Editor's note: this story contains scenes of rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, or non-consensual sex.
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Another writer, Msterpatrick, recently wrote about having sex with me. While I don't deny that I had sex with him recently, he didn't tell the whole story. His story makes it seem as if I was meeting him for the first time, but in reality he fucked me fifteen years ago when I was in college. I was already on my way to becoming a slut, but my experience with Patrick, or Chief, pushed me over the edge and made me a full-fledged slut. This is a story about that experience, which was, at that point in time, the craziest thing I had done. Recently, he asked me if I wanted to commemorate the 15th anniversary of our trip by revisiting Sturgis. In light of the pandemic, I said no thanks, but who know, maybe next year?
The problem was that my relationship with Justin was bound to implode, but I was in denial about how bad things had become. Justin, my boyfriend, had found out that I had cheated on him. I apologized profusely and tried hard to give him an incredible make-up sex experience. I cried and begged him not to break up with me.
Justin had a summer job at a chemistry lab at the University of Wisconsin at Whitewater. I had been going out with Justin for a year. He was Chinese American, like me. He was the smartest guy I had ever gone out with, and I enjoyed his company. Why I couldn't stop cheating on him was a bit of a mystery to me, and the guy he found out about wasn't the first.
Justin was a year older than me, and had just graduated with a degree in chemistry. He was going to work in a professor's lab for the summer to see if he wanted to apply to grad school. I didn't want to go home for the summer, so I was happy to go along with him. After he found out about my sleeping with Adam, he told me he didn't want me to go with him. But just before the end of the school year, he softened and told me I could go with him. I should have known that it wouldn't be a good idea, but I went with him to Wisconsin.
But most guys can't tolerate cheating by their girlfriends, and Justin was no exception. He never really got over it, and I think he stayed with me only because he didn't think he could do better. But once in Whitewater, he met Janine, and within a month, he told me it was over. Justin basically moved in with Janine, and so at least I had a place to live. I had a job as a waitress and I didn't want to go home with my tail between my legs and admit to my parents that spending the summer with Justin had been a mistake, so I decided to stick it out.
Whitewater is a small town about an hour from Milwaukee but it might as well be ten hours away. There wasn't much to do there, and I didn't know a single soul. A couple of the other waitresses were friendly, but most of them were much older than me, and the other two were high school students, so they weren't people I could hang out with.
And my sex life basically ground to a halt. I had spent the last summer fucking my boss at the chain restaurant where I was working, but that wasn't going to happen here. My boss in Whitewater was a super religious guy who wouldn't dream of cheating on his wife, and didn't seem that into women, if you know what I mean. Whitewater in the summer just wasn't the type of place where you could meet anyone. I worked almost every night anyway. I started out working five nights a week, but after I broke up with Justin, I would usually agree to work on Saturdays and Sundays for whoever was on vacation, just to make some money before I had to go back to school.
A couple of times after work, I went to the tavern across the street, but it was full of locals, and I felt weird going there by myself, so that wasn't really an option. And the two times I went there, I totally struck out. It seems no one wanted to fuck a lonely Asian girl in this place that was like the quintessential midwest small town. Every now and then, I would see Justin and Janine walking down the street, hand in hand, and that would depress me. Janine was cheerful and blonde and had big tits--in other words, the opposite of me, the depressed, flat-chested Asian girl.
I tried to hate Justin, but I knew it was my own fault that things had fallen apart. Why I would risk a long-term relationship with meaningless sex with a random stranger? It was inexplicable. Of course, the problem was that Adam wasn't a random stranger. It turned out that he knew Justin's best friend and guys can never keep their mouth shut about who they've had sex with. So I deserved my lonely fate in Nowheresville, USA.
So by the time Patrick came around, I was basically desperate and ready for anything. He came into the restaurant one night with another guy. They were in their mid to late 40s, dressed like typical bikers--bandana, leather vest and jeans. Bikers have always fascinated me, but I'd never really met one. The closest I'd ever gotten was dressing up like one for Halloween one year.
