Lisa Needs a Lawyer

"Will they, like, let me in the gym if I'm not a member?" Lisa asked.

It was a fair question, but her stepfather was a bit of a jerk. The light changed, and he roared through the intersection chirping the tires. Lisa gripped the door panel as the car powered around the corner. He was a lawyer and her mother often characterized him as selfish and ruthless. Negotiating the turn, he accelerated down the highway.

"All under control," he said. Grabbing her leg just above the knee, he gave her a firm squeeze and winked. "I'm meeting with my trainer so you'll be on your own."

Lisa nodded, grateful to go solo.

Maybe this was his way of connecting, she reasoned. His relationship with her mother was so strained, Lisa couldn't help but feel guilty about doing anything fun with him.

At the gym, the attendant smiled warmly as they made their way inside.

Lisa marveled at the opulence of the locker rooms and tried to look older and more sophisticated than she felt. Looking at her reflection, she saw an eighteen-year-old girl with shaggy blonde hair and a pert nose. Although she would never admit it, she craved the attention of a man. She stripped, admiring her firm breasts, toned thighs, and shapely ass. If her mother wasn't so strict about dating, Lisa would surely have had a boyfriend by now. As it was, she hadn't much experience with men. She'd gone down on a boy once at the shore and allowed one of her friend's older brothers to grope her tits. She masturbated regularly, sometimes with a hairbrush, and other times with just her finger. Pulling her gym shorts high on her hips, she looked into the mirror and admired her ass. The gym would be filled with muscular, available men. A tingle between her legs made her mouth go dry. Watching herself in the mirror, she twerked until the sight of her gyrating ass bolstered her confidence enough to leave the locker room behind. The air-conditioned gym air made her nipples hard.

Her stepfather waved her over.

The trainer was lean and muscular and might have been the most attractive man Lisa had ever seen. Dark skin, clean-shaven, and a no-nonsense chin. The tingle between her legs returned, making her eyelids flutter. Checking her look in the mirror, she made her way toward them. Her stepfather suddenly grabbed himself between his legs. "Sheeeeeee," he swore, stretching the vowel. "We be ma'fuckin kings up in this bitch."

Lisa gave her stepfather a horrified look.

He was using African American vernacular to express himself. Worse, the trainer looked like an African American. He reached out to greet her. Composing herself, she took his hand. His name was Jamal, and he was younger than her stepfather but at least ten years her senior. He didn't seem at all offended by her stepfather's questionable behavior.

A phone rang.

Her stepfather swore again, the same as before, and told Jamal he needed to step outside to take the call. Wondering what had gotten into her stepfather, Lisa excused herself and began her workout. She ran on a treadmill to warm up, then made her way to the rack to start on her thighs. As she squatted, she looked into the mirror to find Jamal watching her.

She racked the weight. Turning to him, she said: "I'd like to apologize for my stepfather's behavior. That was, like, incredibly disrespectful."

"He's a character." Jamal shrugged, pointing to the rack. "You want some tips for this?"

"Am I doing it wrong?" Lisa looked at the rack.

"Do a few for me."

She shouldered the weight and did a few more reps. His attention ignited a pleasurable warmth inside her that went beyond the heat she was generating with her workout.

"Hold up," he said.

He stood behind her with his chest a tantalizing distance from her back. A light sandalwood fragrance filled her head. He was explaining something about the mechanics of lifting and his fingertips stroked the muscles in her shoulders. Her mouth dried up and a flutter in her stomach made her thighs clench.

He had her rack the weight and then removed the plates.

He got behind her again, but this time he pressed his chest against her back and put his hands on her hips. A firm bulge pressed into her ass. Her heart rate quickened and she took a big gulp of air. Something -- his erection -- was grinding against her. As if to underscore this development, he made a soft growling noise in his throat.

She didn't trust herself to speak. What would she say? Looking around the gym, she reassured herself that no one could tell what they were doing.

"You ready," he whispered.

"Sure," she said. Her voice came out all husky and wrong.

She cleared her throat to provide a better response, but he gently shushed her. His gesture seemed to acknowledge the lewdness of what they were doing, allowing her to glory in the wrongness of it all. Her stepfather would go ballistic if he knew she was flirting with his personal trainer.

