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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

Impressive Size

[Prequel to Breeding Farm]

“It’s so big!” gasped Lo.  “It’s beautiful.  Stunning.  I just can’t believe it.”  She truly was impressed.  We had just pulled up in the driveway of Lily’s uncle’s mountain resort home.  Her uncle was traveling around Europe and, since Lily was one of his favorites, he gave her permission to use it and to host friends.  We happened to be the friends that she and Jim chose to invite up for a long weekend.

The air was crisp and the sky was clear and blue and radiant.  All the trees on the mountain were in their peak of autumn perfection.  We had the whole secluded house to ourselves.

Lily showed us around the grounds and gave us a tour of the home.  Then she showed us to our quarters.  The bed was enormous!  The bathroom and bathtub were almost as big!!!  This would be fun.  Lo and I looked at each other knowingly, expectantly.

Since it took us quite a while to get up there, winding through the dangerous mountain switchbacks, we made some dinner and then had some drinks.  We were all tired from the trip and Lo and I were eager to get to bed and get to each other.

Lo All Wet

She got naked and hopped into the clear glass encased shower as I drew a bath in the tub.  From inside her little chamber, she pressed her tits up against the glass and then turned and pressed her ass up against it as she used the hand-held showerhead to massage between her legs.

She came a couple of times, struggling to keep her screams to herself.  Then she emerged from the shower and slid her sexy self down upon my hard cock as I lay half-submerged in the water of the claw-foot white porcelain tub.

We had to be careful because we didn’t want to make too much noise or too much mess.  When she had finished cumming in reverse cowboy position, she turned and descended on my spear once more, this time facing me.  Grabbing her tits and pulling her nipples, she asked me, “Shall I be a good girl this weekend, Daddy, or a bad girl?”

“You’re already a bad girl,” I said, “so, you might as well not deny your nature.”

She came again and then urged me to get up and out and dry off so we could enjoy one another in the plush bed.  Bent over the side; face down in the down pillows; on her knees straddling me – we explored many positions, before she finally opted for being bent over a chair and seeing herself in the full-length mirror as I made her tits swing with my thrusts from behind her.

Just as we were both approaching the pinnacle of success in this position, she commanded, “Stop!”  She wasn’t kidding.  I did as she bade me.  “Get a towel and put it on the floor.”

I followed her command.  The towels were thick and heavy and the floor was wall-to-wall carpet.

“Get behind me and keep going, only harder.”

I again followed her command and within moments her clenching climax had pushed my member right out and she was squirting what seemed to be gallons on the towel beneath her.

She collapsed and said, breathlessly, “I knew that was going to happen.”

The next morning, after I had made everyone breakfast, we headed out on a hike.  I happily pulled up the rear, right behind Lo, whose behind, in her black athletic tights, was the best inspiration for me to keep going.

Lo – Tight

It was an exhilarating trek through the crisp air of the mountain tops.  The sights and the thrills were worth the exertion.

When we got back to the house, we were famished and we heated up a big pot of chili we had prepared before the trip.

We then settled into our vacation home and after a few glasses of wine, Jim suggested a game of cards.  We decided on poker and I raised the stakes by suggesting strip poker.  Lo kicked me under the table.  I didn’t know why at the moment.

Our friends were game and we got to playing.  Little did everyone (except Lo) know, but I’m a terrible poker player.  I can never keep straight which is the better hand.  Lo took pity on me and helped me all she could, to her own detriment.  She did her level best of spying on my cards to help me, to discard her good hand, to lift me up by lowering herself.  Doing that was tougher than actually winning!  But before too long, she was shirtless, sockless, and then pantless.  Not to be outdone by her rival, Lily went garment-for-garment with Lo.  After only a couple of rounds they were both braless.  It came down to a question of who was going to lose her panties first: Lo or Lilly?  You guessed it!  Lo was out and in her birthday suit.  She seemed more than happy to be the loser of the game.

During the hour or so that it took for Lo to win or lose, depending on how you’re scoring this, we had finished a bottle of wine and Jim and I had broke the seal on our special bottle of Scotch.

Eager to keep playing, Lo suggested that since she had no more clothes to offer, we play for certain “favors.”  These new rules started out tame enough.  First Lo had to bend over to pick up a napkin.  Then she had to get up and walk around the table to refresh my glass and Jim’s glass, with a little curtsy of course.  She had to remove Lily’s panties when Lilly lost.  But soon we moved on to having Lo’s writs be tied up around one of the support beams in the room as she bent over.  We found a riding crop that Lily’s uncle used as a decorative prop, and we used it, each taking turns swatting Lo’s ass and occasionally her pussy from behind.  Lily was the cruelest with the crop.  But then we gave Lo some aftercare.  Each of us got a turn fingering her from behind.  She came almost immediately for each of us.  After Lily’s turn (she went last), Lo pressed her legs together and commanded me to grab a towel, as she had the previous night.  When I had spread it at her feet, she spread her legs and looked as if she was putting out a fire from between her thighs!

“Holy shit!” cried Lily.  “I’ve never seen that actually happen in real life!!!”  She seemed thrilled.

Lo slowly slunk to the floor, exhausted.  She looked up, a smile on her face, a bit proud, her legs spread in a ‘V’ shape, and a puddle underneath her.  “Really?” she asked.

“It happens all the time to Lo,” I chimed in.

“I’ve read about it, I’ve seen it in videos, but never actually saw a woman squirt.  How do you do it?”

“I don’t do it.  It just happens.  Talent, I guess.”

Lily untied Lo’s wrists and helped her up.

“Do you think you could show Lily how to do that?” asked Jim, turning the tables on his bride, since she had been eager to have Lo teach Jim how to pleasure a woman despite his diminutive size.

“I know a lot of people claim to be able to teach it,” said Lo, “and there are a lot of websites out there dedicated to how to make a woman squirt, but I don’t know.  I only know that it works for me when I’m super aroused.”

“It’s more of a problem than a talent,” I said.

Lo frowned at me.  “What do you mean by that?” she asked.

“Come on, Lo,” I said, “you know that you sometimes accidentally squirt at very inconvenient times.”

“Oh, that’s true.”

“And the number of sheets we have to go through. . .”

“Yeah, it makes for a lot of laundry.”

“And how you shoot me right out of you mid-coitus.”

“That’s true too,” she admitted.

“I don’t need to squirt,” interrupted Lily, “I just would like to cum when having sex.”  She blurted it out and I could see that Jim’s request of Lo and Lo’s performance clearly were making her feel inadequate and so she turned the tables right back on Jim.

