The Party Favor - Cover

The Party Favor

Copyright© 2012 by Lubrican

Chapter 7

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 7 - Can cheating be a good thing? Are there situations and circumstances under which society's ban on extramarital sex should be broken? If your answer was "No!" then I want you to read this story. On the other hand, if your answer was "Yes!" then you might be a cheater, and you should probably read this story too. It will be interesting to see who feels better about it all at the end.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Reluctant   Heterosexual   Cheating   Interracial   White Female   Oriental Male   Oral Sex   Petting   Slow  

She nuzzled his shoulder, just outside his armpit.

"Again!" she demanded.

"I'm a dancer, woman, not a satyr!" he groaned.

"Again!" She repeated her demand as if he hadn't spoken.

"Third time is not a charm when it comes to making love," he said. "I haven't done this in a long time. I'm out of practice ... rusty."

"You're not rusty. You drove me almost crazy," she said, licking his shoulder.

"You're easy to drive almost crazy," he said. "You've been neglected for a long time. But like a man dying of thirst can kill himself when he finds water, you need to pace yourself."

"I am such a slut," she moaned.

"You're anything but a slut," he said, squeezing her.

"I'm a slut for you," she moaned again.

"That's just extremely good taste. That's all that is," he said.

"Again!"

The last time she'd started that up, after their first frantic coupling, he'd ordered her to suck him, thinking she'd object to her own fluids on him, and decide it was time for that shower. She hadn't. She'd eagerly sucked him hard and then flopped, eager to have him impale her again. Her mantra of "Hurry ... hurry ... hurry" had made him too excited, and he'd only lasted half an hour before he groaned and flushed her full again. The second time, she'd put her lips next to his ear and hissed "Yesssssss," as he ejaculated. It had almost driven him mad.

In those seconds, he knew he had to have this woman forever. He was ready to quit dancing, if that's what she wanted. Anything short of murder or some equally egregious felonious behavior, he would do gladly, if she would only choose him over all other men.

Now he was rethinking that. She might actually kill him with her demands.

"Make you a deal," he said.

"The only kind of deal I want is you in me," she pouted.

"Let's take a shower ... get something to eat ... rest just a little while ... and I promise I can go for an hour after that."

"In whose dream?" she scoffed. "Men don't go for an hour."

"I can." He waited, and then thought to add something to that. "If I'm given time to prepare first."

"You're going to put on a condom," she said.

"Never in a million years would I put something between you and me," he said. "Unless you demand it be done some other way, I'll always love you bareback, and I'll always cum inside you."

"What about after I have your sixth ... or seventh ... or eighth child?" she asked gleefully.

"Then I'll get a second job," he said.


The shower didn't help. It only inflamed her more, because they took it together. His hands sliding over her body made her writhe, and his muscles under her soapy hands made her sob with need.

He took pity on her by carrying her back to the bedroom still soaking wet, and sucking her clit through four orgasms in a row. Then he alternated kissing her lips, and sucking her nipples while he searched for her G-spot with his hooked finger, while she shuddered through three more. Finally she was too weak to actively seek more, and he left her to rest while he prepared something for them to eat.

She stayed all night and, since he didn't have to go to work until seven the next evening, she stayed all day the next day too. She stayed naked and teased him so much that he finally began to ignore her. She pouted, but it didn't do any good. When he was capable of making love to her, he did. At other times he read a book, or played a computer game. Once, he spanked her, but found out to both his and her surprise, that she actually liked that.

All day long she simply watched him, drinking him in, breathing deeply and imaging his essence flooding her lungs. She knew she was hopelessly in love with him, and that it could be a terrible mistake if he wasn't as sincere about his affections as he said he was. But she needed this almost more than life itself, and so she wallowed in it.

As she watched him get dressed to go to work, she finally asked the question she had been dreading all day.

"When will I see you again?"

"Well, I have to go to work. And then tomorrow I have an appointment with my doctor, for him to evaluate whether I'm healthy enough to have this relationship with you, and then..." He stopped, as if he was trying to remember, but she knew he was waiting for her to react to the joke.

"I love you," she whispered, scared out of her mind that he'd reject her.

"That's good," he said. "It would be exceedingly awkward if I kept chasing you around town and you didn't."

"So you're going to keep chasing me?"

"Only until you catch me," he said.

"People will think I'm a cougar," she sighed.

"I'm thirty-one, Jen," he said. "We Orientals age well."

"You are not!" she said, heat in her voice.

He picked up his wallet from the dresser and tossed it to her. "I carded you. It's only fair that you card me too."