"Squat," Jamal commanded.

She lowered herself; his body moved with hers.

It flashed across her mind that maybe this was just how athletes trained with one another. Maybe her dirty mind was making his innocent instructions into something sexual. At the bottom of the squat, his cock pressed into the small of her back. Maybe that was his athletic cup. Maybe he was just teaching her the proper way to do a squat.

"For squats," he said with a throaty whisper. "We sink it deep."

She sighed, her heart thumping in her ears.

His intentions were perfectly clear. If that was his athletic cup pressed into the small of her back, then his athletic cup was holding an erect cock. He moved his hands from her hips to the side of her torso and his fingers were deliciously close to the sides of her boobs. He whispered for her to rise and she did.

Her legs were weak, her throat wonderfully tight.

She racked the bar and watched in the mirror as he took a long, admiring look at her bottom. Turning to him, she couldn't help but immediately glance at the front of his workout pants. A glorious erection stood in his shorts. He smirked and deftly adjusted his waistband to camouflage his bulge.

His phone jangled and he turned to answer.

She let out a big exhale of relief. Her body thrummed with pleasure and her nipples were poking through the material of her shirt. Turning to hide from the rest of the gym, she blew air from her lips to calm herself. Her mind returned to the fat cock pressed into her ass.

Jamal touched her shoulder and it made her start.

"Hey," he said, "your stepfather is tied up and asked me to give you a lift home."

***

"Do you like to party?" Jamal asked.

He parked at a deserted lookout spot and produced a mirror and some white powder. Lisa watched Jamal get high. He offered her the mirror and she accepted. She hadn't much experience with drugs, but they'd bonded telling one another stories of her stepfather's egregious behavior, and she didn't want him to think she was unsophisticated. Soon her head tingled and her mouth went dry. Jamal gave her whiskey to wet her throat. The alcohol made her feel bold, and she began talking about her mother's plans to leave her stepfather.

She soon found she couldn't stop talking.

She talked and talked.

Jamal moved his seat back, lifted his bottom, and shoved his pants to the middle of his thighs. His cock was long and dark, surrounded by a thick bush of pubic hair. He took his shaft in his fist and gave it a stroke.

Lisa gasped.

She laughed, averting her eyes.

She couldn't make sense of what she'd just seen. Had he forgotten she was sitting next to him? Before she could chide him for exposing himself, his hand was on the back of her neck, and then suddenly her face was in his lap. His musky scent filled her nose. She tried to rise but found she couldn't. He was holding her by the neck.

His big cock filled her view.

A deep and horrible sense of guilt consumed her.

She'd been talking too much. He was patient, but every man's patience had a limit. She'd pushed past his and now he'd had no choice but to shove a cock in her mouth.

She whimpered. Trying to crane her head around, she wanted to apologize.

His fist closed around a handful of her hair and her scalp erupted in pain. Her cheek pressed into his pubic patch. His warm cock bounced off her nose. She opened her mouth and scooped his cock inside. His fist relaxed and the pain in her scalp receded. She worked her hips around so that she could kneel on her seat. His hand rested on her head. Jacking his cock with her fist, she frantically licked her lips to wet her mouth. Fully committing to his pleasure, she shoved his cock as far into her mouth as she could. He was attractive, she reasoned. A good listener. She really didn't mind sucking cock. Next time--if there were a next time--she wouldn't talk so much. He held her head with both hands and began bucking his hips.

She mewled, realizing he would soon come into her mouth.

Cum didn't taste good, but she wouldn't consider asking him to spare her. A little cum wouldn't be so bad, she decided. Besides, he'd suffered such poor treatment from her stepfather, who didn't understand the African American struggle. She took pride in how much she'd taught herself about black people. She wanted Jamal to know that she was different. She was white, but she wasn't like other white people. She was willing to do whatever it took to recognize inequality -- even if it meant letting him fill her mouth with a big nasty load of cum.

He froze, holding her head to his groin.

He grunted.

Cum filled her mouth. She swallowed as quickly as she could, but there was way too much, and the excess blasted out the sides of her mouth, coating his shaft.

He batted her hands away and pumped his cock.

