Feedie for a Night

A.I. Lola

“Daddy,” said Lo one morning as I was tying my tie and just about ready to leave for work.

“Yes?”

“Am I free this Friday?”

“Lo, you are always free.  Free and easy.”

“I mean, do we have any plans?”

“Not that I know of.  Why?”

“I have an admirer.”

“You have many admirers, Lo, and I’m your biggest admirer.”

“Depends on your metric for size,” she said.

“What does that mean?”

“You know that I’ve had bigger, right?”

“I wasn’t speaking of my anatomy,” I said.  “I have to go.”

“But Daddy,” she pouted, “I didn’t tell you about Friday yet.”

“Out with it.”

“So bossy.  I like it.  Rrrrrrrrrr.”  She rolled her ‘R’ with her tongue to make a revving sound.

“What is Friday?”

“Well, it seems that your story, ‘A Linguistically Mysterious Voyage into the Unknown’ got the attention of one of my fans.”

“Probably many fans.”

“And this particular fan wants to take me out.”

“On a date?”

“Yes, on a date.”

“Did you vet him first?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“Well, he’s not exactly my type.”

“Lo, everyone who is into you is your type.”

“That’s just what I mean.”

“What?”

“I’m not sure he can get into me.”

“I’m sorry, you lost me.”

“He is morbidly obese and, to make matters worse, he has a tiny penis.”

“You really performed quite the thorough vetting process.”

“Proper research is a must.”

“But you still want to go out with him?”

“He read that story and he said that he has a fetish for feedies.”

“Oh, he’s a chubby chaser.”

“He read about you calling me fat.”

“Is that ‘phat’ with a ‘p-h’ or ‘fat’ with an ‘f’?”

“I don’t know.  You wrote it.”

“Just checking.”

“Anyhow, he said he would simply like to get dinner and a movie.”

“He wants to see you eat?”

“Apparently.”

“And how do you feel about it?”

“You know me.”

“Biblically.  But I’m afraid I don’t know what that means in this context.”

“I’m a ‘trysexual.’  I’ll try anything at least once.”

“So you are willing to indulge this guy’s fetish for feeding you?”

“It’s rare I meet a kink I don’t like.”

“Well, suit yourself then.  Just be safe.”

“OK.  Love you!”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Pet the cat.”

“We don’t have a cat.”

“You know what I mean.  Pet.  The.  Cat,” she said as she patted her pussy with her right hand.

“And then what?”

“Feed the kitty.”

“Feed the kitty?”

She grabbed the double-ended dildo out from her nightstand drawer.

Lo and her Toys

“Oh,” I said, comprehending.  “No work today?”

“I have a Zoom meeting in fifteen minutes?”
“Do you have enough time before the meeting to both pet the cat and feed the kitty?”

“Who said I have to get all that done before the meeting?”
“You’re certainly not going to do it during the meeting?”

“Oh, Daddy!  You have such stodgy standards.”

“Well, just don’t become the next female Jeffry Toobin.”

As I was putting on my shoes, I saw her put on a white, business-attire blouse over her bare breasts.  Her breasts could be seen swinging from side-to-side as she moved.  She grabbed her suction-cup dildo and affixed it to the work chair she had in her special home work station, and she slid her naked bottom down onto the dildo while setting up her computer for the Zoom meeting.

“Have a good day at work,” she said over her shoulder.

“Enjoy your meeting,” I replied, closing the door behind me.

Lo looked forward to Friday with much anticipation.  Her chub-chaser admirer, whom we shall call Mr. Biggs, was quite the control freak.  With each passing day he gave Lo ever greater detailed instructions for how she should dress and prepare for their meeting.

All week long, Lola was popping out to the shops to buy this skirt, that top, these heels, those panties, etc.  Each day when she received a different instruction, description of an item, or photo of specific piece, she’d tell or show me, then she’d go on her scavenger hunt to find said object, bring it home, and try it on for me.  I can’t say that I found any of this objectionable, except that she was taking orders from another man.

Each night she would fantasize about her date while riding me.  She’d articulate out loud her vivid imagining of how it would go.  I’ll elide over these various fantasies since frequently I wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer than, “Then we’d sit down to dinner. . .” before I’d explode inside her and she would have to resort to her Hitachi and her silent imagination to bring herself to a not so silent orgasm.

