With my dress still hiked up over my waist and my bare ass in the air, I ponder how the fuck I’m gonna get out of this one, as Fifty carries me over his shoulder to his bedroom.
Our entire date thus far has consisted of him depicting a highly controlled, feverishly angry beast under a façade of primp and proper politeness.
But I’m not fucking stupid.
I ask him about how he lost his job…
He clenches his fist and jaw while making sinister sarcastic remarks about his boss, then proceeds to grin pleasantly and say, “By the way, did I mention how lovely your dress looks on you?”
I try to tickle him…
He grabs my wrist firmly and through gritted teeth demands “DON’T DO THAT” only to follow it up with a kiss to my knuckles.
Well, I’M NOT BUYING IT BUDDY!
Don’t ask how I managed to let this psycho throw me over his shoulder to start heading over to his bedroom/possible location of my imminent death.
Maybe it was the way he ran his finger up my dress from my ankle to my knee when asking me, “So ya wanna get out of here?”
Or maybe it was the way he dragged his tongue deliciously across my collar bone, unraveling my sense and sensibility before kissing me.
OR MAYBE it was the way he licked up from my knee to my inner thigh, then spanked me and said, “I bet you really like this…”
OK fine!
Maybe my libido has completely overtaken my logic once again.
Regardless, I am quite possibly being carried to a ravenous rape/murder scene that my friends will only hear about faintly in the background on the news while they text and tweet at the gym.
Ugh.
In the bedroom, he slams me on the bed as I take a gander around.
No dressers or drawers around.
No lamp in the corner.
No pillows on the bed.
No sheets.
No hope.
God dammit, man, fuck my life.
Fifty then jumps on top of me and begins aggressively groping me up and down. I can’t explain how confused I am at this point considering how awkwardly scary this night has been and how surprisingly wet I now am.
I am a Gemini.
Ok think, Jayla, THINK! How are we gonna get out of this one?
Just as I feel Fifty’s dick get hard against my groin, I hear him let out a soft, high-pitched whimper, as he very innocently states, “Ooooooh, Mommyyyyyy…”
….como fucking what?
Did he say what I think he just said?
YESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS MY SAVING GRACE THIS IS MY LIFELINE!!!!!!!!!!!
The way I see it, this boy wants to be dominated, humiliated, and possibly tortured.
I got this.
I almost instantly push him off me, grab him by the collar, and firmly demand, “What do you want me to do to you?”
“I want you to make me cum…” he replies in the same Elmo voice.
I slap him hard across the face.
“Well I’m gonna do what I want to you and you’re gonna do exactly what you’re told!” I reply.
Fifty looks at me questioningly, a look of ever-increasing arousal emanating from his glare.
I slap him hard again, “And don’t say no to me…say ‘Yes, ma’am’!”
Cocoa’s call-girl dominatrix advice echoes through my ears as the words escape me.
Holy shit, I have NO IDEA where this is coming from! I’m usually soft and subservient in the bed…I sure as hell have never played Dominating Diva. But hey, I’m already in it and I’ve FINALLY got control of the situation…so why not?
I take Fifty in my hands and ask him, “Do you like it when I stroke you like this?”
Fifty nods…
“What do you say now?” I demand in a punishing tone.
“Yes, ma’am, I do…” he complies.
Good boy!
Then I figure I may as well REALLY fuck with him now:
Me: *still stroking him and in a casual, upbeat tone* So what’s your favorite fruit?! *smiling and batting my eyelashes*
Fifty Shades: *confused as fuck* Umm…what?
I slap him across the face.
Me: *angry and firm and pointing at him* Don’t you question me. *tightening my grip around his dick and now softening my tone, adding a hint of eroticism in it* So, baby…what’s your favorite fruit…?
Fifty Shades: *looking back at me lasciviously and smiling devilishly* Peaches…I love the taste of peaches…
Me: *scoffing salaciously* Mmm…that’s what I thought… *come-hithering towards him* Now…come here and kiss me…
Fifty obeys accordingly and puts his lips to mine, his tongue working wonders on mine the way it has been on my body all night.
“Now…kiss me THERE” I demand while pointing down below.
Fifty then complies and goes to remove my panties, as I slap him hard upside the head.
“I didn’t say to take those off!” I yell at him.
“Yes, ma’am!” he appropriately replies.
Well hey hey now, I’m pretty good at this shit!
Fifty then begins to run his tongue up the length of my lips, as my entire body and tone soften at once. “Yes…that’s a good boy” I tell him as my eyes roll to the back of my head.
Now slipping his tongue slightly into my panties, Fifty begins to undo the zipper to his jeans and pull out his dick.
JESUS…CHRIST.
I contemplate taking a picture to mass-text to all my girlfriends…possibly Instagram as well.
That thing looks like my fucking fist and forearm put together.
It looks like a never-ending wall of flesh comparable to the size of a new-born baby.
His dick looks like it can very well kill me!
“Don’t touch that, that’s mine! Put that shit away now!” I yell down at him.
He obeys.
Thank God…I don’ know how I’d explain that emergency room entry to my parents.
“Now make me cum, you” I tell him as I slide off my panties and let him finally work his tongue on the one spot that counts, his fingers sliding in and sending euphoric sensations up throughout my body.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaand…then I cum (yeah nothing special I cum quite easily actually).
To keep in role, I then tell Fifty, “Now, go jerk off in the corner and I want you to cum in your jeans!” now pointing to the far dark corner of the bed.
I more so suggest this in the heat of the moment, however, I’d be damned if he actually does do it.
Well, folks…
I’ll be damned.
Fifty then willingly gets up and proceeds to jerk off in the corner of the bed…
I fall asleep before he finishes.
I’ll say I very successfully evaded death on this one.
Super angry, crazy, control freak my ass…
Turns out he was just a baby boy who needed a good spankin.
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