Charlie:You love me, which is why you’re about to tell me what’s wrong.
Me:We were just gonna hang out…
Was I really going to tell my sister about that whole afternoon? Apparently I was. I took a moment to lament the fact that I didn’t have many close friends who I could unload to and started typing.
Me:And we did hang out, and it was fun. But then he had a hole in his pants…
Charlie:Of course he did.
Me:Char. No smartass comments. As I wassaying, he had a hole in his pants and I pointed out that he could patch it and he said he didn’t know how to sew so of course I offered to do the fix for him, which meant him taking his pants off.
Charlie:Bow-chicka-bow-wow.
Me:Fuck off.
Me:And then once I got his pants off one thing sorta led to another and next thing I knew we were banging it out on his couch.
Charlie:I fail to see the problem here.
Of courseshewouldn’t see the problem; she didn’t know Hen and his reserved nature and how my excitement had a habit of running roughshod over people who weren’t up to fighting back. She wouldn’t realize that I’d basically forced the poor guy into it, and even if I tried to explain, I wasn’t sure I could adequately get the point across. But I was gonna try.
Me:The problem is, I basically forced his pants off and then jumped him.
Charlie:Was he gagged?
Me:What? No, Charlie, he wasn’t fuckinggagged.
Charlie:So he could have said ‘no’. Or pushed you away.
Me:I mean technically yes, and it did seem like he was enjoying himself, but he’s a total sweetheart and he might’ve just not wanted me to feel rejected.
There were a few minutes of ominous silence before the “typing” dots began dancing on my screen. Uh-oh.
Charlie:Are you really that pathetic a fuck?
Me:What??
Charlie:Are you really that pathetic a fuck that some guy who was attractive and nice enough to catch your attention wouldpity-fuckyou?
Me:I didn’t say it was a pity-fuck, just that he might not have been comfortable saying no.
Charlie:Oh, so you’re a rapist.
I jerked, regarding my phone in horror. No one had ever even come close to applying that word to me, and I would happily have gone through life with that remaining the case. How dare she?
Me:What the FUCK, Charlie.
Charlie:Well, what you’re telling me is you had sex with someone who wasn’t enthusiastically consenting, right? Sounds pretty rapey.
Me:He was enthusiastic as hell, thank you very much.
So enthusiastic. I took a moment to reminisce about his little breathy gasps and whimpers in my ear, and the deep groan he’d made as he came. My dick, completely failing to understand that I was in the middle of an important conversation, stirred at the memories.
Charlie:So then why do you think he didn’t want it?
Me:I…
Me:It’s not that he didn’twantit. I mean, I’m pretty sure he wanted it at the time. But he wouldn’t have started anything if I hadn’t practically stolen his pants. I feel like I pressured him.
