Let me start by saying that I have never been raped nor have I raped anyone.
All my experience is strictly second hand, however it is extremely intimate.
Back in the mid 90s if you looked at my life on paper you might reasonably ask questions like, "What do you eat? Where do you sleep? How do you live?!"
Let's just say that you'd be surprised how long one can survive on nothing more than charm and good looks.
Now if I were to say that back then I was an accomplished tongue wagger that would most certainly be a double entendre.
Not that I wasn't also a brilliant conversationalist, the perfect party guest really, but I traced the story of love in the walls of more than one jade chamber if you follow me.
And if you don't follow me then it's pussy, I'm talking about eating pussy.
I wouldn't say that I was known for it, but the women that knew, knew the fuck out of it.n
Once, when I started dating this girl who happened to be friends with one of my exes she asked her, "Is there anything I need to know about this Eric guy?"
And my ex says, "I'm not gonna let you pick my brain but I will tell you this, he eats pussy better than any woman I've ever been with."
Now I'm not saying this to brag, but rather to let you know who it was that met this girl out drinking that night.
Back then I was quite the bar fly with strangers buying me drinks all the time, and even bartenders would buy me drinks when they were busy because I helped entertain their guests and kept 'em there drinking.
I even had some buy me drinks when they were slow just because they themselves enjoyed talking to me.
Anyway, one night at an underground watering hole that I frequently visited she came up to me.
I'll call her Lori, since that was her name, and she was a little spitfire.
She was not at all like the woman I had mostly dated before.
Most of my former lovers had been full bodied women with big tits.
Not because of any preference of mine necessarily but rather those were the girls that most often hit on me.
My thinking back then was don't hit on women, but flirt mercilessly, and the girls aggressive enough to hit on you are not only totally down to fuck, but probably aggressive in the bedroom too.
By that I don't mean violent or anything but you know, like the kind of girls who are more likely to suck cock.
I love eating pussy but sex is about power exchange so I also love getting my cock sucked by a girl who at least likes to do it.
See, I don't fuck, I make love.
Even if I barely know you, even if it's a one night stand.
I never do it with anything less than my whole heart because I know that every time could be my last, and I don't want to go out like no halfassed little bitch.
But back to the bar;
First of all she was small in stature, which I didn't notice at first sitting next to her at the bar.
However I did notice her curly black hair and the freckles across her button nose.
It also didn't take a hell of a long time for me to figure out that she wanted my attention and didn't mind buying me drinks to get it, which was my jam back then.
I only had to suggest once that I might have to go soon because I was out of money and she immediately volunteered, "I'll buy your drinks man, stay here and hang out with me!"
Now let me make it clear that I am not a complete whore.
If she hadn't been pleasant company I wouldn't have stayed.
I mean I totally would've downed a couple of free drinks but then I would have split instead of drinking with her until last call and going back to her place.
Most women in that situation take you home and fuck you stupid, at least in my experience, but not Lori.
I mean we kissed, we cuddled, it was nice, but she wouldn't go past a certain point.
But I didn't think anything of it really.
The way I saw it, and the way I still see it is, I was, ultimately, a strange guy, drunk, twice her size and weight, and in her space, whatever she did or didn't want to do, that was a okay with me because I ain't trying to make nobody uncomfortable.
The next morning after we got cleaned up I said I had to leave to seek food and she was immediately like, "Oh, are you hungry? Let me get you something to eat."
That's pretty much how it went from there.
Whenever I expressed a need she offered to fulfill it, no questions asked.
I never had to ask her to party, and she could go shot for shot with me, which for a girl her size was goddamn impressive.
Do remember that I was kind of a professional drunk at this point.
When I did work it was in the restaurant business which in Nashville meant the bar business.
I was a cook and my joke about that is, "My first chef was an alcoholic. In other words, a chef."
When it's your job to make other people's fun you need to have fun doing it so to facilitate that alcohol and various other drugs were used quite liberally when I worked in the business.
Hospitality was our business, and being in the south we always strived to be extra hospitable.
Just as a little aside, there are many things about the south that are weird, fucked up, and need to change, but the idea of being a gracious host, and a maintaining a certain level of civility and courtesy, even between enemies?
We need to hang on to that shit like grim death because that's a cultural norm worth preserving.
If you can deal with your foes with a modicum of respect you may discover a way to make them your friends, but if not at the very least you can hate each other in peace.
So Lori basically kept me, and since she paid the piper she called the tune.
We met on a Friday, spent the weekend together, and when Monday rolled around she was real casual about leaving me at her place when she went to work.
