The fact that I described myself as Tyson’s fuck toy feels wild and strange after we’ve finished, and yet no less true— I’m his, and I love the feeling that he’s in charge of my body, in charge of positions, in charge of me. I’ve never given up control like this before, I’ve never considered myself someone else’s property before, but I love it. I love the feeling of Tyson possessing me. I love the idea of being used for his pleasure— especially since he’s so good at pleasuring me as well. I trust him completely, and the more I give in, the better it all feels, the harder I orgasm, the more I want.

We finish the night exhausted, my body sore and bruised from where he got carried away spanking me.

He rubs the area tenderly, but I like the redness on my butt every bit as much as I liked the marks he left on my neck. I’m lying flat on the comforter while he runs his hands up and down me, reviewing my body, like he’s cataloging all my curves and tender places.

“You’ll be so sore tomorrow, Anna. I should have held back even more,” he says, shaking his head.

“I loved it,” I say sleepily. “Don’t hold back.”

“When I stop holding back, you’ll understand why I did,” he answers. His cock is no longer hard, but it’s still massive, pressed against me with numbing heat. He came three times, and each time I took him in my mouth afterward, licking the come away, preparing him to fuck me again. The last time he shook his head, and admitted defeat— I’d worn him out. It still feels like a wild victory, knowing he not only came while fucking me, but came until he physically couldn’t any more.

“What time is it?” I ask, arching back so he can run his fingertips across my breasts.

“Nearly seven o’clock in the morning,” he admits.

“Seven?” I ask, startled.

“That’s right,” he says, kissing my temple. “We fucked all night. You have amazing stamina, for a virgin.”

“Former virgin,” I say with a smile, thinking on how it felt as I rode him, sliding my hips down onto his cock, letting him go places no one had ever ventured. He kisses my temple again, and it feels like my heart is glowing.

“We need to go, though. They’ll be opening up the theater soon, and besides, I have to drive to Raleigh today.”

“Raleigh? For what?” I ask, turning to him.

He licks his lips unhappily, like this is a topic he didn’t want to bring up when we’re wound up together, naked. “There’s a hearing today for my father. My mother asked me to go. I don’t want to, but…I’m the only one of her sons that’s willing. I’ll go support her, even though I know the press will think I’m there to support my father.”

“Oh,” I say, going still. “Okay. Do you…want me to go with you?”

I expect him to say no— I’m already formulating my response, in fact. To my extreme surprise, he frowns for a long while, then says, “Yes. I’d like that.”

“Okay. What do I…what do I wear?” I ask, which feels like a stupid thing to ask, but for real— what does someone wear to a hearing for someone’s father’s murder trial? I don’t think there’s a Google-able answer to this one.

* * *

Three hours later I’ve showered and am wearing the most professional-looking outfit I’ve got on hand— a fitted black skirt and a white blouse that drops a little lower on my chest than I remember it doing. I pull my hair up on top of my head, and put on a little extra makeup, just in case I’m caught on camera. It isn’t until I think this that I realize that if I’m on camera, it means that I’m on camera with Tyson. Has his hesitation to call me his girlfriend passed? And if it has, do I want to go public?

He can’t have gotten over that hesitation this fast. We must be avoiding the cameras somehow.

“Whoa. Where are you going?” Trishelle asks when I emerge from the bathroom. I blink in surprise— I’ve been so focused on Tyson, on going with him today, on all we did last night, that I sort of forgot about everything else, my roommate included.

“A court thing,” I say swiftly, then when her eyes widen, hurry to add, “Not for me— just to study a case. For a class.” I’m a terrible liar, but Trishelle is distracted by something on her phone, so she doesn’t catch it.

“What about the guy you were interested in? Is that still a thing? How’s it going?” she asks, finally looking away from her phone and sitting on the back of the couch. I glance to the door— I need to leave if I’m going to meet Tyson on time, but I like talking with Trishelle so much that I can’t bring myself to open the door just yet.

“It’s going well. Really well,” I admit, wishing I could tell her all the details.

“Have you kissed yet?” she presses, a sneaky look in her eyes.

I nod, flushing, glowing, thinking about Tyson’s mouth on mine.

“Have you…done more than kiss him yet?” Trishelle presses, looking delighted and scandalized.

I nod again, and Trishelle squeals, then grabs my hand. “Anna! How could you not tell me? What have you done? I need details. Lots of details.”

“I never see you!” I say defensively. “And what sort of details?”

“Like how much more you’ve done! You were totally innocent, so this is huge. Are we talking…oral?”

I nod once more, and I think Trishelle might actually have some sort of fit right here in our living room. I give in and tell her what she really wants to know. “We’ve had sex.”

Just last night, and it was perhaps the most amazing experience of my life. I wish I had the nerve to tell her about the earth-shaking orgasms, about how it felt to have something as big as Tyson’s cock inside me, about how we went all night long, about how when we’re together, I let him have me in every way, and love it.

“Oh my god. You’re not a virgin anymore? You beat me!” Trishelle says with a wail that’s half excitement, half genuine dismay. “Was it painful? I’ve heard it can really hurt. Or was he not that big?”

“He’s…quite big,” I admit. “But it didn’t hurt, exactly. I think the pain depends on who you’re with. He took his time, made sure I was ready, went slow…” I take a deep breath. “It was amazing.”

“So when do I finally get to meet this mystery man?” she asks.

I stutter. “I’m…we’re kind of keeping things chill…like…”

Her eyes narrow and then widen. “You’re having an affair, you crazy girl!”

“No, it’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I guess we’re both doing things we never thought we’d do.”

I swallow and feel my eyes tearing a little as I turn to go.

“I guess we are doing things we never thought we’d do,” I mutter.

Like lying to our best friends.