My mom was keeping Angel for the weekend, as she normally does. It was the club's busiest time, so I was grateful for her help. I didn't tell her I wasn't working, nor did I inform her about the letter. I still hadn't figured out what I was going to do. I wanted to call his bluff to see if what he said was true or not.

I kept the secret of Angel's birth from everyone. Including my mother. Our relationship was rocky as it was, and when I became pregnant, things spiraled downhill. I moved away after she kicked me out, living with some other family until Angel was three. I moved back home after that, hoping that people wouldn't figure it out. It worked out, with Angel and my mother getting along great, and she and I becoming closer also.

People asked, but I avoided the answer. My usual response was that he was someone I met, and he died while in the service. It stopped people from asking more questions. It was easier for me this way. I followed her dad's life, seeing where he went and what he was doing. I didn't contact him, not once, to let him know about her. His life was his to live, and a baby would only hinder him.

College went super well for him, and then he was drafted. I read he got married, but that didn't last. I heard he got hurt, only playing in the NFL for a handful of years. After that, any information about him was hushed. The public knew nothing, and I dared not ask anyone. I tried to bring him up in conversation, but the looks my mother gave me almost gave me away. It was better to not think about him.

But that letter. Whoever it was from, whoever thought they knew, and whoever wrote it had me right back to my junior year in high school. The first time we meet. The first time we talked. Our first kiss. All our firsts leading to the night he took my virginity.

He was older; graduated the summer after my sophomore year. The summer before my junior year. He was getting ready to go to college. All the way to Ohio State. I snuck out that night, waiting till my mom was asleep. I wore a long dress, nothing underneath. My breasts were huge for my age, my body making men think I was a woman. I knew when I saw him that my body would beckon him to me.

It did. He was drinking with some guys, his arm around her. I walked by, watching him out of the corner of my eye. He saw me, saw my hips swaying, my nipples poking through. I kept going, my heart thumping hard. I got a drink, someone I didn't know making them and handing them off at random. I sipped; alcohol was not something I cared for. I smelled him. His distinct cologne, mixed with his scent, the overwhelming aroma of him.

I kept going, slowing my step a bit. Straight outside before his hand took my arm, spinning me towards him. He held me at bay, his eyes roaming my body. His eyes are deep brown, almost black. His hair is long and in braids. His shorts, basketball ones, with a t-shirt and basketball shoes. It didn't matter what he wore. Between his eyes and those thick lips, the muscles he put on for football, he was every woman's wet dream.

"I don't think I should let you go." His voice was full of confidence, hinted with lust.

"Why is that?" I asked, my tongue peeking out to wet my lips. He smiled, his teeth white and straight.

"Something might happen to you. And seeing as this is my party, I would feel responsible. If I am going to be responsible, then we should stick together." He smiled, a twinkle in his eyes. We were on the same page.

"Well, I was going to go over to the lake and sit. I guess you can follow me." He did. His hand holding me, he walked beside me to the lake. We took a seat on a log, his long legs stretching out in front of him. No one was around, leaving us in the quiet. The air was cooler down here, a soft breeze coming off the lake. My body shivered on impulse, and he wrapped his arms around me.

I was eventually in his arms, our tongues playing tonsil hockey. We talked, laughed, kissed, and then I was laid out on the sand, his clothes a small barrier between me and the sand, with his body covering mine. It was wonderful. He treated me tenderly, his hands holding me and touching me with ease. Even when he broke my hymen, it was with gentle strokes.

It wasn't a one-and-done. We lay there, the moon bright, light enough to allow us to see each other. To help us explore each other. We didn't sleep, not wanting to miss a moment together. When the sun appeared, when he got dressed and helped me dress, and when we walked back to his house, I allowed myself to cry. I walked home, not looking back, not wanting to see him leave.

When school started and the months passed, I realized I was pregnant. I couldn't tell him. The football team was having a great year, with a high chance of making the college playoffs. I stopped calling and stopped answering his texts. I didn't want to ruin his life, to make him make choices because of a baby. It wasn't fair to him. After telling my mom, she called her sister, and off I went.

I stayed out of school, the high school not allowing pregnant females to attend. I gave birth to Angel, a beautiful mixed baby with reddish hair and his face. She was the love of my life, and I vowed to do whatever she needed from me. To take care of her, to provide for her, whatever she needed.

It wasn't easy. Hell, I still struggle. Every day, every week. My mom helped with free babysitting, and Angel was fed well when she was with her. I would go without food if I needed to, as long as my baby was taken care of.