She was just like, "You can hang out here, eat, watch TV, or whatever. If you leave just lock the door, and if you want you can call me later and I'll pick you up."
It was just so cool how she let me know she wanted me there but I could walk right out and she wouldn't be mad or anything.
At least that's the way it came off to me.
By then I had met her roommate, this redheaded woman who was just as wild as Lori, and totally nice.
In fact, yeah, we all three went back to their place that first night.
At first I thought maybe it was a threesome situation but as soon as we got there it was more than clear that she'd been there as Lori's faithful wingman.
She seemed really happy to see Lori cuddling up with me, and I didn't think anything of it.
I just figured that she was a good friend, and she was, but of course there was more going on.
My make out sessions with Lori were getting pretty fucking hot and heavy, and I kind of felt something was up because sometimes when she stopped things from going further she seemed a little ill at ease.
We hadn't fucked yet, or even gotten oral, but she was paying for me and could do what she liked as far as I was concerned.
I think because of my easy going attitude and her ability to judge character it didn't take long before she trusted me enough to open up and tell me what the deal was.
Apparently she had been raped a few years earlier and it had really fucked with her head in regards to sex.
She hadn't been with anyone since then because of the trauma, and although I didn't think of it in these terms at the time I'm sure that she had some PTSD.
She asked if I could be patient with her and of course I was more then happy to comply.
The shocking part about this, besides the obvious, was that Lori was a powerful, confident woman, and she had Moxie as they used to say.
I mean she was a real pistol.
Clever, funny, and strong willed as she was it was hard for me to imagine her being anyone's victim.
I mean if it could happen to her, damn!
Not to sound too ghetto about it, but if she could get got what chance does the average bitch have?
She was so sweet and kind that the idea of anybody hurting her really made me angry and sad, but the idea that they could spoil something as wonderful as sex for her was just so wrong to me.
Talk about adding insult to injury.
It was like a shit sandwich and the bread is made of shit.
At that point it became kind of a holy mission for me.
Sex is one of the nicer things we humans do with each other so if I could help her to enjoy it again then by God I was gonna do everything I could.
So we carried on and now that I was armed with more knowledge of the situation I was able to see that I had been playing it right, but I refined my technique.
For instance, before when she'd put the breaks on things I'd back off as far as I felt I needed to in order to make her comfortable without being cold or distant.
Sometimes continuing to hold her, but even if she needed me to back way off, to where I was lying next to her, I'd still hold her hand, or touch my foot to hers, or something to let her know that I was staying with her, and it was all cool.
I still did those things but I was more aware of how she felt, and responded accordingly.
Like one time I was on top of her.
We had been kissing and kind of dry humping when she suddenly stopped me, and she really seemed kind of scared.
So I flipped us over so that she was on top of me, and then I laid my arms back in a submissive posture, speaking softly, reassuringly.
Saying things like, "It's okay baby, I'm not gonna do anything you don't want me to." and just reinforcing the idea that this was her party, and she was in charge.
There's something that's so gratifying about being able to fulfill someone's emotional needs, and although I may not be a licensed sex therapist I did some work with Lori that I'm really proud of.
Eventually she was able to relax enough to experience my oral skills, and we did have penetrative sex as well.
The first time was on the sofa in the living room.
We were making out, kissing caressing, fondling, and petting, our usual stuff, when she suddenly just said, "I want to do it?"
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'm sure." she assured me, pushing on my chest for me to get up.
She was wearing a skirt so she just slipped out of her panties.
I took my pants down, and was gonna take them off entirely, but she pulled me back down on top of her.
With my pants down around my ankles I got into position as she reached in between us, grasping my cock and guiding it into her little honey hole.
I don't know how to adequately explain the powerful mix of emotions on my side of the equation, but since I fancy myself as some kind of writer I shall endeavor to make the attempt.
First of all I hadn't been made to wait for sex by either circumstances or the girl herself since I was in high school, and even back then I hadn't waited this long.
I honestly have to say that what intrigued me from the start was that she wouldn't or couldn't consummate, and so I wanted to push the limit of that, or rather see how far that extended, if that makes sense.
Don't get it twisted though, I'm not saying that every woman wanted to fuck me or anything insanely egotistical like that.
I can't even claim a statistically significant percentage, but the women that did want to fuck me didn't muck about is what I'm saying.
They'd dive straight the fuck in.
Besides, realistically, what was I doing with my life that was so pressing?
I just felt that if she really wanted me then I'd continue to make myself available for whatever she did or didn't want to do.
After all she was good company in every single way, up to and including cuddle buddy.
So all the built up sexual tension, along with the honest affection and esteem I couldn't help having for her just from getting to know her for this short time was the base for this cocktail.
