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My Seven Sins
Chapter 3: Gluttony
(MF, college, alcohol)


	I was in no rush the next morning, as my drive was even 
shorter than the previous one. So I did not pull myself out of bed 
until about 9 o'clock. Halfheartedly, I texted Lizzie to see if she 
wanted to meet for lunch. Knowing how busy she was, I did not 
check my phone until after I had worked out for an hour. The 
response was as expected, thanking me for everything the night 
before, but saying that she was very busy. So instead, I loaded 
my car and drove a few miles to the university where Lizzie and I 
had graduated. I found the half-diner, half-restaurant at which 
we had gone on our first date and toasted her with a glass of 
orange juice while eating my bacon and eggs.

	It was early afternoon when I got on the road to my next 
destination, Youngstown, Ohio. I had never been there before, 
but it had been the hometown of the next major woman in my 
life, Heather Long. In a way, it was going to be the strangest of 
the meetings. We had never been a real couple, not even really 
friends. Instead, we were buddies who had more of an 
understanding. It was getting towards the end of college, so 
neither of us was looking for anything serious. However, we were 
both young and had needs.

	I had spent all of the first semester, and most of the second 
semester of my junior year ambivalent towards dating. I do not 
know whether I needed time by myself after things ended with 
Lizzie Franchini, or whether I realized that with other priorities in 
my life, trying to start a serious relationship would be foolish. But 
as the weather began to get warmer and the spring days got 
longer, I decided that I was ready to at least have some fun.

	In a way, Heather and I had met the day it became clear 
that I should not be serious with anyone for the rest of college. It 
was the middle of April, and I had just been offered a job from a 
tech company based in Chicago. I would work in the small 
Pittsburgh office over the summer, and then after graduation, I 
would be guaranteed a job at their headquarters. There would 
even be a stipend for my senior year, and a token signing bonus. 
Though the check had not arrived, I decided my friends and I 
would celebrate anyway.

	A couple of my friends were still underage, so we decided to 
go drinking at one of the underage bars. It was a dark, smoky 
establishment just around the corner from campus. It was not 
really known as a hook up joint, you are much more likely to see 
somebody puking on the floor than people making out. However, 
I was feeling particularly adventurous, and so I started talking to 
a girl wearing a heavy metal T-shirt at the table next to us.

	Heather was not the most attractive girl I had ever met and 
we did not have much in common, but from when we started 
talking, I saw that she had a "fuck the world" attitude that I really 
enjoyed. Eventually, I ended up ignoring my friends and listening 
to her cynical take on just about everything from music to 
politics. And as we drank, she got more attractive.

	I do not remember asking her to go home with me that 
night, but my buddies maintained that I did. Luckily, they draged 
me out of there before she could say yes. Unluckily, I ran into her 
a few days later on campus.

	We ended up having lunch together on a Friday. She was 
back to not being close to attractive. She was short and fat, with 
scraggly red hair. Her natural expression was a scowl, and she 
constantly stank of cigarette smoke. Normally, I would have run 
screaming. However, her refreshingly negative attitude left me 
laughing most of the time. I do not know whether I was laughing 
at her or the sarcastic comments she made about just about 
everything, but I decided it might be interesting to hang out 
together. So I gave her my phone number and told her to call 
some time.

	It was the typical dead Sunday night when she called two 
days later. Pretty much everybody I knew was either recovering 
from a hangover or preparing for classes the next day. So when 
she invited me to come over for a beer, I decided that I would 
give it a try.

	When I knocked on the door of her off-campus apartment, 
she greeted me wearing a super long, beat up black T-shirt. As 
she led me into the smoke-filled haze, I noticed three empty beer 
cans sitting on a table next to her bed. In general, the apartment 
was kind of nasty. The sink was filled with dirty dishes. There was 
clothing thrown all over the floor. The mismatched sheets on the 
bed looked as if they were rarely changed.

	Rather than sitting on the bed, I sat down on the floor as 
Heather went to get a beer for me. I tried to be polite and not 
show my disgust with her room by playing it off as feeling rude if 
I sat on a girl's bed uninvited. Luckily, she seemed to accept that. 

