Not to validate myself but just to explain that this was my first assault. And not the worst one.
My first assault... It was pretty audacious. He bought me drinks from the end of the bar, I felt it tasteless. I rejected them, he might've been the best of them, but I like men who approach me. They ain't like the rest of em. It's true that the cats who approach are a mixed bag. Some are dirtbags, into being in and out like the purchases of porno mags. Well let's have fun and revisit the man who couldn't even talk to me first, or even get me in a position to consider a situation where I'd acquiesce to my own thirst. After I dumped his fruity drinks into the buss tub and looked mad... He approached behind me and touched my shoulder. It wasn't a touch it was more of a grab. He caressed me despite my lack of blessing. He massaged my right shoulder like I knew him, like he was a boyfriend or even merely received an "interested tag." Here's the situation, I'd dumped his drinks I made it clear that wasn't a thing. Why wasn't it clear that coming to me wasn't my thing? Next thing I knew he had my shoulder and whispered in my ear. He thought I was sexy, and wanted to get to know me, not even considering my fear. Men don't realize that sensual touch unauthorized leaves girls terrified. It's the antithesis to a romance or a safe situation I can identify. Now remember this is twenty seconds of my life. Between him walking up and taking liberties on touching me. Or even touching my life. See he affected me like a landslide. There was no stopping him as he decided it was his right, to slide his hand... Up my thigh right up my skirt. I legit wanted to die. I'd given him no indication I was into that situation. I did nothing other than sit there in my tiny black dress and this sultry makeup. It wasn't for him. It wasn't really for any guy. I just wanted to look sexy at a bar for a night. I get that that may garner some approaches. We're all human. I get that. We want closeness. But how many drinks do I have to pour out to make a point? Why do you still think you can come talk to me, and touch my inner thigh like 20 bucks on drinks I deflected gives you the right to be so far off point. I'm tired of excuses. I'm tired of being used. I'm tired of men taking liberties whenever they choose. I don't want to be touched unless I consent. I don't want to be touched unless I fucking consent. Why is that so fucking hard for you to cement? Short Prom Dresses 2020