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Author's Chapter Notes:

This is way dirty and for sherlockelly because she asked me to write smut and because she drunkenly told me I was amazing like four times today so. Also, I hate how this ends, but ending porn is hard and you guys probably won't even care about the lame ending anyway. This is also completely not proofread, so. Enjoy the porn!

Also. I own nothing.

Somehow on their first date, once they get past all the catching up and the explanations and apologies and confessions, they start talking about sex. And it isn’t really all that awkward until she finishes her third glass of wine and then she just lets out a long breath while starting absently out the window and says, “God, I haven’t been fucked in almost a year.”

The words coming from her mouth stir something inside of him, but then curiosity and confusion take over and he’s asking, “What about when you got back with Roy? You didn’t-”

She’s shaking her head, “No. I wouldn’t- I didn’t want to. I mean, we did things, but not- Well.”

He nods, getting it and not really wanting to hear any more about what exactly she did and did not do with Roy.

He watches her run her index finger along the rim of her glass. The neckline of her dress plunges dangerously and he’d meant for this just to be a night of reconnecting as friends. But now her arms are unintentionally pushing her breasts together and she’s just proclaimed her sexual frustration to him and he isn’t sure how much more he can handle.

Then she says, “I never had an orgasm with him when we got back together is, I guess, the point.”

She’s swaying a little in her seat from the alcohol and her cheeks are flushed. All he can do anymore is nod and say, “Huh.”

She breathes in, pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and then looks at him, “Anyway, I’m just sick of doing it myself, you know? It’s nice, but-” She tilts her head to the side as if she’s examining something that isn’t there.

He gulps. “Uh, yeah, I-”

“Of course you probably haven’t had to tend to yourself in a while, you have a girlfriend. You probably fucked her last night,” she laughs a little under her breath, resting her hand in her chin.

Karen hadn’t wanted to, had been tired, had wanted to rest up for the interview instead even though he swore a good orgasm would relax her and she’d do even better the next morning. She’d rolled over onto her side, facing away from him despite his hands moving under her shirt. She’d swatted him away and said, “Jim, I’m serious.”

He doesn’t tell her this though, because she doesn’t give him the chance.

“I’m sorry. I’m not usually this, well- But give me a few glasses of wine and pent up sexual energy,” she laughs softly.

“Yeah, well-” He feels like he’s drowning here and doesn’t know what to say in response to these things. He can’t tell if she’s looking for an invitation or if she’s just talking to him as a friend. And he’s only just now finishing his second beer so he quickly signals for the waitress to bring him another.

“I guess I just miss that feeling of being with someone, you know? Of having someone else making me come,” she says this just as the waitress comes back to their table with another glass of beer for him and yet another glass of wine for her. Pam quickly takes a gulp of her wine and says, “Not that Roy didn’t try when we got back together. There was this whole awful drunken incident with him trying to go down on me, but- It was just horrible and messy and I wound up just telling him to stop. He was never very good at that anyway.”

She smiles at him over the rim of her wine glass then. He’s staring down at where his hands rest loosely around the width of his glass. She says, “You’re being awfully quite about all this. Tell me what Karen did that you liked or maybe didn’t like so much.”

His eyes shoot up at her and she’s got her eyebrows raised suggestively and he’s almost positive that a sober Pam wouldn’t even dare ask about his sex life with Karen. But here she is with her breasts and her bravado and he swallows thickly before answering while his eyes trail over her neck and her collarbones and the tops of her breasts, “Hand jobs?” He doesn’t know why it comes out like a question.

“Now we’re onto something,” she says, laughing from somewhere deep in her gut as the wine in her glass sloshes around a little. She lowers her head just a little and looks up at him through half closed lids, “She was good at that, huh?”

He scratches the back of his head and says, “Yeah. Yeah, she was,” and he really isn’t drunk enough for this.

She wait’s a second and when he doesn’t continue says, “Where did she like to jerk you off most?”

He swallows the rest of his beer. “The car. I started riding my bike to work and sometimes when I wasn’t feeling much like biking back to my place, she’d give me a ride. And she liked to get me off before I went inside.”

