Okay! Let’s look at one of the unhappy parts of life. Like so many people, I’d love to be slimmer, but I’ve also accepted the fact it probably ain’t gonna happen. I’ve done diet trips and when they don’t work like I expect, I get depressed and quit. Then I’m depressed and I eat the things that aren’t good for me, more pounds appear and then depression sets in even worse. Over the years I’ve learned to like the way I am. I eat sensibly and go for long walks and spend some time at the local gym. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m some behemoth or something! I’m just, well ... Rubenesque ... voluptuous ... pleasingly plump? I have between 15 to 20 pounds I’d love to lose; however! Do you get the picture?

Nevertheless, you know for the extra pounds I carry, you’d think the horn dogs with twangers would leave me the fuck alone. But NO! Seems like every Tom, Dick and Harry wants to take me down ecstasy lane. I politely tell them no, but they keep pestering me. Moreover, you know it really gets old after a while. Like what part of NO can’t they understand? If I choose, my bed is never empty, however, it’s by my choice. Please respect that.

All right, time to get off the soapbox. By now, I hope you got the idea, I’m comfortable with myself. Mostly I feel good about my weight, and I enjoy being a woman. I like myself. I feel all in all I’m a happy, well-adjusted woman. I’m just a smidgen over 5’9” with long wavy black hair and big brown eyes. I’ve been told I’m attractive and as far as the age thing goes, I became untrustworthy two years ago, (that means I’m over 30). Height/weight charts say I should be somewhere between 130 to 150 pounds and I’m at 147.

I have what is called “peaches & cream” skin and I have a waist and there are bumps and round parts where I’m supposed to have round parts. Part of my weight seems to be in my breasts as they are 36 D’s. Because my nipples get really hard, and are really large, they bring me more attention than I’d like at times. My bottom is well shaped, and a lot of men stare at me.

A couple of months ago, I met a man two years older than me whom I’ve been seeing. Steve is cute with a great sense of humor, most of the time. We started having sex after about the third or fourth date and I keep waiting for him to get a clue. I know so far, I really sound like a bitch, but is it too much to expect when we have sex for me to get something out of it too ... besides getting sexually frustrated? Steve seems to think just ‘cause the train is in the station, it’s my fault I didn’t get on. (His comment.) Well to tell the truth, a lot of the time because the train’s so small I didn’t even know the train was in the station, let alone it was time to get on.

Outside of the bedroom, as I’ve said, Steve is a fun person to be with. We do fascinating things and go to interesting places. He seems to be reasonably intelligent, with a thought-provoking sense of humor and he’s a handsome man. However, when it comes to understanding women and their needs in sexual matters, he’s clueless. We have had several conversations and all that gets me is he gets pissed and stomps off with his little feelings all hurt.

He expects me to give him oral sex anytime he wants, but he has also told me that women smell “fishy” down there and he absolutely refuses to have oral sex with any woman. One time we were in a hot tub together and he played with me for quite some time. When we got out, I asked him to eat me ... figuring I was as clean as it was going to get but he still refused. Needless to say, his little “Jonny” hasn’t been sucked on by me ever since.

One evening we went to dinner and clubbed for a while when we returned to my place. Since Steve still lives with his parents, (he wants to save up money to buy a house), we have sex at my place all the time. Usually there’s some foreplay before we get down to his “train in the station” routine, but this time he was impatient and as soon as we were naked, he pushed me down on the bed and started poking around with his pecker. I asked him to stop since I was still rather dry, and his attempted entry was painful. By the time I could tell him again to stop he’d already climaxed. Now I was sore and covered with his goo, and for some reason that was the last straw. I got out of bed, whipped the top sheet off of him and told him to get out.

“Come here baby ... I’ll make it good for you,” and he reached out for me.

I had my hands on my hips, pissed at his attitude and the way he’d just used me. “Are you willing to eat me to make it up?” I snapped at him.

“Fuck no; you know how I feel about that. But you can come give me a little suck and help me get hard so I can help you cum.”

