Protected: A Linguistically Mysterious Voyage into the Unknown

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Protected: Slut on the Slopes

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A Chance Encounter with a Unicorn

[Guest Post by Lola’s new friends – SnowCplCo]

SnowCpleCo

We were driving across the country for the holidays and, as dusk was descending and T was growing tired, we pulled into the first motel on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere that we found.  I was walking the two dogs, who were eager to get out after so long in the back seat, while hubby was unloading bags.  The dogs suddenly stopped and directed my attention toward an attractive brunette walking in a short black dress and turquoise heels.  Mysteriously, the dogs were as captivated by her as I was.  This petite, yet confident “girl next door” walked up to me and asked if it was ok to pet the dogs.  Though they were stir-crazy from the drive, they are friendly and I said that they’d love it.  She leaned over to pet them and I could see right down the open neckline of her dress.  She had nice tits.  No bra.  Young.  Perky.  I was getting wet as I stood there, gawking at her.  I tried making small talk.  She crouched down to continue petting the dogs, as I stood over her.  It was impossible to not see down her dress from that angle.

As we were chatting, she saw hubby grab a bottle of bubbly and bourbon from the car. She said “Oh, I’m so ready for glass of wine after driving all day.”

I responded, “Wine time never comes quick enough on road trips.”  We kept talking for a bit and she asked if we would mind if she joined us for a glass because she hadn’t talked to anyone all day.  I said, “Sure, but it has to be in our room due to the dogs.”

She was game and we made our introductions.  She introduced herself as Lola. We agreed to meet about an hour later. I told hubby when I got back to the room and he said, “There goes our playtime then.”  He had been horny and wanting me the entire drive.

I responded with, “She’s not going to be here all night.  We’ll still get to play.  Promise.”

Lola came over and we sat around the small room and chatted with the conversation going all over the place.  A few glasses into it, she said that she better get back to her room.  It was clear she was merely being polite.  To my surprise and arousing a bit of jealousy that I didn’t even know I had, hubby asked her to stay for one more glass.  She agreed, but said, “Before I have any more, I have a little work to do.  Do you mind if I go grab my laptop?”

“Not at all,” said T.

A minute later she popped back into our room and sat at the tiny desk.

“What kinda work are you doing?” asked T.

“Just updating our blog.”

Hubby, trying desperately to turn the friendly chatter into a sexy seduction, said in a joking way, “What, like your OnlyFans page?”

She looked over at him, smirking, and said “Something like that.”

Hubby said back to Lola, “I bet a pretty, young, flirtatious girl like you makes a thousand dollars a day on the internet.”

“Hardly,” laughed Lola.  “I do it just for fun, actually.”

“Wait,” I said, “you mean he’s right?!  You do have an OnlyFans page?”

Lo laughed even more and said, “Well, no, not OnlyFans.  Just a sex blog that my man and I run.”

“Oh!” said hubby, “I can’t believe it!  I’ve been waiting all day to get to work on content with her for ours page!”

Lola looked very surprised and said “Really! You two don’t seem like the type!”

“I could say the same about you,” I said.

We talked a little more about it before I suggested, “I’ll show you my page if you show me yours?”

That was all it took for T.  He had his laptop out so quick!  We looked at each other’s pages and hers was incredible!  We go by Snow CoupleCO and she seemed to like what she saw of us too.  I then asked if she wanted help making content and winked at hubby.  She paused a bit and looked at us.  “Really?”

“Yeah, it could be fun.”

“OK, but no photos.”  She was concerned about remaining anonymous.

“Deal.”

“I’m going to freshen up,” she said, “It’s been a long drive today.”

“OK.  See you back here soon.”  I felt butterflies in my stomach, I was so excited.  While she was out showering and, I think, shaving herself smooth, I took a quick shower as well.  When I came out, I found hubby jacking off to Lo’s photos.  I snapped a couple of pics but told him, “Keep it hard, Mr. Roadtrip McLovin!”

Mr. T – Roadtrip McLovin

When Lola came back, gone was the girl next door and here stood a pro porn star!  You would never recognize her.  “You really are ‘the nympho next door!’” I said.

Lo was wearing a sheer white top that reminded me of boudoir wedding photos I had seen once.  But adorning her neck was a black leather collar, like a dog’s collar, that said “SLUT” in diamond studs.  She wore a short black skirt that barely covered the bottom of her ass and black leather boots to match.

Lo Looking Like a Slutty Bride

“Before we get to playing, there’s a dive bar attached to this rundown motel.  How about the three of us go in there and see what happens?”

I was very game, but I had a better idea in mind.

“I just caught my husband masturbating to your photos,” I said.  A sparkle of vanity flashed in Lo’s eyes as she looked first at my hubby’s face and then at his crotch.  “He must be hard-up for you,” I continued.  Lo’s tongue ran across her teeth as she looked desirously at him.  “Do you think you could help him out before we go there?”

“Help him out, how?” she asked.

“Get on your knees,” I commanded.

She obeyed immediately.  I reached over and pulled out T’s bulging hard cock from his pants.  I held it in my hand.  “There you go, hun,” I said to him.  “Do it.  Cum on her face.”

He took control of his cock and stroked fast.  He looked at me, looked at Lo longing for his dick in her mouth.  He looked at me again.  He looked down at Lo and came on her face.  It was the fastest I’ve seen him cum in ages!

Lo’s cheeks and chin were dripping with his cum.  I had to hold the dogs back to keep them from licking her clean.

“OK, now we can go.”

“You want me to go like this?”

“Exactly.”

“OK, but let’s make it more interesting.  My man and I play a little game like this a lot.  You walk in first.  Then I’ll walk in and join you.  T walks in last and has to sit away from us.  Let’s see who has the courage to pick us up.”

I was giddy with excitement.

We walked down the motel line to the bar at the end.  It was a sleepy little bar in the middle of nowhere that mostly accommodated travelers and lonely locals.

Lo walked in first looking like a used prostitute.  I followed, looking like a lonely housewife desperate for action.  I wore my tight jeans shorts, cowboy boots, and a blouse unbuttoned nearly to my navel.  No bra.

The few folks inside noticed our appearance right away.  I ordered a beer across the bar from Lola, who had ordered some sort of cocktail.

I then made my way over to her and pretended like we were meeting for the first time – which we had, only about two hours earlier.

A couple of middle-aged guys approached us and I noticed my husband walk into the bar.  No one else, except maybe Lola, noticed him.

Both the guys who were talking to us had wedding bands on.

Eventually, in the dimness of the bar, one of the guys noticed the sheen on Lo’s face from my husband’s cum.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Beauty cream,” she said with a smile.

I leaned in and licked it, seductively, off of her face before making out with her.

The two guys were excited beyond belief.  I reached back with one hand and grabbed the cock of the guy sitting next to me.