A ping alerted me to a message, and on shaky legs, I walked over and picked it up.

Time is ticking.

That was it. Nothing else was said; nothing else needed to be said. It was already getting late, and the letter said a car would be here by 5. I had a choice, and I made it. I had to get dressed and go. To do as he wanted, as he ordered from me, to make sure my secret stayed buried.

I showered and shaved. I left makeup off, left my hair down, and hunted up a dress. I took out a loose one, one that flowed to my ankles. Spaghetti strapped, no bra. No panties. Sandals only. Just how I looked all those years ago. Adding a purse for my keys, wallet, and phone, I walked out the door and into the car.

The driver didn't talk; he just drove me to him. Whoever he is. After a while, the car pulled up to a gate, punched in a code, and drove the long driveway to a house.

The house being a mansion, it was huge. Dark gray, with black accents. The driver opened my door and helped me out. I walked to the door, and before I could knock, it was opened by a man. Not the same man from the club. This one was black with hair and light eyes. He didn't seem as tall as the other guy.

"Tiffany, right this way." He led me into the house. I looked around the foyer, the lights on low keeping me from knowing what was around me. I could tell the rooms were lightly painted, and I could see the outlines of furniture. But nothing gave me a clue into who my mystery man was.

I was taken to a dark room, a table sitting in the middle. It could seat at least 10 people. He pulled out a chair for me and then sat across. I waited for him to talk, but he checked me out and smiled. A woman appeared through a door, bringing a flute for me, setting it down, and then leaving.

"Drink. You are to eat a meal, and then I will take you to where you are needed."

"Who are you?"

"I am Gerald. A friend of his. A close friend."

"This doesn't help me out. I have no idea who he is."

"Not my problem. Drink, and your food will be out shortly." I wasn't going to get any answers from him, so I drank my entire flute. He chuckled, standing up and refilling it. When he sat back down, the woman reappeared, bringing me a plate. The dome was removed, and in front of me was a plate with a steak, baked potato, and green beans. It smelled heavenly, my mouth watering just from its smells.

I ate, and in between bites, I observed my surroundings.

"Nothing will give him away until he is ready to," Gerald spoke to me. I was pissed, pushing my plate away and standing up.

"Fine, then take me where I am supposed to go now." My voice was heated, my heart skipping beats as I stared this man down.

"If you are ready." He snatched my arm, pulling me out of the room and up the steps. We went to the left side of the stairs, a darkened hallway with closed doors. At the last door, he flung it open and pushed me inside. The door shut with a thud. I looked around, seeing nothing but darkness.

But then I heard him. "Don't look. On the chair, there is a black mask. Put it on." His voice rang over my beating heart. "I won't tell you again."

I stormed over to the chair, took the stupid mask, and put it over my eyes. "Good enough?" I asked sarcastically. He stood, his footsteps barely making a sound on the plush carpet. His hands went to my head, making me jump. He grounded me, his hands making sure the mask was on properly.

"Better," was all he said. My dress was pushed off, the material sliding down my body. I shivered. My hands were brought behind me and tied with something soft but sturdy.

"Do you remember what the letter said?" he asked, his voice gruff with a note of something underlining it.

"Yes. You know my secret. If I want to keep it a secret, then I give myself to you."

"Fully, Tiff." I huffed at his words.

"Fully."

"Good girl, I am going to do so many things to you. I am going to fuck you nonstop—your mouth, your ass, and your pussy. I am going to do what you give up freely to everyone." I opened my mouth to correct him, but instead, he interrupted me. "No fucking talking."

"If I have to, I will fucking gag you. Tonight is about me, not you. You are just my toy, my slut, my whatever I want. If you want out, now is the time. Because once we start, we won't stop." I knew that, reading it numerous times in his letter. I stood still, my mouth closed.

"Good slut," he whispered into my ear, then chuckled. His hand grabbed my hair, dragging me along. We didn't go far, but when he sat, I was pulled to the floor. "I am pretty sure you know how to work that mouth." I heard his zipper go down and knew what he wanted. I wanted to yell at him that I had never given head before but kept quiet.

He pulled my head over, close to his body, to where I could get a better smell of him. Even his smell seemed familiar to me. I still couldn't place it, nor did I have the chance to think about it, when his cockhead was pushing on my lips. Taking a deep breath, I opened up, my tongue darting out to lick him. I might have never done this before, but I have seen enough porn to know something.

