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This site contains explicit stories of sexual & kinky fantasies and is not intended for readers under 18.

The thing about Frankie was she rolled her eyes every time I added something to a conversation. She never laughed at my jokes, and she never looked me in the eye.

I thought it was because I was a little too obvious about my attraction to her. She was brilliant, passionate about food, art, and literature, just like me. She was also ridiculously hot, in a sort of thick field hockey sort of way. Which was one of my favorite ways to be hot.

Powerful legs, huge thighs, chubby cheeks, pouty lips. It was hard not to swoon whenever I was in the same room as her. She probably caught me staring at her tits or licking my lips as I ogled her thighs, because she seemed to hate me.

Or so I thought. I should know better than to trust my instincts.

It was Adam who clued me in. After the three of us got into a debate about the lines between modernism, late modernism, and postmodernism, which ended with Frankie storming off to get a beer after my answer displeased her.

“Jesus, Brian, when are you two going to fuck already?” He laughed. He noticed my surprise and sighed deeply, patting me on the shoulder in pity.

“Our Francis is a poor, bottled-up Virgo, Brian. Just like you are a clueless Pisces. Every time I drag her to a party, her first question is if you’ll be there. If you are, she immediately changes into a skirt. It would be adorable if it weren’t pathetic.”

I looked across the room at Frankie, who seemed to immediately look away from me and focus on the collection of bottles in the cooler.

“I thought she hated me. Plus, I didn’t even know she dated guys,” I said, rummaging through what I knew about my crush.

Adam sighed again. “Well, she does, sometimes. She’s like you, mostly all about pussy unless a very particular kind of guy is around. Not like ‘guy’ guys. Pretty boys with glasses and complicated thoughts about Proust’s place in the canon or whatever. That and she knows you’re kinky. I think she’s a little intimidated.”

I nearly dropped my beer. “She’s intimidated by me? She’s taller than me, and she’s like twice as smart as me. And she’s fucking hot.”

Adam laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, she’s not intimidated by your brains, dipshit. She’s intimidated because Suzy showed her the marks you left on her ass that one time.”

I felt a rush of warmth in my cheeks. Suzy was so pretty and eager. Manhandling her curves was like a Christmas present. I felt my mouth form a cocky smirk. I looked over at Frankie again. She looked away again, tucking her hair behind an ear. She looked nervous, like she was wondering what Adam was talking to me about.

Adam laughed when he saw me watching her. “Well, there it finally is. I feel like I’m smushing two Barbie dolls together. Are you going to do something about it?”

“What, me? Use someone’s crush on me to my advantage?”

Adam rolled his eyes and went off to find some other gossip. I finished my beer and considered my next move.

A few minutes later, I found Frankie by a window, looking at her phone. I stood next to her and waited for her to notice me. She looked surprised for a moment and then annoyed.

“I feel like I pissed you off before,” I said, apologetically. She shrugged and sipped her beer.

“Whatever, I don’t even remember what you said,” she obviously lied. I laughed. Her nervousness, which I once found disheartening, suddenly made me even more attracted to her.

“I feel like I’m always pissing you off, which sucks because I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while.”

She did a sort of double take, then narrowed her eyes at me. “Did fucking Adam tell you to say that?” I laughed.

“I told Adam I have a crush on you, and he said he thought you might have a crush on me, and so, I don’t know, if that’s true, I thought we could–” I couldn’t think of the word.

“What exactly did he say,” she asked, eyes suddenly blazing with anger as she looked around for Adam.

“I don’t know, something about you always putting on a skirt if you know I’m going to be at a party. It doesn’t matter. Is it true? It’s true for me. I’m surprised you never noticed me staring at you or trying to chat you up.”

She shrugged. “You stare at anyone with nice tits and a big ass. I didn’t think I was particularly interesting to you.”

I took the smallest step forward as the music got a little louder. “You have always been particularly interesting to me.”

There was the tiniest flicker of a smile at the corner of her lip. “I guess he told you about Suzy, right?” I shrugged.

“We hooked up the night after she had been at your apartment. She had these huge bruises on her ass and her thighs. Finger-sized marks and big round marks and mean-looking purple and red lines.”

I couldn’t hold back my smile. “Suzy likes to play rough. Those lines were from a cane. She’s a tough girl.”

Frankie’s eyes flashed with jealousy. “I’m tough.”

“I have very little doubt of that,” I said, moving closer. “But can you be good?”

Her jaw trembled. She seemed to fight the answer that came to her lips. “Yes,” she said simply, in a very low whisper, her anger becoming a pout.