There was no doubt now, Mr. Steve was history. “Get out!” I screamed.

“But baby...”

“Don’t fucking give me ‘but baby’. Get out. Sex is not a one-way street. I have had it with your selfish ways ... now get out.”

Steve got up and tried to put his arms around me. “Come here baby, I’m sorry.”

As he put his arms around me, he tried to fondle one of my breasts. I pulled away as I told him, “Get out. Keep your hands off me and get out!” Steve reached out and grabbed my arm and as he spun me back to face him, he pulled his hand back and before I could react, he slapped me across the face and then backhanded me. It knocked me to the floor. Sobbing I crawled over and picked up his clothes. I stood up and threw them at him and then quickly ducked into the bathroom before he could touch me again, making sure he heard me lock the door.

Steve apologized, telling me he was sorry. He said he didn’t mean to hit me, and it was an accident. He kept saying how sorry he was that he’d hit me and promised me it would never happen again. I thought to myself, “You can bet on that buster!” He tried knocking on the door, continuing to beg me to forgive him and please open the door. When he started banging on the door telling me to unlock it, or else, I told him if he didn’t leave at once I’d start screaming until the police showed up, and I’d tell them he’d assaulted me, and they’d arrest him. It was quiet for a few minutes and then I heard the front door open. I heard him scream back into the apartment, “I’m leaving, you fat cunt, and I’m not coming back ... never! So, fuck you, you fat bitch.” The door slammed.

I came out of the bathroom and threw myself on my bed, sobbing. I was so tired of his abuse. I was tired of being horny after we had sex. I was just tired of trying so hard to make our relationship work. As far as I was concerned, at that moment men were pigs. I hated anything with a cock.

As I lay there, sobbing on my bed, I heard a soft knock at the front door. Thinking it was ass-hole Steve coming back for some reason I went to the door and shouted out, “Go away. What part of ‘I never want to see you again’ don’t you understand?”

Again, there was a gentle knock at the door, but this time a female voice spoke back to me, “I’m not who you think I am. My name is Alice, and I live next door. Please open the door.” I wondered if I wanted to open the door, and I heard her soft knock again. “Please open the door. Please.” I was so upset with the evening I didn’t even realize I was still naked, and finally I opened the door a crack and there was a woman whom I judged to be a couple of years older than myself. “May I come in please?” she asked.

“Why?” I softly asked.

“I heard what just happened and I wanted to make sure you’re okay. Please let me come in for a moment.”

“I’m okay. Please go away.” I wanted this woman to leave.

“Please let me come in. I can see your face and your lip is bleeding. Let me come in for a moment so I can see if you are really alright. I’ll just stay a moment and then leave. I promise.” I could see she was not going to go away until she had checked on me. I stepped back and let her into my apartment. After she was through the door, she stopped for a second looking at me. I was surprised the way she gazed at me, and then I realized I was still naked. I quickly excused myself and ran to the bedroom to get something to cover myself. I didn’t want to take the time to get dressed so I just picked up the sheet off the floor where I had thrown it when I uncovered Steve. I wrapped myself in the sheet and returned to the front room. Entering the room, I apologized for my previous lack of attire when I answered the door. The woman gave me a little grin and remarked, “Not to worry dear, actually I loved the outfit.” And she winked at me.

I didn’t know what to make of the comment and I stared at her. Her return smile was warm and comforting and something about her made me feel safe having her in my apartment. “I’m sorry you overheard what just happened.” I offered.

“If you don’t mind, would you tell me what just happened?”

I motioned for her to sit, and I sat in my big easy chair. Looking at this woman I’m wondering why she bothered coming over. She was taller than me, with long blond hair piled carelessly onto the top of her head. Her eyes were an interesting shade of green and she was a big woman, not fat, but just big all over; taller than I am and more statuesque. When I looked at her, the term “Earth Mother” came to mind. If it had been the ‘60’s, she’d have been considered a hippy. Due to her size and how lovely her face was, she was a very striking woman.

