Chapter 2: Giving In
I thought a lot about what had happened over the next few days. I had told my best friend Abbey about agreeing to the date, and she wanted to know how the night went, naturally. Abbey was on the cross-country team with me, and we had been close since seventh grade. I told her of course, but not everything. I told her we boned and that it was fucking amazing, but I held back on some of the details about how aggressive he was, the way he talked to me, and how much I had liked those particular aspects of it. I usually told Abbey absolutely everything, but I really didn’t know how to explain that part of it in a way she’d understand, and I didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. She wanted to hear every detail of course, and was super jealous when I told her about how nice Lincoln’s place was and how great the sex was. Typical friend stuff basically. Mostly though, I was thinking about it all in my own head.
I didn’t feel bad or guilty or used, that was for sure. This was a side of myself that I guess I had known was there on some level, but that had never expressed itself. I had never felt bad about my sexuality, and my parents had always made sure my siblings and I understood our bodies, how they worked, and that sex was a natural, normal thing. The fact that my mom was a PA probably had a lot to do with that, and also the fact that neither of them were religious or anything. I knew I had liked and wanted everything that happened, and if I was being honest with myself, Lincoln probably could have been even rougher and I would have been fine with it. So ok, cool. Did I want it to happen again? Yes, absolutely. I’d masturbated like four times in the last two days thinking about it. So whatever—I decided not to worry about it, and just go with it for now. This was just going to be my senior fling anyway, so I was going to enjoy myself. I mean, for all I knew, Lincoln might not even text me again. I got the answer to that last question that Tuesday night. I was over at Abbey’s working on college application essays with her when I got a text from him.
LINCOLN: Hey girl. You can come out Thursday?
I had to admit I was excited to hear from him. Not in a catching feelings kind of way, just that I’d had a great time Saturday, and I wanted to have sex with him again, for sure. And I wanted to explore this new side of myself even though I wasn’t totally sure how I felt about it.
ME: Hi! Yes I should be able to!
LINCOLN: Good. Gonna be coming from LA will get you an Uber for 7 cool?
I didn’t do anything for a second, thinking he would text again, like what he wanted us to do or something, but he didn’t. He didn’t even say an Uber to where. I was assuming his place? WTF? I had to say something though.
ME: Yes perfect!
I really wasn’t sure how to handle this conversation. I was kind of glad Abbey was downstairs getting us snacks, because it would have been even more awkward with her asking me what he was saying. He was being so just to the point. I mean, he was six years or so older than me, and had a job that kept him busy and made him travel around, so it wasn’t like I expected him to be all flirty texting me, but still. I was just kind of standing there, staring at my phone, wondering if he was even going to respond to my last text—at least give me a thumbs up emoji or something my dude, do you not understand how texting works? Then I get this:
LINCOLN: Wear a dress.
Really? He was telling me how to dress for him? Did he mean we were going somewhere that had a dress code or something? Why just “wear a dress” no explanation? I wasn’t even offended, just kind of blown away. Also, I was too busy trying to process how my body was reacting to get mad. I probably don’t need to spell that out for you. What was happening to me? The proper response to that text was probably “Fuck you man,” or at least “Why?” That was not where my brain was going, though.
LINCOLN: ?
I was still just staring at my phone, at a loss.
ME: Ok
I really didn’t know what else to text. I waited, and…nothing. It was like he was taking it for granted that he could tell me what to do, and I’d just do it. It’s probably for the best Abbey chose that moment to pop back in with our snacks. I put my phone down, and she asked me what was up.
“Lincoln wants to hang out again Thursday.”
“Oh my god, are you gonna do it?”
“Yeah why not?” I replied, trying to sound casual. She smirked at me.
“Are you gonna fuck him again?”
I mean, no point lying.“Yeah, probably,” I laughed.
“Slut. Take a picture of his dick. I want to see it.”
“What!? No, love you!” She was just messing with me now. She had always been a little more sexually adventurous than me, and would occasionally give me ******* about basically always having a longer term boyfriend, while she was more experimental. Abbey liked to hook up with college guys. She seemed to think it was hilarious that now I was the one boning an older guy I barely knew. She thought it was great, naturally, and was happy for me.
“Fuck you. I want to see his cock. His big. Black. Cock. I want to know if the rumors are true.”
“Wow. Racist,” I said, just giving her *******. “And I already told you he has a big dick. He’s not going to let me take a picture of it, and I’m not asking him. What the fuck.”
“Seriously? If you’re like, let me take a picture of your big dick, my hot best friend wants to see it, no guy is going to be like, oh no, you can’t do that. Guys can’t stop taking pics of their own dicks as it is. And especially if he knows he’s getting laid, which I think we’ve established he will be. Because you are totally on this guy’s dick. Slut.”
