ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴs sᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐒
____

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 behind the vending machine as I watched Lucille walk past, discreetly following her into our current events class so that I could sit right beside her. To my dismay, I didn't catch Lucille by surprise when I popped up to her right. Instead, she looked at me with a look of annoyance. "You got cotton between your ears boy?"

I scoffed, "you love me." Lucille scrunched up her face, "is everybody from around here as delusional as you are?" I quickly glanced at our professor, who did not at all look close to being ready, before looking back at Lucille. I didn't have time to be messing around.

"Look," I spoke in a low tone, not wanting anybody to hear us. Lucille already looked unamused, but that didn't stop me. "I found your little Twitter. So I would like to ask you out on a date. Say yes."

Lucille scrunched up her face at me, appearing as if she was trying to keep from laughing. "Boy I don't have to do shit with you," she insisted, "move." I don't know what was with this woman and thinking her words had infinite power, but telling me to move was no where near enough to get me to give up.

I opened up my phone, thinking of another trick up my sleeve. "This ain't you?" I asked Lucille, my brightness down for her protection. The look on her face, truly shocked, told me all I needed to know. "Oh," I said, "okay. That's what I thought. So again I say, I would like to go out on a date. Say yes."

"No," Lucille persisted. "So what? You found my Twitter? You want a fucking cookie you stalker?" I cocked an eyebrow at my future girlfriend. "How about I just airdrop-" Lucille gripped my wrist, seeming to forget our whereabouts. "No!" The whole class, even the professor that was writing on the board, stopped to look at us. I smirked at Lucille.

She sighed, clearly defeated. "Fine," she said in a low whisper, now eyeing me aggresively. "One date, white boy. That's it." I nodded along, this silly bitch thinks she's only giving me one date? "Number?" I asked Lucille, "Address?"

"Forty Lovell Lane" Lucille mumbled as I typed the address into my phone. "And the number is 617-884-2367." I looked Lucille up and down, and could tell that she cared about her appearance.

She wore a black sundress, which reminded me of the video with the brown one, and a black choker. Her hair was pulled out of her face into a high ponytail and her black sandals displayed her bare but clear polished toes. "You look cute," I complimented her. She rolled her eyes, "don't push your luck, you blue eyed freak." Aye, she noticed my eye color, I'll take that.

"Anyways," I said before getting up to walk out of class, "be ready by evening. You got any family members I gotta meet in order to take you out, or no?" Lucille shook her head, still looking annoyed with me. "No," she said in a very calm, or tired manner.

"Okay," I got out before getting up and going my separate way. "Marcus!" the professor called out, but I kept walking anyway. She should have known by now that I never cared about her class. I did this shit last year too and somehow, I still passed.

***

I pulled up to Lucille's, having alerted her prior to I would be on my way shortly and that I wanted her to be dressed up nicely. I wore a while button up shirt with black slacks and black loafers. Lucille came out within five minutes of my loud arrival, dressed in a white open back dress that was sleeveless and hugged her body just right. It made its way down to her ankles. Accompanied with her dress, she wore white stilettos and her hair was in the same style that it had been in this morning.

I came around to open the door for Lucille, though I don't know why. Do I look like a fucking gentleman?

The drive to La Pizzeria, an Italian pizza restaurant in the urban part of town was relatively quiet. Lucille didn't say much, barely answering my questions. I sighed, looking at her as we pulled up. "What's your issue shorty?" Lucille gave me a sly, corner of the eye look. "Are we here?" she avoided my question. I nodded, "yes," I said, "would you like me to help you out of my car?" Lucille ignored my question once again. Instead, she opened the door and got out herself. I shut my eyes real tight, this aggy bitch.

Thirty minutes into eating, I had a pasta salad and Lucille had some kind of soup, I attempted yet again to prompt some kind of conversation. "So," I started, but Lucille immediately cut me off.

"Can you just admit that you wanna fuck, already?!" Ms. attitude rudely asked me. I rolled my eyes, "yeah!" I beamed with a smile, "I wanna fuck you like a slut, bitch! Is that what you want me to tell you Lucille? Damn, I just wanted you to have a fun night, be a lil gentlemen or something, but fuck! You're making it hard."

Lucille looked at me before looking down at her hands, I instantly regretted what I had said to her.

"Look," I reluctantly sighed, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you a bitch or even said any of that. I don't know your past and what you may or may not have gone through to assume that a man only wants that from you." Lucille shook her head, probably ready to tell me off before running off. "Don't apologize," she insisted, "I like that kind of stuff, Marcus." I was taken back, confused at what Lucille's words meant. "Huh?"

"I-I don't know," Lucille said softly, seeming embarrassed or maybe regretful. She rubbed her left arm with her right hand. "I like that. Getting all mad and aggressive at me, telling me you wanna fuck me like a slut... keep doing it." I could feel my manhood literally jump at that sentence. Lucille truly was the perfect target. I mean, not that she was a "target" per se, because I did truthfully want a girlfriend, but "target" in the sense that most women couldn't handle me. Whether Lucille could or couldn't, I was gonna make her. She didn't have a choice.

