What’s more physical?

The fight

“You’ll decide that all you want is a kiss, or that maybe you’ll give a blow job, but that’s not all I want.”

“What do you want?”

“You’ll see what I want, because I will **** it on you. I will pull up the t shirt, but you’ll resist. I’ll rip it off you. I will pull down your panties, but you’ll resist, so I’ll rip them off. You should feel free to wrestle, to pull, to resist, but you aren’t to hurt me or scream, and I won’t hurt you. Agreed?”

“Yes.”

“Your safe word is Donald Trump. If you say Donald Trump, I’ll definitely lose my erection, and I’ll know you want to stop, and I’ll stop.”

“Got it. But you’re going to rip off clothes, when I’d actually fuck you right now in the bathroom over there.”

“Ah, but that’s not what I want. I don’t want a quick fuck. I want more.”

Nicole’s pale skin was reddish, and she was breathing unevenly.

“After you’re naked, or perhaps while you’re resisting, I plan to put on wrist restraints and ankle restraints and tie you to the bed. I plan to cinch you down tight so that you can’t move. I plan to go down on you until you cry, to lick your smooth labia and tease your clit and slide my fingers up and down your virgin slit. I plan to take pictures and video so that you can look back on the experience. When I feel you about to cum, I plan to twist and hurt your nipples, those pale pink nipples, just as you go over the edge. Does that sound good?”

“Yes.”

“But I won’t do any of that if the door is locked.”

“The door will be open.”

“And you will call me sir.”

“Sir? C’mon. We’re teenagers.”

“I know what I want. You are about to let a man pleasure you with his mouth, to fuck you, to **** you if you resist. To you, I am your master, and you will call me sir whenever you are wet around me. Are you wet?”

“I told you I was wet.”

“Try again.”

“Yes, I’m wet.”

“Again.”

She paused. She looked embarrassed.

“Yes sir, I’m wet. You’ve made me wet.”

“See you in two hours.”