Finally the Friday date night arrived and Lola put on exactly what Mr. Biggs had ordered – black, patent leather strappy heels, nylon stockings, a short black leather skirt, a white, transparent top, no bra, and a short black leather jacket.  She spent a good amount of time blowing out her silky, shiny black hair, doing her makeup and making sure her manicure and pedicure were perfect.  I was somewhat suspicious of all this preparation.  I mean, she was doing this date as a sort of whimsical frolic – to be another man’s feedie for a night.  But Lo took her role seriously and, no matter the paramour, she aimed to impress.  Was she trying to impress her date, those in the restaurant, or to make me jealous?  She was probably going for all three and I had no doubt she’d succeed.

Lola’s Date Night Outfit, A.I.

Mr. Biggs also aimed to impress.  He spared no expense on his date.  He chose one of the finest restaurants in town – one which had a commanding view of the city’s skyline.  A perk of remaining anonymous as a writer is that when Lo goes on these dates, I am able to keep tabs on her by sitting at the bar without concern that her part-time lover will suspect anything since there is no way I could be recognized as the man on whom Lo is cheating.

I went up the elevator up to the restaurant on the 29th floor first and I walked into the full, but oddly quiet, even staid establishment and took a seat at the bar.  This was an expensive, fancy restaurant where people spoke quietly and politely.  Most of the patrons were over fifty, dressed formally, and not one of them looked like they were having a good time.  It seemed more of a duty or a chore to go through the motions of eating dinner than having a fun night out with one’s partner, or paramour, however the case may be.

I was situated on a stool at the corner of the bar, the better to see wherever my Lo and her date were seated.  I looked around the room and didn’t see Mr. Biggs, whom I would have recognized from his photos that Lo insisted he send prior to agreeing to the date.  He was at least 300 pounds and there was no way he would have simply blended in with the crowd if he was already in the restaurant.  I became worried however, because none of the tables for two were empty or had the little “reserved” card on them.  Where would they sit?  Would I be able to see them?  I saw the elevator doors open and Lola walk up to the hostess, telling her the name for the reservation.

The hostess walked Lola over to a four-top and seated her, saying the rest of her party should be there soon.  Lola looked very much out of place in this stuffy dining room with its fancy China and white linen tablecloths.  Her black leather skirt and matching leather jacket, contrasting with her see-through white t-shirt (no bra), caused her to look like she had walked in from a Harley Davidson biker gang.  I was actually afraid the hostess would turn her away due to the dress code of the joint.  But she didn’t.

Lola sat alone at the table for four.  She was facing me and gave me a little, discrete wink.  I think she was just as confused by the table for four as I was.

Then, all of a sudden, a man shaped like a boulder entered the room.  He was one of the largest humans I had ever set eyes on!  He was dressed nicely – it must have been custom-made clothes – in black pants, a white pressed shirt, and a small blue and pink bow tie.  He wore no jacket over the shirt.  His waste line must have been 60 inches, at least!  He was probably just under six feet tall, with unusually small feet, at least compared with the size of the rest of him.  He looked down at Lola and smiled, politely.  From across the room, I could see that he was sweating on the brow of his bald head.  He sat down.  Now I understood why Lola was seated at a table for four.  He took up nearly the entire side of the table.  He had to move the second chair to the side in order to fit awkwardly.  I thought to myself, how does this guy ever fly on an airplane?  Or any public transport for that matter?  There is not a chair large enough for him!  As it was, I was worried about the structural integrity of the chair he was currently occupying.

A waitress came by and, after a word with Mr. Biggs, she removed the two extra place settings.  She then brought over a bottle of champagne.  At least the guy did his homework and knew Lo’s beverage of choice.  They clinked glasses.  Lola smiled coquettishly at him.  They opened their menus and a brief discussion ensued before he ordered for the two of them.  Lola seemed charmed by him.  Or, at least, she was laying on the charm – smiling seductively with a twinkle in her eye.  She must have found him to be endearing or else she wouldn’t be trying to hard to impress him.

From my vantage point, I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the words hardly mattered.  All the communication was exchanged between glances.  Lo allowed her leather jacket to flap open, revealing her hard nipples through the thin, transparent fabric of her blouse.

Lo, flaunting it. A.I.

The first course was served.  It was a creamy, thick soup.  It was only served to Lo.  Mr. Biggs sipped his champagne and intently watched Lo eat.  She brought the spoon up to her lips and daintily downed the soup.  She could see how enticed Mr. Biggs was by her polite performance and she relished in pushing the envelope.  She took a spoonful of soup and then, after eating it, she licked the spoon with her tongue very erotically.  Mr. Biggs’ eyes opened wide.  I do believe he was salivating at the sight.  I had to remind myself, he’s a feeder.  This is porn to him.