His rejection of the way she was jacking his cock shamed her. Her inability to swallow all of his semen humiliated her. She wished she were better at sucking cock. These were the thoughts going through her mind as he pumped his nut into her mouth. Something went down her windpipe and she coughed, spitting semen into his lap.

She choked out an apology.

"Lick it up," Jamal said, his tone cold and demanding.

Eager to redeem herself, she cleaned him with her tongue. She licked his lap, his balls, and his shaft. She licked the fingers he had wetted stroking himself. She even licked the upholstery between his legs. African American men had to put up with so much. As a white girl, she reasoned, cleaning his cock was the least she could do. Taking her long blonde hair in her hands, she dried his manhood.

He pulled up his pants, moved his seat forward, and started the car.

She climbed back into the passenger seat and buckled up. Her head buzzed. She couldn't tell if it was from the drugs and booze or the way he'd gripped her hair to get her mouth on his cock.

They drove in silence, and Lisa slipped into a dark funk.

She'd talked too much and then performed poorly when it had come time for sex. He probably knew dozens of white girls who were way more sexually experienced than her. She felt an overwhelming urge to apologize, but she was too demoralized to do it. They were certainly finished. She was just a little no-account white girl, and he was an older, more experienced black man.

"Is this your house?" Jamal asked.

She nodded.

He drove right past.

She watched her home recede.

He pulled into a vacant lot surrounded by tall firs. Looking around the lot, he turned off the car and unbuckled. He leaned into the passenger seat and pushed the button to release her seatbelt. "You're a good girl," he said. "Thanks for sucking my cock."

Lisa gasped, grinning. She looked around the cabin of the car to reassure herself this wasn't a dream. "Really?" she asked. "Like, really?"

He started to grope her breasts and her nipples rose. Her breathing grew heavy.

"Yeah," he said. "You're one hot little white bitch."

She gasped, a fire growing between her legs. He'd called her a bitch, but she knew he didn't mean it in the negative sense. He was just using the African American lexicon and her obligation as a white girl was to embrace it. He slipped his hand into her shorts, under her panties, and began exploring her slit. Her mind clouded and then she remembered that he'd thanked her for sucking his cock. "You're welcome," she husked. "Oh, you're, like, so welcome."

Lisa eagerly embraced his perspective, recasting all the mean things she'd thought about herself on the ride home. Relief washed over her and the urge to talk took hold of her again. She told him she didn't mind sucking cock. She complimented him on the size and coloring of his cock. "You're, like, really big," she said. He smiled a little half-smile and worked two fingers into her pussy. She grew juicy and began squirming her hips. Babbling about the African American struggle, she wanted him to know how different she was from her stepfather. Jamal curled his fingers, searching for her G-spot.

Lisa bellowed as she came, lifting her ass off the seat.

As she basked in afterglow, a little shame spike reminded her of all the cringy things she'd said about race. She considered an apology but was afraid it would make everything even more awkward. He drove back to her house and pulled up at the curb. She meekly thanked him and climbed out of the car.

"Hey," he said.

She peered back into the cabin.

"Want to hang out sometime?"

A bolt of fire tickled her pussy. She stood, looking at her house. Her stepfather and her mom's car were in the driveway. They were probably fighting. They would be angry with her for hanging out with Jamal but for different reasons. It was fairly clear that she shouldn't go out with him again. Preparing to decline, she ducked her head back into the window.

He was sniffing his fingers.

When their eyes met, he made a show of licking them clean.

She laughed.

Why not hang out? She'd just sucked his cock. They made plans to meet again. The wrongness of what she was doing made her toes tingle.

Her parents could never know about Jamal.

***

Jamal led her into her stepfather's deserted office. Tall windows offered spectacular views of the city. A large oak desk sat in the far corner.

"This is perfect," she said, laughing.

It was the first time she'd ever been in this office. They were here to disrespect her stepfather by having sex on his desk. He'd escalated the drama with her mother by throwing them out of his house. Disrespecting him had been Jamal's idea, and Lisa loved being part of an insubordination. Jamal had listened to her process the new developments with her parents for most of the night. He was very patient. He poured a drink, then leaned against the edge of the desk and raked her body with his eyes.

"You're not like your stepfather," he said. "You're respectful."