“Look,” said Lo, always the peace maker, “I have an idea to help everyone.  I’ve done this before, or a variation of this.  I’m already naked.  Why don’t we all get naked, light a candle, sit in a circle, and speak openly, honestly, candidly about sex, love, and relationships.  As long as the light of the candle is illuminating our circle, there is no judgment, no accusation, no falsity.  We will be vulnerable and compassionate with each other.  Our nudity is only an outward symbol of our inward vulnerability.”

Lily looked at Jim and he nodded his head that he was willing to give it a go.

We all got naked and for the first time I got a view of the little that Lilly had to work with.  Jim’s physique is fit, trim, and small.  Attractive, but tiny.  I’m not hung like a horse (horse cock being something Lo dearly likes), but compared to Jim I was.  I had to remind myself, by the candlelight, there is no judgment.  Right.

We all sat down in a circle with the candle at the center.  Jim and I were cross-legged and both Lola and Lily, being more flexible, sat full lotus position.

Lola started us off, “Sex is good, but sex without meaning, without connection, without intimacy can be empty and leave you cold.”

As Lo said these words, I couldn’t help but think of all the times she fucked guys, strangers, in the back seat of the car as I drove, or at the beach as men came all over her body, or. . . .  Wait, I reminded myself again, no judgment.  Got it.

“Yeah,” said Lily, picking up the thread of the conversation, “that’s true, but sometimes, while having that meaningful connection, I just want to get rammed home with a long, hard cock.  I want to submit to a domineering, rough, take-command partner.  That can be both hot and intimate.”

“Jim?” asked Lo.

“I know she likes that, but it’s just not me.  I’m kind, gentle by nature.  I love her.  I don’t want to. . .” he trailed off, not even able to articulate the deeds she wanted done to her.

“That’s totally understandable,” said Lo, “but there is a major gap between her desire and yours, or her idea of intimate intercourse and yours.”

“It’s clear you love each other,” I said, “but do you trust each other?”

“Completely,” said Lily right away.

Jim just nodded.

“If you trust each other,” I followed up my thought, “then maybe an open relationship.  Having a bull who will come over and do for Lily all the things she wants and needs could expand your relationship pallet.”

“A bull?” asked Jim naively.

“A man who fucks married women,” explained Lily.  She obviously had explored this herself.

“H.H. does that with me,” said Lo, “and he loves it.”

“I like to see her satisfied,” I said.  “If she likes to be fucked by another guy, then why should I stand in her way?”

“Come on,” said Lo, to me as if calling bullshit.  “You are not simply standing to the side while another guy fucks my brains out.  You love it.  You love to see it and to guide him through it and to hear all about it if you can’t be there in person.”

“She’s right,” I confessed.  “Honesty.”

Jim, who was very visibly uncomfortable by everything he was hearing, said, “I just don’t think I can do that.  I mean, we’ve given an open relationship a chance and it drove me crazy.  I almost called off the wedding because I was so enraged and jealous.”

“Jealously is a symptom, not a cause,” said Lo.

“A symptom of what?”

“Of so many things – a feeling of inadequacy, a fear of being left, anger with a previous girlfriend who hurt you.  I mean, it could stem from any number of deep-seated insecurities.  But mainly it’s a form of fear.”

“That doesn’t make it any less real.  Understanding it doesn’t remove it,” said Jim.

“No, you’re right.  I’m just pointing out that what you’re feeling doesn’t stem from what Lily is doing.  She loves you.  But she also has desires.  She wants to be with you.  But she also wants to have wild, earth-shattering orgasms.”

“And I want to be used, abused, humiliated, and tossed aside like a worthless fuckdoll” said Lily.

There was an awkward silence before Lo said, very reassuringly, “All healthy desires if channeled properly.”

I decided to be daring.  “Would you like me to demonstrate?” I asked, knowing full well that Lo’s jealousy would explode inside her heart like a hydrogen bomb.

“I’d love it,” said Lily looking at my limp cock.

Lo gave me a sidelong glance and said, “I don’t think right now is the time for that.  We’re making progress.”

“Oh,” I said, “I didn’t mean now.  I just meant. . .”  I was caught now, but it was worth it to get Lo’s ire up after that perfectly detached and clinical explanation of jealousy she just pronounced as if she were so far beyond and above it.  But I felt bad immediately after because it suddenly dawned on me that she might not have been talking from a superior position to jealousy, but from her intimate knowledge and understanding of it within her own heart.

As if to strike back at me, she then said, “Jim, I feel as if you’re bottling up your emotions and not letting them flow out.  What can I do to help you?”  As she said this, she caressed his knee with her left hand.  I saw his cock twitch at the unexpected touch.

“I just feel like I don’t know how to please her.”

Lo’s hand moved closer to his crotch.  “What do you want to know?” she asked.

“I want to find a way that I can be everything she needs,” he said.

Lo’s hand got to his balls and began fondling them as his micropenis started to grow.

“We cannot be everything for our partners.  We have to be content with who and what we are for them and who and what they are for us.”  She began stroking his little cock with her thumb and index finger.  “Do you like that?” asked Lo.

“Yeah,” he said, “it feels good.”

“Lie down,” said Lo.

He reclined on the carpet as Lo continued to jerk him off.  Her right hand was caressing his legs, spreading them apart.  Her left hand gently held his little member between her thumb and finger.

“You know, I wouldn’t even feel you if you were to penetrate me,” said Lo.

“I know,” said Jim as if in a hypnotic trance.

“But that wouldn’t matter to you, would it?” asked Lo.

“No,” said Jim, “I’d be really into it.”

“I know you would,” said Lo.

From where I was sitting, I could see Lily begin to stroke her pussy as she continued to sit in the lotus position.  She was enjoying this.

Lo lowered her mouth to Jim’s cock and tickled the tip with the tip of her tongue, clearly in order to let us see what she was doing.  Then she lifted up her mouth and said, “Don’t cum.”

“I’m trying not to cum, but it’s so hard.  It feels so good.”

“Stand up,” commanded Lo.

Jim stood up.

Lo pulled him forward and positioned him next to Lily as Lo, still on her knees, manipulated his tiny pud with her fingers.

“Close your eyes,” Lo said.

Jim closed his eyes.

Lo stroked faster and faster and lifted her mouth to his little balls to kiss and lick them.

“You may cum now,” she said, and no sooner did she say this than he came, right on Lily’s face.

“Open your eyes,” said Lo to Jim.

He followed her command and looked down at Lily who was covered in his ejaculate and smiling.

“There you go,” said Lo.  “Did you like that?”

