Fat Fetishizing

 

Painting of Lola by Erics Figure Art

[Continued from Feedie for a Night]

It was the Saturday before Halloween.  The night of the party.  Lo had tried on, adjusted, removed, retried, readjusted the Princess Leia costume at least ten times.  She tried manipulating a sash to go across her tum, but that didn’t work.  Not only would it not stay up, it also disguised the costume to the extent that she just looked like a woman from 1001 Nights.  She tried a cape that, if she felt she needed it, she could drape it around her.  She thought that would be a good compromise and she tucked the cape into the collar of the costume.  But it kept falling out.  She tried using a binder clip to affix it, but that was uncomfortable.  In the end she said, “Fine.  Fuck it!”

“That’s what everyone will be saying to you at the party,” I reassured her, “Very fine.  I’ll fuck it.”

“I’m not an it,” she reminded me.

“I know, but I get poetic license for the sake of a pun.”

“Whatever.”

She was in a grouchy mood because, no matter what she did, her round rolls of her tum were prominent.  “It’s like I have three sets of tits,” she complained.

“What?” I asked.

“Here, here, and here,” she said, running her hands over her breasts and then her first roll round the middle of her tum and then her second roll just above her black triangle.

“Lo, but that’s what Mr. Biggs (and I, if I say so myself) find so fucking attractive about you!”

“Fat fetishizing.”

“Darling, if you weren’t fat, I’d fetishize on something else about you.”

“So you’re saying I’m fat!”

“You said it!”

“Grrrrrr.”

BBMPDG Lola

Lo’s phone rang.  It was Mr. Biggs.

“I gotta run!” Lo said to me, darting towards the door.

“No kiss?”

She scuttled back in her brown, strappy heels to give me a peck on the cheek.

“I wish I could go with you,” I said.

“I’ll tell you all about it,” she said with a wink.

“You’ll have fun at your party,” she said.

As it turned out, I had been invited to a party down the street.  Lo said that if the party she was going to with Mr. Biggs was a bust, then she’d join me.  In order to keep with her costume theme, I had bought a Boba Fett outfit, just in case.

Lo was off.  I heard the car pull away from the curb.  For an account of the Hutt’s mistreatment of the Princess, I had to wait until later that night when Lo returned home.  She never did make it to join me at my humdrum Halloween party.

A.I. of Lola and Leia with Darth Vader

It was past three in the morning when I heard the clickity-clop of my princess’s heels on the wooden floor in the hallway.  She took her shoes off there and then silently slipped into the bedroom and into the master bath.  She turned on the light and left the door slightly ajar.  I saw her from the darkness of the bed as she brushed her teeth, still dressed in her costume.  She then sat on the toilet, peed, and came to bed.

“Daddy, are you awake?”

I feigned sleep.  I didn’t want her to think I was so eager.

“Daddy,” she whispered again, closer to my ear.

I grunted.

She reached for my cock under the covers.

“You’re hard,” she whispered with joy in her voice.  She wanted to get laid, I could tell.

I grunted again.

“Stay asleep,” she coaxed, “roll on your back.  Let me use your cock.  I’ll be quick, I promise.”

I rolled on my back.  She pulled my pj bottoms down.  She lowered herself down on my erect shaft slowly.  She was soaking wet.  I slid in easy as could be.

She began bopping up and down, using her index and middle fingers of her right hand to rub circles around her clit.  She was cumming within seconds.  Her moans, groans, and prayers to God were not quiet.  I opened my eyes.  I saw she was still in her princess getup.

“Lola?” I said, as if startled from a dream.

“Shhh, Daddy, I’m almost done.”

“How was your night?” I asked.  I didn’t want her to be done.

“It was good.”

“Good?” I asked.  I was looking for something a bit more descriptive than “good.”

She was posting up-and-down on my cock, revving up for her second orgasm.  Her front teeth were biting down on her lower lip.

“Tell me more,” I implored.

“Grab my tum,” she said.

I did.  It was bouncing up and down and jiggling, just how I like it.

“Am I fat, Daddy?”

Trick question.  Was she in the mood to be fat?  Would saying yes ruin the mood?  I rolled the dice.

“Yes.”

“Fuckable fat?”

“Yes.”

“Freaky fat?”

“Yes.”

She brought herself to an orgasm.  She lifted her pussy up off of my rod to rain her cum down on me and then turn around, reverse cowgirl, and slip right back into the saddle.  I noticed as she did so that she was clean shaven.  When she left the house a few hours ago, she had a hairy bush.

She rode me as I watched her ass rise and fall with stronger and stronger strides down on my cock.  It was as if she needed more, deeper, longer, harder, thicker, fatter.

I could hear her sloppy, wet pussy slapping down and splashing on my hips.  She groaned and growled in rhythm with her own beat.  The sound grew more insistent.  She was reaching, striving for that second (or third?) orgasm, but not quite reaching it.  She pulled forward and turned around on all fours.

“Get behind me!” she insisted, as if there was no time to lose.  “Get in me and fuck me.  Fuck me hard!”

I was on my knees pounding my pelvis into her, slamming her with every ounce of energy I had.  Her head was bouncing forward into the headboard of the bed.  She didn’t care.  The new position wasn’t doing it for her.  She pulled off of me.  She got on her back and slid to the side of the bed with her legs in the air.  The sheets and blankets were soaked by now.

I stood on the side of the bed and held her ankles as I entered her pussy.