I also felt immensely proud of her for so actively taking part.
Not that she'd ever been completely passive in our sessions or anything like that.
At times she could even be pretty aggressive, but since the whole point of this exercise was to learn how to relax, and trust another person with her body again there were times when she would just lay back and let me gently explore her.
When she was done she'd let me know and we'd cuddle or just lie together.
We almost never spoke to convey this information, but rather used the touches and sounds that are the language of love, and all modesty aside, at this point in my life I was fluent in said language.
Bottom line, the fact that she was not just passively accepting me, but was actively inviting me, both verbally and physically, into her most intimate space was clearly the culmination of a process that started long before she met me.
I was grateful to be there with her, and be a part of her healing process because all we have in this life is each other, and we so often carelessly cause each other pain that getting the opportunity to consciously do the opposite is a golden opportunity.
I never even imagined that I would get the chance to use my boozing and womanizing for good so how could I not embrace this?
I was also slightly apprehensive.
This was a pretty big step after all and despite all the good work we'd done together I didn't want her to push too far too fast before she was ready.
I certainly didn't want her to feel that she needed to satisfy my desires since just being with her was a pleasure for me.
I just had to trust her judgment.
She knew better than me where she was at and what she was ready for.
Besides it wasn't as if I didn't want to have sex with her, in fact it was quite the opposite just in case I haven't made that sparkling clear.
I don't want to sound too cheesy or anything, like those romance novels my grandmother used to read, but when I entered her for the first time, once I was fully ensconced, and we were holding each other, it wasn't just beautiful, it was fucking magical.
Our relationship went on for a while, but at a certain point I was tired of being a cheap whore, which is basically what I was, no matter how nicely I try to whitewash it.
Thing is that during that time I had some hot women give me their numbers but I just never called them.
One of them even did it right in front of Lori, and when she walked away Lori just grinned at me with that cute, infectious enthusiasm.
Now that I think of it that smile had a lot going on with it, like a multilayered cocktail of winks, nods and other signals communicating a lot of complex information simultaneously.
Maybe my experiences with her had just built up my self esteem to where I couldn't live as a kept man anymore, or maybe it was just time to do something else, but that was the last time I let a woman pay my bills.
A couple of years after I stopped seeing her we ran into each other and it was awesome.
She was glad to see me, she took me out to a glamorous drag show where she knew the manager of the place, and we saw a dead on Cher impersonator.
The manager explained that their featured performer had actually gone on tour with Cher.
Apparently she'd come out doing her act, the crowd would be into it, and then Cher would enter from the other side of the stage, blowing their minds.
Of course she plied me with drinks, and we smoked some bud.
I miss her in my life but I know in my heart that she is out there somewhere being awesome, and I know that the people around her know how lucky they are to be in her life because she chooses her associates carefully.
I honestly haven't thought about Lori in years, although now I'm not entirely sure why.
I suppose I'm not particularly proud of how I mostly wasted my life during this period, but as I come to write this account some questions occur to me that I hadn't ever considered before.
I guess the main one would be did Lori know who I was before we met?
It's a fair question really because as I said I was fairly well known around the hippest bars in Nashville, and having worked at a strip club and dated a stripper who was also deep into the goth/punk/art scene I guess I had kind of a rep long before this.
Bartenders knew me, and they knew Lori.
As a heavy drinker and a big tipper she was beloved by many a bartender so if she saw me and asked it wouldn't take her long to find out about me.
It's entirely possible that she just asked the bartender at Multi-Bob when I went to the bathroom or something that first night, but knowing Lori that seems unlikely.
Either we just met, she took a chance and trusted her own judgment, or she researched me pretty thoroughly.
I have seriously never even considered it until this moment but the more I think about it the more I lean towards the later.
It just makes too much sense based on everything I know about her, especially how much she loved a bargain.
I went with her once to buy a new futon frame and she was incredibly shrewd about negotiating price, and trying to get anything extra that she could.
She was like a bargain shark.
After about the third thing she asked about the possibility of getting for free the salesperson said, "No, but you're good." sounding genuinely impressed.
We did end up getting something extra too.
Now for what she needed a sex therapist, or hell even a jigalo would have been pretty fucking expensive, but I was a comparative bargain.
Not that I would mind if that is the case.
If anything I would be even more impressed, and quite frankly flattered that she chose me.
It takes a certain talent to see someone that others regard as useless, who may even see themselves as useless, and utilize their talents.
So that's my story, and if I could have you take anything from it, that would be a new respect for the power of empathy, and a desire to practice it.