Both of them said “Yes” at the same time.

By the way, I was hard as a rock at this point and I finally said, “Lo, any chance I will get to cum?”

“Oh, are you hard-up?” she said in a mocking manner.

“Yes.”

“Do you deserve to cum?” she asked with a look in her eye that told me I was being punished for my comment earlier.

“I sure do,” I said confidently.

She was feeling surly, but despite that, she indulged me and she told me to lie back.

I followed her instruction.  To my surprise, instead of doing to me what she had done to Jim, she sat on my face.  She was facing my toes and she invited Lily over as I began lapping Lo’s wet pussy lips like a thirsty dog.

Lily grabbed my cock and balls (I could tell it was Lily, though I couldn’t see her, because I know Lo’s touch) and began furtively fondling.  Then she began to jack me off.  I felt a mouth lower on my cock, but now I wasn’t too sure whose it was.  Lost in the mystery of it all, I gave in and came in heavy, forceful spurts.  Lo came as well, drenching my face.  I practically drowned.

When she got up and I sat up, Lily said, “You come almost as quickly as Jim does.”

“That’s not fair,” I said in my defense, “I’ve been watching Lo for over an hour now.  I was primed and ready.”

“Ready to be pumped dry,” said Lo.

“Well,” said Jim, “I think we all got something out of this.”

“Um,” said Lily, “of the four of us, three of us came.”

“Well Jim,” said Lo, “you got some work to do.”

Jim smiled and asked Lily, “Do you want to go to the bedroom?”

Lo looked at him, got up, exited the room into the mud room and returned with one of the dog leashes that was hanging there.  She put the collar around Lily’s neck and gave the handle to Jim.  “That’s not how you ask a slut like Lily.  Take her upstairs.”

Jim stood up and gently pulled on the leash.  Lily got on all fours and crawled like an obedient bitch at his side.  Off they went.

“Well done,” I said to Lo.

“Don’t give me that ‘well done’ bullshit.  You’re in big trouble mister.”

“Me?” I said innocently, “What did I do?”

“You know very well what you did.”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.  I just want you to admit it.”

“OK, so maybe I tried to suggest that I do something with Lily.  But look at what you actually did with Jim.”

“There is no comparison.”

“How not?’

“Because I’m your slutty hotwife and you are my obedient, chaste, little stag.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Would you have it any other way?”

“No.  Actually I wouldn’t.  I was just teasing you to see if you would be jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous.  I just want you to know your place.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“And where is my place?”

“Right between my legs.”

 

Protected: Breeding Farm

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When Writing, You Gotta Have a Point

“You should do it,” said Lo.

“I don’t think so,” I replied.

“No, you definitely should do it.”

“It’s not really my thing,” I said.

Now, dear reader, before your imagination gets the best of you, we were not talking about any of the things you may have thought we were talking about.

I had been invited to give a talk at a Moth reading.  As many of you probably already know, a Moth reading is a storytelling event where each speaker is given about five minutes to tell a tale without a script.  No notes.  Just ad lib, though the performance can be prepared and rehearsed like an actor’s monologue.

“I’m a writer.  I’m not a performer, a thespian.  And I’m awful at memorization.  It becomes stale to me.”

With a “Peshaw,” she dismissed my objections.  “You can tell a story!  You’re made of stories.  You ooze stories.”

“A little too graphic,” I muttered.

“You want to ooze some stories into me?” she asked suggestively.

“Lo, that’s the problem!  All my stories are about you!  About sex!  This has to be PG.  And also, I notice that good stories, like the one’s that win at Moth competitions and get the most applause on Medium, have a point, a sentimental little piece of wisdom, a surprising ah-ha! culminating conclusion.  My stories don’t have that.  They’re just stuff we do, things we say, everyday life.  There’s no point to them at all.”

“Well. . . ,” she cooed, “I wouldn’t go that far.  You have a nice little point.”  She reached down and grabbed at my crotch.

“Little?”

“Why don’t you point me in the right direction and maybe a story will come to you.”

She got on the bed and slid out of her panties, leaned back and spread her legs.

I positioned myself above her.  She reached down between her legs and rubbed her pussy. “Mmmmm, that feels good,” she said.

I hadn’t even touched her yet.

She raised her hand from her crotch to her mouth and licked her fingers.  She didn’t do this in order to lubricate, but to taste her own lubrication.

“Fuck me, Daddy.”

Before I entered her, she was back to caressing her pussy – pulling her labia and slapping her hole, making popping sounds with her hand.

She came.

“That felt good,” she said.

“Lo, you know that I. . .”

“I know, Daddy.  The point wasn’t to make you cum.”

“Then what was the point?”

“You figure it out.  You’re the writer.”

One sexy reader

 

Quiver

[Continued from “Black Friday: A Juicy Story Before Brunch

The day after Thanksgiving.  Black Friday.  Miami Beach.  Lo was on a mission.  This was our third day in Miami.  Seventy-two hours of glorious sunny days, short-shorts, and sex.  And, in typical Lo fashion, she wanted more of all three.

“What’s for breakfast?” I asked.

“I thought we were having sex,” she said as she sat on the side of the bed wearing only her sexy tank-top T-shirt and spreading her legs.

“Sex for breakfast?”

“Yeah, we’ll call it ‘Sex-fest.’”

“But Lo, you just came twice.”

“That was all external stimulation.  It just makes me more hungry.”

“Hungry for breakfast?” I asked, since I was starving.

“No, hungry for your cock in my cunt.”

“It’s not even 9 a.m. and you’re using that sort of language?!”

“It’s never too early to speak a Romance Language.”

“You forget, I was in the Romance Languages department at my college.  They didn’t speak like that.”

“Illiterate.”

“We could discuss the nuances of philology all morning, but. . .”

“But I want you to fuck me.  Please.  Just a quick in-and-out is all I need.”

“Fine,” I said and I puled my shorts down around my knees.

The hotel room bed was only a full; much smaller than we were used to.  I said to her, “There better be a spot for me in that bed cause I’m getting in it.”

“Oh, I’ve got a spot for you and you definitely are going to get in it.”

She turned over and scrunched up her body into a little ball on the bed, exposing her puss and ass to me.

“Just go right in,” she said over her shoulder, as if I needed some instructions.

“Top or bottom?” I asked.

“Top or bottom?” she was confused.

“Yeah, which hole?”

“Which do you want?” she asked seductively, surprising me.

“Top!” I said without hesitation.

“Well, fill the bottom first and, if you’re good, you can have the top.”

