Darryl is still there

Darryl is waiting for you with a cup of coffee that chases away the last traces of **** in your system. With nowhere particular to go and no clue what to do next, you sit with him sipping your drink and chatting. Well, mostly he chats, gripping about his job and the state of the world between staring at your legs and chest. You would be embarrassed but you hardly notice, your mind is elsewhere.

You are trying to think of a way out of this mess or failing that a way to live as you are without a home, any money or even valid ID.

Suddenly you are aware the Darryl has fallen silent “Shit he asked me a question.” You think.

“Uh. Sure?” You say trying to sound noncommittal.

You realize your mistake as he leans in and kisses you full on the mouth. You taste stale coffee and cigarettes as he leans into you, pressing the bulk of his flabby body against you. For a moment you are too stunned to react, you simply freeze. This is so completely outside of your experience you have no idea how to respond, you could tell him, no and maybe he'd accept that if he wasn't trying to put his tongue down your throat. Part of you wants to fight him off but he is so much larger than you now. You'd always thought of him as a bit of a sad sack, it's alarming to realise how frightened you are of him now. For a fleeting moment, you even consider giving in to him. After all, he has been very kind, maybe you owe him.

While you hesitate Darryl obviously takes your lack of resistance for acceptance, he puts his arm around you and slides his hand down your back to settle on a patch of bare skin just above the waistband of your skirt.