“Grab my tits,” she said.  “Pull.”  I pulled her nipples.

“Grab my tum,” she said.  “Slap it.”  I did.  I held it with my fingers like it was dough for kneading.  I slapped it.  I slapped her tits.  She grabbed my right hand and moved it to her cheek.  I knew what she wanted.  I don’t like to do it.  She slowly moved my hand in the motion of what she wanted me to do.  I followed through.  I slapped her, gently at first, across the face.

“Again!” she said.

I slapped her again.

“Harder!”

I slapped her harder.

I did this around ten times.

“Now my pussy,” she said.

I pulled out and slapped her pussy with my palm.

“Harder, faster.”

I gave her pussy about ten hard slaps.

She was frustrated.  She pushed me away.  With her legs in the air, she slapped her own pussy as if punishing it severely.  WHACK!  WHACK!  WHACK!  Until she was squirting all over the floor.  She fell backwards and collapsed in the sopping wet bed.  She passed out, leaving me standing over her, hard-up.

I walked away, went to the bathroom, washed up, dried off, and then walked to the living room couch where I went to sleep.

In the next installment – Leia and the Hutt

Protected: A Wet Workout and a Wank

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Labor Day – Two Women who Work

Mrs. Sins

Today is Labor Day and in honor of those who work, we want to introduce you to two friends (of ours and each other) who work hard for their money. We also want to ask you to support them through a very special gift.

Samantha (Sammi) Masog and Mrs. Sins.

I’ll let Sammi tell you about herself and her business:

My name is Sammi.  I am from a small town in central Minnesota.  I am currently expecting my first child.  My husband and I are very excited and nervous!  We have two beautiful little kittys named Heinrich and Leonardo.  I have always loved photography.  I am the person that notices the small things most would overlook.

While looking to make a living from the thing I love doing I stumbled across boudoir.  It was super intriguing to me.   It was a way for women to feel like the sexual creatures that they are, but also gave them a chance to see their beauty in a different light.  We sometimes get stuck in being a role for other people and forget to see who we really are.  So I started taking on clients.  It was incredible to see these people light up with the way they saw themselves through my eyes.  I ended up with a whole new appreciation for the human form.   In every body is something truly spectacular.  If you look for the beauty, it’s easy to see.  Society has made this a much more difficult task, especially towards ourselves.   Because of this and knowing exactly how it feels to be told you’re not pretty enough and that no one wants you, I want to make sure women everywhere know that is untrue.   That led me to become a life coach.  I wanted to help people in a more specific way.   So I honed in on empowering women.  Thus my Empowerment Coaching was born.

I coach women to unlearn the negative things about themselves and to learn how to embrace the beauty they already behold.  Through monthly or biweekly session I help break down those barriers that keep us thinking “I wish I looked like (blank).”   We work on affirmations to ensure that you are your most confident and true self.  There is so much more to this world than just looking beautiful all the time.  We need to cherish every part of ourselves.  And I want to help people do that.  When I combine coaching with my photography I can help women truly accept who they are and not who they think they should be.

Samantha Masog, Self Portrait

Samantha has used her talents and art to inspire so many women to be confident and proud of themselves. And, as she describes it, it is a labor of love. She also will be going into labor soon.

Speaking of going into labor, Mrs. Sins – already confident and proud of her beauty – took a set of photos when she was pregnant that we think you might enjoy!

Mrs. Sins expecting

Mrs. Sins Pregnant

 

Though she sometimes takes selfies, usually Mrs. Sins is photographed by her loving husband, Mr. Sins. Though he tends to be a little more camera shy than the Mrs.

 

 

 

Mr. & Mrs. Sins

Unlike a lot of the people we profile here, Mr. & Mrs. Sins don’t run an OF page or anything else to make money off of their artful photography. They do it for the sheer love of it.

Did I say “sheer”?

They recently requested a copy of Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume V: Shorter Shorts and said that they loved it!

Mrs. Addy Sins reads Match, Cinder & Spark

Cover as Cover Up

 

Sometimes Mommy Needs some Alone Time

In order to show our appreciation and to help out two amazing women, we ask you to contact Sammi and make a donation to help pay for Addy to do a boudoir session with her and get some professional sexy photographs made of her for Mr. Sins, you, and all of us!

You can contact her here:

Instagram: rose.lens.empower
Facebook: Facebook.com/roselensempower

Mr. & Mrs. Sins

 

Kinksters Connect Despite Cornonavirus

Hello Friends, Fans, Readers, and Rogues,

These are challenging times, especially for kinksters who like to fuck and fuck a lot.

In order to help us all feel more connected, we (HH & I) are going to do our best to make our community feel as connected as possible.

Recently we read about two of our favorite bloggers struggling. (Right now they are just struggling mentally, not economically or with health issues, but mental health is as important or more important than everything else.)

Please reach out to them and show them some love.  No, show them LOTS of love!

The first is one of my besties, The Lustful Empress.  She recently wrote a post in which she said she was having some body image issues.

We think she is absolutely fabulous!  She’s turning 40 soon, so wish her a great new decade please.

Our other blogging buddy is Cara Thereon. We go WAY BACK with her and she’s one of the OG kinkster blogging folks from when we started and we have remained friends ever since. We just saw her recently and were so jealous of her going again to Eroticon while we stayed home.  But, alas, Eroticon was cancelled due to Coronavirus.  Cara has been suffering from daily panic attacks ever since traveling and she too could use some of your love.

