Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of fictional rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.
*****
Sometimes, I feel as if I am the stupidest ivy-league educated cunt in the world.
I should have known better than to ask for moral compass from members on a kink website. Anyway, here's to all of You folks who encouraged me to meet my bull.
You also kept flooding my inbox with inquiries regarding what happened. You will be happy to know that, yes is my answer. I did ended up taking your advices and sneaked out to meet my bull last Friday night.
Daddy D. Thank you for not objecting to my text request, thereby granting me the permission to describe our first meeting.
At around 11:00 PM, I snuck out of the house while my husband was asleep.
I wore my dark green silk blouse (after all, it was still St. Patrick's day) and my favorite black mini skirt. On top, I wore a black tweed jacket with white speckles. I also wore a diamond centered flower with a pair of diamond earrings. Underneath, I wore a sheer pantyhose and a matching black lace thong underwear.
A lot of drunk green revelers from the celebration of St. Patrick's Day still littered the Financial District at around midnight.
I stood at the corner of the meeting spot, and swung my head in different directions, searching for my bull.
And there he was. He wasn't wearing a protection mask and I instantly recognized him with his broad shoulder and his dark facial feature with contrasting white teething smile as shown in his photos. He was tall, athletically built African-American gentleman who looked even better in person.
He quickly waved to me from across the street and walked over.
When he held out his right hand, I also held out my hand to shake his hand. But, he raised both his hands, put his face next to me and gave me a peck on my face.
"Good evening, Lass (Not my real name)! We finally get to meet in person."
"Dwayne (Not his real name), it's a pleasure to meet you. Is that what You want me to call You?"
"Ha ha. You can just call me Mister D... or daddy D. And you?" he responded with a broad smile.
"Lass is fine."
"My God! Let me take a look at you again. Your photos don't do justice." He looked at me up and down.
"Thank you. You are not so bad yourself." I gave him a smile for his complement.
After greeting each other, we walked over to a local bar in the area.
We soon found a couple of empty stools as he ordered a beer for himself and a white wine for me.
We started to make some small talk for first 15 minutes or so. I told him about the general area where my husband and I live, and my specialty at work.
He mentioned that he lives in Berkely and he is into security business and a lot of other things. He said he was glad that there are now so many Asian women who are into black men, undoing the government's racist policies. I agreed with him about the racism in the U.S. and how black lives matter. Interestingly, he said he stopping smoking because it was hurting his liver. ☺️
I told him the details of some of my experience in kink, or lack of it. He said he was the ultimate alpha male and knew how to give me what I crave. His specialty, he said, is dominating white and Asian women, exploring their limits, and slowly pushing beyond those limits.
Wow! His deep cavalier voice in person made him sound so much sexier than just reading his messages online.
After a bit more of chatting, he paused for a few seconds and asked me the question.
"So, how do you want to do this?"
"Do what?"
"You said you wanted to check my 10-inch tool out," he took my hand and placed it on top of his pants crotch area.
"You don't beat around the bushes," I became extremely embarrassed and looked around to make sure no other bar patron had noticed.
"No I don't," he laughed. "I could take it out and you can feel it but others may look."
"How about if we go to the restroom to measure it, not out here?" I l replied as I looked around for the restroom.
"Fine by me," he answered following my eyes to search for the restroom.
"Does this place even have a unisex restroom?"
"I dunno. Here, let's do this. I'll go find it first. If there ain't no separate bathroom, I'll go into one of the stalls. Knock 3 times and I'll open the stall to let you in," with that, he stood up and walked to toward the restroom in the back.
About a couple of minutes later, I followed him to the restroom.
This bar actually had separate Men's and Women's restrooms. I was about to walk toward the Women's bathroom but realized he probably went into the Men's restroom.
I hesitated. I have never been inside a Men's restroom before. But I had a pretty good idea of what to expect in there from the movies.
When I reached the Men's restroom door, I looked around to make sure no one was watching me. I was about to go inside when an elderly man suddenly walked out. He seemed startled to see me as I was blocking his path. This was so freaking embarrassing I just wanted to go home at that moment.
The Men's restroom was a small dingy place with a wash basin, a single stall and the urinals. I have never looked at the urinals this close, so its shape was quite interesting. The floor looked like it had not been mopped in a while.
There was a problem: The stall was missing a door.
I looked inside the stall. He saw my head rubbernecking into the stall and quickly grabbed my hand to bring me into the doorless stall.
Inside the stall was dingy as well with graffities written everywhere. The toilet bowl had some urine in there too; the previous user neglected to flush afterwards.
"But my God, Mr. D. There is no door. Anyone can see. Let's go to a different bar." I whispered to him that I was reluctant to check his penis size inside an open stall.
"Babe, hold up. It's only gonna take a second. Okay, babe. Here it comes," he pulled me closer to him as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his penis.
I hesitated at first. But slowly, I took out my Ikea measuring tape out of my purse and started measuring his penis starting from his crotch.