Suddenly the grumpy old bartender told us to take it outside.  This wasn’t a brothel!

“You want to join us?” I asked the men.

They sure did!

Lo and I walked with them back to the room and the four of us went in.

It was really crowded in there now with the two dogs.

Lo and I stripped each other and started making out on the bed as the guys watched.

“Aren’t you going to join us?” asked Lo in a little girl sort of voice.

They guys began taking their clothes off, embarrassed to be seeing each other naked.

Just as they were about to approach us on the bed, T barged into the room and, in a performance worthy of an Oscar, he yelled, “What the hell are you doing?!”

The guys were shocked and quickly scrambled to put on their clothes.  In their haste, I think they might have even put on the other’s clothes by accident.

They got out of the room quick and we all had a laugh.

Lo began to work my clit ring and lips while sliding her tongue in and out.  I then felt her fingers entering me.  She had the perfect rhythm and I really began getting wet, feeling my juices drip down my ass.  Lola raised up my hips, smiled, and slid a finger in my ass.  I moaned, looking over at hubby, who now had his cock in his hand.  He was moderately hard, since he had cum so recently.  I grabbed Lo’s hips and slid her up to my face.  Instantly, she began grinding on my tongue.

We played pretty hard for a while before she whispered, “Can we invite your hubby?” Of course, I wasn’t going to say no.  So she lifted up her her face and, dripping with my cum now, told him, “Take the rest of your clothes off and get over here.”  We both went down on him while he was trying to keep the dogs off of us.  We took turns playing with him as he went from my ass to Lola’s mouth and back again and again.  Eventually, when Lola convinced me to do the same, he came, shooting a huge load in her ass before I cleaned him off with my mouth.  He poured us drinks and we laid on the bed with her in the middle petting each other.

. . .

Lo stood up and cum dripped down her inner thigh onto the cheap motel room carpeting.  She grabbed a glass of the bubbly to quench her thirst and picked up her clothes.

“I’ll let you two get some good sleep tonight.  Thanks for a fun time,” she said as she walked out into the parking lot stark naked.  We watched her saunter to her room and disappear inside.

I’m not sure if I was dreaming or not, but a few hours later I woke to the blood curdling sounds of what sounded like a murder, but, after close listening for a few moments, I realized, it was Lo’s screaming orgasm.

The next morning she continued on the road east as we continued west.  When we got home, first thing we did was order a copy of Match, Cinder & Spark.  We now get off to it nightly, fondly remembering our time with Lola Down – just your average nympho next door.

 

Snow getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark

 

 

Snow Getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark

Snow Getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark

Snow Getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark

Snow Getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark

Snow Getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark

an extra bonus Christmas gift from Snow

Finding Lola – Three Covid Stories

Covid Quarantine had a way of messing with our mental life.  It has been well documented that people reported having more intense dreams during the first lonely months of quarantine.  Since then, many people have experienced a strange time distortion when attempting to recall any sort of chronology.  Things basically fall into B.C. (“Before Covid”) and whatever it is that we’re living through now.  But placing events exactly on a timeline post-Covid is a bit wonky.

For us, Covid was a time when we made a lot of new friends virtually.  In order to help people through the forced “celibacy” of the quarantine (both single people and the people like us who are non-monogamous and so had to curtail their outside playtime) we started up our free books program where we sent a complimentary copy of Match, Cinder & Spark to friends, fans, and avid readers in exchange for their sending back to us a sexy photo of them with the book.  That was so much fun that we’ve continued it on a limited basis.  (Please request one via email if you’re interested.)

We heard from a lot of you out there in Lolaland and we continue to receive sexy missives from our beloved kinkster community.

This week we are going to feature three short stories sent to us by new and old friends.  Diving into Lola’s Letter Box, we are pleased to bring you a story about a single college student, a married couple, and sisters who learned a lot about each other in lockdown.

The first comes from Melissa, a college student who, like Grace, was stuck at home with her parents in the spring of 2020.  “At the time, it was the middle of my freshman year.  I’m a shy introvert, an voracious reader, a bookish nerd,” she says.

I also am a closeted nymphomaniac.  With limited tolerance for social interactions, I found that it was just easier to get off on my own.  In fact, that’s how I found your blog.  I was concerned about my internet porn binging and, by doing a search to find some way out of it, I came across Erica Garza’s book, Getting Off.  And not only did I come across it, I came to it and got off even more!  I couldn’t get off enough and so I did a deep dive (into my pussy and on the internet) until I found your post about ‘Her Porn Addiction’ and everything I read, except for Lo’s confidence and extroverted personality, sounded very familiar to me.

After that, she was hooked.  She became a regular reader of the blog for a while, but she was hungry for more.  Similar to Grace, she was afraid of ordering one of the books and having it arrive at her house, only for someone in her family to discover it and expose her.  So, she too found a way to get off during those isolating times though other means.  “I purchased all five volumes of Match, Cinder & Spark on audiobook and masturbated every night to the voice of Jupiter Grant reading the sexy stories while simultaneously scrolling through the photos of Lola on the blog.”

As we all remember so well, getting out during Covid Quarantine, even just to do shopping or go for a drive, was a big deal.  Melissa relayed that her favorite sexy thing to do was to up the stakes and take risks by getting in the car and playing the audiobook on the speakers while wearing a skirt with no panties and finger-fuck herself or dildo while driving.

Lying down in bed, masturbating naked was fine, but it didn’t have the interaction I craved.  I wanted to be around people.  Also, there’s a difference between hearing Jupiter Grant’s voice through the earbuds and hearing her through the car’s speakers.  Every chance I got, I borrowed my mom’s car and went for a drive.  Listening to the stories was like an education – I learned about some great books I should read and I learned about sex.  Win-win!  But as the months got warmer, I would drive around with the windows down.  One day I pulled up to a stoplight just as Lola was describing being mounted and pounded, used and abused, in the story ‘Pound.’  I was on the verge of cumming when I noticed the guy in the car next to me had his windows down as well and he heard everything that was making me so wet.  He gave me an intense, sidelong glance.  I just looked at him, blushed, and tried to shut off the radio, but I suddenly felt an orgasm violently taking over my body as I reached for the button.  No use.  The light turned green.  Neither of us moved.  I came.  He watched.  It was hot!

From Melissa’s miles and miles of masturbation, we now turn to our good friends Jane and Andrew.  You will recall these newlyweds discovered their kinks on their honeymoon when it was revealed that Jane gets off to erotic stories (like Match, Cinder & Spark) and Andrew likes to wear women’s panties and takes delight in his wife locking his chastity cage while she mercilessly masturbates in front of him as a form of titillating torture.