Here are TLE and CT from some of their posts over the years. You can see that they are BEAUTIFUL people. Their writing and personalities are just as beautiful.

Stay safe & sexy everyone!

Love,

Lola & HH

p.s. – If you’re a kinkster blogger and you’re struggling, drop us a line.

The Lustful Empress with Lola

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Very Thankful

mysexlifewithlola.com

It was Thanksgiving weekend and we had been invited to a family-friend’s house in Miami for the occasion.  Our host’s apartment was in one of the tall high-rise buildings downtown and was not nearly large enough to accommodate all the guests overnight, so Lo and I got a hotel room close by.  Being from up north, it took a lot of getting used to Thanksgiving without the brilliant foliage hues of warm oranges, deep reds, and brilliant yellows.  Rather, seeing palm trees, blue skies, and beaches made this weekend feel like any other vacation weekend.

We had arrived on Wednesday, the most highly traveled day of the year in America, but despite my travel anxiety, the trip went off without a hitch.  We got settled in our hotel early that day and then made our way down to Miami Beach where Lo slipped into her skimpy little bikini and we quickly made the transition from trudging through ankle high snow to gliding through soft golden sand and refreshing surf.  My staying out of Lo’s crosshairs was next to impossible on this beach because no matter where I turned there was another scantily clad sexy woman walking, lying in the sun, swimming, playing volleyball, or applying sunscreen.  Each time I looked up, I was in trouble with her.

Finally I said to her, “What do you want me to do, put blinders on?”

To my great surprise she smiled and said, “I’m just kidding.  Look all you want.  Go on the BP.”  BP is our code word for “Butt Patrol.”

“What?  Wait.  Say that again.  I think I have an inner ear infection.  I thought you said, ‘Look all you want.’”

“That’s what I said.  You’re not hearing things.  There are too many beautiful women on this beach for me to be jealous of all of them.”

Well, this was certainly a change.  At first it was a welcome change, but within mere moments of it setting in I became very disconcerted.  Does this mean she doesn’t love me anymore?  Has she lost interest?  Is she less invested in me, my feelings, my love?  A mini-crisis of faith descended over me and suddenly I lost all interest in any of the scenery.

We walked a little further in silence and then she added, “Also, I just feel fat.”

“Fat?!” I cried out.  “Lo, you’re beautiful!  Perfect!  A goddess!  A zaftig, sexy, siren.”

“Zaftig means fat,” she said flatly.

“No.  Zaftig means pleasantly plump and juicy.  You know that.  That’s exactly what you are, you little squirt.”

Zaftig Lola

“Wouldn’t you prefer her or her or her?” she asked, pointing at different stick-skinny-blondes on the beach.

“If I did, I would be with her, her, or her.”

“Then why don’t you go with them?”

“Now you’re just fishing for more compliments.”

“No,” she said, “I’m serious.”

“Because I love you.  I want you.  I find you attractive.  And so do a lot of other people, I might add.”

Her hand reached out to hold mine and we walked a little further, but the sun was beating down and it was soon far too hot to be out there in the direct light of noon.

We headed toward Ocean Boulevard and I thought we were looking for a cool – literally cool – place to have lunch, but Lo, of course, had other ideas.  We had passed a strip club on the way to the beach and apparently she took mental note.  She directed us right there and we ducked in to get out of the heat and into the steamy striptease.  But, little did we know, Miami isn’t like New York or D.C. where they have performances all day, all night.  No one was dancing.  It was just another dive bar.

The bearded bartender asked what we’d have and Lo said, “I came here to have a show.  Where are the dancers?”

“Oh, they don’t come on until eight or nine,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Fine, then make me a margarita and make it strong,” she demanded, visibly disappointed.

“I’ll have a piña colada” I said.

Lo was sitting with her elbows on the bar, her biceps boosting up her boobs in her bikini top.  The bartender obviously enjoyed the view.  He made conversation with her, almost ignoring me.

“Sorry the ladies aren’t on now,” he said.  “But I know a few who’d like to put on a show for you,” he added.  “And I’d like to see that.”

He asked us where we were from and so forth.  Lo was flirting with him and rubbing my leg with her foot, but he couldn’t see that.  Did she want him?

We each had our drink, cooled down and then, when we asked for the tab, the bartender said it was on the house.  Lo smiled flirtatiously and I put down a healthy cash tip.

“What now?” I asked Lo, to see where her whims would take her.

“Let’s just fuck,” she said.

We went straight back to the hotel and Lo stripped out of what little she was wearing.

She looked pleasantly plump and juicy and I told her so.

“Show me how bad you want me,” she said.

I pulled down my bathing suit and revealed my incredibly rigid cock pointing right at her.

“Mmmmmm, good,” she replied, lying back on the bed.

I climbed on the bed and lifted her legs in the air.  She had crossed her legs doing a little stripper move and I entered her as I held her up by her ankles.  She moaned.  Then I took her beautiful, soft feet, one in each hand, and gently rubbed her soles on my cheeks as I looked down at her, fondling her nipples.  She held my head between her feet and I grabbed her hips.

“I want to fuck your round rump,” I said.  I slid my hands up the side of her body to her tum and grabbed a handful of her flesh.  I held her by her doughy roll and I loved it.  “You know,” I said, “I find this part of you even more sexy than your tits.”

“Now you’re just making me feel self-conscious and fat,” she said.

“I love it,” I said to her.