I considered her question and finally I answered her question with one of my own, “Why do you want to know? Why would you be so interested in what happened to me? I’m just a stranger?”

“As I said, my name is Alice,” She paused and smiled before she continued, “Alice Kaplan. Actually it’s Dr. Alice Kaplan. I teach Psychology at the university and I’m very active with the battered woman’s clinic. The way the guy left here tonight I was worried you might be hurt.” Her smile was warm and most disarming. I don’t know why but I started crying again.

Alice moved quickly, pulling me out of my chair and onto her lap on the couch where she took me into her arms. It never occurred to me to resist, I just let her pull me over to her lap. Like I said when I started this story, I’m not a small woman but Alice held me like a child in her lap and as I wept, she kept rocking me, making soft soothing sounds.

Finally, all I had left were hiccups. When I pulled back a little and looked at her, I noticed the front of her shirt was wet from my tears. The material was now semi-transparent, it was actually so wet I could see she wasn’t wearing a bra. I don’t know why, but the sight of her wet blouse made me giggle. “I’ve gotten your blouse all wet ... I’m sorry.”

She pulled me closer into her big arms and whispered, “It’s all right. I own a dryer.” And that set us both giggling.

I wanted to welcome this sweet woman to my apartment, so I went to the kitchen and set about fixing two cups of hot cocoa. When I had both made, I returned to the living room. As I extended my arm with her cup, my sheet decided to come unwrapped, and I stood before her naked once more. She casually reached out, took both cups from me, and told me to go ahead and wrap myself again. For some reason, I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed to be standing in front of this almost stranger totally undressed. I can’t explain it, but she made me feel so comfortable and being around her made me feel nice.

I took my cup from her and then sat down on the other end of the couch. She stood and excused herself and headed for my bathroom. When she returned, she had a washcloth, and a hand towel in her hands. Gently she tipped my head back and carefully blotted the blood off my lip with the washcloth. She patted it dry and put her hand on my head. “That’s much better.” She got up again and took the two items back to the bathroom.

When she came back, she sat on the end of the couch, took a sip of her hot coco and asked, “So...” she began, “What was tonight all about?”

Without any thought, I just started babbling about the past couple of months with Steve. At first, I told her the good parts and how much fun we had on some of our dates, but then I started telling her how frustrating it had been with sex between us. I even told her about how I had begged him to eat me and his comment about how women smelled and tasted. When I made that comment, Alice’ face turned red and I watched her get upset. “Did he ever have oral sex with you?” she asked.

I shook my head no. “That was the last straw tonight.” I told her how he had almost raped me and...”

Alice held up her hand to stop me and asked, “Did you tell him to stop?” I nodded my head. “Then Sally, it was not an almost rape. When you said stop and he didn’t, that made it rape. Not an almost rape. Understand?”

I nodded my head. “Later, he told me he wanted to make it up to me and he asked me to come back to bed. I asked him to have oral sex with me to show he was sorry, but he declined, but he did suggest I suck on him to help get him hard so he could satisfy me.”

“Bastard!” she muttered. I explained to Alice how at that moment I’d finally had enough and decided it was time for him to leave. I told her how he grabbed me and slapped my face and split my lip. That was when I locked myself in the bathroom and told him to get out. I explained to her what puzzled me was I didn’t know why I was so upset at the time; I’d been thinking about breaking up with him for some time, but now I actually had done it, and I didn’t know why I was feeling so sad.

Alice smiled at me, reached over and took one of my hands. “It was a relationship, a comfortable relationship. A known quantity if you will. There were parts you liked and parts you didn’t like, but there were more parts you liked than disliked. Finally, it got to the place where you had enough. The bad outweighed the good. You were sad because it didn’t work out. You were blaming yourself for it not working.”

That comment felt like she’d hit me. That was exactly it. I felt it had been my fault. “How did you know?” I am sure my face showed how stunned I was.

