Sat, Sep 9, 2017 at 4:25:48 pm
He apologized for the “mix-up,” then laughed and said, “Feels good, doesn’t it?” I certainly didn’t feel any more pain. Hell, I hardly felt anything at all. I was awake, but I couldn’t move my body. I don’t remember how long it lasted, just that all I could do was lie there on the floor in the living room and wait for it to pass. While I was unable to move, or feel, or talk, he climbed on top of me, and we had sex again.
Or did we? Looking back I wonder: was that sex, or was that rape?
Let me backtrack to this concept of consent for a moment. In my world, there was no such thing as non-consensual sex. You either asked for it verbally, with your body language, your clothing, or you were somewhere you shouldn’t be in the first place.
If you consent once, you’ve consented forever, right?