I was driving around in Forest Lawn on Saturday night at around 1 am, trying to find Fonda Court. I guess that because I was looking at my map and trying to read the street signs, I didn’t notice that there was a car following me. I finally pulled off the main road that I was on and then took my first left, and pulled up to the curb and put my car in park. I turned on the interior light and grabbed my map and a pen, so I could figure out where I was trying to go. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw that someone had pulled up to the curb, maybe two car lengths behind me. When the person stopped the car and turned it off, I assumed that they lived at the house they had pulled up in front of. I turned back to map to try and figure out where I was going.
Suddenly there was a tap on my window, and I looked up to see a guy standing there. I thought at first that it was the owner of the house, and he was coming to tell me to turn down my music or that I couldn’t park in front of his house. The guy was fairly young, maybe mid twenties. He was white, maybe 6 feet tall, and had long but patchy stubble on his thin cheeks. He was wearing a ball cap, and I don’t know if it was because of the patchiness of his stubble or from what I could see under his hat, but my first impression was that he shaved his head to hide his male-pattern baldness. He had a puffy, dark winter jacket on and dark jeans.
Because I thought that I was parked in front of this guy’s house, I buzzed down my window and said hello.
“Hey,” he said. “Are you lost?”
“I totally am,” I replied.
“I saw you turn around a couple of times, so I’ve been following you, to see if I could help.”
I thought it was a bit creepy that he had been following me, and I wondered how I could have been going up and down wrong streets and turning around and going back again without noticing that someone was following me.
“Maybe I can help you,” he offered. “Where are you trying to go?”
I held up my map, and showed him the street I was trying to reach. He showed me what street I had just pulled off of, and how to get to Fonda Court from there. I thanked him for his help, and put my hand on the gear shifter, ready to go.
He put his hand on my open window, as if to stop me. “Since I helped you,” he said, “can I see your tits?”
I was stunned for a moment. “No,” I snapped.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, then he opened his jacket with one hand. He stared and waited as I looked down, and saw the handle of a knife jutting out from his belt. He grabbed the handle and pulled the knife out just a bit, I guess to make sure I knew what I was looking at. I looked back up at him again, and he just nodded.
“Can I se your tits?” he said again.
I silently opened my shirt. He immediately reached in through my open car window with his right hand and grabbed my left breast and squeezed it, playing with for a while before letting go and switching to my right one.After a moment, he went back to my left breast, then suddenly reached his left hand into my car and shoved it between my legs.
I clenched my thighs together, but he had caught me be surprise, and his hand was already between my legs when I clamped them shut.
“Relax your legs,” he said tonelessly. I relaxed them slightly, and he started to rub my vagina with his fingers. He was doing it really fast while he squeezed my left breast with his right hand, and looking straight at me like he expected me to explode in ecstasy at any moment. I glared back at him with what I hoped was pure disgust and hatred, and squeezed my thighs back together again, trying to make him stop rubbing.
I don’t know what made him stop, but a moment later he pulled his left hand out from my crotch, then with one really hard final squeeze, he released my breast as well.
“So, do you want me to show you where Fonda Court is?” he asked.
“No!” I said, and reached for my gear shift and pulled it into drive, and stomped one the gas. He had blocked me in at a dead end, but there were no other cars parked around the cul-de-sac, so I shoved on my car’s 4x4 and went up on the curb to get away from him.
I hadn’t even done up my window as I drove past him, but he just stood there, watching me. I got to the end of the cul-de-sac and turned right without even stopping, assuming and hoping that there would be no other traffic in this residential area, so late at night.
He had actually given me accurate directions, which I followed at high speed. I saw lights appear behind me as I was driving, and when I pulled up to the house at Fonda Court, he pulled in a few moments after me and parked on the opposite side of the cul-de-sac. I jumped out of my car and opened the back door, trying to grab my bag and run before he could catch me and do something worse than he had already done. I don’t know why I was so stupid to try and grab my bag, but I was already so late. I was just slamming the back door shut again when i heard him behind me.
“Hey,” he called from the middle of the road. “Do you want me to walk you in?”
“NO!” I yelled again, and started to run up the hill to the house I had been stupid enough to let him help me find. When I got to the door, I didn’t bother ringing the bell, I just opened the door and jumped into the house. I looked behind me as I slammed the door again, but I could not see him anywhere.