I used to fuck this guy who was 25 years older than me.

He looked like Bob Dylan in the Positively 4th Street era and he was in a sixties revival band (of course). We spent most of our time shacked up in his house in our underwear. And when I say "house" what I really mean is his bachelor style apartment. For those of you who are unfamiliar with "bachelor" style apartments, I can tell you, it's the lowest on the totem pole of living arrangements. Actually no, lowest on the totem pole would be a card board box, followed by residential hotel, then a bachelor apartment...Basically a bachelor apartment means that you live in one room then you have a tiny little bathroom. You may have a "kitchenette" which is actually just a hot plate on top of a microwave on top of a mini fridge. You then keep your one plate, one fork and one bowl probably in the bathroom sink. You only drink out of things that come in a can or bottle. Speaking of bathrooms, his didn't have a door. So the only thing that kept me from essentially taking a shit in the middle of the living room/bedroom was one of those Mexican blankets you buy at the swap meet nailed into the door frame. At one point, his toilet had broke so I had to take my "post-sex piss" in the street in front of his place in the dark crouched behind the wheel of a car. Needless to say, we got pretty close in the short time we spent together. He also had an old fashion heater right next to his bed, on the side which I slept, so I would wake up periodically in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. I was also paranoid that I would roll over into it in my sleep and burn my flesh off.
Our main activity was lying in bed, in our underwear of course, and he would play the guitar for me for hours and it got to be so annoying that most of the time I would pretend to be asleep. One night in particular he decided to shake things up a bit by trying to get me to smoke heroin...out of a bong. I mean, is that possible? Can you indeed take a "bong rip" of heroin? I don't know about you, but if I'm going to smoke heroin I would want it to be a classier experience. It's gotta be like a Brassai photograph...smoking out of a gold pipe or something. In Paris...in the 1930's.  It was not going to be in some shitty bachelor apartment in my "burger and fry" printed undies wrapped in a bed sheet. However, he made up for the annoying behavior and the holding me captive in his sub-par opium den by fucking me like a mad man. He would give me bladder infections and I didn't even care. I remember numerous times walking all funny back to my place and having to ice my crotch the next day. I guess a 45 year old man has something to prove to a 20 year old girl. Yeah baby, still got it.....