The next course came.  It was arancini balls, with a drizzle of cheese sauce on top.

I didn’t have to hear Lo to be able to read her lovely, lush, red lips saying, “Mmmmm, I love balls.”

Mr. Biggs watched as Lo slowly, indulgently took a bite of each ball from between her index finger and thumb as she used her hands to eat them.  Lo seemed to enjoy putting on the performance.

The third course was the main course – a beautifully creamy beurre blanc sauce over a filet of sole.  I could see by the look on Lo’s face that she was beginning to feel full.  But, nevertheless, she self-sacrificed for her friend’s food fetish fantasy.  Lola ate slowly, “accidentally” (on purpose) dripping a little of the white sauce on her chin.  She had Mr. Biggs eating out of the palm of her hand, even though she was the one doing the eating and mesmerizing him in the process.

She tried to make some small-talk, but he was too enraptured by her ingestion too converse.  Lo gave up on the conversation and continued to seduce by taking satisfaction in the sole.

Mr. Biggs’ abstention from partaking in the meal and his careful observation of Lola didn’t go without notice by the other patrons and the waitress, but that didn’t impinge upon his or Lola’s delight in the scenario.

Lo cleaned her plate, as she felt was the expectation.  This provided a brief interlude before dessert for her to get to know her dinner companion a little better.

“Tell me about you,” said Lo.

“What would you like to know?”

“Well, single, dating, married?”

“Married.”

“Oh, does Mrs. Biggs know you’re on a date with me?”

He chuckled and said, “Absolutely not!”

“Why not?  We’re just having dinner together.  How’s the sex-life?”

“Nonexistent,” he said with a frown.

“Oh no!  Why?”

“Look at me.”

That comment broke Lo’s compassionate heart.

“I’m diabetic, I have high-blood pressure, my circulation is terrible, and, if you haven’t noticed, I’m morbidly obese.”

Lo wanted to say, “And why don’t you have sex?” but she refrained.

“Also,” he continued, “she just gave birth – our first baby – and she’s exhausted, stressed, and has zero libido now.”

“Well, at least you did it once,” said Lo, lighting up.

“It was artificial insemination.”

“No!”  The exclamation escaped Lo’s lips before she knew what she was saying.

“Yes,” he said.  “We just aren’t, well, physically compatible.  I’m over three-hundred pounds and she’s a petite buck-ten.”

“There has to be a way.”

“Nope.  I mean, there was when we first got together.  But then when we wanted to get pregnant, over a year ago, I was already too large for her.  So we got professional help and, actually, that’s how I found you.”

“How’s that?” asked Lo, lighting up now that the topic of conversation had turned towards her.

“I was doing some research on-line about the process and I came across your story, ‘The Master,’ I think it was called.”

“Yeah,” said Lo.  “You came across it?” she asked for clarification.

“Not in that sense.  Well, I mean, later in that sense.”

“Good,” said Lo.

“But I found that story and then I found you and I was like, ‘Wow!  She’s hot!’  And then I saw a post about, what was it? – ‘A Wet Workout and a Wank.’  Was that it?”

“Maybe.”

“Yeah, and you were so sexy in that photo that I knew I had to contact you!”

“I see.”

Just then the waitress brought the dessert for Lola.  But it was also the dessert for Mr. Biggs’ eyes.  They were beaming at the melted chocolate lava cake à la mode that the waitress set between the two of them with two spoons.

“Aren’t you going to have some?” asked Lo, pouting cutely.  She asked not only out of concern for her date, who hadn’t eaten a thing all night, but also because she was beyond full.  She couldn’t imagine eating that entire portion herself!

“Oh no,” he said, “watching you eat is pleasure enough for me.”

Lola wanted this culinary cumfest to be as hot as possible.  She excused herself and went to the bathroom where she removed her t-shirt and returned with only her leather jacket on, unzipped, so that when she moved in just the right way, you could catch a glimpse of her naked breasts.

Flash and feed.

She sat back down at the table, moving in just the right way for Mr. Biggs.

She dug into the lava cake with her spoon and seductively licked the chocolate off of it.  Accidentally, a little of the chocolate lava dripped on her chin.  She went to wipe it off, but he said, “Please – that looks so good.”  Her hand holding the napkin froze midway to her mouth.  She realized that this turned Mr. Biggs on like nothing so far.  Lola put her napkin back on her lap and picked up the spoon.  Slowly, keenly spying Mr. Biggs’ reaction, Lola descended the spoon into the soft cake.  She got a little cake, a little lava, and a little vanilla ice cream on the spoon and raised it to her open mouth where her tongue was prominently placed to receive the helping.  But, at the very last moment as her hand made its slow-motion trajectory toward her parted lips, she diverted the delivery and smeared a large splotch of the sloppy serving around her lips.

