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Breaking In Through The Backdoor

There are moments in time where you wished you would have said something or, done something different. But you didn't and now you have to live with that shame or guilt of something that you never wished you did, never knowing what life could have been  without that one mistake. 

It was my first cross country trip without my parents or any family to speak of. I'm saying this like it was forever ago, No it was like a few weeks ago.  I was being kicked out for the weekend because my roommates were having friends over and wanted to turn up. No biggie, I had been talking to my friend about going to Atlanta to visit for a while and now I have the chance. So I packed my little luggage, grabbed some snacks, and caught the first bus I could for Atlanta!  My heart was dancing! Not only will I be staying in a lux hotel, but I'll be stoned out my mind, and having mind blowing sex. I couldn't wait to end this six month dry spell and get it in for 3 days straight. There wasn't a person alive who could tell me otherwise, it was happening and I didn't care where. So I get there around 1 and the weed is waiting for me. As soon as I get out the shower my wet naked body is flung mercilessly to the floor . He whispers in my ear "You've been waiting all week for this haven't you?" To which I responded a breathless "yes". Things pretty much stay like that for the rest of the day and the next.

It wasn't until Saturday night, things kinda changed, at least for me. It was just an odd feeling at the time I didn't know what it was, because I hadn't felt it in a long time.  I felt, just plain old dirty shame. Like legit bad that's the only way I could describe it. Ok, so Saturday night we were having sex and he tells me to go get my dildo. Fine, he starts playing with it, cool. Of course he starts getting in on it..alright nice. Then he bends me over the seat, and then enters through the front and back door simultaneously using himself and my dildo. I was like what. the. fuck. What's really strange, and freaks me out a little is the fact that I didn't flinch, or jump. I just laid there and took it. I guess because I already knew he was going to do it, but it's that nagging fact. It's the thoughts that were running through my head as I laid there, images of what my dad would think if he saw me (if that's not a turn off I don't know what is ).  I got up from that chair seriously changed, my heart felt heavy.

I didn't say anything and I still won't. Why? Because I put that whole idea in his head years ago while we were messing around in a field. I told him my fantasy is to be double penetrated. He told me " Don't do it, you'll be seen as dirty and just some slut." I brushed it off figuring that it would never happen.  But replaying what he said too me that night and what he said to me that weekend has me wondering if I am just another slut to him. I know some women find it liberating to be called a slut. I am not one of them, no I don't think women should be ashamed of sexual freedom.  If I did I wouldn't be writing this. I believe that it's a derogatory term it has a negative meaning, it was born from negativity and no matter how you dress it up its still has derogatory meaning. I am not a slut, I'm a sexual woman,  but when I got up from that chair I felt like nothing more than a slut. I was not proud, I was ashamed. I couldn't, and,  I can't shake that feeling.

 I felt just how I did when I was in college crying my eyes out because I felt like a used rag and wondered why I never got the good guys that wanted to come over and just watch tv, and spend legit time with me. I decided that night I was going to change and I felt as if I did, at least a little. Now, I feel like I'm back at square one, crying while looking for love. If I did it once I can do it again right? Welp, here goes nothing

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