“Fuck off.” We went back and forth like this for a while. We always gave each other ******* about stuff like this in a friendly way. I kind of felt bad that I still hadn’t told her everything or even figured out how to explain parts of it to her. I was kind of distracted by that and the weird text exchange the rest of the evening while we were working on our essays, and I really didn’t get much done.
I spent a lot of Thursday thinking about seeing Lincoln that night, and how I felt about this whole situation. By the time I got home and started getting ready, I had basically decided fuck it—I said I’d go with it so I will. At this point in the school year, as a senior, I basically only had classes the first half of the day, so I had most of the afternoon to relax and take my time. I picked out a much sexier outfit than the sundress I’d worn before, a short blue sheath dress that I thought complimented my hair and eyes, and some strappy, low heels. I decided to wear my hair down again, since he seemed to really like that before. I also picked out some sexy underwear that I hoped he’d like. I can usually get away with not wearing a bra (that’s my way of saying I have kind of small breasts) and I decided to go without. I didn’t really feel like unpacking why I was going along with everything right then, so I just enjoyed taking my time washing my hair, shaving, and just relaxing in the hot water. I thought I looked pretty hot by the time I was finished dressing and makeup, to be honest.
The Uber was, as it turned out, for his place. This time, Lincoln was home alone when I got there, and he sure seemed to like what I’d put together for him. He greeted me with a compliment and a long deep kiss that involved a fair amount of groping my ass. It turned out James was traveling for work for a few days, so we had the place to ourselves. We drank a couple of beers and got high downstairs in the living room. I was lying with my head in Lincoln’s lap, stoned and just enjoying my buzz. That didn’t last long, though.
“Get out of that dress,” he abruptly ordered me.
I wasn’t sure exactly what was happening, but I was stoned, horny, and definitely turned on by the commanding way he’d spoken. I stood up and tried to take my dress off all cool and slow, but sheath dresses are tight and not exactly easy to slide seductively out of, so I am not sure how sexy I actually looked carrying out that process. Lincoln seemed to like what he saw though, rewarding me with a hard smack on the ass when I finished.
“That too,” was his next order.
He meant the thong I'd worn, and I obeyed, sliding it off, starting to pick up that he seemed to really be enjoying the idea of me nude while he was fully dressed. I was enjoying it too. It was a new thing for me, and I was quickly finding the power dynamic was a huge turn on. He turned me back around, running his hands over my tummy, kind of flicked gently at my belly piercing, and then moved to the skin right over my vagina, just teasing, but not touching any lower. I closed my eyes and kind of sighed. Then Lincoln pulled me onto his lap, and his mouth was on my breasts, a little rough on my nipples, but it felt so good. He quickly had me on my back, going down on me. He was just a good at this as he had been at everything else so far, and had me writhing and moaning on the couch in no time. I had never been able to have an orgasm from oral with past boyfriends, who had been kind of clumsy at it, but this was different. He knew how to use his fingers as well as his mouth, which holy ******* so good, and I probably had an orgasm within like a minute. In the back of my mind I was thinking, some woman taught him how to do this ******* right (and also that it was probably a good thing there was a comforter on this really nice sofa). The way his other hand was kind of pinning me down made it feel like he was totally dominating the situation as usual. It was a vibe like he had decided he wanted to eat me out, so he was, and if I enjoyed it great, but it was really about him taking what he wanted. I loved it.
Things seemed to go faster then. Once he was done going down on me, he put me on my knees and ass in front of the sofa while he sat down on it, leaning a little forward and still fully dressed. He undid his jeans and told me to get his cock out. He had such a beautiful penis, and it was already fully hard. I couldn’t get over how perfect it was—big, but I could still get it all the way my in mouth without hurting my jaw, which meant I was fine to go for basically as long as he wanted me to. I eagerly started giving him a blowjob. He just kind of laid back and let me take care of him for a while. His mellow mood soon started to turn more aggressive, though. I was learning that the more turned on he got, the more he liked to talk *******, and that was what was happening now. “Yeah suck that big dick white girl. You love that *******.”
Yes we established that Saturday, I kind of brattily thought, but of course he was right. I loved everything about the way he was treating me. I looked up at him while I sucked his dick, more and more turned on by this whole situation of me basically being naked and servicing him like I was part of some sort of harem he owned. After several long minutes of that, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me off his cock, standing up. I started to do the same, but he stopped me.
“Stay on your knees, slut. Keep sucking.”
