Six years ago I found myself finishing up grad school, drinking too much, and behaving very promiscuously. I regularly combed Tinder, OkCupid and bars looking for what I told myself could be a relationship, but always ended up being one night stands or flings. One of these women I met on OkCupid early in the Spring. Her name was Lauren. She was an African-American woman who had recently moved to the city and worked from home as a marketing consultant for a bra retailer (I'm not making that detail up! I swear!). I was 29, she was 27. We exchanged a few messages and followed up with a phone conversation. She wanted to make sure she knew I was a real person and had an acceptable voice before we met. Amongst other things, she asked me what I was looking for. I told her a relationship. I told her this because I knew it was what she wanted to hear.
We met up for a lunch date. She texted me a picture of herself as I was walking from the bus. There was nothing revealing about the picture - her with bangs, librarian glasses, wearing a white blouse and blue jeans - but the timing at which she sent it led me to guess that she was in fact looking for the same thing I was. We had lunch at this dirty-hipster place of my choosing. Lauren was a thick-armed, thick-thighed woman in sunglasses and wearing mostly dark clothes. She apologized for being late. After a while of talking and eating, she asked if I wanted to come back to her place. I pretended that this sounded like too much too soon and that I wasn't sure...in reality, I had a condom in my pocket. I simply did not want to come across as too eager.
It worked. Lauren said she understood. I finished my ******* and "re-considered." I decided that sure, I guess I have some free time. We walked over to her apartment building, which was a high rise in a nice neighborhood of Chicago. We sat in her studio and drank red wine (the only real thing we had in common, looking back on it) and talked some more. The conversation gradually slid into fairly sexy territory...and we ended up having sex on her bed by the end of the evening. She could not believe it when she realized I'd had a condom with me that whole time. She called me "daddy" while I was inside her. That was a little weird. But hot. I did not spend the night.
Over the next five days, we exchanged text messages that became increasingly shifty and contradictory on her part. First she texted me how was I doing, and that she felt slutty for sleeping with me on the first date, that wasn't something she ever did...the next day she texted me, "want you between my thighs (emoji)." She would text me when she was getting her nails done. What was she doing? I wondered at first. I decided she was vulnerable and insecure and that I would take harness this place of life she was in for my benefit.
Lauren asked if I wanted to come over on Thursday evening. I turned her down. I was too busy editing my thesis film. I did not want to give her impression that I needed her all that much. Before our next date on Friday, she texted me - "Hey, idea. How about we don't have sex this time and just hang out and get to know each other better?" I replied - "Sure."
In my head, I thought - Bullshit. Because I felt entitled to sex when I wanted it and how I wanted it and knew that I was going to seduce her whether she knew it or not.
So I returned to her apartment. Bought some wine on the way over. Took the elevator all the way up to the seventh floor. She made me take my shoes off before entering. I suppose OCD tendencies were the only other thing we had in common. We watched T.V again, drank wine again. I gradually sidled closer to her. Put my hand on her leg. Put my arm around her shoulders. She didn't resist either one. I kissed her cheek - she tasted like makeup, which she wore too much of (this wasn't just something she did for me, it was obviously always). She said,
"Stop it. That makes me horny."
She said something to the affect that I was making her want to do what we shouldn't be doing.
I pulled away from her. Lay back on the couch. I said,
"It's up to you. I wouldn't be ashamed of natural impulses. But it's cool with me."
At some point I glanced back over at her. She was kind of sort of glancing at me. I'm not sure if I asked if she wanted me to kiss her, or if I just moved in and pressed myself against her. But anyway, we made out on her couch for a while. Then moved to the bed, where I soon found my head buried between her thighs. My tongue curled up and down the strip of her marshy purple labia. In my experience, black women tend to have purple labia. She grabbed at my hair with one hand and made breathy sounds. She tasted gooey, and with a hint of *******. Her period was ending. When she kissed me after I was done, she said,
"Taste myself!"
Would you believe that I hit it raw?
Well, if you read the title of this post, yes, I guess you would.
She was okay with it because it was the end of her cycle. So not much risk of pregnancy. But I don't believe she was on any birth control. I had not had random unprotected sex like this since college. I have an inherent tendency to get rough when my cock is bare inside a woman. And that's how I gave it to Lauren, ultimately; slowly at first, to hold off my own orgasm, then quite hard, a little vicious.
I held up one of her legs.
She called me "Daddy."
Whap whap whap whap
She yelped,
"Daddy!"
I came inside her balls deep, without making any pretense about pulling out.
Not much later, wiping off my cock with toilet paper in her bathroom, surprised that there was no period ******* on my cock, I wondered if I'd gone too far. The devilish side of me (which had taken over completely by now) said,
"Nah. You did just what you needed to."
