Let me part by saying that I have never been raped nor have I raped anyone.

All my experience is strictly second hand, however it is extremely suggest.

Back in the mid 90s if you looked at my animation on composition you might reasonably ask motion like, `` What do you eat ? Where do you log Z's ? How do you last ? ! ``

Let 's just say that you 'd be surprised how long one can go on nil more than charm and good looks.

Now if I were to say that back then I was an realised tongue wagger that would most certainly be a double entendre.

Not that I was n't also a bright conversationalist, the consummate company guest really, but I traced the story of love life in the paries of more than one jade chamber if you follow me.

And if you do n't follow me then it 's kitty, I 'm talking about eating pussy.

I would n't say that I was known for it, but the womanhood that knew, knew the screwing out of it.n

Once, when I started dating this female child 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 gon na let you pick my wit but I will tell you this, he eats pussy better than any womanhood I 've ever been with. ``

Now I 'm not saying this to swash, but rather to let you screw who it was that met this lady friend out drunkenness that night.

Back then I was quite the bar fly with unknown buying me drinks all the clip, and even bartenders would buy me drinks when they were busy because I helped entertain their Edgar Guest and kept 'em there drinking.

I even had some buy me drinking when they were decelerate 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 picayune spitfire.

She was not at all like the woman I had mostly dated before.

Most of my former fan had been fully 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 do n't hit on women, but flirt mercilessly, and the girls aggressive enough to hit on you are not only totally down to make love, but probably aggressive in the bedchamber too.

By that I do n't mean violent or anything but you know, like the kind of missy who are more probable to suck cock.

I love eating pussy but sex is about power exchange so I also love getting my dick sucked by a girl who at to the lowest degree the likes of to do it.

See, I do n'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 substance because I know that every time could be my last, and I do n't want to go out like no halfassed picayune bitch.

But back to the bar ;

First of all she was modest in stature, which I did n't notice at first sitting next to her at the bar.

However I did notice her curly fateful hair and the freckle across her clit olfactory organ.

It also did n't take a snake pit of a tenacious clip for me to forecast out that she wanted my attention and did n't mind buying me drinks to get it, which was my jam back then.

I only had to suggest once that I might make 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 relieve oneself it clear that I am not a arrant whore.

If she had n't been pleasant company I would n't have stayed.

I mean I totally would 've downed a couple of relieve drinks but then I would give birth split instead of drinking with her until last Call and going back to her place.

Most women in that situation take you rest home and fuck you stupid, at least in my experience, but not Lori.

I mean we kissed, we cuddled, it was nice, but she would n't go past a sure point.

But I did n't cerebrate 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 unit, and in her space, whatever she did or did n't desire to do, that was a okay with me because I ai n't trying to make cipher uncomfortable.

The side by side first light after we got cleaned up I said I had to leave to seek solid food and she was immediately like, `` Oh, are you athirst ? Let me get you something to eat. ``



That 's pretty a good deal how it went from there.

Whenever I expressed a pauperization she offered to action 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 telling.

Do commend that I was kind of a pro drunk at this point.

When I did work it was in the restaurant business sector which in Nashville meant the bar business.

I was a Captain Cook and my trick about that is, `` My first chef was an dipsomaniac. In early words, a chef. ``

When it 's your job to gain other people 's fun you need to receive fun doing it so to facilitate that alcohol and various former 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 eldritch, fucked up, and need to change, but the idea of being a gracious boniface, and a maintaining a sealed level of politeness and courtesy, even between enemies ?

We need to hang on to that mother fucker like grim expiry because that 's a cultural norm worth preserving.

If you can trade with your foes with a modicum of respect you may key a way to make them your friends, but if not at the very least you can hate each other in peace of mind.

So Lori basically kept me, and since she paid the piper she called the line.

We met on a Fri, spent the weekend together, and when Mon rolled around she was material passing 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 away the door, and if you want you can call me later and I 'll pick you up. ``

It was just so cool down how she let me know she wanted me there but I could walk right out and she would n't be mad or anything.

At least that 's the way it came off to me.

By then I had met her roomie, this redheaded fair sex who was just as wild as Lori, and totally nice.

In fact, yeah, we all three went back to their space that first night.

At initiative I thought maybe it was a triplet office but as soon as we got there it was more than assoil that she 'd been there as Lori 's faithful wingman.

She seemed really happy to see Lori cuddling up with me, and I did n't mean anything of it.

I just figured that she was a good friend, and she was, but of trend 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 had n't fucked yet, or even mystify oral examination, 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 did n't conduct 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 had n't been with anyone since then because of the trauma, and although I did n't think of it in these terminus at the time I 'm sure enough that she had some PTSD.

She asked if I could be patient with her and of class I was more then felicitous to comply.

The traumatise theatrical role about this, besides the obvious, was that Lori was a powerful, positive woman, and she had Moxie as they used to say.

I mean she was a real handgun.

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 materialise to her, damn !

Not to voice too ghetto about it, but if she could get got what fortune does the modal cunt have ?

She was so sweet and kind that the musical theme of anybody hurting her really made me angry and sad, but the estimation that they could ball up something as wonderful as sex for her was just so wrong to me.

Talk about adding contumely to injury.

It was like a bastard sandwich and the staff of life is made of shit.

At that spot it became form of a sanctum mission for me.

Sex is one of the nicer things we human race do with each other so if I could help her to enjoy it again then by God I was gon na do everything I could.

So we carried on and now that I was armed with more knowledge of the situation I was capable to see that I had been playing it right, but I refined my proficiency.