	In the time it took me to drink my one beer, Heather had 
drunk two more. I could tell she was tipsy as she swayed side to 
side a little bit while she talked. Normally, I would have thought 
somebody would be drunk after five beers, but this girl was able 
to carry on a coherent conversation which greatly impressed me. 
However, after about an hour I started feeling tired and excused 
myself to leave.

	Before I could stand up, Heather was on top of me. With a 
force more like a football tackle than a hug, she knocked me to 
the ground and straddled me. Then leaning over, she started to 
kiss me while she dry-humped me through her clothing. Though 
her mouth tasted like cigarettes and beer, it had been so long 
since I had been physical with somebody other than myself, I was 
immediately excited. In a minute, I was an active participant 
thrusting my hips up against her.

	Though Heather may not have had the most attractive body, 
she knew how to use it well. After we had wrestled off all her 
clothes except my boxers and her panties, she hung her 
enormous breasts, over my mouth. At her direction, I squeezed 
her breasts together so I could suck on both nipples at the same 
time. While I did that she moaned in a way that neither Carly nor 
Lizzie ever had. This was not playful teenage sex, it was adult 
fucking.

	After a few minutes, Heather crawled her way backwards 
down my body. With no gentleness, she pulled off my boxers and 
took me into her mouth. When Lizzie had given me blowjobs, 
they were slow and sultry, more foreplay than an act unto 
themselves. Heather did not care. She seemed perfectly willing to 
go to completion, as she would take me deep in her mouth, 
almost to the point where she would gag. Then, she would slowly 
slide off of me and worked around the head with her tongue. She 
even let me grab the back of her head and move it at a pace I 
liked.

	I was ready to come in a woman's mouth for the first time, 
when Heather pulled off. She did not even bother looking at the 
disappointment on my face, but instead asked if I ever came 
inside of a woman before. When I said that I had, she specified if 
I ever came inside a woman without a condom. The one time I 
been with Carly and every time I been with Lizzie, I had worn 
one, so I did not even think about the ramifications when I told 
her that I had not, but I would like to do it.

	Without a word, Heather grabbed my cock. Holding it 
straight upwards, she slid herself down on top of it. It was warm, 
wet, and slippery-like nothing I had ever felt before. 
Immediately, I decided that I hated condoms and that as long as 
she would let me, I would fuck Heather just like this. 

	As Heather began to rock herself back and forth, I could feel 
her wiry pubic hair cutting through mine. It was not the most 
pleasant feeling, but the feeling of being inside a woman the way 
nature meant it to be, more than made up for a little bit of 
scratching. In fact, the new feeling and her skill with her body, 
made up for any possible imperfection Heather might have. All I 
knew was that I wanted to keep fucking he, just like this.

	It was not that long before I was shooting inside of Heather, 
harder than I ever shot before-harder than with Carly, harder 
than with Lizzie, or harder than any time by myself. The feeling of 
my sperm disappearing inside of her, instead of collecting in a 
balloon around my penis, was exhilarating. I even pulled Heather 
down and kissed her again.

	I had never thought about the possibility of getting Heather 
pregnant, but as we lay naked on the floor, breathing heavily 
from the exertion, I began to get worried. When I said we should 
have used something, she laughed and said that she was on the 
pill, but had not had sex in a long time anyway. She did not think 
guys found her that attractive. As I put my clothing back on and 
got ready to leave, Heather said that she hoped we could do it 
again. I sincerely told her that I would definitely be back.

	Through the rest of the semester and over the summer, 
Heather and I met up often. We never went out on a date and 
never even acknowledged each other in public. I was afraid my 
friends would be upset that I was fucking the woman they tried to 
get me away from. A few times a week, when one of us was 
horny, though, either Heather or I would call the other. Then we 
would get together and have the same hot sex. The only 
stipulation was that I needed to bring alcohol with me.

	Heather was already a more experienced drinker than I was. 
In addition, I never drank enough so that I would not be able to 
do my schoolwork the next day. So needless to say, she always 
drank more than I did. The worst part, though, was that once she 
started drinking, Heather did not stop. It did not matter whether I 
brought a six-pack of beer, or a bottle of whiskey. Inevitably, I 
would drink a little and she would drink a lot.

	I did not really care, though. I was having great sex 
whenever I wanted it, and the woman was asking for nothing 
more than beer in return. Though during the summer my job kept 
me busy enough that we only saw each other about once a week, 
when the fall semester restarted I had money to spare, and was 
ready to have sex every night.