Lauren was in a cuddly mood. We rolled around on her bed. I fucked her again before I left. I took the wine. I did not spend the night.
I did leave my watch on her bedside table. She texted me about it while I was on the red line.
This was not the last time I saw her.
Let me know if you want to hear more.
We met up for a lunch date. She texted me a picture of herself as I was walking from the bus. There was nothing revealing about the picture - her with bangs, librarian glasses, wearing a white blouse and blue jeans - but the timing at which she sent it led me to guess that she was in fact looking for the same thing I was. We had lunch at this dirty-hipster place of my choosing. Lauren was a thick-armed, thick-thighed woman in sunglasses and wearing mostly dark clothes. She apologized for being late. After a while of talking and eating, she asked if I wanted to come back to her place. I pretended that this sounded like too much too soon and that I wasn't sure...in reality, I had a condom in my pocket. I simply did not want to come across as too eager.
It worked. Lauren said she understood. I finished my ******* and "re-considered." I decided that sure, I guess I have some free time. We walked over to her apartment building, which was a high rise in a nice neighborhood of Chicago. We sat in her studio and drank red wine (the only real thing we had in common, looking back on it) and talked some more. The conversation gradually slid into fairly sexy territory...and we ended up having sex on her bed by the end of the evening. She could not believe it when she realized I'd had a condom with me that whole time. She called me "daddy" while I was inside her. That was a little weird. But hot. I did not spend the night.
Over the next five days, we exchanged text messages that became increasingly shifty and contradictory on her part. First she texted me how was I doing, and that she felt slutty for sleeping with me on the first date, that wasn't something she ever did...the next day she texted me, "want you between my thighs (emoji)." She would text me when she was getting her nails done. What was she doing? I wondered at first. I decided she was vulnerable and insecure and that I would take harness this place of life she was in for my benefit.
Lauren asked if I wanted to come over on Thursday evening. I turned her down. I was too busy editing my thesis film. I did not want to give her impression that I needed her all that much. Before our next date on Friday, she texted me - "Hey, idea. How about we don't have sex this time and just hang out and get to know each other better?" I replied - "Sure."
In my head, I thought - Bullshit. Because I felt entitled to sex when I wanted it and how I wanted it and knew that I was going to seduce her whether she knew it or not.
So I returned to her apartment. Bought some wine on the way over. Took the elevator all the way up to the seventh floor. She made me take my shoes off before entering. I suppose OCD tendencies were the only other thing we had in common. We watched T.V again, drank wine again. I gradually sidled closer to her. Put my hand on her leg. Put my arm around her shoulders. She didn't resist either one. I kissed her cheek - she tasted like makeup, which she wore too much of (this wasn't just something she did for me, it was obviously always). She said,
"Stop it. That makes me horny."
She said something to the affect that I was making her want to do what we shouldn't be doing.
I pulled away from her. Lay back on the couch. I said,
"It's up to you. I wouldn't be ashamed of natural impulses. But it's cool with me."
At some point I glanced back over at her. She was kind of sort of glancing at me. I'm not sure if I asked if she wanted me to kiss her, or if I just moved in and pressed myself against her. But anyway, we made out on her couch for a while. Then moved to the bed, where I soon found my head buried between her thighs. My tongue curled up and down the strip of her marshy purple labia. In my experience, black women tend to have purple labia. She grabbed at my hair with one hand and made breathy sounds. She tasted gooey, and with a hint of *******. Her period was ending. When she kissed me after I was done, she said,
"Taste myself!"
Would you believe that I hit it raw?
Well, if you read the title of this post, yes, I guess you would.
She was okay with it because it was the end of her cycle. So not much risk of pregnancy. But I don't believe she was on any birth control. I had not had random unprotected sex like this since college. I have an inherent tendency to get rough when my cock is bare inside a woman. And that's how I gave it to Lauren, ultimately; slowly at first, to hold off my own orgasm, then quite hard, a little vicious.
I held up one of her legs.
She called me "Daddy."
Whap whap whap whap
She yelped,
"Daddy!"
I came inside her balls deep, without making any pretense about pulling out.
Not much later, wiping off my cock with toilet paper in her bathroom, surprised that there was no period ******* on my cock, I wondered if I'd gone too far. The devilish side of me (which had taken over completely by now) said,
"Nah. You did just what you needed to."
Lauren was in a cuddly mood. We rolled around on her bed. I fucked her again before I left. I took the wine. I did not spend the night.
I did leave my watch on her bedside table. She texted me about it while I was on the red line.
This was not the last time I saw her.
Let me know if you want to hear more.