This week they sent us a photo tryptic of sorts showing how they have fun.  She hops in the tub, takes a long, relaxing bath, shaves her twat clean and smooth, and then cuddles up with a good book.  In this case it happens to be Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume IV: Sexy Shorts.  When she is good and gushing, she invites in Andrew.  He knows by now that during her sexy-time he is to be locked and loaded.  She then reads aloud the passages that have her groin grinding.  If he is lucky, she might fondle and cup his genitalia, but he is not allowed any greater gratification than that.  Yet she is free to dive into her toy drawer and pull out all the necessary accessories for her maximal self-care.  She indulges freely in the pleasures of the flesh while denying him the release he desires.

Jane and Andrew reading Match, Cinder & Spark

As she was reading the stories, she asked Andrew, “What would you think if I took many male lovers and had them fuck me in front of you?”

“Like Lola does?”

“Precisely.”

“I don’t know if I’d be able to prevent ejaculating, even in my cage.”

“How would you like it if our entire marriage you were never allowed to fuck me – only watch – as I was banged by so many men on a regular basis?”
“You would make me the happiest husband on the planet!”

“Then learned Leo was wrong – not all happy marriages are alike.  Perhaps each happy marriage is happy in its own way.”

“I know ours is.”

For Your Entertainment

 

Our third story is from Nicci and her sister Malory.

[Abridged.  The unabridged version you can find here.]

Just before the lockdown went into effect, Nicci had traveled from her hometown of Charlotte to visit her sister Malory in Tampa.  Everything was going fine until the day the CDC announced that no one should be flying anywhere.  That nixed Nicci’s return flight.  As with everyone else, her job shut down and then went remote, as did Malory’s.  The two of them were cooped up in Malory’s small, one bedroom, one bathroom apartment with only Malory’s black lab, Lucky, for company.  This made for rather cramped living space.  As Nicci tells it, the couch was too small for either of them to sleep on, so they bunked up in the bed.  When either of them needed “self-care” time, one sister had to ask the other sister for some “personal space” to “take care of business.”  On more than one occasion, stuck in bed together at night, one or the other would begin fapping.  Two twenty-something women isolated from the rest of the world needed an escape from the ever more grim news inundating them each day.

But they weren’t the only ones in need of relief.  Lucky was a rescue dog and by the time Malory had adopted him, he was too old to be neutered.  He was “intact,” as they say.  And, as such, he too needed to get off – on the couch, on the floor, on Nicci’s or Malory’s leg.

According to Nicci, one evening the two of them joined in a Zoom happy-hour with some mutual friends.  Both of them had a couple of strong margaritas and after the happy-hour was over, they continued to drink and reminisce about high school days.  Malory brought up one of their girlfriends about whom it was rumored that she had regular sex with her dog.  Nicci denied the rumor as urban legend and they both shared a laugh about it.  That led to Nicci asking Malory if she had ever seen the movie Sleeping Dogs Lie.  “It’s a terrible romcom about a woman who. . .”

“No, don’t even!”

“I kid you not!”

“What kind of romcom is that?”

The two of them ended up watching it, or at least trying to.  Nicci was right, it was terrible.

Sleeping Dogs Lie

“If I hear another accordion, it will be too soon!” said Malory.

“I know!  That soundtrack was the worst.  Like they were some French film or something.  And it manages to be cringeworthy in every way and insult just about everyone.”

“Not to mention, the moral of the story – if you can call it that.  It’s best to lie – to your spouse, family, coworkers, and friends.”

They loved hatewatching it.  Nicci added, “And the entire premise of the film – that a lonely, single college woman would give a blowjob to her dog.”

“I know, right?  I mean, it’s so unbelievable.  If I was that lonely, I wouldn’t blow him, I’d have him fuck me.”

Suddenly Nicci stopped laughing and looked very seriously at her sister.  “What?  You wouldn’t, would you?”

Malory mysteriously said, “Who says I haven’t?”

“Come on!  Stop joking.  Really?”

“Ew!” screeched Malory, dramatically, “I take him out twice a day and clean up his shit after him.  Are you kidding me?  No.”

Sure enough, just as they were having this conversation, Lucky went at it again on the rug.

“Whew,” said Nikki, laughing nervously.  “You had me worried for a minute.”

Malory laughed and, looking at Lucky, said, “If I had been fucking him, I don’t think he’d be doing that like three times a day.”

“You should have named him Horny, not Lucky,” said Nicci.

“Who are we kidding?  We’re all fucking horny and none of us are going to get lucky anytime soon,” replied Malory.

That conversation and movie was enough to set the wheels in motion for both of them.  Who knows, maybe Lucky had this arrangement in mind all the while and that’s why he was constantly causing friction on the carpet.

Before long. . . .

When Nicci would go out to do the grocery shopping or Malory would go for a run in the afternoon or morning, whomever was at home was busy with. . . .

But when Malory went out for a jog one afternoon only to have the sky open up and drench her in a downpour so that she returned to the apartment early, she found her sister dripping wet as well, but not from the weather. . . .  Nicci looked up at Malory with a swirling combination of satisfaction, shame, and helplessness.

. . .

This cozy arrangement continued for about two or three months, until Nicci felt safe enough to return home.  When that fateful day came, she and her sister made an unspoken pact never to so much as mention this intense ménage à trois again.

Nicci wrote to us to say, “Though we never, ever talk about what happened between the three of us in those early months of the pandemic, since then I have found (and shared with Mal) your blog.  (You can guess what I was searching for.)  I didn’t tell her why I was sharing it with her, but I’m sure she figured it out.  Thank you for your honesty, candor, and sexiness!”

Sisters at the beach with Lucky

Deferred Desire

Jane and Andrew

 

Jane and Andrew had just taken their wedding vows.  They celebrated with their friends and family.  They were both in their forties when they finally tied the knot.  After many failed relationships in the past for each of them, they were pleased to finally find each other.  They prided themselves on the fact that the cornerstone of their relationship was honesty.  They loved each other, they admired each other, and they desired each other.

But in the hotel on the night of their wedding, they discovered something about each other neither of them expected.

Andrew was eager to get Jane out of her white gown and get into her wet pussy.  Jane, you see, had been deferring the consummation of their love saying that, though not religious, she wished to wait until they were married before engaging in coitus.  Now that the fateful night had come, Andrew’s desire for his bride had reached its pinnacle.

He slowly unzipped the back of the dress and helped Jane out of it with care.  She wore a white satin bra, white panties, and lacey white thigh-high nylon stockings.  Nearly naked, she sat on the couch and pulled Andrew towards her.  He had already removed his tuxedo jacket, tie, and shirt.  As he stood in front of Jane, he removed his t-shirt.  She had already seen him topless before, but the smoothness of his chest, which lacked any hair, struck her as unusually feminine.  But then she unbuttoned the button on his tuxedo slacks and unzipped the fly, pulling the pants down past his pelvis.  She was shocked at what she saw!