She did dig through his wallet, looking for his driver's license, but only because her hands were shaking so hard she had to do something with them. He was only three years younger? Could it possibly be? She felt something leap in her chest as she saw the plastic card, with his image on it. He was telling the truth!

"If anything, people will think I'm a gold digger," he said, buttoning his shirt.

"That's ridiculous," she said. "I don't have any money."

"You will if you want to," he said. "We have this high powered lawyer who is representing the club and all us guys against the suits. He has friends who are representing some of the women. The reason Brandi started having parties, and the reason most of those women started going in the first place, was because they found out about their husbands' affairs. Some of those women have been collecting data on their cheating spouses for years, and when those guys get into court, they're in for a very rude awakening."

Jennifer nodded, her eyebrows rising. "I found out Roger had a whole other family on the side. He married this woman ... or at least he pretended to get married. He even got her pregnant twice! At least that's what she claims. He told her I was fighting the divorce, and she actually asked me to move on with my life so she can be with him!"

"Paternity test and wham! Half of everything he has is yours."

"I don't know if I want to go through that," she said. "I'd almost rather be poor."

"That's fine with me," he said. "I'm not after you for your money."

"Oh? And how do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Because if you can't tell by now, that means I have to go two hours, and no woman has been able to stand it for two hours. You'd go stark raving mad, and have an unending, permanent orgasm."

She remembered feeling like she wanted what was happening to her to last for days, and smiled.

"So where do we go from here?" she asked.

"I want to spend as much time with you as you'll let me spend with you," he said.

"Are you asking me to live with you?"

"If you want that, I'd be delighted," he said. "I still want to volunteer at the center. That was fun, and it made me feel better about myself."

"Why did you feel bad about yourself?" she asked.

"Because I went there to seduce you ... for selfish purposes."

She went to him and brushed her lips across his, very briefly.

"Again!" she whispered. She backed up. "Now do you feel selfish?"

He grinned. "I do not," he said. "I feel lucky."


When Jennifer used her key to enter the employee entrance, one of the sometimes night volunteers, a college student named Roy, was washing pots and pans.

"There's a girl who came here hours ago asking for you," he said. "She's been crying and screaming ever since. Nobody can console her. She keeps asking for you."

"Who is she?" asked Jennifer.

"She says she's your daughter."

Tiffany was sitting in a corner, huddled and sniffling. Two homeless people were trying to talk to her, but she wouldn't answer them. When she saw Jennifer she burst into tears and crawled toward her mother.

It took five minutes, but finally she calmed down enough to tell her mother she was pregnant.


Another half an hour established that Tiffany was two months pregnant, and that the only boy she'd had sex with, to her knowledge, was Todd, the college student her mother had refused to let take her to the mall that night. By circumventing her mother, she had put herself in a position where Todd got her drunk and fucked her. Not that she was a virgin at the time. She'd been having sex since she was thirteen. It had been her sexual adventures, in fact that started her fights with her mother. Once she was an "experienced woman" in her own mind, she felt like her mother treated her like a baby, and resented it.

But she had always made the boys use a condom. Todd, once he'd had her, took her whenever he wanted, calling her his girlfriend, knowing that the impressionable fifteen-year-old would be too excited to think about anything. And Todd never used a condom. Condoms were for babies, he said.

Of course, when she told him she was pregnant, he called her a slut and told her never to talk to him again, and that if she claimed it was his, he'd sue her.

Had she talked to her father, things might have worked out differently. As a lawyer, he would have been able to inform her that she had all the aces in this game. But she knew he'd be furious with her. He'd been calling her "My pure, sweet baby girl" and "My sweet, innocent virgin" for two years. She didn't think that was odd. Had she talked to her mother, things might have worked out differently. As an adult woman, her mother would have been alert to the fact that Daddy was much too interested - in inappropriate ways - in the sexual status of his nubile daughter.

But she only talked to her mother when it was absolutely required.

So she had done what thousands of teenagers do. She waited, hoping that it would just all go away. But now, her body was changing in ways that made it clear there was a little human growing inside her, and it terrified her.

So she had sought out her mother to get money for an abortion.

It was at this point, the point where the word "abortion" came from her daughter's lips, that Jennifer sobered up.

"I don't have any money," she said. "Your father has all the money. You're going to have to talk to him about that."

"I can't!" wailed Tiffany. "He'll kill me! He keeps talking about how someday he's going to walk his virgin daughter down the aisle!"

"Non the less, he's the one who gave you permission to let that boy take you places. He's the one with the money. There's nothing I can do for you."

Tiffany's face turned ugly. "You won't help me!" she screamed. "All you can think about is that I went around you to Daddy when I wanted something. You never gave me anything! You always treated me like a baby! I hate you!"

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