It's high school fantasy zipless-fuck talk, but there's something else there. Something about territory, about having a mark on you. The marks of death, calling you out in the night, an arrow pointing to you, leading something that kills to your door. She gave up her prerogative here, to invite, when she drank. You can't undrink v-juice any more than they can undrink us. She can't hear him, but he will always hear her, now. When you're Sookie, you have to keep reminding people, men, that you have control, because men are beasts. But on the occasions you're not in control, or the circumstances in which you're not the one in power... It's a good thing he's courtly.
Men and women are consistently fascinated and kind of insanely governed by the rules governing them: the way men treat women, gallantry and chivalry, the complicated choreography of invitation and welcome, of service to others, of pride in ourselves. Men have the advantage, physically and socially, over women. Their right to choose whether or not to have sex, is naturally -- in terms of nature -- simply greater. So the art of the gentleman is a matter of life or death. And, like anything unnatural that's necessary for society to exist, it becomes part of God's law. Marriage, chastity, rape taboos; the way men keep trying to sneak rape in under other names and with other cover stories: Men don't have choices, they have hungers; women don't have unbreakable rules, they have prerogatives.
Think about the choreography of dating and marriage -- and I mean, like, the corsage kind from the Olden Days -- and how much (all) of it is about protecting women from the physical intimidation of men. Giving women all the power and permissions for intimacy, while depriving them of any power or individuality separate from their sexuality; making God's law out of common sense and then regulating women's sexuality on their behalf. Let gays get married, or women have sex before marriage, and maybe the whole thing falls apart, but I don't know. Nonconsensual sex is evil because there's no choice, just power and experience making decisions for somebody else. But isn't it just as abusive or objectifying to only see it from that paternalistic perspective? To assume that because a person looks weaker or smaller that they're incapable of making choices? It's provocative, not descriptive, to look at Sookie Stackhouse and say, "The only person with a problem resolving these two very different signals is you." Sookie's still a grown-ass woman making choices; it's just the wardrobe that's reminding you she's 5'5" and a self-proclaimed prude. She needs her body to be a sovereign nation in two ways -- as something safe and protected unto itself, and something empowered to make its own choices -- both of which men have been engaged in undermining as long as there have been men and women. Which is half the charm, I think, with Bill: he's courtly, he'll play the game, but all the same he's unafraid of her body. Between the two beasts from her memory, the overly interested and the utterly uninterested, he strikes a balance that suits her perfectly. Plus he's a murderer, most of whom can usually be trusted.