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Craig went into his room and then the bathroom and returned with a glass of water and a small pill.“Here, take this,” he said, handing me both. “It will sober you up quick.”Drunk and stupid, I took the pill. It wasn’t fifteen minutes later that I was feeling the effects. Within a half hour, I was on my back on the couch. I was even dizzier than before. Everything around me was clear visually, but it was like wasn’t real. I could see, hear and feel everything, but I couldn’t coordinate myself enough to move or talk. Even though I tried, my body was like jelly, without muscles, and my speech was garbled and barely audible. Craig pulled me up further onto the couch. As a test, he pinched my nipple and pulled on it hard. I mumbled some gabled words, not able to put words together in a sentence. He smiled and winked at me. He put his hand on one of my tits and looked over at Carl. “She has some nice ones, huh?”Carl just nodded. Carl was two years younger than me. He was. "What would you like us to be doing?" Bradley asked. He was leaning toward me, placing little kisses on the side of my neck. I thought I knew what we both wanted in that particular moment. I knew what I wanted. It wasn't my first time. Sex was still enough of a novelty for me, though, that anticipation of the pleasure and intimacy made me delirious. I was a young woman (and at this point in my life I'm amazed to think of myself as ever having been that young) who had been raised in a (relatively) proper household. So, burbling under everything - as I got ready to do it with someone I had no likelihood of ever having even the illusion of a romantically committed and loving relationship with - my mind hummed an almost imperceptible, troubling dissonance composed of the words 'slut' and 'skank.’ I was a college-educated woman, though, so I was able to conjure a mental boot and stamp that nonsense into submission. I was sure Bradley wasn't just knocking off a piece, that he was.
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