Instead of boxers or tighty-whities, he was wearing a transparent, satin black thong!  His cock was pressed up against the see-through material, barely contained by the tiny triangular fabric, stretching it to almost the breaking point.

“Oh wow!” she said as her face was inches away from the contained cock.  She had never seen him nude before.  “Are these yours?”

“Whose else would they be?”

“Mine,” she said.

He laughed and said, “No, I didn’t sneak into your panty drawer.”

“So you went to the store to buy these special?”

“These and a lot more like them.”

“I see.”

She slid the pants all the way down to his ankles, revealing a second surprise.  He wasn’t wearing black socks, as she assumed.  He was wearing sheer lacey black thigh-high nylon stockings, almost identical to hers.  In their nylons, they were like yin and yang.

“Well, well, well,” she said, “what is this all about?”

“Do you like?” he asked her nervously.

“I do.  Just about anything kinky gets me wet,” she said seductively.

He was thrilled.  He had taken a real chance by dressing up like this under his wedding tux, but he had to know how she’d feel about his kinks.  All was going to plan.  He had suspected it would, but out of fear of rejection, ridicule, or even worse, indifference, he had not revealed this side of himself to her ever before.

“Shall you be Mistress’s little Sub-Boy?”

This question from her took him aback.  He had not thought this far along in the chess game.

“I am Mistress’s little Sub,” he said, furtively, fearful of the wrong answer.

“Go fetch Mistress’s bag,” she said to him.  He brought to her the large weekender bag she had in addition to her suitcase.

She reached in.  He had no idea what was next.  Out of the bag she pulled a paperback book – Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume IV: Sexy Shorts.  It had a drawing of a woman in tight blue shorts, bent over on the cover.

“Mistress likes to read,” she said.  “Make Mistress an ottoman so Mistress can put her feet up.”

He complied by getting on his knees on the floor and turning himself into a stool for her feet.  She sat in the comfortable chair and read while he dutifully demeaned himself to her will.  However, time went by and he began to wonder if any relief to the raging erection he had at the mere touch of her silken-clad feet was to come.

“Mistress,” he whimpered.

“Yes little Sub?”

“May I please smell your pussy?”

“Yes little Sub.”

She spread her legs and allowed him a good whiff of her cunt through her white satin panties.

“Mistress,” he asked again.

“Yes little Sub?”

“May I please kiss your ass?”

“Yes little Sub,” she said, turning over in her chair.

He kissed her ass.

“That is all,” she insisted, putting an end to his probing tongue.  “Mistress wishes to recline on the couch,” she added.  “Stand by me, little Sub, and allow me to amuse myself with your member while I continue reading my book.”

“Yes, Mistress,” replied Andrew, standing at attention, allowing himself to be used and fondled as plaything of her whim.

“Little Sub,” she said eventually.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Lick my clit.”

“Mistress?” he asked, taken aback by the request.

“You heard me.  Get on your knees and lick my clit as I read.  I have come to a particularly puissant passage and I wish to be stimulated orally.”

She spread her legs and allowed him to pull her panties to the side far enough for his mouth to make contact.  All the while she kept reading her book.

He got down between his mistress’s legs and began to lick politely, respectfully.

“Fuck my cunt with your tongue, damn it!  Make me cum.  Now!” she demanded.

He licked, sucked, flicked, and fucked her orally as best he could.

“Yes, that’s it – make your mistress moan!”

She came, and her cunt drizzled its joyful juices on the white leather couch causing a puddle under her ass.

“Mistress?” he asked once he had emerged from her love-spot.

“Yes little Sub?” she asked breathily.

“Will we ever consummate our love?”

“Little Sub, you have that long protrusion in your panties and I think that as punishment for that, you shall never be able to use it.”

Andrew’s erection grew powerfully in his panties as he contemplated the thought of ever desiring his wife, never satisfying her, never releasing his pent-up phallic powers.

She got up to pee and while she did, Andrew grabbed the book that was lying open to the page Jane had been reading.  It was a story called “Pound” and it had some very taboo imagery in it.

“What are you doing?” Jane demanded when she returned.

“Uh, um, reading Mistress.”

“Without permission?”

“I’m sorry, Mistress.”

She got on the couch across from him and used her feet to tease his cock as he read.

“Is this the story that brought you to an orgasm?” he asked.

“And if it is?” she replied superciliously.

“Well, then I suppose there are more kinks about you that I have yet to discover.”

“Isn’t that what love is all about – the slow reveal of each other’s depravity?”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“You would if you read more about H.H. and Lola.”

“Am I allowed to cum to her, or them?”

“Absolutely not!”

“But you are?” he asked.

“Mistress’s needs are not for you.  Mistress keeps her cunt off limits.  All her erotic experience is in the mind, in words, in the denial of the dissipation of your desire.  I shall keep you around as my obedient canine.  You shall obey your Mistress and never give in to the aching needs between your hind quarters.  You shall ever remain in a state of perpetual penile priapism.”

Andrew could not have found a better match for his masochistic longings for a sadistic matriarch to marry.

Smalltown Strumpet – Part IV – Gatekeeper

[Continued from Smalltown Strumpet Part III – Flaming Lips]

In my haste to leave the library the previous day, I had not realized that I accidentally left with my pile of research material a lone copy of Match, Cinder & Spark there among the various historical texts.

And I didn’t realize it until. . . well, let me pick up where I left off.

It was Sunday and it was hot!  Hot and humid.  There was no air conditioning in this country house and we woke up in sopping sheets.  Now, granted, some of that moisture may have been from the ice-play the night before.  Some of it may have been from whatever antics Lo got up to while I was sleeping – slapping her pussy, masturbating to who-knows-what, and squirting.  I have no recollection of anything since it was a king-size bed and I slept like the dead.

All I know is I woke to a sticky, tropical atmosphere and I did not like it.

Lo was asleep, naked, next to me – her fine, round ass in a revelatory and prominent position.

Hot Lola on a hot night

I made some coffee and wondered what the hell we would do in this oppressive heat.

Lo eventually got up and sauntered through the house naked.

“Daddy,” she complained, “I can’t take anything else off to get cool.”

“You could fill up on ice again,” I joked.

“How can you possibly drink that hot coffee in this?”

“I need something to get me up.”

“Doesn’t this do it for you?” she asked, posing seductively.

Would this get you up in the morning?

“That only gets up one appendage and one appetite.”

“Well, it should stimulate your entire being.”

Suddenly we heard a knock.

“What was that?” I asked.

Lo shrugged her shoulders.

Another knock.

“The door?” I asked out loud, walking over to the rarely used front door.  Lo followed, naked, filled with curiosity.

I opened the door a crack.  A man in his late twenties or early thirties stood on the front steps.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

I saw his eyes dart over my shoulder and attempt to catch a glimpse of my nymph standing in the living room’s shadows and morning light.