That was definitely the most aggro and demeaning thing he’d said to me so far. I for sure should have been offended, but I wasn’t. I had to admit I liked it. A lot. I obeyed, now on just my knees looking submissively up at him while taking his cock slowly back into my mouth, stroking his heavy balls as I did so. He took his shirt off, revealing those perfect abs, and I couldn’t help but stop to kiss his stomach a few times. He didn’t say a word, just ****** me back onto his penis by my hair. He was basically slowly fucking my face now, putting my head where he wanted it to go and making me take him. When I’d given blowjobs before I was always pretty much in control of the situation, but this was the opposite. Somewhere in my brain my competitive side was determined to show him I was up to it, and I concentrated on being able to keep giving him a great blowjob, putting my hands on his thigh to brace myself a little. It was a uncomfortable on my knees on the hardwood floor, but I was too hyper focused on his penis to care. I felt like he was enjoying himself, because he was absolutely rock hard and I could taste his pre-cum. I could tell I was going to make him cum soon, and I guess he could too, because he pulled me off his cock again and ****** me onto the couch, onto my back.
I just laid there for a sec, overwhelmed and kind of just enjoying this hot, ripped guy towering over me. I watched as he took the rest of his clothes off. It was clear what was coming next. Lincoln basically just manhandled me, putting me in a half lying/half seated position where my head was just barely leaning up against the back of the couch. He pushed my legs back about as far as they could go and aggressively pushed his cock right into me. Just like before, it didn’t hurt at all because I was so fucking turned on and so wet. He had ****** my head into a position where I had a perfect view, straight down my body, of his penis entering my vagina, then back and forth as he fucked me. The sight of that and the contrast of his skin on mine was so hot. His hand was around my throat again; it was all just, like, raw aggression and I loved that I was making him feel that. This felt as much like him establishing something as just wanting to fuck me, but I was fine with whatever it was. He was also basically forsing me to participate in the talking he liked to do too, which escalated fast.
“Yeah that’s right, you like my big dick don’t you bitch?”
“Yes I love it, so good.”
“Yeah—you getting fucked right. This is my pussy now. Whose pussy is this white girl?”
I was riding a continual wave of little orgasms by now, so I just kind of moaned incoherently at him. Lincoln was fucking me hard, but not particularly fast, and the hand that wasn’t on my throat was toying with my clit, contributing significantly to the multiple orgasms I was enjoying.
He again demanded: “Bitch, whose pussy is this?”
I just kind of moaned again, and his grip on my throat tightened a little, to where he was actually ******* me. I could feel more of his weight pressing me into the couch as he leaned into me. This was the moment when I would have freaked out if ever I was going to, and I probably should have. After all, I still barely knew this very strong guy who had his hand around my throat. Of course, I didn’t freak out. What I did instead was cum again, hard, then panted at him, “Yours, it’s yours baby please fuck me, please don’t stop.” He laughed and kept going, still ******* me a little, not enough that I couldn’t breathe, but enough that I could tell he was doing it, for sure.
“That’s right you’re my bitch now. I own your pretty white ass.”
“Yes, yes.” I was just cumming all over his dick, totally overwhelmed at this point.
“Say it Sophia.” More pressure on my throat for a second.
“Yes, I’m your bitch, you own me, please, please baby,” I whimpered, and I heard that low laugh I was starting to recognize as satisfaction with my responses. He was starting to fuck me faster now, and I had a feeling that I knew what was coming next. Lincoln knew I was on the pill from talking after our first time together, and I felt like he was about to take full advantage of that. And I wanted him to—it felt like the last step in something I’d set in motion that day at the gym.
“I’m gonna cum in that tight pussy! You ready bitch?”
“Yes, yes, cum in me, cum in me please, please baby!”
I really did want it, too. I’d never let anyone do that to me before, but I wanted it badly now. I’d totally surrendered to Lincoln, and it felt so fucking good. I heard him groan, and felt his cock throb inside of me. I couldn’t feel him actually cum, but I knew it was happening by the way his body was responding, and it put me even further into that submissive headspace that was quickly becoming the default when I was around this guy. I came hard again too, wrapping my arms tight around him, and whispered “Thank you.”
He must have liked that, because he laughed and said, “That’s right white girl,” and gave my ass a hard smack as he got off me.
He put both knees on the sofa and pulled my head toward his cock by my hair. I kind of knew what he wanted, and if a past boyfriend had tried it, I would have shut it down immediately. Lincoln, though, put me this mindset where I just wanted to let him have his way, anything he wanted. Also Abbey was right, I was obsessed with this guy’s cock and right now I just wanted it in my mouth again. He was still mostly hard and covered with both his cum and mine, but I obediently licked and sucked, cleaning him off, then gave the tip what I hoped was a cute, flirty kiss. I doubt I exactly looked like some glamorous porn star at that point, but he must have been pleased, because he laughed and said, “Good girl.”
