**Author’s note: this story plays a lot with the idea of consent and I just wanted to say that this does not indicate my true feelings about consent and anything that feels like anti-consent language is just meant as a fictional sort of roleplay. Consent is important, no means no and yes means yes. Moving on!**
Lola felt like she was just starting life, which is a strange thing to do at forty. She had lived her life up until that point with so many of the usuals—depression, anxiety, what have you—but the biggest issue was a total lack of self confidence. As a child, she began stressing about herself and her body and never quite stopped. By the time she was in her twenties, she didn’t like herself at all anymore. It may be necessary to point out that she was not ugly—she had never been ugly—but self-hatred is a strange thing. As a result, she refused to hear compliments and only felt insults. She wasn’t a virgin, not at that age, but she also missed out on so much. Her few sexual experiences had run the gamut from depressing to humiliating. When you hate yourself, you assume everyone else does too, so she only ever took up with people she thought were desperate enough to fuck her. This led to situations like fucking hideous people or spending time with assholes or, in one case, getting fucked in the middle of a party blindfolded, unsure of who had fucked her, believing that that is all she deserved.