The masturbation in the car was bizarre, fun, exciting, a rush, scary although in the dark, I thought I was sick, crazy, needed counseling, everything...was running in my mind. I even started thinking about those who are voyeurs. Gosh people, not sure it’s healthy but who gives a fuck, it was fun. Being seated with pants, my hand wouldn’t reach my total surface clit for a fast speed rub relief. I had a hard time opening my pussy lips to have full access so I decided to open up my legs a little. I noted there was still a bottle just opened so I poured myself another and sat on the brick wall, shivering as the cold found its way into my bare ass, through the thin material of my dress.Suddenly a beam of light cascaded onto us as we sat, it came from the toilet attendants room and there he stood in the window, looking us up and down.The curtains were drawn again and within minutes he was out beside us, a man in his 50's fat and uncouth, and he stood in front of me and said, 'Hows about. I think, for her, it was almost like a continuation of her therapy: one that allowed her to begin to normalize relations with the male half of our species. While she had mostly recovered, emotionally from the rape, afterwards she had found it difficult to communicate intimately with men. As a result, she had not accepted any dates since that night.I didn't push her for the names of the perpetrators, although I desperately needed to know if I were going to be albe to take any kind of action. I. Indeed, until that time he'd never even kissed a girl, though there'd been the odd time when he fancied he'd been close. But nothing he could ever be sure about. He was always very awkward with girls.In fact, he was awkward with everyone. He only had a couple of friends, Pete and Stu, who sometimes came to see him, as he would visit their homes. On these occasions, they would crank up the stereo, put on their Scorpions, Metallica or Nirvana CDs, and mime wildly in front of the mirrors.