Lola & HH

Standing by the side of the bed, I slid in with ease and she moaned.  She was drenched and dripping.  “Stay.  Right.  There,” she commanded.  I didn’t even move.  I just grabbed her by her hips and lifted her a little then pushed her down a little.  Up and down, up and down I slid her on my cock.   My thumb moved its way to her top hole to press against it. Within seconds her cunt was gushing and clenching.  I pulled her in closer by her hips to make sure I stayed in place; the tip of my cock up against her g-spot.  She didn’t even scream.  She just bit her lower lip and moaned.  I could see her facial expressions and contortions in the mirror.  In a few more seconds she pulled forward and, as I slid out of her, she squirted.  I was careful to jump back and avoid getting splashed.

“Ahhhh,” she said, “that did the trick.”

She was splayed out on the bed now, breathing heavily.  I stood next to the bed.

“This isn’t a coat rack,” I said of my erect phallus.

“What?” she asked, perplexed.

“You promised me the top hole, remember?”

“Oh, right!”

She scrunched up into her little ball again, wiggling her ass in front of me.  “Can you hit the target?” she teased.

“Stay still and my arrow will fill your quiver.”

I grabbed her hips again and pressed the full head of my cock up against her sphincter.  Her flower bud opened.  Slowly I filled her.  I could see her hands out in front of her clutching the bed sheets as she felt the pain and pleasure of my deep dive.

Again she commanded, “Stay. Right. There.”  Her ass clenched down on me and her body turned the noun, “quiver,” into a verb.

Suddenly she lunged forward, just like she did before, leaving me hard up, standing by the side of the bed a second time as she caught her breath.

Turning her head over her shoulder, she said, “Amazing, Daddio!”

Then, noticing me pulling up my shorts, she said, “Aren’t you going to cum?”

“Darling, thirty seconds of standing behind you, rigid as a statue, while you got your rocks off was exclusively for your pleasure.”

“But I want you to cum.”  She turned around, on all fours, facing me, or rather, my crotch.  She looked up at me and asked, “Don’t you know what Cyndi Lauper says?”

“Cyndi Lauper?!  You’re dating yourself dear.”

“Oh, I wish I could date myself.  I’d be such a good fuck.”

“You’re getting distracted again.  What does Cyndi Lauper say?”

“Oh, right.  She sings, ‘Girls just wanna have cum. That’s all they really want – some cum.’”  She sang the lyrics.

Girls Just Wanna Have Cum

“I think you might be taking some poetic license with that.”

“Whatever.  Cum in my mouth,” she commanded as she took my cock into her open mouth and slobbered over it with her tongue.

“And spoil your appetite?” I asked, enjoying the sensation and the thought of what a dirty, slutty girl she is.

“It’s more of an appetizer.”

“No,” I said flatly, pulling out of her mouth.

She pouted.

“I’m starving,” I said.  “If I don’t eat soon, I’m going to waste away.”

She rolled her eyes sarcastically – as if I was in any mortal danger of wasting away.

“What?” I asked.  “Look at me,” I said, striking a pose, flexing my biceps, “One hundred seventy-five pounds of pure muscle!”

“One hundred and seventy-five?!” Lo exclaimed in disbelief, “Aren’t you a few pounds off there?”

“No.  It is a hundred and seventy-five pounds of muscle.  The other thirty pounds might be fat, but under it is the pure muscle.”

“Still a little shy of the mark, I think.”

“Well, the other ten pounds is brain, of course.”

“Of course,” she said sardonically.

I stepped on the scale and cursed it saying, “You lying sack of shit!”

Lo, naked but for her T-shirt, stepped on the scale after me and said, “It better not be lying, it says I lost two pounds!”

“It lies.”

“Does it?  Or could it be that my diet and exercise and drinking plenty of liquids has caused me to lose two pounds?”

“It lies.”

“Why would it lie to me that I lost two pounds and lie to you that you. . . well, uh, you’re. . . ?”

“Because it likes the view it has of you from down there.”

She laughed.  She almost never laughs at my jokes, but I suppose this one also appealed to her vanity.  I love it when she laughs.

“Do you like the view?” she asked, bending over and looking at me from between her knees.

“I don’t know why they call it mooning when it looks as bright and pink as the sunrise to me,” I said.  “But as pretty as you are, morning glory, can we please go get breakfast?”

“Sure,” she said as she slipped into her bikini bottoms.  “How do these look?”

It was a very skimpy pink thong bikini bottom that she purposely pulled up extra tight.

I gave her a cat-call whistle and launched into a sing-song limerick:

 

Do your labia hang low?
Do they wobble to and fro?
Can you tie ’em in a knot?
Can you tie ’em in a bow?
Can you throw ’em o’er your shoulder
Like a continental soldier?
Do your labia hang low?

 

“What?!” she asked, looking down between her legs.

“Look in the mirror,” I gestured.

She took a look and could see what I saw: her puffy pussy lips straddling the skinny g-string.  She’s very self-conscious of her large labia.

“Ah, fiddle-dee-dee,” she said, dismissing my concern.  She walked up to me and, seeing that I had pitched a tent in my shorts, she sang back:

Does your cock stand high?
Does it reach up to the sky?
Does it droop when it’s wet?
Does it stiffen when it’s dry?
Can you wave it at your neighbor
With an element of flavor?
Does your dick stand high?

 

Touché,” I said.

“Tushie?” she asked, turning around and showing me her bottom again.

I smacked it hard and said, “That’s for being tardy.”

We finally got in the rental car and I let Lo drive.  Lo being Lo, she blasted the radio and “I’m Real” by Ja Rule happened to be on, pounding the bass of the speakers to the chorus:

 

 

-Cause I’m real-
The way you walk
The way you move
The way you talk
-Cause I’m real-
The way you stare
The way you look
Your style your hair
-Cause I’m real-
The way you smile
The way you smell
It drives me wild
-Cause I’m real-
And I can’t go on without you

 

 

Lo was contentedly squirming in her leather bucket seat to the beat of the music.

“Can you shut that damn music off?!” I complained.

“You know, you sound like an old man when you say that.”

“You know, I am an old man.”

“Oh, I know.  It’s just sad to think about.”

“Well, if you want to break up with me, go right ahead.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“No.  You said that it’s ‘sad’ to think about me being an old man.”

“It is!  I mean, I’m not even at the great hump of my life yet.”

“I thought I was the great hump of your life.”

“I should hope not.”

“What?!”

“What I mean is, I’m not over the hill yet.”

“I should hope not.”

“What does that mean?”

“It simply means, that at twenty-something, you still have some great humps to look forward to.”

