such punishment. He let out a loud groan and ejaculated all over the front of her dress. She had never seen such a thing in her life and was in awe. Long strings of white goo shot out of the end of his penis like some kind of cannon. When he was done he grinned at her and he zipped himself back up. ?Can?t take a chance and have a little one running around,? he laughed as he got to his feet and zipped up his pants. It was clear he was completely pleased with himself. Ophelia just stared and was unable to say anything. ?I?ll call you,? he said as he walked out the front door leaving her there disheveled with her best dress splattered with semen. She dabbed her finger in the splatter on the front of her dress and brought her finger up to her nose. It had a musky, pungent aroma that reminded her of an old closet. Feeling empty and cheated, she got up and went into the bathroom to clean herself. ?Opie, you must never give in to those types of feelings. They?re a sin,? she remembered her mother telling her as her mind drifted. ?The bible says relations are for a man and wife. And only for the purpose of bringing children into this world, nothing more. It?s a filthy thing Opie,? her mother admonished. Part of her agreed with this sentiment. She remembered seeing firsthand what all that sex had done to her cousin and how everyone had called her ?whore.? Part of her though, longed to understand the feelings that she had sometimes. And maybe even experience them once again. But properly next time and with someone she cared for and was in love with and who was also in love with her. But, she thought, she would have to have a man for all of that. And a man wasn?t in the cards for her. The rare time she did have these feelings she would wash herself with ?The Brush?. ?The Brush? was a house warming gift from her aunt. Had her aunt known what it was mostly used for she would likely have a conniption followed by a coronary. Ophelia giggled at the prospect her seeing what her aunt would do when she found out that the beautiful horse hair scrub brush her aunt had given her was used to give her the most delicious orgasms. It was this one rare, guilty pleasure that she allowed herself. She decided long ago that if she were going to go to hell because of it, she may as well enjoy the ride down. She turned the water off and got out of the shower. Toweling herself off she padded back to her bedroom to dress. Taking an apple from the fridge, she hurried out the door and into the morning sunshine. She walked the six blocks to the bank in her usual twenty minutes. The sudden change in temperature when she entered the bank made her shudder for a moment. She made her way to the back of the bank saying ?good morning? to her colleagues, then down a single flight of stairs and into a small room where her desk was. She turned on the light and sat in front of her computer realizing how lucky she was to have the solitude and not have to listen to the constant droning of customers and employees. She finished off the rest of her apple, tossed the core in the waste basket at the side of her desk and switched on her computer. The day went like it did every day; slow, boring and uneventful. Lunch and the afternoon walk she usually took when the weather was nice were the only highlights of her day. This day the sun was bright, hot and felt good on her face. When three o?clock came she shut her machine down, pushed her chair in and left the way she came in only this time with ?goodbye? and ?see you tomorrow? to people who barely knew she was there. Outside, the sun was still hot and the temperature hadn?t seemed to change. Rather than go straight home she decided that she wanted to stop and pick up a new book at her favourite bookstore ?Elliott?s New and Used Books? on Elm Street.