This is my story. I have made it as accurate as I can; obviously I was not able to record conversations word-for-word as this occurred several years ago. But I think I've been able to get it pretty close.
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I was born in the Dallas area to a "good Baptist family." We went to church 3 times a week (Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night) and lived our lives by the teachings of the church. As a teenage girl, I dated a little but never did anything more than kiss a boy good-night. When it came time to go to college, my parents chose a very strict Christian school in Oklahoma, where male-female contact was very strictly controlled. Thus by the time I was nearing graduation from college, I was still a 22-year old virgin. My church and my family strongly encouraged marriage, and I met a man through the church I attended at college. He was 23 years older than me, but that didn't seem so much at the time. He was a widower, his first wife having died suddenly about 3 years earlier, and they were childless. He was very nice and respectable and seemed exactly what a husband should be. When he proposed to me, I eagerly accepted, and we were married a week after my graduation from college.
Now, even though I was a virgin, I DID know what sex was; well sort of. I expected that my husband, having been married before, would fill me in on what it was all about. But on my wedding night, my new husband explained to me that in his view, sex was strictly a means to produce children, and since I was not fertile at that time, there was no point in us "doing anything." So my first sexual experience came 2 weeks later. It was disappointing and less than I expected. It lasted less than a minute. Even being a virgin, I could barely feel my husband's inside me. There was no pain, and no blood (as I had been led to believe there would be). I was worried that it was my fault, that my husband might think that I was not a virgin. But he acted as though it was normal, and did not approach me for sex for another month, when the same thing happened. I saw that his penis was much, much smaller than I thought it would be. It was only 2-3 inches long when fully erect and very thin. It was about as big around as a tampon. I went to my doctor and was told that my hymen was still intact, and the doctor explained that sometimes the man is just not big enough to actually penetrate the hymen on the first or even the second try. The third month he did manage to break my hymen, but again it lasted less than a minute (more like 10-15 seconds). We engaged in no "foreplay" at all except for just a few kisses. He would then get on top of me. I felt no real pleasure, but didn't really know any better. I had nothing to compare it to.
And that's how my "sex life" went for the first 7 years of our marriage. In that 7th year, I discovered that I was indeed pregnant. I was thrilled and so was my husband. H went on to explain that there was no need for sex anymore since the procreation had occurred. My pregnancy was difficult, and I had to be hospitalized for the final 2 weeks. After the C-section delivery, it was decided that another pregnancy would be too dangerous for me. So my "tubes were tied" while I recovered from the delivery. Once I got home, my husband explained that we would not need to have sex again as there was no chance of pregnancy. From that day he never approached me again. I was 29 at the time.
About a year later, my husband received awful news. He was diagnosed with prostate cancer, and surgery was required. They managed to get all of the cancer and save his life, but the surgery left him totally impotent. That didn't bother him at all, as he was not planning on having sex ever again anyway.
I was left feeling somewhat unsatisfied with my life, but I didn't know why. I didn't know what I was missing. I mean, I saw TV shows and movies where women had hot, passionate sex, but I didn't know what that involved or what it would feel like. I kept busy with my interior design business although we didn't need the money. My husband's salary was more than adequate, but I enjoyed the work and time with our growing child. My husband and I were both very involved in our small, rural church. I taught Sunday School and was on several committees and chaired the Building and Grounds Committee. We went to plays in the city, took quiet vacations, and generally enjoyed life. In short, I had a sexless life but didn't really know any other way to live. But at the age of 31 life changed dramatically and forever.
Given the racial theme of my eventual story, perhaps I should address the issue of my views on race at that time of my life. As I already said, I was raised in a strict Southern Baptist home, and my parents were very conservative in all ways...religion, economics, politics, and especially social/race relations. While I seldom heard my father use "the N word," it was clear that he considered blacks to be second-class citizens. We had no black neighbors or friends, and no blacks attended our church. There were blacks who attended the same public schools as I did, but the idea of me dating or even socializing with blacks was never considered or discussed. I just knew it was totally unacceptable.
In September as I turned 31, I had settled into my proper white wife and mother routine, albeit a completely sexless one. We had long since moved to an unincorporated suburban area about 40 miles outside the larger city. It was not a farm area but each home had 2-3 acres of land around it. I stayed busy with my part-time business, maintained our home and volunteered at church. I had plenty of time to visit with my female friends, almost all of whom came from the same small, all white, rural church we attended. I was considered fortunate because I looked much younger than my real age (a family trait; at 65 my mother still could pass for 40!). I took great care to maintain my physique (5'2", 115 to 120 lbs.), with bright red hair and green eyes. While never considered a "beauty", I was by most accounts "attractive."
On this life changing day, two of my closest friends from church were taking me out to celebrate my 31st birthday. One of them had suggested we meet at a trendy restaurant in the city. I knew the place but had never been there. I dressed in a way I considered "sporty." I wore a light dress that was fairly short for me. At church on Sunday, one of these ladies had gave me a small gold chain as a gift. Thinking it was a necklace, I embarrassed myself when I told her it was too small for my neck. She laughed and told me it was an ankle bracelet and meant to be worn on the foot. I had never heard or noticed such a thing, but wanted to not hurt her feelings so I put it on the day we were to meet. Since my minivan is an automatic transmission, I wore it on my left foot so it would not hang up on the brake pedal.
Apparently I misunderstood the time we were to meet; I arrived just before 11 AM and my friends were not there. Taking a booth, I decided to be bold and ordered an alcoholic drink (something I rarely do). I sipped my drink and looked around the room, but of course I knew no one there. It was a warm summer day and my drink was refreshing, so I ordered another. As I sipped the 2nd drink I could feel the effects of the alcohol on my body.
Suddenly a very large black man appeared at my table. Without asking he just sat down next to me in the booth. I was startled and scooted further in to get away from him. He just slid in further so that I was pressed against the wall on one side and his body on the other. I started to speak and ask him why he had sat down and to tell him to leave. But no words would come out of my mouth. Then he began to speak.