For instance, before when she 'd put the breaks on matter I 'd back up off as far as I felt I needed to in social club to make her well-to-do without being cold or remote.

Sometimes continuing to book 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 animal foot to hers, or something to let her have intercourse 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 sentence 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 fright.

So I flipped us over so that she was on top of me, and then I laid my arms back in a submissive bearing, speaking softly, reassuringly.

Saying affair like, `` It 's approve baby, I 'm not gon na do anything you do n't want me to. '' and just reinforcing the idea that this was her company, and she was in charge.

There 's something that 's so gratifying about being able-bodied to fulfill mortal 's aroused needs, and although I may not be a commissioned sex therapist I did some body of work with Lori that I 'm really proud of.

Eventually she was able-bodied to slacken enough to experience my oral skills, and we did have penetrative sex as well.

The showtime time was on the sofa in the living room.

We were making out, kissing fondling, necking, and kissing, 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 doll so she just slipped out of her pantie.

I took my bloomers down, and was gon na contain them off entirely, but she pulled me back down on top of her.

With my pant down around my ankles I got into position as she reached in between us, grasping my cock and guiding it into her little beloved hole.

I do n't know how to adequately explicate the knock-down mix of emotions on my side of the par, but since I fancy myself as some sort of author I shall endeavor to work the effort.

start of all I had n't been made to wait for sex by either consideration or the girl herself since I was in eminent school, and even back then I had n't waited this long.

I honestly have to say that what intrigued me from the start was that she would n't or could n't consummate, and so I wanted to push the bound of that, or rather see how far that extended, if that makes common sense.

Do n't get it twisted though, I 'm not saying that every woman wanted to fuck me or anything insanely egotistical like that.

I ca n't even lay claim a statistically significant pct, but the cleaning woman that did want to screw me did n't muck about is what I 'm saying.

They 'd dive straight the fuck in.

Besides, realistically, what was I doing with my animation that was so pressing ?

I just felt that if she really wanted me then I 'd remain to make myself available for whatever she did or did n't need to do.

After all she was good company in every single way, up to and including nestle buddy.

So all the built up sexual tension, along with the honest heart and esteem I could n't help having for her just from getting to know her for this short time was the foot 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 Roger Sessions or anything like that.

At times she could even be pretty fast-growing, but since the whole full stop of this use was to instruct how to relax, and trustfulness another mortal with her dead 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 dear, and all reserve aside, at this dot in my life history I was fluent in said language.

bottom of the inning line, the fact that she was not just passively accepting me, but was actively inviting me, both verbally and physically, into her most familiar blank space was clearly the culmination of a operation 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 early, and we so often carelessly cause each former pain that getting the opportunity to consciously do the antonym is a gilt chance.

I never even imagined that I would get the fortune to use my drunkenness and womanizing for well so how could I not embrace this ?

I was also slightly apprehensive.

This was a pretty big footprint after all and despite all the good work we 'd done together I did n't require her to push too far too tight before she was ready.

I certainly did n't need her to feel that she needed to satisfy my desires since just being with her was a pleasance for me.

I just had to trust her judgment.

She knew substantially than me where she was at and what she was ready for.

Besides it was n't as if I did n't want to have sex with her, in fact it was quite the opposite just in case I have n't made that sparkling clear.

I do n't want to voice too cheesy or anything, like those Latinian language novels my gran used to read, but when I entered her for the first time, once I was fully ensconced, and we were holding each other, it was n't just beautiful, it was fucking magical.

Our kinship went on for a patch, but at a certain distributor point I was tired of being a cheap whore, which is basically what I was, no thing how nicely I try to gloss over it.

Thing is that during that sentence I had some hot womanhood contribute me their number 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 signaling communicating a lot of complex information simultaneously.

Maybe my experiences with her had just built up my self respect to where I could n't live as a kept man anymore, or maybe it was just time to do something else, but that was the live time I let a fair sex pay my bills.

A duet 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 retarding force show where she knew the manager of the place, and we saw a dead on Cher impersonator.

The coach 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 introduce from the early English of the stage, blowing their minds.

Of course she plied me with deglutition, and we smoked some bud.

I miss her in my lifespan but I know in my substance 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 lifetime because she chooses her associates carefully.

I honestly have n't thought about Lori in year, although now I 'm not entirely sure why.

I suppose I 'm not particularly proud of how I mostly wasted my life story during this menstruation, but as I come to write this explanation some questions occur to me that I had n't ever considered before.

I guess the principal one would be did Lori know who I was before we met ?

It 's a fairish question really because as I said I was fairly well known around the hippest measure in capital of Tennessee, and having worked at a landing 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 would n't take her long to find out about me.

It 's entirely possible that she just asked the barkeeper at Multi-Bob when I went to the bathroom or something that inaugural Nox, but knowing Lori that seems unlikely.

Either we just met, she took a chance and trusted her own judgment, or she researched me middling thoroughly.

I have seriously never even considered it until this mo but the to a greater extent I think about it the more I lean towards the later.

It just makes too a good deal sense based on everything I know about her, especially how practically she loved a bargain.

I went with her once to buy a new futon flesh and she was incredibly calculative about negotiating price, and trying to get anything supernumerary that she could.

She was like a steal shark.

After about the tertiary matter she asked about the possibility of getting for barren the salesperson said, `` No, but you 're sound. '' 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 gift 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 hold anything from it, that would be a new respect for the power of empathy, and a desire to exercise it .