When I came up to their table, they both looked me up and down. Finally, some appreciation, I thought to myself. Patrick's friend said to him, "Hey, just your type, man." Patrick smiled, took another long look at me, and nodded. I accommodated them by pirouetting on one foot. Patrick's friend gave me some mock applause, and Patrick smiled at me.
His friend wasn't much to look at, but Patrick was attractive. I gave them their menus and told them I'd be right back to take their orders. And I still remember the first thing Patrick said to me when I came back to their table.
"What's a fried mozzarella stick?" he asked, looking at the menu.
"It's a piece of mozzarella coated in bread crumbs and deep fried," I said, surprised that he didn't know what it was.
"But how is it shaped?" he asked.
"Well," I said. "It's long and thin." I was starting to get the idea that he was playing with me.
"What body part would you say it resembles?" he asked.
I saw what he was driving at.
"I would say... a finger," I replied.
"Would you?" he responded. "Not a... "
"Penis?" I said.
"That's not the word I was going to use," he said. "But yes, is it shaped like that?"
"It's too small to be one," I said.
"Oh, so you're used to something bigger," he said.
"No, I wouldn't say that," I said. "But I might have a preference for something bigger."
The two of them laughed. The whole night went like that, with Patrick and his friend saying suggestive things and my playing along. As they left, Patrick said, "You've been a very good sport," and left me a forty dollar tip for a thirty dollar meal.
When I left work twenty minutes later, Patrick was outside leaning against his Harley. Of course, at that time I didn't know a Harley from a Honda.
"Hey, babe," he said. "You serious about wanting to ride on a bike?" I had told him that I had never been on a motorcycle.
"Sure," I said.
"I'll give you a ride home," he said.
I told him I just lived a couple of blocks away. He said he would give me a ride, then take me home. In a piece of exquisite cosmic timing, Justin and Janine happened to walk by just as I got on his bike. My eyes met Justin's, and I felt both smug and embarrassed at the same time, as I saw the astonished look on his face.
I held on to Patrick, and we drove through the dark deserted streets. Patrick drove onto a highway, and we whizzed by the dark outlines of trees and drove by the edge of a lake. It was exhilarating.
As we rode in the darkness, I wondered if I was going to invite him in. I had never had sex with someone like him--an older, rougher, working class type. I worried that he might treat me too gently and reverently. Boy, was I wrong about that.
By the time he drove me home, I was horny from the ride, which was a little scary, as well as from holding on to Patrick for the whole time. He followed me into my apartment, and I didn't try to stop him. He shut the door, and I turned around to face him, expecting him to kiss me, but he instead pushed me down to my knees.
He undid his pants and took out his cock. It was the most unusual cock I'd ever seen. It was big, though not especially long, but it was impossibly thick. I hadn't heard the term "coke-can cock" at that time, but that's what it was. It was literally as wide as a soft drink can.
"Ever seen anything that thick?" he asked. I shook my head.
"Suck it," he ordered.
Putting his cock in my mouth really put my jaws to the test. I didn't think that I had a strong gag reflex but even having the head of his cock in my mouth made me start to gag. I tried to back off, but Patrick held me firmly by the back of my head.
He started rhythmically sliding his thick dick in and out of my mouth. Not exactly face fucking me, but with pushing it in with enough conviction that it seemed like he could make it more unpleasant for me at any time. I made it nice and sloppy for him, generating enough saliva that I was drooling out of both sides of my mouth.
"Good girl," he said, pulling out of my mouth.
I rubbed my jaw with my hands. It was sore from the few minutes the large cock had been in my mouth. I had never had my jaw stretched like that before. He saw my discomfort and chuckled.
"Hope I didn't dislocate your jaw," he said.
"It's fine," I said.
"You won't be fine after we're done," he said.