“And you don’t?”
“I didn’t say that.  I’m looking forward to humping you in about five minutes.”

“Why so long?”

“So long?  Is five minutes too much to wait for you youngins these days?”

“Five minutes is like two and a half news cycles.”

“Well, here’s some breaking news: the best is yet to come.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Why’s that?”

“Cause I love cumming.”  She pulled up to the curb.  “Here we are.  Where are you going to fuck me?”

“Well, I need nourishment first.  Let’s eat,” I said as we got out of the convertible and went to the hostess stand on the sidewalk.  We were seated at a quaint table outside with a view of Ocean Boulevard and the beach across the street.  Pretty people were walking by and fancy cars were cruising slowly to see and be seen.

A tricked-out car drove by – shiny, sparkly, loud.  Lo was clearly impressed.

She observed it closely and then commented, “The exhaust is merely cosmetic.”

“Just like yours!” I quipped.

She gave me a look of faux shock.

A musclebound fella walked by in a tiny speedo and a loose fitting tank-top.

“Lo, stop drooling.  Or at least use a napkin.”

“What?!  He’s a very beefy boy. . . and I’m a beefeater,” she said, taking a slow, seductive bite of her sausage.

After breakfast, we walked down the strip and Lo was window shopping, until she was actually shopping.  I sat outside sipping my frozen drink.  When she came back out, she gave me a t-shirt like the one worn by Mr. Muscles.

“I didn’t know whether to get you a large or an extra large,” she said.

“You should always get me grandiose.”

“To match your ego?”

We walked down to the beach and Lo pulled out of her oversized bag a sheet she stole from the hotel.  She spread it out on the sand and then spread herself on top of it.  I sat down next to her and began rubbing in the sunscreen on her shoulders.  When I was done I said, “I’ll draw on your back with my finger and you tell me what I’m spelling.”

“OK.  But where’s the top?”

“Here,” I said, as I scribbled up by her shoulder blades.

“Hey!  What are you doing?” she asked as my finger went down between her butt cheeks.

“I’m just seeing where the bottom is.  Oh!  Look at that.  I think I found the ink well.”

“Yeah?!  You’re gonna have a broken nub if you keep it up!”

After a bit, she pulled out the deck of cards from her bag and began shuffling them.

“What are you playing?”

“Strip Solitaire.”

“Are you winning or losing?”

“I’ll take off my top and you tell me.”

I scanned the beach to see if any other women were going topless.

“Hey!” she said, “I’m over here!!!”

She thought she saw me looking at some of the other sexy women on the strand.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, teasing her.  “So I like looking at them.  They’re like boats: I like how they look, but I don’t want to have one.”

“Oh yeah?  Like boats?  You better watch out that I don’t wash them away with my tsunami.”

“Are you squirting again?  I didn’t even see you touch your puss.”

“I don’t need to with all this eye-candy.”

“Oh, so it’s ok for you to look, but not me?”

“Exactly.  Next pair of sunglasses I buy you will be blinders.”

With that comment, she left her card game and sauntered into the water.  Just at the water’s edge, she turned back to me and called, “Daddio!  Aren’t you coming?”

“Not yet,” I called back, “but I will be.”

“What?!” she called.

“I’m not coming!”

She yelled back, “I’ll fix that!”  She then turned tail and bent over, revealing her shoelace thin thong.  She feigned finding a seashell, but she was just showing off.  She eventually walked in the water, sticking out her tongue at me over her shoulder as the waves crested and fell over her hips.  Then she dove in.

When she returned from the cool dip, she asked, “What do you think of my hair?” as it dripped from its curls down her breasts.

“You look just like Medusa.”

“That’s not a compliment.  Wasn’t she so ugly that she turned anyone who looked at her to stone?”

“No no no, that’s not it.  What the Greeks meant was any man who saw her got hard as a rock and that’s how I feel about you and your wild, curly hair.”

“Nice save,” she said with a smile as she laid down next to me, getting me all wet.

I had just got comfortable and was engrossed in the book I was reading, The Postmodern Condition, you know, your typical beach read, when she said, “Let’s go for a walk Daddy.”

“What?  Now?”

“Yes, Daddio.  I want to go find something nice.”

“To wear?”

“To fuck.”

“I’m still available, you know.”

“Available?  No you’re not.  You’re taken.”

“I’d never know it.”

“You had me this morning.”

“For thirty seconds to help you get your rocks off.”

“So, what the hell are you complaining about?”

“I’d like to get my rocks off.”

“Oh, are your rocks aching?”

“Yes.  Yes they are.”

“Follow me.  Let’s see if we can do something about that.”

We went for a walk through the dunes to a little wooded park, verdant with scrub pines, palms, and colorful flowers.  When we found a little bench, she said to me, “OK, you go over there and just watch.”

“What am I watching for?”

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

I sat diagonally from her, about thirty feet away.  I watched as she sat there looking pretty.  Guys walked by, mostly couples.  But then one muscular black man in a skimpy bathing suit, bulging out of the itty-bitty stretchy material, stopped and asked her a question.  She looked up, batting her eyelashes at him, smiling, licking her teeth with her tongue as she looked down, furtively, at his crotch.  They began chatting.  And then, within not so very long they got up and walked out of sight.

About a half-hour later Lo returned to the spot where I waited for her.

She approached me slowly, with a look of wily satisfaction and mystery about her.

“You can have me now, Daddy.  He’s all done.”  I noticed jizz covering her clavicle.  She grabbed my hand and walked me to the secluded spot where she had just been with the tall, dark stranger.

“Lo,” I said, “What do you mean he’s all done?”

“Well,” she said, “do you want me to act out exactly what we did?”

“Sure.”

She laid down on the bench and began stroking her pussy over her short shorts while I stood over her and looked at her.

“Well, Daddio?”

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to take out your cock and stroke it?  That’s what he did.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did you do?”

“What do you think?  What should a good girl do when she goes to the park and begins masturbating over her shorts and a tall, dark, hung stranger appears pantless ready to fuck?”

“Did you get his digits?”

“All of them.”

“All of them?”

“Yeah, all of them, inside me.”

“Right here?”

“Right here.”

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, confused.

“To a bar.  I need a drink.”

Truth was, it was hot.  I was thirsty.  I was tense.  I was irritated.  I was horny.  And I wasn’t about to start fucking Lola right there in the barely concealed patch of public privacy.

“Wait!” she said.  “I have to change first.”  She spread her legs and showed me the dark spot covering the crotch of her denim shorts where she apparently squirted.