“Hi,” he said genially, “I’m Tom.  I live across the way, over yonder.”  He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.

“Yeah?” I asked, a bit defensive.

“Well, it’s a hot day and we have a pool in the backyard.  I was just wondering if you wanted to use it.”

“That’s awfully nice of you, Tom,” I began to say, when Lo ran up behind me and, edging her way next to me, exposing her entire self to Tom and the front yard and the street beyond, she interrupted and said, “That sounds great!  We’ll be over in about an hour.”

“Sure thing ma’am.  Just walk around the side and let yourself in.”

I closed the door and turned to Lo, who had a very contrite look on her face.

“Lola, do you really think that we are going over there?”

“Yes.  Why not, Daddy?”

“You’re going to put on your little dental floss bikini and tan and swim with a bunch of redneck hillbillies?”

She nodded her head up-and-down rapidly.

“It’s hot,” she said, “and I want to get wet.”

After breakfast we walked across the country road – Lo wearing almost nothing at all – and went around the side of the house.  There was a gate around the backyard.

“Why do you think they need a gate in these rural parts?” asked Lo.

“It’s the law,” I said.  “If you have a pool, you have to gate it in to make sure no little kids accidentally get in, fall in the pool, and drown.”

“Ah, I get it.”

We walked into the enclosed backyard.  By the looks of the front of the house, I didn’t expect much, but I was pleasantly surprised by the inground pool and the upkeep of the grounds.

There were five guys, I’d say all in their twenties, standing around, practically drooling when they saw Lo in her bikini.  Did I mention that she literally stopped traffic as we crossed the street?

“Hiya!” called Lo, waiving.

“Hi,” they almost grunted back.

“Got a nice cold beverage for a thirsty girl?” she asked.  “Make sure it has a straw for me to suck.”

One of the men ran inside and got her something in a tall glass.

“Why you boys so over-dressed?” she asked.  They were in shorts and t-shirts.

“What?”

“Get naked,” she said plainly.

They did as she said.  They got right down to nothing, revealing the pale white areas that were exact replicas on their skin of the shorts and t-shirts they had just removed.

Their junk hung out and Lo liked what she saw.

She lay down in a lounge chair and spread her legs, hanging them over the sides.

“Isn’t anyone going to offer to apply sunscreen?” she asked, holding out the bottle.

The five guys sprang to it, each taking some lotion and applying it to a limb, leaving one to apply it to Lo’s neck and shoulders.  His cock was very close to Lo’s face.

During this whole circus routine with the trained bears, I just stood in the shade of a large oak by the side of the pool.  No one even questioned me with a “How you doing?” or “Can I get you anything?”

When Lo was good and greased up, she lay back as the nude men stood around her.

“Well, you just going to stand there, or are you going to get to wanking?”

“What?” asked one of them, not comprehending.

“Jerk off!  Put your puds in your palms and start stroking.”

Lo lay back while they formed a circle-jerk for her.  That’s just what she enjoys – being the center of attention, the object of affection, the target of ejaculation.

She pressed her tits together in the tiny bikini top.

She allowed first one then the other nipple to peek out of its tight cup.

She pulled up the thin thong between her legs, allowing her meaty pussy to protrude on either side of the taught string.  Her flappy folds fell from between her legs, yet her wet hole was obscured by the itty-bitty material nestled up in her nook.

She rolled over and pulled the back of her bikini bottom up high, revealing just about all of her balloon knot, but the spot itself.

Then the gentle tributes began to rain down on her like warm droplets and streams of liquified love.

First one, then two, then all five of the guys were releasing their pent-up power onto her soft and supple skin.  She was eager to see it happen in its full glory of the morning sun and she swooped over on her back and caught the remaining orgasmic rush with her tum and tits.

When they were done, she gracefully sat up, licked her lips, walked across the lawn to the pool, and slowly descended into the cool blue water.  The pearly patina of the libation bearers floated on the surface of the water, gradually spreading further and further out across the large pool.

“Aren’t you guys going to come in?”

They all dove in right quick.  They swam around and close to Lola like she was a rarely seen sea animal who, against impossible odds, was in captivity and available for inspection.

“Aren’t you going to come in, HH?” called Lo from the side of the pool.  “It’s warm and wet,” she said quite unambiguously.

“I’ll wait till it’s not quite so crowded,” I responded wryly.

“Suit yourself.”

“More than I can say your suiters have on!”

“Huh?  Oh.  Funny,” she said, sticking out her tongue and swimming away.

After some frolics in the water, they all got out and someone refreshed Lo’s drink.  They sat around naked as the day they were born – except Lo.  Ain’t that a twist?

Somebody asked, “Lo, why don’t you take your clothes off?”

“Clothes?  Am I wearing clothes?” she asked with her Scarlett voice.  Her affectation left zero impression on her audience.

“You sure are.”

“Well, boys, the way I see it, men just want to see only about four to six inches of a woman’s body,” she said, sliding her finger over the skimpy string between her legs, “but a woman is much more than these six inches.”

“You got that right,” said one of the guys.  When we all looked towards him to see what he meant by that, he grew silent, apparently lacking comprehension of his own comment.

One of the guys suggested a two-hand-touch football game.

“Sure,” said Lo, “I’ll be goalie.  I’m good at goaltending.”

“First of all,” I said, setting her straight, “football doesn’t have a goalkeeper.  And second of all, you’ve let a lot of balls in your goal, from what I can tell.”

“No balls!  Some logs or sluggers, or whatever you call them.”

“Call what – baseball bats?”

“Yeah!”

“Again, wrong sport.”

“I think you just don’t know what game I’m playing.”

Touché!” I called.

The guys picked up a football and gave it to Lola.  They explained the game and said that she could be on whichever side she wanted.

Lo certainly enjoyed touching those guys with her two hands.  It took some more explaining that, though the game is called “two-hand-touch,” that doesn’t mean that Lo’s team gets points every time she touches a man on the other team with both hands.  She looked very dismayed at her misunderstanding.

We played a little more and at one point Lo was the quarter back.  The other team blitzed and the guy who was guarding Lola reached up and grabbed her tits with his two hands as soon as she said “Hike.”

“Hey!” she called.

“What?  You’re down.”

“I know I’m Down, but who said to stop?  Try Lo Down,” she said, moving one of his hands to her crotch.

Later Lo was covering one of their receivers and, as the ball was thrown to him, she grabbed him by his dong.

“That’s pass interference!” he cried out after he missed the ball.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“It’s a penalty.”

“Punish me!” she said, turning tail and sticking out her bum for a spanking.

Eventually we got hot again and we all ended up in the pool this time.

“Wasn’t I a great gatekeeper?” she asked me.

“Gatekeeper?  I told you Lo, there’s no goalkeeping or goaltending in football.”