I feel like I should clarify that swallowing after a blowjob was something I’d done with the handful of other guys I’d been with too. It wasn’t a new thing I just started with Lincoln. Some girls are grossed out by it, which I don’t understand, but it always felt like the natural thing to do to me. What was different was that in the past it was just a neutral thing for me. I’d seen it in porn, I knew boys liked it, and it felt I guess a little rude, for lack of better word, to like spit it out or whatever. Plus, messy. Now, though, I was actively liking doing it, a lot. It was probably the intensity of the attraction and sexual chemistry I felt like I had with Lincoln, which was far greater than anything I’d experienced before.
Anyway, after that, we were both exhausted. Lincoln got up to get us fresh beers while I went to the bathroom to clean up a little. The beers were so cold and tasted so good. After a few minutes, I looked over at him and asked, “How’d you know?’
“How’d I know what?” he replied, grinning. I felt like he knew exactly what I meant but was going to make me say it anyway. Whatever. I was hardly in a position to complain given what I’d just let him do—no, let’s be honest, pretty much begged him to do.
“How did you know I’d let you do all that—the spanking before, and everything that happened just now? How did you know I wasn’t going to just, like, freak out or some *******?”
He looked at me for a few seconds, then said, “I felt you out, and I could tell. Then I pushed you a little at first and you were totally into it.” He seemed to be kind of pondering for a moment. “Tell you the truth though, I knew just from talking to you. A lot of girls, especially white girls, are into that ******* and it’s cool. I was pretty sure with you from the way you looked at me, how you acted, from the start, so I pushed it and took the chance. I’d have backed off if you said no, but you wanted it. You loved that *******.”
It wasn’t a question, but I felt like he wanted me to agree. “I did love it.” I was curled up next to him on the comforter kind of just stroking his chest. “I never knew that about myself before.” It felt weird but good to say that out loud. I wasn’t totally sure what to make of the rest of what he’d just said.
“You’re gonna keep loving it too.” His hand was kind of cupping my ass, and I sort of murmured in agreement. I was pretty sure he wasn’t wrong about that. I was still running my hands over the muscles in his chest when my eyes wandered downward.
“Oh my god, you’re like half hard again. How do you do that?” He just laughed and I stroked his penis gently with my hand. Crazy. Dude was a machine. “Want to hear something funny?” I asked.
“Funny? Sure…”
His eyes were kind of half closed as he sipped his beer, and I guess he was enjoying me stroking him because he was still kind of half hard. “So, I told my best friend Abbey about you.”
“Oh yeah? What’d you tell her?”
“Well…that you were hot, and had a super nice place, and…that you fucked my brains out.” He laughed softly again. “And…she was like, take picture of his dick, I want to see it.” I laughed a little nervously, “I guess she didn’t believe everything I told her.” He thought that was hilarious, laughing so hard he had to sit up. I was laughing for real now too—it was pretty stupid, but funny.
“What she heard some rumors, huh? That’s some racist ******* right there.” He was still chuckling though, clearly not offended. He had this really sexy, husky laugh. He lay back again, and I was pretty surprised when the next thing he said, still smiling, was, “The fuck you waitin’ on then? Take your picture.” I didn’t say anything for a second, then laughed and grabbed my phone. He was definitely hard again now. I took one picture that showed his chest and abs really nicely as well, then I put my other hand around his penis, and took a second one.
“You know, for scale,” I said, still laughing. He thought that was hilarious too. I put my phone down, but kept stroking him. I thought that I probably was getting a little obsessed sexually with this guy, but oh well.
“Now take care of that *******,” he suddenly ordered me, in the same abrupt, commanding way as before.
Lincoln wasn’t smiling now, and he clearly expected me to do exactly what he was telling me. I felt a little thrill that I can’t really describe; it was both sexual and something else too. I was also still a little blown away that he was already fully erect again. I obeyed immediately though, first licking and kissing the top of his cock while I stroked him, then taking him as deep as I could, accidentally gagging myself a little again. I went slow, wanting to impress him, trying to get his cock as wet as I could, then going lower to lick and suck his balls every minute or so. He clearly liked that, groaning a little. He was just relaxing, lying back and letting me me take care of him. It was a long, fun blowjob, and I was really loving just kind of worshipping his gorgeous cock. Eventually though, I could tell he was about to cum (again!).
I felt him grab a fist full of my hair and he kind of grunted,“Yeah, here it comes bitch, take that *******!”
I was slightly startled when he actually came in my mouth some, but I was able to get almost all of it down. I couldn’t believe he still had any semen left after what he’d just done to me earlier. I kept sucking, getting the little bit of semen I’d missed, making sure I cleaned him up again. This whole situation is crazy, I thought. It was like…well, like exactly what he’d made me say. Like I was his bitch. What was happening with me?
TO BE CONTINUED.
