I Remember

We'd been dating for a while and one Saturday night, we made plans to go out after you finished work with your uncle Jude and his friend Stephanie.

We headed down to South Street and had a few drinks at our usual haunt, Abilene. Things seemed OK, and we had a nice time, listening to a blues band and knocking a few drinks back.

But Jude and Stephanie never showed up, so you and I decided to get a motel room for the night to have some privacy and time alone together.

I was so excited to be spending the night with you. You have no idea.

On the way to the motel, you asked if we could stop off so that you could buy some weed. At that point in time, I'd stopped smoking but I didn't really care that you still did, so I agreed.

You drove my car into some godforsaken ghetto in West Philly...who the hell knows exactly where you took me. I was a little tipsy by that point anyway, and I wasn't paying much attention to where you were driving.

You left me alone in my car in the dark and disappeared around the corner.

I was too stupid to be scared.

You finally came back ten or fifteen minutes later, started the car without a word, and took off to the motel.

We checked in and you immediately locked yourself in the bathroom. I remember thinking that was a little odd...you never hid before when you smoked your weed...but I was too happy to be alone with you in the motel to question it.

I had even packed a special black lace teddy and impossibly high black patent leather heels to wear for you that night.

I slipped off my clothes and slid into the teddy and heels. Then I arranged myself prettily on the end of the bed and waited for you to come out.

You were in the bathroom for a long time...almost half an hour, if I remember correctly. I knocked on the door and asked if everything was OK.

You said you'd be out in a minute.

And you were.

You came out with a wild look in your eyes...like a rabid animal. You approached me on the bed and yanked me up into your arms, crushing my mouth with yours. You kissed me so hard that I couldn't breathe.

I pulled away to catch my breath as you stripped off your clothes.

Before I could say anything, you literally ripped that black teddy off my body with your bare hands and turned me around on the bed.

I was scared, baby, but I didn't want to say a word.

You bent me over and pounded me from behind, harder than you ever had before...and what was normally my very favorite sexual position became instant, sheer torture.

I had to bite my lip to keep myself from crying out in pain. It went on forever...you weren't able to come, yet you seemed to want to keep fucking me anyway. I went dry and started to bleed. Finally I begged you to stop. I've never had to ask any of my lovers to stop before that night.

There was no love that night. Our sex, which was usually slow and gentle and sweet, felt like rape.

I felt violated. Used. Lower than dirt.

It wasn't until much later that I put two and two together...you'd been smoking crack in that motel bathroom.

And I still feel sick to my stomach when I remember that night.