The End of the Foreplay, and After
Author's note: I love stories that have a lot of intensely hot sex, but which also have reasonably well-developed characters. In my experience, that combination is hard to find on Literotica. Romance stories have great characters, but not much sex. Stories in erotic couplings and other genres have the sex, but rarely the characters. I hope you'll agree that I've worked both into what you're about to read.
I entered a story titled
Research Foreplay
in the Summer Lovin' 2020 contest that was really well received. It averaged 4.7 out of 5 stars, and got comments like "This is one of my favorite stories that I have read on Literotica. Great job," and "I'm 70 years old, & still married the 1st time (48 years) & didn't know people dated like that... I LOVE ❤️ IT."
Ending
Research Foreplay
right after a very steamy dinner conversation between Kim and Mark seemed to fit the story. But these characters wouldn't leave me alone even as I was writing and publishing three other stories about other characters. When I couldn't ignore them any longer, I wrote what happened next, which is what you see below. Click on my author link and read the prequel to this story if you want the full arc. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.
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Fuck this feels good! I'm sitting here with this beautiful man next to me, and the vibrator he has going on my clit is sending waves of pleasure through my entire body. I'm so wet, I bet I'm creating a puddle on this seat straight through my skirt. Hell, I was already soaking through the skirt's thin cotton material before we finished dinner.
I look over at my new boyfriend, Mark, and to the degree that my insides haven't already turned into a molten liquid, I melt a little more. I mean look at him. He's 6'2"" and probably weighs something like 225 pounds, with lean muscles on every inch of his body. I can't wait to trace my fingers over every one of them, to feel his weight crushing my tits as he thrusts his huge cock in my... Shit! No no no no no NO NO! I clench the muscles in my pussy hard to keep them from convulsing, and then clench every other muscle in my body to support the effort. Kim Stevens, you do not have his permission to cum!
I whisper desperately, "Mark, turn it off!" Jesus, I hope that was only loud enough for him to hear!
"Turn it off, what?"
"PLEASE! Mark! Turn it off!"
He clicks the button on the remote control, and the vibrator stops. I remain clenched for several more moments until I know that I've successfully suppressed my orgasm. While I'm doing this, one of the guys sitting across from us on the subway asks, "Is she okay?"
Mark responds, "Stomach cramps. She's been feeling a little off since dinner. I'm taking her home, but I'm sure she'll be fine."
Stomach cramps, my ass! Quick thinking, on his part, though, especially the "a little off" part. I definitely don't feel like my pussy is perpetually on the verge of an orgasm on any normal day!
To be perfectly honest, this is all my fault. We're finishing our third date a little early, going back to Mark's place right after dinner instead of the movie we were planning. Over dinner I got both of us so horny talking about some of my most memorable sexual experiences that the only thing I could imagine doing was getting him naked and inside me for the first time as soon as humanly possible. I'd been telling him that I like to give complete control to my lover, because my sex life is often way more adventurous that way. Then I gave him the remote to the butterfly vibrator I'd been wearing all night. Now he's torturing me. And I love it.
After I finally relax, I lean into him for support. This is exhausting!
He asks, "Are you okay?"
I whisper more quietly in his ear, "I will be as soon as I get that huge cock I see bulging in your pants thrusting inside my pussy."
He whispers back, "Christ, you are a needy little slut! Behave yourself! You're already in big trouble from what you did at the restaurant and you know it!"
Yeah, that's true. I really did go overboard there. But hell, in for a penny, in for a pound. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry! I didn't think I was behaving badly just now. If I were misbehaving, I'd be straddling you, wrestling that cock out of your jeans, moving my dripping wet thong aside and rubbing my throbbing swollen slit up and down until you were rock hard, and then thrusting you all the way inside me."
Naturally, Mark looks down at my lap. I take my forefinger and slowly trace it up my thigh until it catches slightly on the edge of my skirt and drags it up just a fraction of an inch before it continues up to my waist over the thin, sheer cotton. I continue, "Of course, this skirt is so short and so tight that as soon as I spread my legs around you, it would ride up. Those guys could see every inch of you sliding in and out of me. Maybe even get a video on their phones to post on the internet. I want you so bad right now I'd do that in a heartbeat if you asked me to. I'd say by comparison, I've been fairly restrained. I mean look at me!" I sit up just a bit and pull my top out far enough that he can see my rock-hard nipples. "These poor girls are reaching out blindly, so sensitive, so desperate for the feel of your lips around them, your tongue massaging them... Ohhhhhhh fuck!" Mark had turned the vibrator back on.
"Hopefully that will shut you up, my little cock tease, at least until we get back to my apartment. We get off in two stops."
"If I'm not careful, I'm going to get off way before then."
