There's one other thing

We kiss softly for about a minute, but when I try to move things along, she suddenly freezes.

“I'm sorry Mr. Patterson. I can't do this.” Alison wipes the tears from her face, “That was nice, but I was taught that my body is a sacred temple, I can't let you defile it for money.” I can't help but wonder why a piece-of-shit like Richard gets to defile this temple whenever he feels like a booty call, but she's not willing to even consider this offer. Perhaps Alison could read my mind because she tries to explain.

“Richard's different.” She begins, and I'm expecting to hear some crap about how they are going to be married, so it is OK for him to fuck her. Boy did I get that wrong. “He's not a gentleman like you. He just takes what he wants - and I let him.”

“Honey, you're going to have to explain.” For the moment I am more concerned about what is going on in Alison's dysfunctional relationship than I am in getting into her pants. “How did a sweet thing like you ever end up with someone like him?”

“The first time was last spring.” Alison starts hesitantly, “I just got into a fight with my parents, and roommate talked me into going to a party” Richard was there, and he looked so bad with his long hair, tattoos and leather vest. I knew my father would throw a fit if I ever even looked at a guy like that.”

“I guess he noticed me staring at him and liked what I saw...” She stumbles to a halting stop looking up at me for some kind of understanding. When I smile and nod, she tries to explain.

“I thought he was going to introduce himself, but he just pushed me against the wall and kissed me. Not a nice kiss like yours, Mr. P. He tasted like beer and sweat and his tongue...” Alison's eyes are starting to tear up again, “I'd never been French kissed before, and I was so shocked I just let him kiss and grope me under my skirt in that dark basement. I remember thinking that my dad would have a conniption if he knew what I was doing.” The whole thing is starting to make a little more sense, but Alison still has more to say so I keep my mouth shut and listen to her as she explains how she let Dick lead her up to an empty bedroom and pull her down with him onto the bed.

“Didn't you try to stop him?” I ask both angry at Dick and marveling at how lucky that bastard got when he dragged this naïve small-town girl into bed that night.

“I tried to; I swear Mr. P!” She whispered, “I struggled and told him 'no', but he held me down and laughed like I was just playing. He didn't even take his clothes off Mr. P, he pushed up my skirt got behind me so my face was pressed into the pillows so even when I tried to scream no one could hear me.” Her eyes drop in shame. “He laughed when he realized I had been a virgin.” Her hands were shaking in mine, but she is determined to get it all out. “He held me down this time on my back and he did it again so he could see my face when he pushed into me.” With a sniff she pulls her hands free from mine and covers her face. “That was how I lost my most precious gift, Mr. P. To some guy who didn't even know my name but who got off on the fact that he was my first.”

“It wasn't your fault, Angel.” I tell her,

“Wasn't it Mr. P? I went to the party, and I let him take me to the bedroom, didn't I?” She asks bitterly, “And once he put his thing inside me, I didn't even fight him. I just lay there crying and let him fuck me. It hurt, Mr. P, it hurt so bad, but I got excited by it too.”

“That doesn't change what happened, Honey.” I do my best to correct this dangerous self-hate. “Why do you put up with him?” She sniffs again and pulls her hands away so she can look me in the face. “When Richard comes over, we don't make love, Mr. P, not like you think. He takes what he wants - I let him. As long as he wears a condom, I just lay there and let him f-fuck me.” I think it's the first time I've ever heard her say that word. Hell, the way she stumbled over it, it may be the first time she's ever said the f-word out loud. Alison however is still talking, and she deserves my undivided attention.

“My mother told me that on my wedding night, my husband would lie with me like that and that that painful moment of union would bind me to him forever.” Alison shakes her head sadly. “I keep thinking - don't laugh at me, Mr. P - I keep thinking that maybe Richard and I will get married, and then everything will be made right again.” I try to say something, but before I can put words together in a meaningful way Alison says it for me. “It's nonsense, Mr. P. I know that, but when he comes by, I can at least pretend I'm not a whore.”

“You're not a whore, Alison!”

“Aren't I?” She asks pointedly, “Didn't you ask me to sleep with you in exchange for my rent?” What can I say. She's right. Alison takes a deep breath, and then seems to come to some internal decision.

“I can't give myself to you, any more than I gave Richard my virginity. But you could take what I owe you.” The way Alison stresses the work 'take' makes me look at her in shock. “I don't lock the bedroom door, Mr. P, you could slip into my room while I was sleeping and overpower me. Then you can do whatever you wanted.”

“I'm not going to **** you, Angel” I put a stop to this crazy idea of hers, but Alison refuses to surrender without a fight.

“I told you, it's not like that.” Alison's wide eyes are almost pleading with me. “I want to give myself to you, Mr. P. I really do. I just can't bring myself to do it. I need you to be in control.” Her expressive eyes meet mine without flinching. “Like you said the other day; I want you to take what I owe you out of my tushie.”