	Deep down I must have known something was wrong 
because first I stopped bringing liquor. And then instead of a six-
pack of beer, it became a four-pack of sickeningly sweet malt 
beverages. We both found them disgusting, but Heather drank 
them all anyway. Occasionally, I tried going by without any 
alcohol, but Heather never really seem to be in the mood those 
times. So as the semester wore on, I continued to enable her.

	And then after Columbus Day weekend, she was gone. When 
I had gone to her apartment on Friday night, she seemed worried 
about something. However, after a couple of drinks, she was bent 
over her bed as I pounded away behind her. As I was leaving that 
night, I made an offhand comment about seeing her later in the 
weekend. Rather than telling me to call her if I wanted to come 
over, like she normally did, she said she would get back to me.

	When I got back from going out with my friends the next 
night, I gave her a call, but her answering machine picked up. 
That was odd. Heather did not really have many friends, so she 
was usually available any time I called. Disappointed, I chalked it 
up to a freak event and went to bed. When I called again on 
Sunday, the phone just continued to ring. I tried again Monday 
and Tuesday night. By Wednesday night a message said her 
phone had been disconnected. The next Saturday I finally went 
by her building only to see an empty apartment with industrial 
fans trying to blow out the cigarette smell.

	On one hand, I was furious that Heather had taken off 
without telling me what was going on. On the other hand, I had a 
deep seated feeling that I may have had something to do with it. 
However, I concentrated on finishing the semester and preparing 
for my last few months in Pittsburgh. When spring semester 
started, I sought out a few people that I knew were 
acquaintances with Heather. None of them knew what was going 
on either, though a few had mentioned they thought her drinking 
was a problem.

	January became February, which became March, and soon 
enough I could see the end of my college career. At the same 
time, I had to finish one of my most difficult semesters in college, 
wrap up loose ends in Pittsburgh, and spend several weekends in 
Chicago looking for a place to live. There was no room in my 
mind for a friends-with-benefits relationship with Heather long, 
and so she passed out of my mind.

*               *               *

	Often, Youngstown, Ohio is the punchline of a joke. 
Occasionally, it gets listed as one of the depressing Rust Belt 
towns were nothing really happens, good or bad. However, for 
me, the city had a bit of charm. It reminded me of my hometown, 
if you added about 65,000 more people. Two days ago I may 
have had a different opinion, but after seeing Carly and the 
potential of the town where she had stayed, I thought that 
eventually something good would have to happen to this town 
too. 

	Until a few years before, there had been a club affiliated 
with mine in the downtown. Unfortunately, it had gone bankrupt 
and I had to find a hotel at which to stay. As the city was not 
famous for its great hotels, I ended up staying at one just off the 
highway. It was not the kind of place at which I would have 
preferred to stay, but at least it had a workout room and a 
swimming pool.

	Heather was to be the third women I met on the trip. Unlike 
Carly and Lizzie who there may have been a vague thought that I 
could have had something with in the future, I was only really 
interested in seeing her so I could understand what happened 
back in college. I needed to see if her disappearance did indeed 
have something to do with me. I did not think about it a lot, but 
when I did I usually felt a twinge of guilt.

	As I drove clear across Youngstown to meet at a random 
diner, I thought about how different my contact with Heather had 
been. Where is Carly and Lizzie had kept up at least a little 
conversation with me before we met, this woman's approach had 
been much different. When I found her on Facebook and said I 
was going to be traveling across the country and would like to 
see her, there was no immediate response. About two weeks 
later, right as I had given up hope of hearing from her, I received 
a message telling me that she was back in Youngstown and would 
like to know when I was coming through. After giving her my 
travel dates, she said she would meet me on one condition. We 
would meet at a diner for coffee and that was all. All in all, I had 
a bad feeling about it.

	When I got to the diner, I told the hostess that I was there 
to meet somebody. Surprisingly, she seemed to know for whom I 
was waiting. After telling me that the person I was waiting for 
was not there yet, she led me to a table. Where I expected a 
small intimate booth, I was led to a table set up for four. I sat 
down, ordered coffee, and waited.