“I wasn’t talking about football, I mean not one of these guys has fucked me yet.  I’ve been gatekeeping.”

“You want praise for that?  It’s COVID times.  You know that.”

“Yes, Daddy, praise me.”

“Good girl,” I said with sarcasm, and she rubbed her wet, dark hair up against me like a loving kitten.

But soon our fun and games came to a halt because we heard what sounded like a mob outside.

We got out of the pool and dressed and saw a number of women with signs.  It looked like they were picketing the house across the street – the house where Lo and I had been staying.

Turns out that the previous day, when I was at the library and got called away in a hurry by Lo, and I accidentally left my copy of Match, Cinder & Spark behind with the other library books, someone found it.  I’m not sure exactly how it went down, but my guess is this person who found it read a little of it, but then he or she put it on the small table in the entryway of the library, and displayed it with the other “new acquisitions” books.  So, there it sat, prominently. Who knows how many people saw it, picked it up, read it?  But eventually it caught the attention of some busy-body do-gooder who promptly called a meeting of like-minded people and, after church on this particular Sunday morning, they organized a protest against Lola Down.  Word had spread through the town as to where we were staying and so women showed up in droves to protest the smalltown strumpet!

Anti-Lola

Apparently, they were against pornography, but not just that, they were against the use of “perfect women” in pornography.  One housewife displayed her sign calling for banning our books in the libraries, but she was protesting in the buff.  I guess she was trying to make a confused point about “real bodies.”

Pro-Lo

To my surprise, however, there was a counter-protest of women in support of Lola.  They were certainly in the minority, but they praised Lola as the champion of fifth-wave feminism.

It was a Lo Down showdown and we were caught in the middle.  The only fortunate thing was that no one who had come out to protest knew that we were across the street from the house where they were congregated.

The police showed up, the local news showed up, even the county judge showed up!  In a small town like this, any commotion creates a snowball effect.  The crowd was growing through curiosity and also people eager to see tits.

Lola on the News

“What are we going to do?” asked Lo, looking out the front window.  “Oh shit!” she said.

“What?” asked one of the guys.

“That huge guy, the bouncer from the strip club, he’s walking right up to your front door!”

There were a loud three knocks at the door and one of the guys inside opened it up cautiously.

“You made it!” he called out, “and not a moment too soon!”

The bouncer walked in and said, “What the hell is happening across the street?”

We filled him in.  He had been invited to join the Lola Show by the owner of the house, but he ended up saving Lo’s sexy ass by leading her out the back door, putting her on an ATV and disappearing into a wooded trail, leaving me with the five guys and the angry mob.  I was quite worried.  All I saw was her cute little rear, triangulated by the three lines of her thong bikini bottom as she held on tightly to the bouncer, and the two of them bounced their way into the thicket.

“Got a second ATV?” I asked, pathetically.

Lola was whisked off over the hills and through the woods to. . . the strip club.  It was Sunday morning and, per the town’s regulations, there is no stripping allowed on the Lord’s day.

He brought her into the vacant establishment of disrepute and offered her a drink.

“Sure,” she said.

“Sorry I had to throw you out of the joint the other day.  I was just doing my job.”

“I understand.”

Lola felt like little Hermione Granger in the hut of Hagrid.

Hagrid placed a potent potion in front of Hermione and she took a few sips, looked up at his hulking figure, and smiled just a little.

“Heap a trouble you got yourself into.”

“The power of my pussy is truly amazing to me.”

“Girls dancing here all day, all night, and you come to town for a few days and suddenly you’d think the gates of hell had swung open.”

“I prefer to think of them as the pearly gates to heaven,” said Lo.  “Would you like to see?”  She asked, looking over at the empty stage.

“My own personal show?”

“Yeah.  Can you put on some music?”

“What would you like to hear?”

“Got any Rihanna?”

“Anything you want.”

“How about ‘Love on the Brain’?”

Hagrid put it on.  As the lyrics echoed in the empty hall, “What you want from me?  What you want from me?” Lo swerved and shimmied on the stage, slipping this way and that like an Asklepion serpent.

“You’re good enough to work here,” said Hagrid.

“Thanks,” said Lo.  “There was a time when I really wanted to do it, either professionally or just for fun.”

“What happened?”

“I went to an amateur night and the management treated me and the other girls so disrespectfully that I swore I’d never go back.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.  We’d treat you right.”

“Oh yeah?  How would you treat me?” asked Lo as she sat on the edge of the stage, her legs spread.

Hagrid was unfazed.  He works in a strip club.

 

It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good

And I can’t get enough

Must be love on the brain.

 

The music continued and Lo slapped her pussy to the beat.  Hagrid looked on as he poured some beer for both of them.

“We treat the girls right.  I can assure you of that.”

Lo turned over onto all fours and began stroking her ass.  Over her shoulder she asked, “I’d like to believe that.”

“Believe it,” said Hagrid as he placed one beer on the table in front of him and one on the stage for Lo.  “My younger sister strips here.”

“What?!  No way?”

“It’s true,” he said, taking a sip, which left a foam line on his mustache.

“She doesn’t have a problem with you working here?” asked Lo as she sat next to Hagrid and had some beer.

“Why should she?” he asked, naively.

“Well, I mean, she’s your sister.”

“Whatever,” he said.  “I see her naked and more at home.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“She brings guys home from the bar. . . and women too.”

“Really?”

“She likes to strut around naked, teasing them, when I’m home.”

“You both live with your parents?”

“No, we have an apartment together.”

“You. . . and your sister. . . live together?”

“Yeah.  Cheaper that way.”

“And she fucks guys in the apartment?”

“All the time.  And women.”

“In her room?”

“In her room, with the door open.  In the living room.  In the kitchen.  It doesn’t really matter to her.”

“I’ve got to meet this woman!”

“You already have.”

“What?!”

“Yeah.  The skanky stripper who was trying to eat you out when I threw you and your man outta here.”

“She’s your sister?!”

“Yep.”

Hagrid looked at his phone.

“Well, you’re in luck,” he said, looking up at Lo.

“How’s that?”

“She just texted me and said the guys dropped your man off at our apartment.”

“What?!  We gotta get over there!” said Lo, frantic that while she spent time dirty dancing for Hagrid, Hagrid’s little sister might be trying to bed her ole man.  Double standard?  You better believe it.

Hagrid and Lo arrived just as I was explaining to the little sister why I had to be smuggled to their apartment like a fugitive from justice.

Lo strutted in after Hagrid’s big bouncer body filled the frame of the door.

“You!” said the little sister.

“You!” said Lo right back at her.  It was like, how do they say it, when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?  But in this case, it was an insatiable slut meets a nymphomaniacal tramp.  Who is who?  Does it matter?