"You'd better not!"
"I know, I know! Fuuuuck, this feels soo good!"
I lean into his firm shoulder muscle and try to think about other things. I wonder what these guys watching us are thinking. Is one of them smirking? Did they notice me flashing my tits? If so, they're silently calling bullshit on the stomach cramps explanation. And now they're probably evaluating us as a couple, maybe wondering how a guy like Mark landed a girl like me. As I mentioned, Mark is a big, strong guy. Dark complexion. He's not runway model gorgeous, but I think he has an interesting face. Square jaw, wide-set eyes, kind of a wide, flat nose. He looks a little like a cross between a linebacker and the singer Lorde. One of the things we share in common is that we both work out regularly, although he tells me that spends more time with the nautilus and free weights than I do. I'm more into cardio.
It keeps me in great shape. Tight round ass, well-toned arms, legs and stomach. Lots of people tell me I'm classically beautiful. I'm 5'6" tall. My tits are 34D, all the exercise keeps my waist narrow, and my hips are 36" around. I have high cheek bones, dark blonde/light brown wavy hair down past my shoulders which matches my large hazel brown eyes, and kind of a light tan color to my skin, especially in the summer when there's lots of sunshine.
I get my looks from my dad's side of the family. It was one of the only gifts he could ever give me, since he was killed in action in Iraq when I was four years old. My mom keeps in great shape, but her dimensions are much more slender than mine. The pictures of my dad's mom from when she was younger look a lot more like me.
Honestly, having looks like this isn't all it's cracked up to be, at least not all the time. I have always wanted to be known for how disciplined and smart I am. I've worked really fucking hard all my life to get out of the borderline poverty that I grew up with. I earned the scholarships I needed to go to college and to get into my MBA program. And still, I think all people can see of me a lot of the time is my looks. Not that I ever complain about it to anyone. Not ever. Who wants to hear someone worrying over how their good looks cause them trouble, am I right?
Fuck this feels good! I can only distract myself by letting my mind wander just so long before the vibrator on my clit brings me back. I ride the pleasure waves until we get to his stop. Thankfully I don't start to orgasm again, but it's a damned good thing that he wasn't two more stops away.
As we get up, one of the guys across from us says to me, very sweetly, "I hope you feel better soon." His buddy tries to stifle a laugh, and fails miserably. I curl a devilish little smile on my lips, I wink at him and say in a husky voice, "Oh. I will." Then I turn on my heel and walk to the door of the train. I add a little sway to my hips in order to draw attention to them as I go. I think I hear one of them say, "Ohhh fuck!" and then they both break out in laughter. Mark grabs me firmly around the waist and forcefully escorts me off the train. I don't think he appreciated that show.
The walk to Mark's apartment isn't too hard. The vibrator doesn't lay down right on my clit when I'm moving, but it certainly goes back there when I stop. Also, I've never been here before, so taking in the lay of the land is a distraction.
"Nice neighborhood, Mark."
"No more talking, slut. Not until you've been punished."
Wow, okay. That was a little harsh. If I didn't know what a sweet guy he is, I might think I was in trouble here. Actually,... I might be. He's never played the dominant role before, and he did say that he was a little worried about pushing me too far. Well, I did want sexual adventure. I'm sure as hell getting it. And I know if it goes further than I can handle, he'll stop. This will be fine. At least, I'm pretty sure it will.
We walk in silence the rest of the way, and even without the constant stimulation on my clit, my heart starts to race in anticipation. We walk up to his second-floor apartment and he opens the door. Nice place. Small by most standards, but not for this city. There are two couches in an L shape facing a big screen TV. The larger one is against the interior wall away from the window. The TV is on the far wall from the front door. The love seat faces the TV and is set as kind of an extension of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the place. The back of it faces the front door where we're standing.
"Strip, slut."
Now we're talking! "Yes, Mark". I rip off my top and pull down my skirt, showing him the corset and thong combination that I'd picked out for our first time. The corset holds up my tits, but leaves my nipples exposed. I'd thought that we might fuck with me wearing this, but he said strip, so I undo the corset, pull my soaking wet thong off, and ask, "Do you want me to take off my heels, too?
"No, I like you like that. You look like a stripper."
"Not just a stripper for you, Mark. You can't touch a stripper."
"Fine. I'll continue to call you slut, then, since I'm sure as hell not paying you like a whore."
Yeah, I'm not sure how much I like this whole slut thing, but I told him he could do whatever he wanted with me. I guess I'll play the part. I mean, a slut gets fucked a lot, and I really, really need him to fuck me. I walk two steps to the back of the love seat and say as I bend over, "And if I did this, would you fuck me like a slut? Please?"
"Stop talking."
I stop.