I licked up and down his shaft, leaving traces of saliva all over him. His hand still held my hair, but his other hand was on the back of my neck. I licked him like he was going to melt, tracing along his veins. I tasted his pre-cum, swallowing the little bit of his sweetness. I was pushed a little lower, so I took him into my mouth. He was huge, expanding my mouth to ungodly lengths.

I tried doing what I saw in videos, hollowing my mouth as I went up and down his length. "Damn, you must have sucked a lot of cock. Your mouth was made for big black dicks." I heard his chuckle as he pushed me lower. I gagged, his head touching my throat. I tried breathing through my nose, relaxing my jaw and throat. He felt the tension subside a bit, pushing his cock farther into my throat.

I was still gagging, and he finally allowed me some air. But not much. After a deep breath, he pushed my head back down, my lips grazing the little pubic hairs on him. I was held still as he took over, shoving his cock in and out of my throat. I wanted to scream, to bite him, to do anything to get some air.

He eventually pulled out, his breaths coming in short pants. "It was a hard decision to not spew myself into your mouth. You're lucky I let you up because if not, you would have been drinking my cum forever." My heart was racing, my mind wondering why he was mad at me. Why, his tone, his voice, was dripping with anger.

"There are so many things I could do to you, Tiff. In fact, I just don't know what to do next." He let me go, still sitting there on my knees. I felt him move away, coming back only seconds later. He helped me up, this time a bit gentler. With his hand holding my upper arm, he walked me to another area of the room.

He laid me down, my legs hanging over a table, my ass pointing in the air. "I heard that when you lost your virginity, when you climaxed, it was a beautiful thing. Let's see how true that is." His fingers found my pussy, rubbing along my folds, up to my clit, and back down. He used gentle, slow strokes as they worked to make me wet.

"I wonder how you taste. That didn't happen that night, did it?"

"No." My mouth barely opening, the words hushed. His fingers found my hole, and three of them instantly went in, his knuckles hitting my lips.

"Fuck, for a slut, you are sure tight." I kept quiet, not bothering to tell him why. He rammed me, his fingers working fast, pumping in and out of me.

It felt good. I had only used a vibrator or my own hands to get myself off for the last seven years. My mouth opened, and I purred like a fucking cat. I didn't want to enjoy him or to feel anything about tonight. But I had to be honest with myself. Even sucking his dick, I was turned on.

He ripped his fingers out, replacing them with his thick cock. I screamed out as he grunted once he was fully sated inside me. "Jesus, Tiff. You are so damn tight; you are squeezing me so hard the blood is rushing out. I guess my cock is a treat from all the other small cocks you have been taking."

He took me, hard. His cock felt good, bringing back the memory of my first time. Except this was brutal, hard, and rough. Though for some reason, my body responded to his, as I kept pushing back into him, wanting more. His hands grabbed my shoulders, and his thrust got harsher as he continually took me.

"Oh, shit." I moaned. My climax was near; just a few more thrusts and I would explode on his cock. Though he didn't give me the chance. He pulled out quickly, the loss of his cock and his body rendering me still.

"You only cum when I say it's okay. Follow the rules, Tiff," he said laughingly. I didn't know there were rules, and even so, I desperately needed to finish. He walked away, the loss of his body heat leaving goosebumps everywhere along my body. I listened for his footsteps, but the roar of my heart was too loud to hear anything.

Then the heat came back. I could feel him, not behind me, but beside me. I turned my head, and even though I couldn't see, I looked his way.

"I bet you are dying inside. Wondering who I am, what I will do next, and if I will let you orgasm. All in due time, Tiff. For now, I think you need a spanking to remind you who is in charge." My body tensed as the word "spanking" escaped his mouth.

He used his hand, which stung. It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling; it was just something different. The sting would go away shortly after, replaced by a pleasurable feeling. The gratification is a turn-on. He stopped after less than ten hits and again moved away. He came right back, his body heat on my backside again. I held my breath, hoping, waiting for him to take me again.

But at last, he didn't. I heard a noise, a lube bottle being opened and then squirted out. He didn't tell me what he was doing; I had to guess. And I guessed wrong.

"Oh, fuck!" I shouted. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." My ass hurts.

"It isn't that bad, slut." He snickered, enjoying my discomfort. "Relax and enjoy this." I didn't see how I could, but when his hand landed on my ass this time, he hit right where the toy...