"Why don't we get a to-go box," I said in a much calmer voice. "I wanna show you my secret spot." Lucille nodded at my request, "okay," she obliged. Would you look at that? All it took was yelling at the hoe and she was all of a sudden compliant? And people say women don't like toxic men.

I have many "secret spots" around Newport Beach. I drove to a forest like area, which in Cali is rare, and opened the door for Lucille. It was the least I could do, given what I was about to do to her. "Cross the street," I requested, "I'll be there in a second." Lucille didn't ask any questions, she did as was asked. I retrieved a rope from my trunk, looking at the duct tape that sat before me, wondering if I should grab that, too. "Yeah," I said aloud as if I were having a conversation with anybody other than myself. "Yeah. Let's grab that too, Marcus."

Lucille furrowed her brows and pointed at the rope and tape in hand. "Why do you have a rop-" I cut her off, "come on" I encouraged, using my free hand to direct her. I led a now seemingly worried Lucille deep into the woods. "Please don't kill me," she spoke ever so softly, as if her words were more so meant for God's ears rather than mine.

***

I gripped the collar of Lucille's shirt as I slammed her back into a thick tree. She winced, but it only made me all the more hornier. "Make me happy," I whispered into Lucille's right ear as the wind blew some of her pulled back hair before her eyes, "and I'll make you happy. I think I'm a pretty fair guy."

Lucille quite literally gulped as she slowly nodded, seeming scared to look away. I imagined she had realized that this "white boy" was far more advanced than what she previously knew to be Caucasian males. "Hug the tree backwards," I then demanded, which I truly did not expect Lucille to understand. She placed her palms on the tree, below her waist, proving to me that she could follow directions.

I took the rope, placing it behind Lucille's backside, and wrapping it around the entire tree. Lucille subtly tried to wiggle a little, but her efforts were nothing short of useless. I made my way around, looking her in the eyes and leaning towards her face as if I were about to kiss her. Lucille didn't look as though she wanted a kiss, but she also looked relatively accepting of one. I surprised her with duck tape instead, pressing it firm against her lips, watching her panic as she didn't have any consent to this.

I held on tightly to Lucille's collar, using all my strength to rip her dress down the middle. The growing worry in Lucille's face was just egging me more and more. I pulled my pants down, keeping my boxers on, as I stared Lucille's body up and down. She had the perfect pear shape. I bent down to grab her ankle, pressing it against my boner.

Lucille didn't wear a bra, so it was only her light pink lace panties and her bare tits. She looked on at me, not attempting to fight back, as I rubbed the sole of her foot against my boner, making me harder and harder. At my absolute hardest, I was 9 inches long.

Once I had finally felt hard enough, I untied Lucille. The thought of her running away didn't cross my mind, because she'd look like a loony if she did so, given she was naked. Lucille weakly slid down the rough tree bark. I knelt down so that I was eye level with her. I caressed her face for a moment, pretending to be sorry, before I suddenly ripped the duct tape off like a sour bandaid, with Lucille's eyes telling me just how bad it hurt.

I opened the buttons that ran down my boxers. It seemed that Lucille wasn't a dumb girl, she caught the drift. I leaned my upper body back as my lower body crashed into her face, placing my cock against her lips. Lucille yet again showed me why she was perfect for me. She did not hesitate. She slowly opened her mouth, and without another second being wasted, I shoved my entire length into her mouth, making her gag and retch. Her eyes went wide as I pumped in and out of her mouth. I continued pumping, my balls bouncing off her chin, until eventually, my manhood jerked as I filled her throat with cum.

Breathing heavily, I pulled away. Lucille coughed a little, as I decided let her take a few deep breaths before I put her back on all fours. When she recovered, I forced my boxers off and aggressively turned her face toward the tree, by her hair. I slapped her ass as hard as I could, her small cries being the music to my ears. When she least expected it, I entered her from behind.

Lucille yelped out once more, but didn't resist as I dug deeper and deeper into her vagina. For somebody of her caliber, she was so fucking tight.

"Are you on birth control?" I asked Lucille in between my grunts, still maintaining my grip and roughness before changing my mind. "Nah never mind," I breathed out, "I'll give you plan b money. It's the least I could do." Lucille was quiet, not silent but more so trying to pace herself. I didn't expect her to struggle this badly, but then again, I don't know her. I keep trying to make assumptions about her.

I rested my abdomen on Lucille's back as I came, the vanilla bean scent of her hair filling up my nose. I kissed her shoulder blades, kind of feeling bad for my overly aggressive behavior. "I'm done" I whispered, pulling out. Lucille stayed in position for a moment, and I was about to crouch down and talk to her, but she started getting up.

"Are you mad at me?" I blurted, not meaning to ask.
"No," she said softly, her eyes watery. "It was painful but it felt good. You're cool, white boy." I scoffed, "let's stop by my place so I can get you some clothes."