Her fingers run along the neckline of her dress, pulling at the fabric while she bites her bottom lip. “What else did she do for you?”

He feels himself stir in his pants a little when he realizes that this is turning her on. “She let me fuck her from behind,” he says, trying to let go of his inhibitions like she has. “She let me bend her over the back of the couch and fuck her.”

She shifts in her seat, uncrosses her legs and then crosses them again. “Roy used to bend me over the sink in the morning and fuck me while I still had toothpaste in my mouth.”

He can feel that he’s getting hard. “I liked to just push the skirt of her dress up around her hips and fuck her without taking off any clothes.”

She’s leaning forward even more than she was before and now he can just barely see the start of her nipples. He scoots his chair in a little in hopes that no one else will be able to tell what this is doing to him.

“Was she loud?”

He can’t help but groan a little at the way she’s talking now, low and quiet and deep. “Not really. She moaned a lot, but she wasn’t necessarily loud about it.”

“I’m loud when I come.” And, fuck, he can’t even being to process that thought before he’s nearly barking at the waitress to bring them their check.

She giggles at him, finishing the glass of wine. “Ready to go, huh?”

He looks up at her seriously from across the table and says, “You have no idea.”

She moves her hips in her seat, rolling them back and forth once. “Oh, I think I have a bit of an idea.” And then as he’s singing the receipt and putting his credit card back in his wallet, she leans across the table and whispers, “I’m so wet right now, you won’t even believe it.”

Won’t. Will not. He will not believe it. He has to steady his hands for a second and breathe deeply in and out before he can stand up. Once he’s regained some semblance of composure, he takes her by the hand and all but pulls her right out of the restaurant.

She’s kissing him before they make it to his car. She’s kissing him hard in the middle of the parking lot and she tastes like red wine and she’s pressing against him, her stomach right against his increasingly painful erection. Her holds onto her hips as her tongue finds his and then he pulls back, “Car. Now.”

They both jog across the parking lot until they find his car. She’s running her tongue along his jaw while he’s trying to get the door unlocked. When he finally gets the key in, her hands move down to where he’s straining against his pants. “Shit-” He says, falling forward a little and pressing her between himself and the car door. She squeezes him through his pants and he swears he’s going to come right then. He turns his face into her neck and says, “Pam, please, I can’t-”

But then she’s sliding out from between him and the car and walking around to her side. She climbs in with ease, leaving him standing there dazed for a few seconds.

He finally gets in the car and as they’re pulling out of the parking lot, he feels her hand on his thigh. She’s sitting there with this grin on her face and then she says, “She liked to jerk you off in the car, huh?” And her hand moves further up his thigh until her fingertips are just barely grazing him. His hips jerk a little and he grips the steering wheel even harder.

“I think I can do it better than she can,” she says, stroking him once as he pulls into traffic, trying hard to keep his focus on the road. She strokes him again, “What do you think?”

He’s so thankful that they’ve come to a stoplight. He leans back in his seat, his head lolling back against the headrest as she strokes him slowly up and down. Then she stops and he groans in protest, turning his head to look at her. “You didn’t answer the question,” she says. “Do you think I can make you come harder than she did?”

He shuts his eyes tight and nods emphatically. She undoes the buckle on his belt and lets her fingers hover over the button of his pants. “Say it,” she says.

“Yes, God. Pam. Yes,” he pleads with her, pushing his hips up into her hand.

The light turns green as she unzips his fly and slips her hand into his boxers. “Oh, Christ,” he says at the feeling of her warm palm against him. Her thumb runs against his tip, squeezing a little and he almost swerves into the next lane. She starts to move her hand faster and in the corner of his eye, he can see her pulling her bottom lip between her teeth with her free hand resting between her legs but not doing anything and- “Fuck, Pam, I’m coming,” he says, pressing the gas harder.

She keeps stroking him until his orgasm subsides and then they’re at another stoplight and she still had her hand around him. She gives him one last slow stroke and then stops.

“Uh, there are napkins in the glove compartment,” which he thinks is the wrong thing to say to a girl after she gets you off for the first time, but she smiles and finds them, cleaning up the mess while he pulls into the lot for her apartment.