“I don’t,” she said to me.

“Turn over,” I instructed.  She complied.

I began going at her from behind as I smacked her lovely ass cheeks with my hands.  She backed into me, ramming my pole deep into her.  I could feel her intensity growing.  And then she said, “Do you like my ass, Daddy?”

“Love it.”

“Do you like my fat ass?”

She was trying to get me to cum.

“Yes.”

“You like your fat little girl?” she asked seductively.

“I love my fat little girl.”

“Don’t you want to cum all over my fat, fat ass?” she asked and hearing her say that was enough.  I gave her one last thrust before pulling out, and grabbing my cock and ejaculating all over her ass and back, shooting occasionally all the way up to her shoulder blades.  Simultaneously, she began to squirt down on the bed.

“Pleasantly plump.  Very juicy,” I said.

I removed the covers from the bed.  We didn’t need them anyway.  It was warm enough without them.  After I cleaned us both up, we snuggled – big spoon/little spoon.  My hands were around her and I was holding her breast with one hand and her tum with the other.  But then I felt a warm liquid all over my lap.

“Did you just squirt again?” I asked her.

“Yes, Daddy,” she said simply before falling to sleep.

Sometime later, we both woke from our nap.  What had been a blindingly hot day, was now slowly slipping into a cool dusk.  I got up and took a shower.  Lo was still in bed.  Then I sat at the little desk of the hotel room and took out my computer.  I was preparing to post on the blog.  Lo was watching TV.

“What are you watching?” I asked.

“The New Girl.”

“The Nude Girl?”

“No, The New Girl.”

“Oh, cause I was watching The Nude Girl,” I said.

“Who?” she asked, jealously.

“You,” I said, showing her the pics of her on my computer screen.

“Oh, well, you don’t have to look only at the pics, you can have the real thing,” she said, spreading her legs and rubbing her puss.

“Lo,” I said, “Are you getting horny watching TV again?”

“When don’t I?  Besides, Zooey Deschanel is such a MPDG.”

Zooey Deschanel

“A what?”

“You know, a Manic Pixie Dream Girl.”

“No.  I don’t know.  Explain.”

“A Manic Pixie Dream Girl is. . .” she was looking for the right words, “is Zooey Deschanel’s character on this show.”

Lola

“And what’s that?” I asked, not being familiar with the show, this Zooey woman, or the expression.

There are these three guys on the show.  They’re sad, they’re lonely, they’re single.  They’re roommates.  And then comes along Jess who moves in with them.  She’s bubbly.  She’s cheerful.  She’s good-girl-American-girl-cute.  And she’s just what they need.  And they all want to fuck her, secretly or not so secretly.  That’s what an MPDG is.”

“Oh, so in addition to a MILF you also yearn to be an MPDG.”

“Oh no,” said Lo, “I’m both.”

“Is that possible?”

“Not for most women, but I can pull it off.”

“Yeah, you pull it off alright – you pull off your sweater and your bra and suddenly you’re every man’s dream.”

“Watch it!” she warned.  “I still remember how you called me fat.”

Me?” I cried.  “You’re the one who. . .”

“Don’t even,” she said.  “You’ll piss me off and then you’ll have to butter me up.”

“OK,” I said, “If you lie naked, I’ll get a stick of butter.”

She threw a pillow at me and said, “As fun as that sounds – treating me like a butterball turkey – I want to go out on the town tonight.”

“Yeah, tonight and every other night.”

“It’s not every night that we are in Miami,” she said, getting out of bed.

“Where do you want to go?  Another strip club?”

“No no,” she said.  “I’ve got a few places in mind.”

“A few places?!”  It was a good thing I got that long nap in, because usually I am not able to keep up with Lo’s nights out.

She slipped into her bathing suit and, because it was still too early for the club scene, we went up to the hotel’s rooftop pool.  We got a couple of lounge chairs by the side that overlooks Ocean Blvd. and the beach, but we sat facing west to see the sunset.

An older couple sat next to us and the woman removed everything except her bikini bottom.  She looked at me as her obviously surgically enhanced breasts ballooned almost into my face.  “Is she trying to seduce me?” I thought and I saw Lo look sidelong at us both.

Lo and I got in the pool and I swam up to her and whispered, “Lo, that totally was not my fault.  She sat down next to me.  She was trying to impress me.  I didn’t know what to do, so I just smiled politely.”

“It’s ok,” laughed Lo at all my excuses.  “I know.  Besides, she’s got nothing on me,” she said, removing her own bikini top and putting it on the side of the pool.  She and I swam in the pool together as if we were one monstrous fish with four appendages.  I loved being next to her bare torso in the pool with others looking on from the patio.  Then she got out like a goddess and sat in the lounge chair and I went to the bar to order us drinks.  I watched admiringly as others were staring at my little nymph.

I brought her drinks and we enjoyed an indescribably colorful sunset.  I felt as if everything was perfect.

As the pool area emptied out, we went back to the hotel room.  After Lo showered and slipped on a sexy dress and slid into some very sexy heels, we were out and about at one of the city’s dance clubs.  I am no dancer, but I love watching Lo dance.  I ordered my drink at the bar and watched as she danced and flirted with the city’s diverse beauties.  I really think that Miami is perhaps the best looking city in the US.

As I sat and soaked in Lo’s form under the twirling lights, I thought of the Don Henley song, “All She Wants To Do Is Dance.”  Yep, that’s Lo.  All she wants to do is dance. . . and fuck.  And this night it looked like she was doing both out on the dancefloor.