"Oh, I am," she said. "Like, really, respectful."

His assessment of her character made her knees weak. She wanted to say more, but her head was humming from all the white powder he'd given her. Between the drugs and attention, she felt obligated to offer him something in return. Stripping out of her clothes, she committed to doing a better job sucking his cock. He asked her to point her ass toward him, then bend at the waist. She did as she was told, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"Reach behind and spread your ass cheeks apart."

A fiery bolt of shame seared her as she presented her most private spots. Twisting around, she found a camera pointing at her. Her stomach filled with dread. "Who is going to see these pictures?"

"Just my black friends," he said.

She swallowed hard. She didn't want anyone to see pictures of her posing this way. Shaking her head, she winced. "I don't know, Jamal."

He shrugged. "We like showing off our white girls."

A suffocating warmth swallowed her up. Laughing, she continued shaking her head, but she already knew she would allow it. "Do you promise?" she asked. "Only your black friends."

He laughed, flashing brilliant white teeth.

"Let's get started," he said, taking off his pants. He lay on the couch, then arranged her between his legs. She dutifully took his cock in her hand and began licking his shaft. It was warm and thick and grew in her hand.

He lifted his knees, spread his legs, and presented his bottom.

"Do the ass."

She raised her head, horrified. "What?"

He palmed her head, forcing her face between his legs. Sealing her lips, she whimpered. Her mouth had never been pressed against anyone's asshole before.

"Get your tongue in there."

His voice sounded harsh. Commanding.

She wasn't prepared to challenge him. Blanking her mind, she extended her tongue. Her nose pressed into his perineum, and she pushed her tongue against his asshole like a little battering ram. Lowering her chin, she dragged the flat of her tongue along the length of his crack. The longer she pleasured him this way, the easier it was for her to accept she could use her mouth and tongue to lick a man's ass. Why not? As a white girl, she reasoned, her obligation was to take risks with people of color, especially black men. She had to push herself -- it was her responsibility to open up to new experiences.

He took her hand and placed it on his shaft.

"Stroke me."

She raised her head, but he wasn't finished with her tongue yet, so he shoved her face back between his legs. "Keep licking."

A small part of her mind knew she needed to set boundaries with him, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She wanted to prove herself first. He'd already acknowledged she was different from her stepfather. She wanted him to say she was different from other white girls, too. Pressing her tongue deep into his crack, she blindly pumped his cock.

When he finally stood up and pulled her to her feet, relief swept over her. Surely she'd passed some critical test by licking his ass.

He took a long draught from his drink, set the glass down, and then bent her over the desk. Prying her ass cheeks apart, he put his hot mouth into her crack. An electric thrill of forbidden pleasure roared through her. A cold piece of ice slid into her asshole. She began hooting, calling out his name. It was humiliating to enjoy something as dirty as this, but she couldn't rein in her desire. A finger massaged her asshole. Something cold and greasy was smeared between her cheeks. A hot tingle of dread made her squirm.

"Jamal please," she begged.

She knew what was coming and tried to decline, but it was no good. He wouldn't listen. He gave her instruction to bear down. His hands groped her tender tits and achy clit, fanning the fire between her legs. She set aside her reluctance and followed his directions. Grunting like a pig, she worked his fat cock into her ass. His head finally slipped past her sphincter, and her asshole erupted in delicious pain.

"It hurts," she whimpered.

"You'll get used to it."

If she weren't so inexperienced with sex, she decided, he wouldn't need to treat her so harsh. Holding the desk, she tried not to make any noise as he slid into her rectum. He bottomed out and reversed course. A terrifying feeling of release swept over her. Certain she was having a bowel movement, she lay her cheek on the desk and flailed her arms. He laughed, plunging forward again. She gripped the desk and waited for him to finish. The stinging soon receded to a dull burn. The longer he rode her, the more she enjoyed being sodomized. She didn't think of herself as the type of girl who would enjoy anal sex, but here she was grunting with pleasure.

His cock suddenly popped out of her asshole.

His exit hurt but having him out of her ass was such a relief. She lay across the desk wishing she could go back to sucking cock, a task she was more familiar with. Turning to face him, she opened her mouth and... she got her wish.