Stepping Out - Second Date

"Oh. That's delightful." He popped another piece of steak in his mouth, not bothering to wrap it up in a tortilla. He chewed, slowly and thoroughly, not breaking eye contact. When he was finally finished, he smiled. "And you're all done with your food. Watching me eat must be a kind of torture to you."

"Yes, dammit."

"Well, then, I'll signal Maria, but we have to have an understanding. If we leave now, in such a hurry, you can't cum until I do."

If she gave him a blowjob, that wouldn't be too hard. Although the way she felt right now, even having a cock in her mouth might set her off. Still, she wanted to get going. "Fine. Agreed."

He lifted his hand, and Maria came over.

"It seems," said Peter, "My date is eager to get on to other activities. May we have the check, please?"

"Sure. One check or two."

"Oh," said Peter. "I'll pay. I'm quite sure I'm getting value for my money."

Maria smiled at Becca. "We all have to work for a living somehow, don't we?" she said sweetly.

Oh my god. Becca felt like her cheeks were on fire. When she'd walked in, she'd guessed some people might think she was a whore, and the thought had turned her on. It still turned her on, but she no longer felt in control.

"My place, or yours?," Peter asked, "If we go to my place you'll meet Teresa."

Becca wasn't sure she was ready to meet his wife, especially if she wanted a quickie. Besides, if she was at her place, she'd be able to hop in the shower and change right after. She might even get a little time in with the Mentor program. "Mine."

"I'll follow you, but just in case, the address?"

She gave it to him.

"Have fun," Maria said to her on the way out.

Now that they were headed for her place, she had started to feel in control again. "We will," she said, grinning.

"I'll tell your wife next time I see her," Maria said to Peter.

"You do that," Peter said, clearly amused.

Becca listened to her podcast on the way back. It told her that a good slut loved being watched. She was careful to not drive more than five miles over the speed limit. The last thing she needed was to get pulled over again.

This was the first time she'd had a man over to her apartment for a long time. But she was sure it wouldn't be the last. One of her neighbors, a man in his seventies, was out on his balcony, watching as she stepped out of her car. Another, Kevin, who was probably twenty or so, watched from a window. "What a slut," she imagined them thinking. She wondered if they'd go inside and stroke their dicks, thinking about her later. It would probably be smart to wear something to cover up when she was coming in and out of her own building, but having people think of her as a slut felt too good to pass up, so instead of hurrying in, she waited for Peter to park, making sure her neighbors got a good view.

She remembered what he had said about how, looking at him and looking at her, everyone would figure he was "getting some." She imagined her neighbors would jump to the same conclusion. And she knew she'd keep bringing dates, different men, maybe women, and they'd see them, too. They'd know she was a slut. They might even think she was a whore. She'd have to correct them by telling them she did it for free.

She climbed the stairs with him, going ahead so that he could see up her skirt if he wanted to. When she got to the landing, a tall, muscular man was standing right next to her door.

"Curtis? What are you doing here?" She had met him last night, when she was giving a blowjob to her date in the park. For some reason she felt safe around him, even though he seemed to be stalking her.

"I'm here to protect you. Just call out if anything bad happens. I'll be right here." He was watching Peter, even if he was talking to her.

A good slut likes to be watched, she thought. "Why don't you come in, no reason for you to stand outside. You can keep a good eye on me."

"Becca -" Peter started.

She opened the door and pulled Peter in after her. Curtis slipped in after, not moving past the entranceway, but closing the door behind him.

She pulled Peter toward the couch. Then, before he had a chance to sit down or protest the presence of Curtis further, she went to her knees. Her hands flew to his zipper. The sooner he got off, the sooner she could get off, after all.

He put his hands on her shoulders. "Such a slut," he said. "But slow down. I want to see your tits before you get your mouth on my cock."

She pulled off her shirt and unhooked her bra, throwing them both toward her couch, before reaching for his cock again.

"Stand up, I want to get a good look."

She sighed, but did as he asked. She liked being looked at, after all. She was aware of Curtis watching, too. She had nice tits, she thought - big but still somewhat perky. Peter reached out and took each one in a hand, kneading them before brushing his thumbs across her hard, aroused nipples. Each time he did that a tingle went straight to her pussy.

"Nice," he said. "No need to take the skirt off, it's not really in the way." He reached down and pulled the skirt up slightly. "Spread your legs like a good slut."

"Good slut" felt like a magic word. She'd do almost anything to be a good slut. She moved her legs apart and he groped her pussy, pushing two fingers inside easily.

"So wet," he said. "But remember you can't cum until I do."

"Not fair," she said, but she didn't stop him.

"Not fair?" he teased. "Why, what do you want?"

"I want to suck on your cock," she said, because it was what a good slut would say. Honestly, she wanted him to give her clit a few good rubs, because she was sure she'd come like a rocket, but by the terms of the deal, that would have to wait.

"Can't you wait?"

She shook her head.