Around two in the morning, she finally came back to me, all sweaty, and said she was ready to go because even though she was having a great time, her feet were killing her.

On our way to the hotel in the back of the Lyft, she pulled out her phone and was looking at something that made her excited.  She already had her shoes off, but as she looked at her phone, she put her bare foot on my lap and said, “Massage it, Daddy.”  She lifted up her other foot and asked me to do the same to that one while her dress revealed her commando crotch.  She used her feet to flirt with my manhood as the driver made small talk, but I could tell that she was way too intoxicated to know what she was doing.  When we got to the hotel, as we were crossing the quiet lobby, she said to me, “Come to the bedroom and fuck me.”

“Lola, I’ll come to the bedroom, but I’m going to sleep.  It’s a quarter-to-three in the morning.”

“No it’s not.  It’s sex-o’clock.  Time for me to cum in the bedroom.”

“In that case, I’m not going to the bedroom.  I’ll stay right here on the couch in the lobby.”

“I can cum on the couch just as easily as in the bedroom.  Even easier, because here I have an audience.”

Realizing the futility of my rebuke, I made sure she got to the hotel room without falling.

I went right to sleep, but at some ungodly hour I woke to find Lo on her phone travelling down dark electronic alleyways at night.

When I awoke in the morning, a flashback of the evening crossed my mind.  Lo was sound asleep, naked, next to me.  I grabbed her phone and scrolled through her history.  Just as I suspected, a number of photos and messages from her Tumblr fans.  Naughty, dirty, taboo, fetish, and wildly NSFW messages and photos.  Good thing we were on vacation and so were most other people for Thanksgiving.  I’ve noticed that around holidays, Lo’s fans really step up.  Loneliness sets in, I suppose, and they reach out.  Lo, ever gracious, always compliments their dick pics and entertains their most depraved fantasies about her.  Every once in a while she draws the line with them, if they disrespect her or disrespect women in general.  Though she is into BDSM, she still wants to be worshipped as a goddess.  It’s a fine line, but make no mistake, there is a line.

Lo’s Call for Tributes

I read a number of conversations that made me laugh.  For instance, in response to one fan who asked, “What’s up?” Lo responded, “If you’re looking at my photos, then your cock.”

To another guy who sent a pic of himself jacking off to her photos, she said, “Looks like you’ve got things well in hand.”

Satisfied that her nocturnal communications were nothing but the innocent fapping fun of a nymphomaniac, I put her phone down and made myself a coffee.

Lo woke, groggy.  She went to the bathroom and was in there for a while.

I had sat down to begin writing.  I had my warm cup of coffee to my left and my notes to my right and I was gazing off to the middle distance contemplating the first line of the story when I heard, “Darling, can you come here?  I need your opinion on something.”

I muttered under my breath, “She’s going to ask me how she looks in something and I will tell her and she’ll disregard my opinion and do whatever the hell she wants to do anyway.  I don’t know why she claims she needs my opinion.”  But I called back to her, “Yes dear,” as I got up from my comfortable writing perch and went to the bathroom.

In the bathroom I found her in a skimpy bikini.

“How do you like this top with these bottoms?” she asked.

“Nice.”

“Am I too fat?”

“Define what ‘too fat’ is.”

“Am I fat?”

“Honest answer?”

“Yes.  No.  Yes,” she said, confused.

“You’re just right.”

“But do I look fat in this?”

“Darling, you look perfect in it.”

“Is the bottom too cheeky?” she asked as she turned around and jutted her butt out.

“No.  This would be too cheeky,” I said as I pulled the sides of the bikini bottom together to reveal most of her ass, followed by a spank.

“Mmmm, I like that,” she said.

“Me too.  You’re welcome,” I responded as I began to return to my writing.

“Watit!” she demanded, “I’m not done,” she said as she removed her bikini top and grabbed another one.  She put on the second top.  “What do you think of this?”

“I think it’s too big.”

“Too big?”

“Yeah, it covers too much of your tits.”

“Well I like it,” she said.

“I don’t know why you say you want my opinion on things when you never act on it.”

“Fifty something years and you don’t know by now that when a woman asks your opinion on how she looks, what she wants to hear is a compliment?”

“No,” I said.  “It only took fifteen seconds for you to tell me that.  Now I know.  Thank you.  And, by the way, you look great in that.”

“I look even better out of it.  Take me to the right beach and you’ll see just how good I can look out of it.”

It was an enticing prospect, but today was Thanksgiving and we had to be at our family-friend’s house by two for the big meal.  That left little time for an excursion to a nude beach.

We were both hungry and we ordered breakfast to our room.

Room service arrived and Lo answered in her skimpy bikini bottoms, no top.  She even bent over to rummage through her bag for a tip to give him.  My guess was that her little show was all the tip he needed.

After he left, Lo began to pout.  She had ordered a bagel with cream cheese.  “The bagel’s not toasty enough and the cream cheese doesn’t spread.”

“You know what I like about you?  You tell it like it is.  There’s no beating around the bush with you.”

“I don’t have any bush to beat,” she said, pulling back her bikini bottom and showing her shaved triangle.

“That is true.”

“But you can beat my puss.”

I was only wearing my cut-off sweatpants-shorts and a T-shirt.  As Lo sat in her chair, fondling herself, I grew noticeably hard in my shorts.

