A few weeks ago, my Boyfriend Alex and I joined up with some others celebrating the Eagles winning their 1st Super Bowl
(E-A-G-L-E-S!), and many beers fell in the battles that followed.
We ended up at Sue’s house, being a house, had bathrooms, and the only driver who could still get us there, got us there. Alex could walk home from there, and he kissed me goodnight as I couldn’t walk anywhere, and went home to shower and change and use his own bed.
I passed out on the sofa watching a movie on cable. I woke up naked in a side room home office on a cot.
Now, I might have wandered to the bathroom, but I wouldn’t have wandered upstairs into a closed room.
I don’t need NCIS to tell me what happened. This wasn’t my boyfriend, but was by a friend or friends. I’m not a virgin, but I do like to be included.
At least they could admit what they did. As it is, it isn’t a mistake, it’s an assault. I’m an object for their sex release. They just want to walk away.
There is no blow up nozzle on my neck! I’m a person, and I feel!
— Tabitha, age 21