“Honey, I understand. I’ve been where you are right now. All of it. The part about how you enjoyed being together, the part about sex being for him, and the part about him trying to make you feel as if oral sex was something only you were supposed to do ... that he didn’t have to do things like that. It may not feel like it right now, but you’re best rid of him. Tonight was just the start.” My face must have shown something as she continued, “tonight was as close to being raped as it gets before it becomes violent. The slaps are the first step and then more violence.” I shuddered as I recalled how hurt I was both physically and mentally when Steve slapped me. Alice continued, “More violence would have been the next step. You were just becoming a sperm receptacle. He didn’t care what you got out of sex, just spread your legs and let him get his rocks off. Trust me when I tell you, you are lucky to be rid of him.”

I could feel tears starting to form again. Alice took the cup from my hand and put hers down as well. Once more, she took me into her arms and rocked me. I really thought I had cried it out, however this time I didn’t hold anything back. My body was racked with sobs and the tears flowed. Part of my tears were from anger; anger for putting up with being half satisfied, part anger from putting up with his expectations I’d be his fuck toy and anger with myself for just not having the backbone to dump him sooner.

Letting myself be comforted by Alice felt so good. I could feel her rubbing my back as she rocked me in her arms. I’d never considered myself BI, nor had I ever had any desire to make love with a woman, but for some reason, her touch and being rocked back and forth was turning me on. When I realized what was going on with, I quickly pulled out of her arms. I was crimson faced and I desperately wanted Alice to leave. I felt like I’d made a complete fool out of myself.

“What’s wrong?” she asked with a puzzled face.

“Nothing ... nothing.” I murmured.

“Please, don’t take me for an idiot. You’re sitting here, allowing me to hold you and rock you and rub your back and...” It was like cartoons where the light bulb goes on over somebody’s head. Alice looked at me for a second and then asked, “Were you getting aroused?”

I looked down at my lap, completely embarrassed, “Please leave now. I think you need to go.” I wanted Alice to leave, I was so embarrassed.

Her voice was very soft and gentle as she spoke to me, “Listen, you’ve been pretty badly abused tonight. Your normal feelings are all mixed up, this is understandable and it’s okay.” Alice reached up, took my chin in her hand, and lifted my face so I had to look at her. “Becoming aroused is surprising. I’m flattered you found my touch arousing.” I closed my eyes; I was so embarrassed. “Look, it’s okay, I like men, and I like women.” My eyes must have looked like saucers and Alice smiled. “It’s not that bad. Both sexes have something to give when it comes to lovemaking. I was not trying to turn you on; I just wanted to comfort you. If things felt good; wonderful. At this point, even if you begged me to eat you or make love to you, I wouldn’t. Tonight, you need to go to bed and get some sleep. You’ve had a full day. Come on, get up.” She stood and helped me stand and led me to my room.

When we got to my room, Alice led me to my bed and told me to get into bed. As I started to crawl onto the mattress, she pulled the sheet away and pointed at the mattress. Once I was reclined, Alice spread the sheet over me and then picked up the blanket off the floor where I had thrown it earlier when I tossed Steve out. After I was covered, Alice leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Good night little one. sleep well.” I vaguely remembered the light going off and the next thing I knew there was sunlight filling my room.

As I lay in my bed, I played over all that had happened last night. My thoughts drifted to Steve and the ugly way things had ended between us. I reached up and touched my face and found parts of my face were sore to the touch and if I moved my mouth in a certain way, it was painful. Laying there thinking, I found I was happy he was out of my life, and it didn’t matter how it ended, the important thing was things were finally over with him.

Next my thoughts moved to Alice and when I recalled how good it felt to be comforted by Alice, I was surprised how aroused I’d become. I never considered myself as possibly being interested in having sex with another woman ... yet there was no denying it, I’d started to become extremely turned on by my interesting neighbor woman. I wondered where those feelings came from. Was it because the breakup with Steve had been so traumatic? Was that driving me to seek a different sex partner? And even more important, did I want to explore those feelings, and if I did, how would I pursue it?