“Why do you resist, Daddy?” she asked.  “I can see you want me.”

“I do, but. . .”  Before I could finish the sentence, she put her legs up in the air.  One on the desk and the other on the bed, and she really went at it.

“Jerk off for me,” she commanded.

“Do you want me to fuck you or do you want me to jerk off?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

I pulled at my cock, hoping that I’d be getting some of her puss.  She teased me by pulling her pussy lips, by pulling her bikini bottoms into a micro-bikini with her pussy lips spilling over the thin thong.  “Should I go onto the beach like this, Daddy?” she asked.

That was too much for me.  I exploded in my shorts.

HH cums

“Nooooooo,” she called, seeing her hopes and dreams splattered all over my crotch.

“Sorry, Lo,” I said meekly.

“Damn it!” she said.  “First breakfast was a disappointment, now dessert.”

“You’ll just have to take matters into your own hands,” I said.

No sooner had I said it than she swung around in the chair and opened the laptop computer to look at her Tumblr.

“Were you fooling around with my Tumblr account?” she asked me.

“No,” I said as I was cleaning myself off.  “Why?”

There was no answer.

“Are you looking at all the messages from last night, er, earlier this morning?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that was all you,” I said.  “Don’t you remember?”

“I do now,” she said.  I couldn’t tell if she was just trying to make like she hadn’t had that much to drink or if she was being honest.  In either case, she began laughing.  “I’m pretty funny,” she said as she masturbated to the photos she saw.

She got up and went on the bed where she shut her eyes and plunged her puss with her fist.

When she was good and done, I asked her what she was thinking about.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Nothing?  Really?  You just came like a howling wildebeest to the thought of nothing?”

“I’m very Zen.”

“Lo,” I said, unamused.

“Well. . .”

“Out with it.”

“I was thinking of the woman from the pool yesterday.”

“Mrs. Silicon?”

“Yeah.  But in my mind. . . .  No I shouldn’t say it.”

“Say what?”

“If I say it, you might get the wrong idea.  You might think that I want it and I definitely don’t want it.”

“Want what?”

“In my mind she was young, blonde, and natural.  She was coming onto you, making me jealous.  You took her down to our hotel room.  I followed and then the soundtrack started playing, ‘Girl Crush.’”

“What?”

“You know, the song ‘Girl Crush,’ by Little Big Town,” she said as she put the video on.

 

I gotta girl crush, hate to admit it but
I gotta heart rush, ain’t slowin’ down
I got it real bad, want everything she has
That smile and that midnight laugh she’s giving you now

I wanna taste her lips, yeah, ʼcause they taste like you
I wanna drown myself in a bottle of her perfume
I want her long blonde hair, I want her magic touch
Yeah, ʼcause maybe then you’d want me just as much
I gotta girl crush, I gotta girl crush

I don’t get no sleep, I don’t get no peace
Thinkin’ about her under your bed sheets
The way that she’s whisperin’, the way that she’s pullin’ you in
Lord knows I’ve tried, I can’t get her off my mind

 

“I see,” I said after hearing the song.  “We could make that happen.”

She threw a pillow at me.

After she got dressed, I asked her what it was she wanted to do in the few hours we had before we were expected for the Thanksgiving meal.

“I didn’t tell you?”

“No, no you didn’t.  What?”

“We’re going fishing!” she said all excited.

“We’re doing what?”

“Well, boating or fishing or skinny-dipping.  Whatever we want, but my friend has a boat and. . .”

“You’re friend?  Who the hell do you know down here in Miami?”

“Darling, I have friends all over the world.”

“Tumblr friends?”

“When you’ve got assets like these,” she said, showing off her butt, “everyone wants to be your friend.”

“Good grief!”

“Anyhow, this friend of mine, or ours. . .”

Ours?!  I don’t even know him!”

“Whatever.  That doesn’t matter.  He knows you very well by now.  He’s got a boat and he promised to take us out for a little trip today!”

Soon we were at the marina and, after a few wrong turns, we finally found the boat and Lo’s ‘friend.’  His name was Alan and he seemed nice enough.  He was tall and lanky, he had some scruff on his face like he hadn’t shaved in three days.  He was tan and looked like he spent his days in the Florida sun.  I’d guess he was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight.  He had a small motorboat and we got aboard and Lo stripped down to her sexy bikini while Alan steered and made small talk with me.  Turns out, I was right about how he spent his days.  He worked at the marina part-time and as a waiter the rest of the time.

Lo and I had a few beers and we had a great view of the city from off the coast.  The sun, the gentle rocking of the boat, and the beer made me drowsy and I almost nodded off.  But we stopped the boat and we all decided to strip down to our birthday suits and take a refreshing dip.  Lo, who used to be on the swim team in high school, made an elegant dive into the deep blue sea.  I followed and then Alan.  I might add here that Alan’s schlong was quite long and I could see Lo looking up from where she was treading water, lusting after him as he pealed out of his tight shorts.  When I was next to her, I said, “Lo, you sure are a good Catholic.”

“What?” she asked, perplexed.

“As Jesus said, ‘Be fishers of men, not of fish.’  Looks like you landed a real big one.”

“Oh Daddy.  Do you think I didn’t know before how big he is?”

“I should have known.”

Then Alan jumped in.  The water was refreshing and it was liberating to be so far out, swimming the way God made us.   Lo was swam right up next to Alan.  “I’m getting tired of treading water,” she said quite falsely.  “Will you hold me a while?”