Hagrid’s sister, let’s call her Luna Lovegood for convenience, was wearing just her pink heart panties and a ratty old t-shirt, no bra.

Luna Lovegood/Evanna Lynch

The guy from the across the street, Tom, was with me.  He had hid me in the back seat of his old Buick and got me to Hagrid and Luna’s place without drawing the attention of the mob.

“Jesus, Luna, put some clothes on for fuck’s sake,” demanded Hagrid.

“Why?” she asked, leaning over me and letting me see down her t-shirt.  “They’ve all seen me naked anyway.”

Evanna Lynch

“Whatever,” said Hagrid.

Evanna Lynch

The apartment was more just a three room shack than an apartment.  It had two bedrooms off of the main kitchen/living room.  The walls were paper thin and looked like they’d fall down if someone sneezed too loudly.  The living room had a drab, dirty, worn green carpet with an old, ratty couch.  The kitchen had dirty grey linoleum tiles from the middle of the last century and a tiny table with three chairs around it.  There was a large, flatscreen TV that hung unevenly on the wall of the living room and looked out of place among all the decrepit furniture and peeling paint.

On the wall was one calendar – out of date already – issued by the strip club and with a photo of Luna nude, spreading her legs with the stripper pole blocking sight of her slit, her tits visible on either side of the pole.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Luna asked me, point blank.

“No, he doesn’t want to fuck you,” inserted Lo.

“Can’t he speak for himself?” asked Luna.  “He’s a grown man.”

“If he’s going to fuck anyone around here, it will be me,” she said defiantly.

I sort of liked the attention and having the two women fight over me.

“Why is the town all up in arms about Lola when Luna lives here?”

“What does it mean to be ‘all up in arms’?” asked Lo in her little girl voice that she knows turns me on.

“Play your cards right and I’ll show you tonight,” I said.

“You’re such a pervert – that’s what I love about you,” she said, sitting on my lap and kissing me.

“They don’t give a shit about her,” said Hagrid, nodding at Luna, “because she grew up here.  They know her.  They know all about her.  To them, she’s just more white trash in a town full of white trash.”

“Fuck you!” said Luna, grabbing her handle of vodka and taking a swig.  Mind you, it was early afternoon on a Sunday.

“But you,” said Hagrid, undeterred by Luna and talking to Lola, “Your white ass has class.  You’re from the city.  You’re not from around here.”

“I’d like to have some of her white meat,” said Tom.  “Her chicken tenders look delicious.”

“It might be white,” said Hagrid as he put on a pot of coffee, “but it ain’t tight.”

“Hey,” said Lola, “don’t judge a pussy by its possessor.”

“Well, is it tight?” asked Tom.

I played dumb.  Lo spread her legs.  Anyone could see her pussy flaps falling on either side of the thong.

She pulled at them with both hands. “It’s accommodating.”

“That’s one word for it,” said Tom.

“Look,” said Luna, “if you want some real pussy. . .”

“Real skank pussy,” interrupted Hagrid.

“You can have it,” continued Luna.  “Right here,” she said, rubbing her pussy over her shorts.

“OK,” said Tom, dumbly.

“Do you have to fuck every damn friend I bring here?!” bellowed Hagrid at Luna.

Luna put out her hand.  “A hundred.”

“What?!”

“It will cost you.  One Benjamin.”

“Seriously?”

“I don’t give it away for free, you know.”

“Yes she does,” said Hagrid, getting a couple of coffee mugs from the cabinet.

“Fuck you!” yelled Luna at her brother, “This is our rent, asshole.”

“I don’t have a hundred.”

“What do you have?”

He pulled out his wallet.  He opened it.  He looked in.  “A twenty.”

Luna reached into his wallet and pulled out the twenty before he even knew what happened.  “It’s a deal.”

Luna stuffed the twenty in her jeans shorts and took the guy by the hand into her bedroom.

Lo, Hagrid, and I were left in the kitchen.  The coffee maker sputtered indicating it was brewed.

“Coffee?” offered Hagrid.

“Sure,” I said.

“Got anything to eat?” asked Lo.

Hagrid looked in the fridge, in the cupboard, and finally said, “I got these crackers and some cheese.”

“Perfect,” said Lo.

As Hagrid was preparing the cheddar and a plate of crackers, we could all hear Luna saying, “Yes, yes, yes,” in the other room, coinciding with what sounded like the slam of a bureau against a wall in rhythm with her affirmations.  The wall to her bedroom was literally shaking with each thump.

“Is it like this a lot?” I asked.

“Pretty much every night she dances.”

“I guess she’s gotta pull her weight for rent.”

Hagrid laughed a little.  “You saw how little she weighs.  She barely pulls that weight.  All her money goes to that,” he said, indicating the handle of vodka.  “And drugs.”

“That’s too bad.”

Hagrid just shrugged his wide shoulders as if I had said that it’s too bad it gets dark so early.  It’s out of his control.

“But the village vice squad leaves her alone?” I inquired.

“Like I said, she’s a known bad apple.  Lo here, she’s. . .”

“I’m more of a juicy peach,” Lo said.

“Or nectarine,” I said, indicating her smoothly shaven puss.

“The sweetest nectarine you ever tasted.”

“Fuck!  Fuck!  Jeeezuuus, fuck!” we heard Luna from the other room screaming.

“When do you think it will be safe to get back to. . .” I started to ask just as the walls began shaking like it was an earthquake.  The door to Luna’s bedroom opened and she stood in the doorway, bent over, getting it from behind.

“Will one of you get me a glass of water?” she asked.  Her hair was matted to her forehead with sweat.  “I just squirted and I’m so thirsty.”  It was hot in that shack.  No AC.

“She’s thirsty alright,” muttered Hagrid.

Lo got up and got a grungy glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water from the tap.  She brought it to Luna who stood naked with Tom’s hands covering her tits as he rammed it home from behind.

Luna downed it in one gulp.  “More,” she said.  Was she talking to Lo or Tom?

Lo filled up the glass again.

“This guy’s getting every cent of his twenty bucks worth,” she said before drinking the second glass.

She handed the glass back to Lo and propped herself up by bracing her hands in the doorway.

“He’s goo-oooo-ooo-ood,” she said to Lo.  Her “good” was drawn out and had bumps in its tone as she was rammed hard from behind.

“I’m good,” said Lo, laughing a bit.

“Shut the damn door,” cried Hagrid, exasperated.

Luna just gave him her middle finger.

“Fuck my ass,” she said over her shoulder.  It seemed she said it just to piss off her brother.

“The condom fell off as I pulled out,” Tom said to her.  “It’s still in you.”

“Forget the condom.  Fuck my ass.”

“I don’t have another one.”

“FUCK. MY. ASS.”

The three of us slowly sipped our coffee as Luna got it up the ass in the doorway.

“What were you saying?” asked Hagrid.