	About 10 minutes later, Heather walked in. She was older 
and the years had not treated her well. Though we were the 
same age, I could see the wrinkles on her face and some gray 
streaks in her red hair, which was pulled back in a ponytail 
behind her. There was one improvement, though. She was much 
thinner than she had been in college, which looked amazing in a 
tailored business suit.

	I had not noticed the older woman who had come in with 
Heather, but when the hostess pointed to where we were a very 
matronly looking woman followed her with a hand on my old 
lovers shoulder as if to give reassurance. I stood as they 
approached the table, half expecting a hug or at least a 
handshake. However, when the two women got to the table, they 
simply said hello and sat down. There was definitely tension as 
we sat across from each other in awkward silence for a few 
minutes.

	The small talk at the beginning of the conversation was brief 
and consisted only of Heather asking me how my drive was and 
whether I had found a decent place to stay. I told her that I had 
come up from Pittsburgh, so it was an easy drive and told her at 
which hotel I was staying. It seemed as if that met the requisite 
pleasantries, and the woman I had known many years ago 
started down a path that in hindsight I should have expected.

	First, Heather introduced the other woman as Dolores, her 
sponsor. Immediately, I realized why she had left college. I 
should have seen the signs all those years ago. The entire time 
we had our relationship, she had been an alcoholic. And in 
exchange for sex, I brought it almost whenever she wanted it. My 
heart sank.

	I do not know if Heather could tell how I felt, because she 
pulled a piece of paper out of her jacket pocket and unfolded it. 
After telling me that Dolores had helped her get it into the right 
words, she started to read. She told me that she had started to 
drink at parties when she was in high school. By the time I had 
met her, she had already developed a problem. She did not drink 
every night, but when she did she could not stop. When we met, 
she was already barely hanging on. She had not found me 
interesting or particularly attractive, but she thought that I might 
be able to get her alcohol when she did not have enough money 
to get it herself. So she used sex so that I would buy her what 
she needed. At the same time, when she was unable to go to 
class because of her hangovers, she blamed me. Finally, her 
parents and brothers had come down that Columbus Day 
weekend to take her home. She had already been suspended for 
the semester and they knew she was on a destructive path. After 
she left college, she blamed me for ruining her life. For years, she 
was unable to hold a job or do anything other than drink. But 12 
years ago after her last boyfriend threw her out on the streets, 
she realized she had hit rock bottom. Homeless and scared, she 
walked into an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. She had not had a 
drink in over 10 years. She was afraid that by telling me this, I 
might blame myself, at least for part of what happened, but she 
did not want me to. She had gone back to college, and was now a 
licensed clinical social worker, specializing in drug and alcohol 
recovery. She had a good life, a good job, and a supportive 
network of friends that helped keep her sober. Finally, she 
wanted to make amends to me first for taking advantage of me in 
college, for blaming me for her own weakness, and for hurting 
me, just in case I was blaming myself now.

	I was speechless, not because I was surprised at what 
Heather had told me. Rather, I was surprised that she did not 
blame me for being her supplier. It seemed as if she was telling 
me that everything was her fault all along. Though she tried to 
stop me, I told her that I was sorry too. Deep down, I had known 
that something was wrong. I explained that I had at least 
subconsciously made the decision to reduce the amount of 
alcohol I was bringing, but I kept bringing it because I wanted the 
sex. I assured her that I had not even considered she was using 
me, because I was focused on how I had been using her.

	The mood lightened enough that Heather offered her 
condolences for my late wife that she had read about on my 
Facebook page. She thanked me for meeting with her. Then she 
and Dolores excused themselves to go to a meeting. As I sat 
alone with my coffee, wondering what I should do with the rest of 
my evening, the hostess came by and told me that the coffee was 
on the house. Furthermore, the women were regular customers 
and had told me they would pick up the tab for whatever I 
wanted for dinner. Grateful, I ordered the meatloaf.

	The unfortunate thing about Youngstown is that if you are 
from out of town, there is just really not much to do at night. So 
after lingering over my dinner for a while I decided to take a slow 
drive back to my hotel. I would go to bed early, since I had a 
relatively long drive the next day. Ominously, it started to rain, 
as I pulled back into the hotel.