I chuckled and reached out for her. She winced, but then softened. I rubbed her cheek, and she pressed it into my palm. “You want to be good,” I whispered, and she nodded emphatically.

I took her chin in my fingers and made her look at me. “You want to be good for me,” I clarified.

She nodded and then kissed my thumb and took it in her mouth. It took a lot to maintain my toughness when she did that. That’s how things can be sometimes; both of you wanting to seem tough.

“Well, we should go then,” I said, slowly extracting my thumb.

“Right now?” She looked around, surprised. I shrugged. “We don’t have to go right now, but I’m not quite ready to call it a night.”

She considered it. “Okay. I mean, yes. I mean, I might as well do it before I have time to talk myself out of it,” she said with a crooked grin.

“My place is just a few blocks away. Maybe we can walk and discuss it,” I offered. She was already looking for her jacket.

The early spring evening air felt electric after the stuffy house party. We walked down the empty street silently for a block or two. I watched her. There were so many strange contrasts in her. How she was tall and powerfully built, but often made herself small and invisible. How she could sometimes be loud and boisterous, but then become shy and timid. How she was often so standoffish, yet in that moment, sucking my thumb, her desires seemed so perfectly obvious.

“So I was thinking we sort of set some clear rules for the evening. I’d like to make out a little and give you a spanking. Nothing crazy. I think that’s a good place to start,” I offered. She put her hands in the pockets of her denim jacket and considered my words.

“I’m up for that. I mean, I’m up for more than that. I know myself. If you spank me, I’m going to want to get fucked,” she said, looking down at the street.

I considered that. “Well, that is an option. I just want to make sure neither of us do anything too fast. Anything we might regret.”

Frankie’s jaw clenched. She stopped walking and dug her hands deeper in her pockets. “I get what you are saying and I appreciate it, but I don’t think we need to take sex off the table unless you really want to. Honestly, spanking is a lot more scary for me. And going home with you. I’ve had a crush on you, I guess, if that’s what you call it. I…” she sighed. She bit her lip. “I’ve liked you for a while, but I didn’t know how to, like, break the ice, I guess. I like you. So, you have to go into this knowing that. So, just don’t-” she started but then paused again and swallowed.

“Don’t what?” I said seriously. I honestly didn’t know what she was going to say.

“Just don’t fuck with me. Don’t hurt me,” she said, her voice breaking a little and her eyes looking away.

I swallowed. “I-what exactly do you mean?”

She shrugged and sighed more deeply. The scars of her past seemed very obvious. “I don’t know. I’m not trying to start anything serious right now, but just don’t fuck me and never call me. Don’t connect with me and never talk to me again. Don’t tie me up and do something weird. Don’t be an asshole. Don’t hurt me,” she said, looking back up and meeting my gaze. The rawness in her red eyes was startling.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. She took in my hesitation, and the smallest grin appeared. “I mean, hurt me. But just my body. You know?”

“I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. I thought you thought I was a dick. I’m not going to ghost on you, no matter what happens tonight. I don’t want to hurt you. Let’s take it one step at a time. No rope. If you want me to stop, just say no. Say stop. No matter what happens or doesn’t happen, I’m going to call you tomorrow. At eleven in the morning.”

Her eyes met mine for a moment, and her crooked grin returned briefly. “Okay. I mean, I know you’re a dick, but kind of in a hot way. A check in tomorrow morning sounds good. I like that. Anyway, that’s your building, right?”

I laughed. “Yes, that’s my building. What, have you been stalking me?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, we know all the same people, dumbass,” she smirked.

I frowned. “Let’s make a fun little rule. Something to show me what a good girl you can be or something that will give me an excuse to turn that pretty thick ass bright red. No profanity while you are in my apartment. Do you think you can handle that?”

Her eyes widened. It struck me how so many of her mannerisms made her seem like an angsty teenager, even though she was a full grown woman. She swallowed and nodded.

“Use your words, Frankie,” I said and my cock hardened when fear flashed in her eyes.

“I won’t curse when I’m in your apartment, Brian,” she said, her eyebrows furling. “Do I call you Brian? Um, ‘Sir’ works for me, I guess. I don’t think I could say ‘master’ with a straight face. There are other words, but, um, they’re a little intense for a first date,” she said, which made her both smirk and blush.

“Oh, this is a date now? I like that,” I said and stepped closer to her. She tightened up. I slipped my hand around her hip and pulled her close to me. The warmth of her body, even through denim, was shocking.

“Let’s use Sir for tonight, then we can see. For our first date,” I said, squeezing her ass a little. She gasped. “Let’s continue this conversation upstairs,” I said, taking her hand and leading her to my apartment building.

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