She popped into the public restroom and a moment later, she popped out wearing just her bikini top and a short skirt.

“Wow!” I said.  “You’re like a superhero!”

“Super Squirt!” she pronounced, swinging her shorts around her finger, grabbing me by my arm.

We went to a fancy hotel with a rooftop deck, pool, and bar.  This was a new hotel and the rooftop was pretty high up there and it even had a balcony with a glass floor.

Lo walked out and leaned over the railing and said, “Wow!  Don’t look down!”

“I’m not,” I said, “I’m lookin’ up – lookin’ up your skirt, that is.”  No panties.  No bikini thong.  Nothing.  Just her perfectly shapely and shaved mons pubis.

We then went and sat at the bar where I ordered a Tom Collins.  Lo apologized to the bartender for my unfashionable taste in drinks, saying, “I’m sorry, he’s old.”

The bartender chuckled.

For the middle of the day, on a beautiful beach day, the bar was pretty busy.  But, I guess for the people who live down there, going to the beach every day loses its allure pretty quickly.

Lo asked me, “You want to see what I saw on the bench?”

“Sure,” I said, not knowing where she was going with this.

She pulled out her phone and pulled up a photo of her with her legs spread and a guy with an elephant trunk hanging down from his crotch standing over her.

The old pervert seated next to Lo at the bar – not me, the guy on the other side of her – looked over Lo’s shoulder out of curiosity.

“Nice shot,” he said.

“Not nearly as nice as when he came on me,” retorted Lo without missing a beat.

“Is that so?” asked Mr. Intrusive.

“Yes, that’s so,” said Lo, followed by, “Oh, how rude of me.  HH, this is,” she said, as if introducing an old friend.

“Kip,” he said.

“Kip,” said Lo.  “Kip, HH,” she said, introducing us.

I shook his hand over Lo’s lap and said, “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure,” he said.

He clearly had had a few already.  He wore a festive Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts, sandals.  I’d say he was about 46 and beginning to bald.  A bit overweight.  Genial smile and friendly – midwestern friendly.  Too friendly, you might say.

Lo was in a festive, flirty mood and so she teased and toyed with this guy, telling both him and me what happened with her mystery man down by the beach.

“How very slutty of you,” he said.

“I thought so,” replied Lo proudly.

The guy asked, “Will you be my slut?”

“I’m everyone’s slut.  That’s what being a slut is.”

“I don’t know if you could handle me,” said the guy.

“Why not?” asked Lo, defiantly.

“My cock – it’s pretty big and has a lot of girth,” he said.

Lola pulled out her phone and found a photo of her horse cock dildo.  “This is one of my toys,” she said.  “I can handle any cock.  Any human cock, that is.”

The guy was trying to play it cool, but I could see he was intrigued by Lo’s unabashed candor.

What about Lo?  She was flirting and teasing, but was she actually into him?  I couldn’t tell.

We had a few more drinks and continued chatting.  The fella next to us was married, had adult children, older than Lo, and claimed to be in Miami on business.  But it was Thanksgiving weekend.  Who is in Miami on business?

Lola was waxing rhapsodic about how much she loved Miami – the ocean, the beaches, the restaurants.

The guy interjected, “The orgasms on the boardwalk.”

Lo squirmed in her barstool and pressed her knees together.

She looked at me, embarrassed.  I knew what happened.

I said, “You could say, she cums with the territory,” as I feigned spilling my water.

“That’s the worst pun you ever made,” said Lo as she watched me clean up the mess she made under her stool from her perch.

“Really?  I’m sure I’ve made worse,” I said, looking up at her, hoping she wouldn’t have another accidental squirting orgasm.

“I’m sorry,” Lo apologized to our new friend, “Dad jokes.”

“I’m a dad,” he said, “no need to apologize.”

Along one side of the pool there were semi-private alcoves with recliners made for two.  Lo ordered another drink and suggested we take the one that was recently vacated before someone else got it.  She picked up her bag and casually sauntered to her destination.

Mr. Middleage followed her, leaving me to grab (and pay for) our last round.

When I got to the little cabana, Lo was lying down with her Mr. Marriedman next to her.  I handed Lo her drink and said I was going for a swim.  Her antics were beginning to upset me, if I’m honest.

I got in the warm water and rested up against the side of the pool with my drink in hand, watching Lo and her beau.

She lay with her legs crossed under her skirt.  She removed her bikini top.  The guy ogled her.  They were making small talk.  I could practically read Lo’s lovely lips when she said, “That’s ok, you can touch.”

The guy put his hand on Lo’s hip and slowly caressed her.  Lo turned over and he put his hand down under her skirt and I could see him touch her bum as she took a sip from her straw.

She rolled on her side, showing him her tits and letting her skirt open in front.  She said, “You like what you see?”

He said something I couldn’t make out.

“Are you hard?”

Again, I couldn’t make out the words.

“Jack it,” she commanded.

He pulled a towel over his cargo shorts and reached down.  Lo watched him intently.

She loves being the stimulant for sexually starving strangers, the sweet release for men and women who need a focus for their swirling smut-dreams like a mantra for meditation.

She was speaking softly to him, encouraging him, telling him dirty things about her, probably telling him about how she sucked my cock after letting me have her ass that morning.

His head dropped back and he became rigid for a few seconds before crumpling like a suit having all its starch sucked out in one magic moment.

Lo got up and came into the pool.  Her skirt billowed behind her in the water.  She swam to me and said, “Let’s go, Daddio.”

“Mission accomplished?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.  My mission is to make you cum like that,” she said as she grabbed my cock under the water.

We got out and Lo put her top on, and we walked out, both dripping wet, but she in more ways than one.

She blew a good-bye kiss to the man with the mess in his cargo.

Back at the hotel, Lo could hardly wait.

“Did you like everything today, Daddy?” she asked as she lay naked on the bed.

“Most of it,” I said, thinking it over.

“Let’s take a shower,” she said, just as I got out of my clothes and was very ready and eager to have her.

“What?  Now?”

“Yeah,” she said.  “I got sand in my hoo-ha.”

“What did you say?”

“You know, I’m not interested in any pearls in the ole clam.”

“Only you, darling, only you,” I said, amused at her pornographic poetry.

The shower had a small seat built into the back wall of it.  She sat on it, spread her legs, looked up at me, and said, “Was I a very bad girl today, Daddy?”

“Yes, yes you were.”

“Was I a dirty little slut?”

“Very much so.”

“Are you mad that I let a man cum on me in public?”

“No, darling.”

“Are you mad that I walked around with his cum on my body all day?”