Alan gladly wrapped his arms around her torso and allowed his left hand to rest on her breast.  I watched from a slight distance.  I could see Lo gently guide his right hand down to her puss.  He was clearly rubbing her clit and soon she was cumming.  She loves to cum in the ocean.

After she came, she turned around, wrapping her legs around Alan’s hips, and she held onto him like an aquatic marsupial.  They began to make out, but it was awkward because, try as he might, Alan couldn’t keep both of them afloat while simultaneously trying to have intercourse with Lo.

Soon we climbed up the boat’s ladder, Lo first, of course, followed right after by Alan, and I brought up the rear.  We were all sitting in the boat, catching our breath and enjoying the invigorating breeze and sunlight for a while.  Then Lo went to the front to tan naked.  Alan and I put on our shorts and Alan began to drive the boat back towards the marina.  We passed a few other boats that waived and blew their horns at the sight of Lo.

About halfway back, Lo got up, grabbed another beer, and then asked Alan if he needed anything.  The way she said it, I knew exactly what she meant.  Alan said, “No, I’m good.”

But Lo got down on her knees, beer in one hand, and took his cock in her other hand and began stroking it over his shorts.

She looked up at him and said, “You sure?”

He looked down at her and said, “Well. . .” and that was enough for Lo to pull out his cock and take the whole, long pole deep in the back of her throat.  She sucked on it and then periodically took a sip of her cold beer.  Apparently the contrast between warm and cool was very pleasant for Alan and soon his froth was mixing with the head of the beer in Lo’s mouth.  She seemed gratified and proud of her accomplishment.

Alan zipped up and Lo put her bikini back on just before we were within sight of the folks on the dock.

We parked the boat and Lo and I said our goodbyes, apologizing for having to leave so early, but we did have a Thanksgiving dinner to attend.

As we were walking away, Lo, holding my hand, asked me, “Daddy, why didn’t you fuck me on the boat?”

“I enjoyed the show,” I said.

“But didn’t you want me?” she asked.

“I did, but honestly, with the beer, the sun, and after the swimming, I was completely exhausted.”

She rolled her eyes and replied, “You put the ‘old’ in ‘cuckold.’”

We were on our way back to our hotel when, along the way, we found a cozy little bar called “The Village Pump.”

Lola stopped to look in for a moment.  “Isn’t that what they called you in high school?” I asked, making a Lola joke.

“I’m rubbing off on you,” she said sardonically, followed by, “Hmmm, that sounds like fun!”

She grabbed my hand to pull me inside.  “But Lo,” I protested, “we have to get ready for Thanksgiving!”

“This place is so cute and the back patio spills out right onto the beach,” she protested.  “Just one drink.  I just want to experience it.”

“Fine,” I conceded as we walked in, to Lo’s delight.

We popped in, each ordered a drink, and we found our way to the beachfront seating in the way back of the bar.  Lo looked lovely in her sun hat and her bare feet.  She teased and tempted me as we sat there, suggesting all sorts of fun frolics with her feet and licks with her lips.  We downed our drinks, paid the tab and then were off to get ready for the Thanksgiving meal.

Back at the hotel, we changed into our casual-formal attire.  In Miami everything is casual.  We had to change quickly because due to Lo’s epicurean exploits, we were running behind schedule.  We got to our friends’ apartment fashionably late, but people were still having cocktails and eating some light hors-d’oeuvres.  Lo took a flute of champagne and quenched her thirst with it and then she grabbed me by the hand to pull me aside.

“Follow me,” she said, as she took me to the master bathroom.

Before I even had time to ask her “What?” she was bent over the marble sink in front of the large mirror.  “Mount me,” she instructed.  She slipped out of her red dress and pulled her tits out of her red bra.  I looked at the two of us in the mirror and penetrated her as she wished.

“What’s this all about?” I asked in a whisper.

A Quick Fuck Before the Thanksgiving Meal

“Shut up and fuck me,” she said as she pulled out her phone.  She put it on the counter and turned it on.  Over her shoulder I could see that she had just got an influx of pics from fans jackin’ it to her divine image.  Apparently, they excited her.  As she was scrolling through her happy holidays messages, I pulled out my phone and snapped a quick shot of the action – a sexy selfie of us mid-coitus.  She came.  I didn’t.  I was a bit too distracted.  But then, just as I was pulling out of her tight, wet slit, the clenching of her cunt on my cock was the little added stimulation I needed to put me over the edge.  I came, unexpectedly, all over her ass like icing on a cake.

Hastily, I cleaned her up and then she pulled up her panties and pulled down her skirt.

We hadn’t yet had the Thanksgiving meal, but I knew what I was thankful for.

Lo smiled mischievously as we mingled with the guests.  She was happy.  I was happy.  And our merry-making in Miami was brought to a very satisfying conclusion.

Pound

Pound

 

“Don’t hug her, hug me!” Lola demands, picking up my pillow and chucking it across the room.

“Jealous much?  It’s a pillow, not a mistress.”

“Yeah, well, hug me, damn it.”

I cuddle up with her naked body.  I grab her by the curves just under her bellybutton and just above her puss.  I squeeze it.

“Stop,” she says.

“I love this part of you.  It’s my favorite.”

“Is it a FUPA?”

“A what?”

“Fat Upper Pussy Area?”

“If you want to call it that.”

“No, I don’t want to call it that!”

“You brought it up.”

“Cause you’re kneading me like dough.”