	It was about 9 o'clock and I could hear a violent downpour 
outside, as I finished up my bedtime preparations. It would 
already be a long drive through the endless fields of the Midwest 
the next day, and the drive would be almost painful if it was 
raining this hard. I was about to send out an email suggesting a 
change in my travel plans to the next person I was to meet, when 
I heard a knock on the door. I probably should have looked 
through the peak hole or fastens the safety lock, but for some 
reason I just opened the door. Standing in front of me, in the 
same fitted business suit which was now soaked and hanging off 
her, was Heather Long.

	"Please, let me come in," she pleaded. "After seeing you 
today I want to know what it feels like when I'm sober, just this 
once."

	I was stunned. I had not expected to see or hear from 
Heather again, but here she was, somehow knowing where my 
hotel room was. My body reacted and stepped aside letting her 
into my room. When she had gotten all the way in, she asked if 
she could take her jacket off. After I nodded, she removed it to 
reveal a white blouse that clung to her chest so that I could easily 
see her bra beneath. I had not expected anything, but now I 
knew I wanted to have sex with her.

	Thinking she might have been cold, I offered to get Heather 
a towel. Looking at me directly in the eyes, she suggested a 
shower might be better, and that I should get in with her. 
Instinctually, I knew it would be better to let her take the lead. I 
let her approach, and start to kiss me. Instead of cigarettes and 
beer, her mouth tasted slightly of peppermint as if she had been 
chewing gum on her way over. Gently, I slipped her blouse over 
her head and unclasped her bra. My hands wandered her chest 
and explored in a way I never had back in college. For her part, 
Heather worked my T-shirt over my head and then pushed my 
boxers to the floor. As I unzipped her skirt and let it drop to the 
floor, I noticed that she was not wearing any panties. Giggling, 
she whispered that she still had to have a little bit of a slut inside 
of her. With that she took me by the hand and led me to the 
bathroom.
	
     As the warm water of the shower raced across our bodies, 
we kissed. Standing on the tips of her toes with both arms locked 
around my neck, Heather hung from me pulling her mouth to 
mine as if to devour me. I held her close with one hand on her 
back and one buried in her red hair, which was still scraggly after 
all the years. Years ago, our bodies had pressed together often. 
But then it was with either her or me on top one of us in power 
over the other. In the shower, we were equals. Both of us had 
made a lucid choice to be there with neither bribes nor clouded 
judgment.
     
     When we were done, we gently toweled each other off, 
playfully and innocently teasing each other's bodies. Eventually, I 
led Heather to the bed. Laying her down gently, I looked over her 
body. Though she was thinner, she was still not the most 
attractive woman I had ever seen, and the years had definitely 
not treated her well. But without the smoke and booze, she 
somehow looked younger and less experienced than when I had 
known her in college. Back then I had used her for my own 
pleasure. I had never considered how what we did affected her. 
Today, I wanted to please her. I wanted to make it all about her.
     
     I helped Heather prop herself up on the pillows, so she could 
see what I was about to do. Then I slid down with my face 
between her legs. The scraggly pubic hair I remembered from 
college was gone. Instead, she was well groomed and trim short 
enough to be clean without being stubbly. So my face did not feel 
at all uncomfortable as I slowly ran my tongue up the sides of her 
pussy. I teased her, coming close to her clicked before reversing 
direction and working back to the bottom. Eventually, I attacked 
the middle sinking my tongue deep inside of her. She gasped and 
pulled my face hard against her. Then I replaced my tongue with 
two fingers and worked my way back up, so I was licking her clit. 
I started gently, but eventually realized that she liked firm 
pressure. In a few minutes, my tongue was exhausted, but 
Heather was arching her back, panting in orgasm.
     
     After a few minutes rest, Heather said that it was my turn. 
Rather than laying me down on the bed, she sat me on the side 
and knelt between my legs. It was her turn to tease me. She 
started at the bottom of my cock and slowly kissed her way up. 
With her tongue she teased the edge of the head, before kissing 
her way back down. After taking several minutes to build me to 
an iron erection, she took me into her mouth. She was tentative 
at first, and only worked the head. Soon enough, though, she 
started to take me deeper and deeper, even gagging as she took 
it into her throat. Finally, she let me shoot in her mouth. When I 
finished, she had a huge smile that silently said, "Mission 
accomplished".
     