“Oh, I was wondering when you think it will be safe for us to get out of here.”

“We could do a drive-by now and check it out.”

“ATV or. . . ?”

“We’ll take my pickup truck.”

“Wait!” said Luna.  “I want to go with you.”

The guy behind her was still fucking her ass.

“There’s no room,” said Hagrid.

“It’s big enough for everyone to fit in,” she said without irony.

“Why would I take you?” asked Hagrid.

“Because, I want to go.”

“You’re busy, right now, earning rent.”

Luna looked over her shoulder, shut her eyes, and appeared to be focusing on performing some sort of Jedi mind trick.

Suddenly the guy behind her was cumming and cooing and cumming and calling out for the Jesus.

“Works every time,” said Luna.

“What does?” asked Lo.

“I have incredible control over my sphincter.”

Luna pulled forward, turned, got on her knees, and took Tom’s cock in her mouth.  I couldn’t help but think, “Wow!  What a Lola move!”

When Luna was done cleaning him off, Luna put on some raggedy clothes and the four of us piled into the tiny back seat of the pickup truck.

Why were all of us in the back seat?  Hagrid was driving and in the passenger seat was his giant Great Dane, sitting regally with the window open, surveying the landscape as we drove.

Lo sat on my lap and Luna on the other guy’s lap.  Lo’s and Luna’s legs were touching.

“I really liked what I saw of you in the club,” said Luna, rubbing her hand up Lo’s thigh.

“Cut it out, whore!” called Hagrid from the front.

“Fuck you!” said Luna.

Luna spread her legs.  Lo could see the tight shorts stained with wetness from the cum leaking out of her ass.  Luna unbuttoned the shorts and unzipped them.  She reached down and appeared to be finger-fucking herself.  But then she pulled out her hand.

“There it is!” she cried, displaying the recovered condom.  She tossed it out the window with a laugh.

We got to the house and the angry mob had moved on.

“Thanks so much,” I said to Hagrid.

“No problem.  Get outta town while you can,” he cautioned.

“Will do!”

“Thanks!  Thanks for everything,” said Lo to everyone in the truck.

“Bye!” called Luna, to Lola, as she flashed her tits.  “Stay slutty!”

“You know I will!”

Lo and I waisted no time packing up, writing a little note to my friend John, and getting the hell out of Dodge.

The End

Lola Down – Cover Girl

 

Victory Lap

As she made the ‘OK’ sign with her index finger and thumb, my hard cock filled the hole of that universal hand-gesture that indicates everything is alright.  And everything was better than alright.  She was lying under my arched, naked body, her left hand doing the bare minimum necessary to still qualify as a hand-job.  I was doing most of the work, thrusting in and out of her digital aperture.  She was lying naked on her back, her right hand doing more work on her clit than her left on my dick.  But, hey, it’s not a competition.  I was pleased.  She was pleasing – herself and me.

“That’s it, you big, bad dog,” she said in a sultry tone, referencing the taboo topic of her acquired technique.

She knew exactly what that would do to me.  She plays me like a fiddle with her nimble fingers, though I’m sure she’d rather play a long, black clarinet that requires both hands to get the proper fingering and also the use of a wet mouth and tongue to blow all those Ds loud and with proper dynamics.

Within seconds my baton was conducting the final climactic notes of this symphony.

As I write these tortured metaphors, I can hear Lo laughing and saying, “Symphony!  P’shaw, more like a minuet.”

Be that as it may, she was covered in pearlesque droplets from chin to chest.

Holiday Glaze

I fell back onto the bed, relishing the sweet release she uncorked for me.

But she, rather than lounge in the lethargic bliss I was enjoying, hopped out of bed, put on her jeans and a tank-top, and said, “Do you want to come walk with me?”

Or, at least that’s what I understood her to say.  What she actually said was, “Do you want to cum-walk with me?”

“What?” I asked groggily.

“Cum-walk.”

“I don’t want to walk.”

“No, Daddio, a cum-walk.”

“What’s a cum-walk?” I asked, finally understanding what she was articulating.

“It’s like a walk of shame.  A stride of pride, a victory lap, the trek of triumph, the Something About Mary hommage,” she said with a French accent.

“Since when is that a thing?”

“Oh, old man, hurry up, get dressed, and I’ll tell you as you accompany my for a strumpet stride through the neighborhood.”

“Ok, ok,” I said, laughing, “You’re killing me with these colorful combinations of colloquialisms for cum.”

“Say that four times fast!”

“Where’d you learn all those?

“Eskimos have forty different words for snow and I. . .”

“Forget it.  I don’t want to hear what precipitated your poetic euphemisms.”

When I was dressed, we walked outside, arm-in-arm.  She was proud to have the origin of her adornments accompany her as she displayed her latest accomplishment.

She said hello in a flirtatious voice to the others who passed us by on the delightful spring morning.  Out of the corner of her eye, she tried to spy if they looked carefully enough to discern what was glinting in the sunlight on her cheek, chin, neck, and shoulder.

“So, when did this become a thing?” I asked again.

“It’s always been a thing.  I mean, remember the time at the nude beach when you came all over my face and tits?”

“Which time?”

“Oh, Daddio.  The beach with the geriatric gentlemen who genuflected at my altar.”

“Right.  Yeah, so?”

“Remember, after you rained your love down on me, we walked together, saying hi to the beachcombers.”

“Yeah, I remember, fondly.”

“And the time I met that very nice athlete in the park.”

“You mean the big black guy who came on you?”

“You have a good memory for an old man.”

“That’s why I write these things down – to keep your paramours straight.”

“Oh, straight is ok, but I prefer kinky paramours.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Anyhow, after he came on me and I walked up to you dripping with his jizz.  That also was a cum-walk.”

“I see.”

“Are you going to write about this one?”

“Of course I am, even if no one believes me.”

“They don’t believe you, Daddy?”

“Lo, you can understand that a lot of people find you unbelievable.”

“I’ve been told that before.”

“Morning,” said a passerby.

“Hi,” Lo chirped back in a perky voice.  Her tits were perky too in her see-through white tank-top.

Lo’s braless top

“Getting a lot of looks,” I remarked to her.

“Yeah, but I made the wrong choice.”

“How’s that?”

“They’re all looking at my chest, not my face.”

“Ah yes, the age-old dilemma.  What’s the reaction you’re looking for?”

“I’d just like a tall, dark, and handsome man to give me a long stare that says, ‘I know what you just did, you slut.”

“I think you take too much pleasure in this.”

“Oh, Daddio!  The only thing more pleasurable is when it’s leaking out of my puss through my panties and shorts at the same time as it’s on my face.”

“Do you have a special name for that walk?”

“The Double-Stuff Strut, The Cream-Pie Promenade, The Spit-Roast Saunter.”

“I should have known.”

admiration