He parks his car in one of the guest spaces and shuts off the engine. He thinks maybe the alcohol is starting to wear off because her eyes look a little fearful as she glances from him to her building.

Still, maybe it hasn’t worn off entirely because when he asks her what she wants to do now she says, “I want you to fuck me like you like to fuck Karen.”

So they’re standing in the middle of her living room, his mouth hot on her neck and her breasts pushing into his chest. And he sort of wants to change his mind about not the whole not taking off any clothes idea because he wants to feel her skin, wants to have the weight of her breasts in his hands, wants to run his hands over the smooth expanse of her back as she folds over the couch, pulling her hair over her shoulder as she looks back at him.

But when he reaches around for the zipper on her dress, she stops him. “No.”

He pulls the shoulder of her dress back enough to kiss her there over and over. Then he groans and says, “I’m sorry. Please, can I take off your clothes? I need to- God, your skin.” He dips his head to press an open mouth kiss the hollow between her collarbones and then moves his mouth down her chest, his tongue leaving a hot trail between her breasts.

She moans from deep in her throat. “Yes,” she says simply, moving his hands back to the zipper.

He pulls it down gently and the dress falls to the floor in one fluid movement. His hands move across her stomach instantly, his fingers dipping below the waistband of her panties. He slides them down her thighs, his palms running against the skin with them until he lets them drop and she steps out of them, kicking them across the room.

She takes her bra off for him and his mouth is immediately sucking on one of her nipples. “Oh, God, Jim,” she gasps, her head rolling backwards, pushing her breast even further into his mouth.

With her hands on either side of his head, she pulls him away and looks at him. “Now.” And when he furrows his brow in confusion, she says, “I want you now.”

He kisses her fiercely, their teeth knocking together, before he turns her around and pushes her towards the couch in a way that’s trying to be gentle but also trying not to be because he isn’t what she wants. She looks over her shoulder at him, “Are you rough with Karen when you take her from behind?”

He nods, pushing her even further so she has no choice but to bend over the back of the couch. He reaches down to undo his fly and stroke himself as she sets her feet a little wider apart. He can see her hair falling forward over her face and the way her shoulder blades move beneath her skin as she reaches a hand between her legs to touch herself. She lets out a breathy moan and says, “Jim, please, I’m so ready.”

He takes a few steps forward until he’s behind her. He puts his own hand between her legs, running his index finger along her opening. And he really can’t believe how wet she is. She shudders at his touch and pushes her hips back towards him.

He pushes into her slowly and she’s so tight and wet that he feels like he’ll go blind from the sensation. She lets out a loud, “Oh,” drawing the syllable out as he starts to move in and out of her. Her hand is back at her clit, her index and middle finger working quick circles around it.

“Oh, shit, Jim. That feels so good.” She was right about being loud, “Oh, fuck. Keep fucking me.”

He starts to move faster, pushing into her deep like he did with Karen. Pushing himself all the way in until she gasps from the feeling. Her fingers start to move faster on her clit and her hips are meeting his thrusts, her ass hitting against the cotton of his dress pants. She lets out another moan and says, “Please. I’m so close.”

Then he feels her clenching around him and she’s moaning incoherently and collapsing onto the couch cushions. The feel of her muscles tightening around him sends him over and he’s pulsing inside of her while he grunts with each final thrust.

He pulls out of her and she slowly rolls over, causing the lower half of her body to fall onto the couch with her. She looks up at him as he puts himself back into his pants, zipping up his fly and running his palms against the front of his jeans.

“So was I better?” She asks.
He looks down at her, sprawled on her couch completely naked and glowing, a smile on her face. “Definitely better.”

She frowns then. “I don’t usually- I mean. On a first date. This isn’t how I am normally.”

He walks around the couch and sits on the edge of the coffee table. She turns over on her other side to look at him. “I know,” he says, “Me neither.”

She laughs then. “God, what are we doing?”

He bends down and kisses her. “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t mind doing it again,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“You, my friend, are far too clothed for this,” she says, pulling on his tie, laughing.

He kisses her again, muttering against her lips something about this being the best first date he’s ever had as he hooks an arm under her knees and carries her towards the bedroom.



unfold is the author of 102 other stories.
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