Chapter 2- For Concession
Thursday night was a repeat of Wednesday, just with a different movie. And this time, I was more appropriately dressed and wasn't surprised by what she expected. It took me a little longer to get worked up, especially once the dialogue started on the TV- it was distracting. But after a few minutes, I was ready and simply said, "Claire..."
She scooted to the edge and I pushed in. There
was
less lube this time, which meant I actually felt some friction. That alone was enough to get me off without the need to thrust. It wasn't as strong a cum as the day before, but it still felt good. I rolled to the side and Claire moved back to the center of the bed.
As I was preparing to leave, she said, "I'm going out with some friends for dinner tomorrow- can you come over a little later, like after 9?"
"Yeah, sure," I answered casually. As casually as one can manage when arranging to inseminate a woman that he has just finished cumming inside.
*******
Friday night, she was giggly. She'd had a drink or two, I could tell. There was no movie set up, because she had
just
gotten back from dinner- we had run into each other at her front door. She asked me to wait in the living room while she changed, and I looked around at the pictures. Something seemed odd about them, but I couldn't figure out what. After a few minutes, Claire called me back to the room. She had a bedside lamp on and was holding a novel. "Whenever you're ready," she said, opening her book. Every minute or so, I could hear her turn a page. I looked over at her, trying to find something to stimulate me. If only I could see a little more of her...
It was taking longer than usual, but Claire didn't say anything. As she read, she casually moved her hand along her body. I tried to imagine what it would be like to have my hand in the same places- along her hips, around her side, just under her rib cage...I was getting close.
"Almost there," I warned her.
She scooted into place, and just as I lined up with her entrance, she gasped, "Omigod, I forgot the lube!"
"Too late," I warned her. It wasn't, really. I was still going to need a couple strokes or thrusts, so I could have held off. But I just didn't want to; I wanted to be done. I started to push in and enjoyed that delicious sensation of slight resistance, the feeling of a woman's walls giving way and letting you in. She was tight, but there was a hint of moisture as I started to get my tip inside. I did a few gentle prods, encouraging her wetness to spread around, and after a few seconds I had enough to push in some more. Claire moaned and put her hands over her face. I didn't know if it was embarrassment or arousal or something else.
With two solid strokes, I was inside her, just in time. The tightness, the warmth, the friction, the excitement...I came with a groan and held in deep. I tried to avoid making much noise when I came- it just seemed out of place. But I still held my mouth open and gasped. Even if it wasn't the ideal situation, cumming inside a woman always feels great.
I wanted to wait until I felt myself getting soft, but Claire didn't want to risk losing any of that precious cargo, so I reluctantly pulled out. Once she had the flap closed and the pillow under her, I slumped into a chair next to the bed. "Gimme a minute," I said, feeling tired.
"No problem," she said happily. Then after a minute, with her eyes still in her book, she said, "I guess this is like a dream come true, huh?"
Not wanting to disagree strongly just yet, I said, "I'm not sure what you mean."
"You know...hassle-free sex. You don't even need to mess around with the preliminaries, just skip straight to the good part."
"You could not be more wrong," I said calmly. "We're skipping the good parts."
"Oh come
on
," she chided, putting her book down. "No obligation to talk, or cuddle, or mess with foreplay...You get to walk into my room, cum inside me, then walk out with no responsibilities or consequences. It's perfect. Cumming without the drama, what more could you want?"
"Well, since you ask, I'd like to actually have sex," I said. I had been looking for a chance to bring this up. I wasn't yet ready to back out of the deal, but I was close.
"But you get the important part of sex, right?"
"Wrong," I said, a little agitated. Claire furrowed her brow and looked at me. I went on. "Sex is about so much more than cumming. Even that isn't half...isn't a
tenth
as good without all the build-up, without everything that leads up to it. Without touching and holding and smelling and feeling skin and feeling accepted by your partner. It...it's such an emotional, personal experience. I can't even call this sex. Whatever we're doing...it's not sex."
"Yikes," she said, still sounding a little under the influence of the alcohol she'd had earlier. "Looks like I hit a nerve. Excuuuuuse me! Maybe you just have a different perspective on sex from
every...other...guy
I've ever known."
"Look," I said, in a calmer voice, "I've been thinking about this, and I'm really wondering what I'm supposed to be getting out of this deal. I mean...you are hoping to get a baby, so that's
your
payoff. But what do I get in return?"
She looked at me, confused, "You get...this. You get to cum inside me. You get four sexual encounters a month, no strings attached. I thought that would be highly motivating."
"Well, nothing personal, but it's not. In fact, I'm starting to think it's more frustrating than anything else. It's like I'm being teased with sex but not allowed to have it. And on top of that, there
are
strings attached- I'm agreeing to not see anyone else. How is that rewarding? Twenty-six days a month, I'm dealing with enforced chastity."
Claire seemed a bit put off, but at least she wasn't angry. "What do you suggest, then? That I go all porno on you, fake like I'm having a blast while I bounce on your love stick, begging you to 'fill my little pussy, baby?' Because if that's what you want, then you can fuck off." She didn't say it in a mean or angry way, but she was obviously perturbed. I guess this was my make-or-break moment. I hoped that her being even a little buzzed would work in my favor.
"Once a month. That's what I want," I said.
"Huh?"
"Three of the four days, we'll do our little dance. You wear your trap door pants and pretend not to pay attention while I jerk off. I'll only touch you when I'm finishing inside you, then I'll slip out of the room gracefully. But on the fourth day, we actually have sex. Clothes off, under the covers, kissing and holding and trying to get you pregnant the way it's usually done."
She closed her eyes and exhaled loudly. After a few seconds she said, "I told you this was not going to be about sex."
"Yes, you did. And that's still true. But you didn't say it wasn't going to
include
sex. It's still just about getting you pregnant, right? Sex doesn't take away from that. And without this, our little arrangement just becomes a case of me helping you out at some inconvenience to myself. I think it's only fair that I get something out of this, too. I only agreed to do it because I
assumed
you were talking about us having sex four times a month."
"Bad assumption," she said tersely.