     Though I was middle-aged, I was so turned on that when 
Heather asked me if I had another round and me, I only needed a 
few minutes before I was rock hard again. Now, it was time for 
sex. Unlike our first time, which had started with Heather 
practically tackling me, this time she gently lay down on her back 
and guided me between her legs. I had no trouble sliding inside, 
so it was apparent that she was his turned on as I was. I started 
slowly, and with every thrust Heather moaned and arched her 
back, showing that her body enjoyed every moment of contact. 
     
     As I started to thrust harder, Heather propped herself up on 
one elbow, and with the hand holding the back of my head thrust 
back into me. Eventually, you could hear our bodies slapping 
together, as she moaned that she did not remember it being that 
good. Remarkably, though, it was she who was so much better. 
In the heat of passion, the sober Heather was much better than 
the drunk Heather.
     
     Eventually, my body began to tire. After all, I was middle-
aged and was on my third day in a row of passionate sex. 
Heather must have realized this after her second orgasm because 
she asked me what would help me cum a second time. When I 
said I did not know, she started dirty talk that took me back to 
the days in college. She asked me if it was hot to fuck her bare 
pussy, and if I wanted to cum in it. When I huffed that I did, she 
asked me if I wanted to, even if that pussy was fertile. Lost in the 
moment, I said that I did. When she told me that her body was 
mine and I could knock her up if I wanted to, I ended up shooting 
deep inside of her. As we collapsed onto the bed, Heather giggled 
and told me she was still on the pill, so I did not need to worry 
about anything.
     
     I looked at the clock and I saw that was almost midnight. 
Lying next to me, Heather looked tired, barely able to stay 
awake. I do not know whether it was concern about her driving or 
the desire to share more than just a physical intimacy with her, 
but asked Heather if she wanted to stay with me for the night. 
With a yawn, she said she hoped I would ask. She grabbed my 
room key, and excused herself so she could get things from her 
car. 
     
     Twenty minutes later, we were lying curled up together, 
while Heather softly snored.
     
     The next morning was slightly rushed. Heather was not used 
to getting ready for work somewhere other than her apartment, 
and had to improvise for things she had not brought with her. I, 
on the other hand, was not use to having a woman who needed 
to run around and get dressed up in the morning. So I spent 
most of my time being in the way. But somehow things worked 
out, and it 8 o'clock, I was embracing Heather as we stood next 
to her car.
     
     With a smile, Heather said that though last night was not 
the most sober thing she had ever done in her life, she did not 
regret any of it. However, she also said that she did not think it 
go any further. I had been a big part of one of the most toxic 
times in her life-one which she very well might not have 
survived. She honestly did not blame me for anything, but did not 
know if she could be psychologically reminded of that time on a 
continuous basis. I was always welcome to visit, and if we were 
both single we could have a repeat. But even if I was looking for 
something more than we had the night before, and she did not 
think I was ready for that, it probably would never happen 
between us.
     
     I could not help but smile. I really did not know what I was 
looking for on this trip. I had known the Carly was married when 
I met her, and I had never considered that Lizzie could be 
interested in something other than her work. However, I had no 
ideas about or expectations of what Heather would want, when I 
had made contact with her. Other than being sober and really 
good in bed, I did not know a thing about her, at this point. I 
wanted to stay in touch with her, so I probably would get to know 
her better. But I still would have no expectations.
     
     With a sigh, Heather gave me one last hug and a kiss on the 
cheek, and then lamented about what might have happened if 
she were sober in college or could at least have gotten help for 
her drinking. I halfheartedly agreed as she stepped into her car. 
Something wonderful may have developed, but then 10 years of 
something wonderful with my wife never would have happened.
     
     One thing Heather said did have a big effect on me. With as 
bad as her drinking had become, why did Heather not get help? 
As I walked back to my room, I realized how scared college 
students who have drinking problems and know they have 
problems must be. It was likely that they might end up kicked out 
of school under some kind of zero-tolerance policy if they were 
caught. Some were probably afraid that their parents might not 
let them come home to sober up. 
     
     I decided that I needed to do something. So as I walked 
back to the hotel room, I left a voicemail message for my lawyer 
saying that I wanted to set up a fund to pay for drug and alcohol 
treatment for students at my old school.