“Cause I knead you.  Get it?  I ‘knead’ you?”

“Yeah, I get it.  I still don’t like it.”

“Why?”

“I put on a pound or two.”

“And, if you ask me, you could put on a pound or two more.  I find you incredibly sexy!”

“You find my fat incredibly sexy.”

“I find all of you incredibly sexy.  What difference does it make what turns me on?”

She reaches down to feel me between my legs.

“Also, your pecker here was protruding into me all night,” she says.

“I know,” I say, “I was hard all night.”

“Then why didn’t you fuck me?”

“Because you were asleep.”

“First, so?  And second, it would have been preferable to this –”  She demonstrates by rubbing her hands up and down my chest rapidly.

“I did not do that to you all night.”

“Wanna bet?”

“I was asleep.”

“Well, I have come to the conclusion that the only reason you have such strong biceps is from all of this motion you do all night long.”  She performs the curling motion of her arm going up and down my chest.

“You may be right,” I humbly admit.

She reaches down between my legs again.  “Feels like that must hurt.”

“Yeah,” I say.

“Well, what are you waiting for?  Fuck me.”

“Now?”

“Yeah.  Use me.  Go on.  Get your rocks off.  Get it all out of your system.”

She spreads her legs and reaches down with two hands and spreads something even more intimate.

“You look good.”

“Fuck me,” she commands.

I slide into her wet and waiting hole.  It didn’t take long before I pull out and, grabbing my cock, cum on her face.

“Feel better?” she asks, looking up at me.

“Much.”

I get up and clean up.  I eat breakfast and after breakfast I hear Lo calling me from the bedroom.  “Come!”

“Are you summoning me or giving me a real-time account of your activities?”

“Come!” is all I hear in response.  I follow the sounds and find her as I left her – naked and spread on the bed.

“Cuddle me, Daddy,” she says in her little-girl voice.

“Lo, I have to. . .”

“Just get into bed and hold me while I use my Hitachi.”

I climb into bed next to her, fully clothed, and hold her.  She puts the machine between her legs.

“I’m sorry you didn’t cum earlier,” I whisper to her.

“Oh, I did.”

“Really?  I didn’t even hear you.”  That was unusual.

“Yeah, well, I held it in because I was mad at you.  I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction.”

“Why?”

“Cause I was mad at you.”

“I can’t believe you came.  I was so fast.”

“It turns me on when you pound me furiously, using me to get your rocks off.  I like being your fuck-toy.”

“Mine and everyone else’s.”

“Now shut up.  I’m trying to masturbate.”

“You know what I was thinking about when I came?”  No answer.  All I hear is the soothing hum of her Hitachi.  “I was thinking about you and me going on our vacation next month, finding that nude beach and walking down it together.  All the guys would see you in your birthday-bathing-suit and you’d lead them on.  They’d follow us and, as you’re lying on your blanket, you’d encourage them to jack it over you.  There’d be about six of them and they’d be jackin’ it to your naked body.  All of them would cum on you.  Some two at a time, some taking turns.  You’d be covered in jizz and then you’d proudly get up and walk slowly across the sand into the water to wash off.”

She clicks the Magic Wand into high gear and says, “Shhhhh.  No talking.  No talking while masturbating.”  And then she cums and cums hard.  Her knees shoot up into the air and she squeezes her legs together tightly.

I hold her as her whole body convulses and she lets out a stream of expletives.  Then I get naked and push her knees apart.  “What are you doing?”

“I’m about to fuck you,” I say.

“But. . .”

“But what?”

“But I just came.”

“I know that.  That’s why I’m going to fuck you.”

She no longer resists.  I try to penetrate her, but find I can’t.  “Is that the right spot?” I ask.

“Yeah.  Why?”

“You’re so tight.  I thought it was your ass.”

“I’m tight because I stopped my squirting.  I didn’t want to squirt.  I just changed the sheets.”

“Well, let me in.”

“Push and push hard,” she says.

I do as she commands and cannot believe the resistance I’m met with.  Once I am fully enveloped by her, I say, “That’s better.”  It’s as if a switch had gone off and she went from snug and still to stretched and swashing.  She cums again, harder than before.  I pull out, dripping wet from her.

“Aren’t you going to cum?” she asks, perplexed.

“No, darling.  That was all for you.”

“Please,” she begs.  “Cum on me just like you described those guys on the beach cumming on me.  Stand over me, you letch, and jack off hard to my naked body.”

I stand up on the bed and grab my manhood and stroke it furiously.  Her natural lubricant is all I need.  Her fingers are pulling at her pussy lips as she says salacious things to me.  “You like?  You like my pussy?  You want it old man?  You think you could satisfy me?”

I see her looking up at me, enjoying what she sees.  She continues to talk dirty.

“You know what I was thinking about when I came?” she asks.  “I was thinking that I wish that there was a way to go to the local animal shelter and say, ‘Do you have any unneutered dogs that need to get their rocks off?’  They’d lead me to a special room where women can go to be mounted.  They’d let in one, two, ten dogs, depending on how much I want to volunteer.  I’d get naked and on my knees and. . .”

Before her words form images in my mind, I cum like rain down on her tits, her chest, her neck, her face.  Just the sound of her words are enough.

“That’s it,” she says as her hand reaches up to touch my balls, feeling them as I ejaculate.  “That’s it.  Unload.  Feel better?  Good dog.  Now get back to the pound where you belong.”

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