"Ask nicely," he told her, still teasing her with his fingers, touching every part of her wet pussy except her clit.

"Please let me suck on your cock, sir," she said. She wondered if the sir would turn him on.

"Show me what a good cocksucker you are. Show us both what a good cocksucker you are." He pushed lightly on her shoulders, but she didn't need any encouragement. The couch and chairs behind her weren't needed. All she needed was a place to kneel. She pulled his pants down. His cock was pleasingly hard, and it sprang forth. You're just as eager as I am, she thought.

She wrapped her lips around his cock. There was room for a few fingers to wrap around it, too, so she stroked him as she licked and bobbed. She felt him grow further in her mouth, heard the rhythm of his breath go ragged. He was close. Soon he'd be flooding her mouth with hot, sweet cum. It would be the second time a man came in her mouth in less than twenty-four hours, and both times men she'd just met. She was such a slut. She felt so good. She thought she might cum the moment he did.

His hands grabbed her shoulders, and he pulled away. "Let's savor the moment," he said.

She looked up at him. He was smirking. He pulled a small square packet from his pocket, and then undressed. Sitting on the couch, he slowly rolled a condom over his erection, then signaled to her with a curved finger. She walked forward.

First a blowjob, then fucking on the first date. I am such a slut. It feels so good to be a slut. She walked over to him, pulled her skirt up, and straddled him. Slowly, she lowered herself, sliding his hard cock into her wet and waiting pussy.

He let her do the work, and she rode him, moving until she felt him swell in her pussy and his breath got uneven again. He moaned. She slowed down. It was a challenge not to come herself, she was so ready, but after he had teased her when he was just about to fill her mouth with cum, she wanted to tease him back. She stood still for just a moment.

"Would you like to stop?" she asked, teasingly. If he said yes, she would invite Curtis to fuck her, and to hell with letting him cum first.

By way of answer he grabbed her hips, and drove into her. She moved with him, meeting his thrusts with a tilt of her hips. "Fuck me," she told him. "Cum in me."

At last, he came. She felt his cock pulse inside her, and then she exploded in her own orgasm, feeling it rock through her. Making him cum felt so good, it pushed her over the edge. She only regretted she hadn't been able to taste him. A good slut loved the taste of cum, and being a slut felt so good.

He smiled at her and glanced at the clock on the wall next to a print of a painted cityscape.

Four-thirty. Plenty of time to change clothes or put the old ones back on, freshen her lipstick, and get to her next date. Then again, rushing from one sexual experience to another - wasn't that what a good slut did?

"Have to hurry?" Peter asked. He started putting his clothes back on.

"Yes," she said. She supposed they could hang out and talk, but why? But she had a wicked idea. She moved off him, and then took the condom off, carefully. She stood and stepped back, so that both he and Curtis had a good view of what she was going do next. Then she lifted the condom over her mouth and squeezed the contents out, so that Peter's cum dripped in thick white globs onto her tongue. She paused for just a moment, mouth open, and then swallowed.

"Oh my god, I'm hard all over again," Peter said.

"Too bad we're out of time."

"I'll take you on another date soon," he said.

Curtis said nothing, so Becca looked over at him. The bulge in his jeans assured her he had definitely enjoyed the show.

She turned back to Peter. "Maybe," she said on a whim, "Next time we could invite your wife." She supposed that there was nothing wrong with seeing, or fucking the same guy twice. She'd hated and loved almost everything he'd done. Calling her Slutbecca in front of the waitress, teasing her, embarrassing her, and then denying her - it all made her feel like such a slut. Just like the taste of his cum in her mouth did.

He finished dressing. She stripped off her skirt. She wanted to wear a different outfit to the next date. Naked, under the watchful eye of Curtis, she kissed Peter goodbye at the door, and then he was gone.

"Well," Curtis said, "you're all set. I'll see you later."

"I'm not in that much of a rush. Can I do something about that?" She pointed to his crotch.

"I'm here to protect you, not to, well, you know," Curtis said, but she didn't think his heart was in it.

"Yes, and such selflessness deserves a reward." She knelt in front of him, and unzipped his pants. He didn't protest. His cock was pleasingly large, well-shaped, and most importantly, already hard.

He didn't take long to come in her mouth. Apparently he'd enjoyed watching.

She stood up. "I have another date tonight, if you'd like to watch. But we might be a while. Guys like to spend time eating and stuff." She rolled her eyes.

Curtis grinned. "Sure."

She showered. He watched. She brushed her teeth, and freshened her lipstick. After putting on a garter belt, stockings, a skimpy black dress, and heels, she headed out the door with him following. She wanted to allow plenty of time. She was in the driver's seat before she realized she'd forgotten to put on panties.

She certainly wasn't going back for them. She switched her podcast back on. A soft, hypnotic voice was speaking.

It feels so good to be a slut, and the sluttier you are, the better you feel. The better you feel, the more slutty you want to be.

It was so true.