“Proud of your accomplishment?”

“Oh yeah,” she said.

“Am I terribly disgusting?” she asked.

“Not to me,” I said.  I can’t lie.

“Show me, Daddy, that I’m yours,” she said.

I wasn’t sure what she was after.

She reached out and grabbed my cock and held it in her hand.

“You drank a lot at the bar,” she said.

“Not too much.  A few drinks.”

“Have you peed even once today, Daddy?”

Now I knew where she was going.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” she said, a certain neediness in her voice.

I closed my eyes, relaxed, and let go.

She shook her tits and spread her legs wide as I drenched her in the warm stream from her chin down to her twat.

“That’s right, Daddy,” she said, “I’m such a slutty, cum-hungry, whore.”

I looked down at her, dripping wet, and said, “Ah, the Fountain of Youth!”

When I was done, we turned on the warm water and took turns washing and worshipping each other.

When we finally got in bed she said, “Use me, Daddy.  Use me however you want.  Treat me like your little fuck-doll.”

I had her on the bed just like I did in the morning.  I slid in her puss only briefly and then went back to her other hole, filling her from tip to balls.

“Mmmmm, yes.  Hold me down.  I like that.  Slap my ass.  Slap my puss.  Slap me.  Hold me down.  Hurt me.  Make it hurt!  Make me yours again, Daddy.  I’ve been so bad today.  I just want to be yours.  Yours.  Make me stop whoring around town.  Make me good again.  Make me so sore I can’t even walk.  Make me stop searching for cock.  Make me good again.”  She went on like that the entire time I fucked her until I was nearly ready to cum – finally after a full day of teasing and edging, watching her degrade herself for me and for others, in private and in public.  Finally, I was ready to explode with all that pent-up jealousy, desire, rage, ravage, revenge, lust, love, and “Lo!” I called out as I was about to erupt.

She quickly hopped off my rod and spun around, opening her mouth wide and accepting the offering I emitted like a parched nomad in the desert desirous of every last drop of life-giving liquid.  She wrapped her mouth around my cock and sucked, encouraging me to continue cumming until I could stand no more.

I fell down on the bed next to her and immediately lost consciousness, falling into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Thank You Daddy

 

Inveterate Masturbator

It’s almost 9:00 a.m. and Lo hasn’t emerged from the bedroom yet.  I walk into the bedroom and as I open the door I find her lying on the bed, tum down, ass up, in her left hand she holds her phone and she is staring at it intently as her right hand manipulates a dildo in her puss and another in her ass.  She looks up briefly, caught in the act.

“I would join you, but I see you’re full up,” I say snidely.

“You can be next.  Just give me about ten more minutes.”

“You realize, it’s a quarter-to-nine, right?”

She waves me off, resentful of the interruption, concerned about the distraction.

When I walk in again at five-to-nine, she’s already in her tight pants, her pumps, and blouse, ready to go to work.

“What happened to my turn?” I inquire.

“Sorry Daddio, but I only had room for three this morning.”

“What do you mean, room for three?”

“I mean, three orgasms.”

“I didn’t even hear you.”

She shrugs her shoulders and walks into the bathroom to fix her hair.  When she does, I take a surreptitious glance at her phone.  I see that she had made a phone call at 8:47 to Brian.  I guess that’s why she was so quiet.

“You know,” I call to her from the bed, “you’re an inveterate masturbator.”

“What’s ‘inveterate’ mean, Daddy?” she asks in her little-girl voice.

“Chronic, confirmed, hardened, incurable, incorrigible, habitual, unrepentant.”

“Yep, that sounds like me.  I like it: Inveterate Masturbator.  It could be my superhero name.”

“And your superpower would be. . .  making yourself cum?”

“That and the power to make others cum.  You want to cum, Daddio?” she asks teasingly.

“Yes, yes I do!”

“Tell me more.”

“I want to cum.  Isn’t that enough?”

“Tell me how you want to cum,” she says, walking over to me and putting her hand on my crotch.

“I want to cum in you, on you, for you, under you – choose your preposition.”

“Do you want me to tug your cock and jack you off or do you want me to suck it or do you want to fuck my puss or do you want to fuck my ass?”

“Preferably, a little of each, you know, like tapas.”

“Hmmm,” she hums, “I like that.”  Then, abruptly, she turns and walks out of the bedroom.  “Too bad I have to go to work,” she calls over her shoulder.  “I guess you’ll just have to be hard-up for me all day.”

That is too much.  All niceties are off.  “What about your friend?” I call back to her.

“My friend?” she asks as she slips into her heels.

“Yeah, Brian, who you had phone sex with this morning.”

“Daddy,” she says, stopping in her tracks, “you were snooping.”

“Yeah, so.  It doesn’t change the fact.”

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to be really hard-up all day until I get home and have the time to tell you about it.  Kisses,” she says as she puckers up.  I am in no mood to kiss her after that torture.  She waits with her eyes closed.  When she feels nothing on her lips, she opens one eye and then the other.  “Fine,” she says, “if you don’t want to kiss me, I’ll find someone who does.”

With that she walks out the door.

Lo’s Lysistrata

 

“No!” she said.

“Why?” I asked.

“You know very well why,” she said, turning around, standing on her tiptoes and pushing out her naked bum.  “If you want this,” she added, slapping her ass for emphasis, “then you’re going to have to earn it.”

A little backstory here is in order.  We were in a fight.  Lo was upset with me.  She was more than upset with me.  She was furious with me.  I had recently hired a red-headed, buxom, bombshell of a woman to do Public Relations for my business.  The fact that she was a red-headed buxom bombshell was most certainly not the reason I had hired her.  She had an impressive résumé, impeccable credentials, and stellar recommendations.  She had found me via LinkedIn and had offered her services to me at just the time when I was thinking of expanding my business into a new market.  In short, there were very good and eminently rational reasons to hire this woman, none of which had to do with her looks.  But Lo couldn’t get beyond the surface appearance.

“A ruby red Jessica Rabbit?!  Really?  You just had to have a complete set, didn’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, genuinely perplexed.

“Your secretary is a blonde bimbo.”

“She’s not a bimbo.”

“Your PR person is a ginger.  And I’m brunette.  You’ve got all your bases covered.”

“Lo, that has nothing to do with it.  Sheer coincidence.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.  I’m not even attracted to redheads.”

“All three of your previous girlfriends were redheads.”

“Exactly my point.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“All my ex’s are redheads.  I broke up with them.  Clearly red is not my color.”

“Well, no sex for you until you fire her.”

