How could she ever trust him? He had molested her, her mother, and all her female aunts and cousins. Now her own young children were under his gaze as he watched them play.
He was quite old now sitting in a wheel chair near the children’s play ground where he could dream and fantasize. Bastard! How could she even let him near them?
Kristie’s own heart sank as she realized that this new friend was not trustworthy because of her grandfather. She would not be in the circle of women friends who traded child care on the weekends. Sadly, because she really liked Loni a lot.
Loni’s house was a mish mosh of piles of laundry both clean and dirty, stinky hamster cages, and dirty dishes. But she was delightful, lithe, and beautiful with her wispy blond hair and blue eyes. She was also a poignant thinker and philosophizer which Kristie liked. Their kids liked to play together too, so it was a natural coffee klatch.
Loni told her the whole sad story one day and explained her reasoning.
“He”s old now…. He can’t walk…. He’s harmless….”
Kristie didn’t believe it for a second. She got a sick feeling from him the first time she saw him before she even knew anything about the “incidents”. He was still very dangerous as far as she was concerned.
“What was the hardest thing about the whole ordeal?” Kristie asked her. “Was it the pain? The embarrassment? The helplessness?”
“No,” Loni said with her eyes cast down, “It was the arousal. It was the fact that I had orgasms as a result of my grandfather’s fondling.” She looked up at Kristie resolved to tell the whole story. “I thought it was my fault. I thought that I had brought this on myself for some reason. It was the shame. The personal shame of the physical pleasure.”
(First published 9/20/11)
