The Arcade (Dirty 1st Dates)

by Harley Laroux

Four years of pining after a man will really make a first date feel sweeter.

But it seemed my crush hadn’t been as unrequited as I’d thought. Finally, those fateful words popped up on my phone: Maybe the arcade this Friday? I can pick you up.

Quiet, yes, but in a thoughtful, stoic way. Tall, pierced, and tattooed, his presence alone usually spoke for him, and it could be pretty damn intimidating. That intimidating look was exactly what drew me, since I knew he wouldn’t judge my own weirdness.

I took a moment to deeply inhale a whiff of his cologne: sweet and fresh, it reminded me of summer.

But I kept getting distracted by his hand gripping the gear shift. Long tattooed fingers, some sporting thick silver rings,

It was a safe way to word-vomit my kinky thoughts into the world without having my friends look at me like I was a complete freak, and without having to make myself be brave enough to ever speak to a date about it in person.

He smiled, his chin resting on the palm of his hand and his thumb rubbing idly along his lower lip. “You look really cute when you’re embarrassed, Violet. Wiggling in your seat like you don’t know what to do with yourself, barely looking at me. If it makes you feel any better, your secret is safe with me. We all need an outlet.”

“How does it feel, Violet?” he asked softly. “Do you like this? Or does it scare you?” “It terrifies me,” I said, not daring to bring my voice above a whisper. I knew people were looking, but suddenly I didn’t care. What mattered was answering his question. What mattered was making it as clear as I could that this was exactly what I wanted. “It terrifies me but I love it. It feels...dirty. And humiliating. But that’s what I deserve, right?”

“That’s right. It is exactly what you deserve. But if it ever feels like it isn’t, the safety word is pineapple.

widely. “Good girl” had such an instant, overwhelmingly positive effect on me. It was a burst of joy straight to my brain, so strong that I wanted to whimper and bury my face against him just to hide the ridiculously happy expression that was taking over my face.

“I’m going to make you cum until you can’t stand, and then I’m going to fuck your limp, overstimulated body until you’re all used up. Understand?”

“We have to get this tight little hole used to being fucked, don’t we? How else will I fill your ass with cum after you’ve orgasmed yourself silly?”

sir...thank...thank you...sir…”

“Such a very good girl,” he praised gently. “Such a good little cum-drunk slut.”