“I can’t just fire her.  That would be a violation of her rights.”

“What about my rights?” she said, thumbing her chest.

“What about them?”

“Don’t I have the right to peace of mind, quiet enjoyment, not to mention, my conjugal rights?”

“Lo, I’m ready to conjugate right now,” I said, pulling out my hard cock.

“Phhhht,” she replied, “Not until Jessica Rabbit is gone.”

Just to be clear, dear reader, the new PR person was not named Jessica, but for the purposes of this story, we’ll stick with Lo’s derogatory name for her.

“I know you’re a jealous woman but. . .” I began, trying to restate my defense.

“What sort of PR professional posts pics of herself in a thong bikini on the beach on her Instagram page?”

“You looked up her Instagram page?”

“Of course I did.  And I know you did too!”

“I most certainly did not.  But can I see?”

That little attempt at humor was definitely ill timed.  Lo put on her panties and work clothes and walked out of the room in her heels as she lifted her right hand to flip me the bird as she slammed the door behind her and called out, “NO SEX FOR YOU!”

I know that Lola wasn’t thinking rationally because what sense does it make for a nymphomaniac to go on a sex strike in order to get her way?  Nonetheless, she was upset.  Very upset.  And somehow I had to make things right.  But I didn’t know how.  Would she eventually come around?  Would I have to dismiss Jessica?  Would they have a knock down drag out cat fight?  Who knows.

One thing I was confident about was that Lo wouldn’t last long with this protest of hers.  How could she?  Unless she was going to go out there and find someone else to bang, which was always a distinct possibility.

Two, then three, then four days (and nights!) went by and she stuck to her guns.  I wasn’t even allowed to sleep in the same bed with her, but I was subjected to her moans and groans of self-pleasure.  A tantalizing torture.

After the fifth day of this cruel and very unusual punishment, I could take no more.  I had come up with a strategy for winning the war.  I put things into place and two days later, Monday afternoon, my secret weapon arrived by mail in a non-descript cardboard box, about the size of a shoebox.  It had my name on it and I purposefully left it out on the dining room table for Lo to ponder like Pandora’s box.

Like clockwork, when Lo got home and saw it she asked, “What’s that?”

“Oh, just something for me that I ordered on-line,” I replied nonchalantly.

“What is it?” she asked again, picking up the box and shaking it.

“Don’t shake it!” I warned.

“Is it fragile?  Is it for me?”

“It’s really none of your concern,” I said, knowing how much that would piss her off.

“What the fuck is it?!  You’d better tell me right now.”

“Calm down,” I said.  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“I’ll find out this instant!” she said, stomping her little foot.

“It’s just. . . just something to help me out.”

“Help you out?  How?  Is it a lifetime supply of Viagra?”

“Darling, I certainly don’t need any E.D. medicines.”

“That’s what you think.”

“But you are on the right track.”

“That’s it, I’m opening it up,” she said, making for the kitchen to get scissors.

She returned and violated the sacred law of the postal service – opening another’s mail.  And when she saw what was inside, she flipped out!  All going to plan.

“Stoya the Destroya Signature Fleshlight!”

“Yes,” I said calmly, talking the box from her hands.  “If you’re going on a sex-strike, then I’ll just have to take matters into my own hands,” I said.

“A surrogate pussy?!  You throw that thing out right now!  I will not stand for it!”

“Then get on your back and spread your legs for me.”

“No.”

“OK then,” I said, turning to leave with my pussy in hand.

“Where are you going?”

“To get laid.”

“The hell you are!”

I walked into the bedroom, removed my clothes, took Stoya’s pussy out of the box, read the extensive instructions and warnings, and began to follow the directions.  I was pleased to see that it came with its own small bottle of lube.

Lo walked in.  (I hadn’t locked the door.)

“You’re really going to fuck that thing?” she asked.

“Care to watch?”  (I knew that she wouldn’t or couldn’t resist.)

She sat on the side of the bed as I stroked lube all over my hard cock.  I then put lube on my fingers and began fingering Stoya.

“What are you doing?” she asked, perplexed.

“The instructions clearly say to lubricate the inside before use.”

“Wouldn’t you rather something that’s naturally wet?” she asked as she removed her panties.  She still had on her heels from work and her black dress.  She spread her legs on the bed and pulled at her pussy lips.

“Of course I would,” I said, “but Stoya is primed and ready for me.”  (I was purposefully being an asshole.)

“I’ve been primed and ready.  Wouldn’t you rather pump this,” she asked as she slipped in a couple of fingers.

“Are you really offering?”

“No.  You can’t have it.  I’m mad at you.”

“OK then,” I said as I penetrated Stoya’s soft and supple pussy.  I had two hands on the casing of the Fleshlight and I was sliding it on and off my cock as Lo fingered her own puss with one hand and then really upped the ante by fingering her ass and saying, “Is Stoya tight?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“As tight as my little ass?”

“I doubt it.”

“Do you want my ass?” she asked, fingering both her holes in front of me as I looked on hungrily.

I continued fucking Stoya, imagining I was fucking Lola.  “You know, there’s a Stoya anal Fleshlight as well,” I said.

“Then fuck that, because you can say goodbye to these!” she retorted as she turned around on the bed so she was lying on her tum, her head propped up by her hands.  I could still see her ass as her dress was flapped up over her waist.  I knew that something Lo loves is seeing guys masturbate.  She frequently requested that I jack it for her and she can never get enough since she can’t both watch me and have me.  That’s why she wants two men at the same time.

I did as she commanded and slid the pussy down and back on my rod.  I could see her grow visibly jealous of the device.

“What?” I said at her displeasure, “You have your Hitachi, your double-ended-dildo, your Remus, your. . .”

“Shut up and cum already,” she said.

“And you’re jealous of me because once, ONCE, in however many years I get a sex toy for myself?!”

“What about your sheath?  Your penis extender?”

“That was for you, not me.”

“Enough dialogue.  Fuck that pussy and cum if you’re gonna cum.”

“If you really want me to cum,” I said, “then hold it for me.”

“You want me to hold Stoya’s pussy so you can fuck her instead of me?”
“Well, are you willing to give me your pussy?”

She reached out and held onto the thick trunk of the sleeve.  I fucked more vigorously.  Her mouth opened.  At the crucial moment, I pulled out and, without warning, ejaculated the money shot all over her delighted face.  She was dripping in my cum when she said, “That. Was. Amazing.”

[p.s. – This installment of mysexlifewithlola was not sponsored by Stoya or Fleshlight, nor are we affiliated with them. (Though we’d love to be!  Hint hint.)