Mr. Biggs’ eyes nearly popped right out of his face.  Lola repeated the performance, this time getting it on her chin.

Soon she sat with a goatee of chocolate and vanilla dripping down her neck.

The waitress came over and asked if everything was ok.  Lola looked up at her and smiled, saying, “Just fine.” She caught the waitress gazing down at Lo’s bare chest.

Mr. Biggs, looking to prolong Lola’s humiliation, politely asked for a cup of tea.  Neither Lo nor Mr. Biggs acknowledged the obvious – Lo’s messy mug.  The waitress was confused.  Soon other patrons in the restaurant were staring.  Lo, aware that this was a performance that pleased her paramour, played along, smiling back seductively at the guests who were embarrassed on her behalf.

She continued to smear cake on her face as Mr. Biggs sipped his tea patiently.  Soon it was spread from ear-to-ear.  Mr. Biggs could take no more.  He asked for the check.  He paid and soon the two of them were in the elevator going down.

Lo still wore her dessert on her face and Mr. Biggs said, “May I kiss you?” once the doors of the elevator shut.

“Yes.”

He didn’t so much kiss Lo as greedily lick what he could from her face.  He was in an ecstasy of culinary concupiscent rapture.  As he kissed her face, Lo reached down, under his substantial stomach, and grabbed his crotch.  To her amazement, she felt nothing.  She recalled his comment about high blood pressure.  The elevators arrived at the lobby and the two of them got out.  Both of them had chocolate on their faces now.  They walked through the crowded arcade of shops and restaurants on the ground level until they were in the parking garage.  It was an empty garage and Lola could spot Mr. Biggs’ car right away.  It was the SUV parked in the handicapped spot to the right of the doors.  He clicked the remote and it lit up.  Lola stepped up onto the elevated footstep and hoisted herself in.  Mr. Biggs got into the driver’s side and turned to Lo.  He was breathing heavily.  He continued to kiss her face.

She pulled back.  “You said dinner and a movie.  What movie?”

“Well, we can’t go to my house.  My wife is there.  And I would like to go to a movie with you, but I also want so much more.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I would love a blowjob.  I haven’t had one in ages.”

Lo unzipped his fly and pulled out the little pud that she found hidden in there.  How could this outsized giant have such a below average cock?

“Do you mind if I watch a movie?” he asked.

Lo’s lips were already wrapped around his pud.  She didn’t reply.  He took out his phone.  He began watching all sorts of BBW (Big Beautiful Women) and SSBBW (Super Sized Big Beautiful Women) porn.  Lo’s thick mane was between Mr. Biggs’ legs as he held his phone on the steering wheel and watched the porn in the largely vacant parking garage.  Every once in a while Lo would come up for air, look at the porn, give him a kiss, and then go back down for more.

This continued for quite a while, until, in fact, Lo’s jaw began to get tired.  And then Lo began to get tired.  She had had a full bottle of champagne all to herself at dinner.  Gradually, Lo’s sucking and bobbing slowed until she was merely lying in Mr. Biggs’ lap, reduced to nothing but a cock-warmer as he continued to gluttonously engorge on porn of large women.

Lo had no idea how much time elapsed as she was snoozing in Mr. Biggs’ lap, but the next thing she remembers was feeling his large hands in her hair, gently pushing her face down on his diminutive dick as his hips pushed up.  Up-and-down, in-and-out, he was manipulating her to face-fuck his cock.  Perhaps he found just the right video to engage his libidinous desires.  Perhaps he needed to cum and wanted to bring the night to its ultimate conclusion.  Maybe he found her unconsciously covering his cock to be a real turn-on.  Who knows?  Lo was roused from her slumbers and, though surprised at first, she eventually engaged enthusiastically in the effort until, with much wheezing, quick thrusts, and a few grunts, Mr. Biggs unloaded into Lo’s mouth as she lapped up every stray drop from his small pud.

Lo sat up, her hair disheveled, her mouth dripping with cum and her face covered still in drying chocolate, and she looked at Mr. Biggs.  He did not look well.  He pulled out an inhaler and took a few quick puffs.  He was perspiring.  Lo actually asked if she should call for help.  He assured her he would be ok.

When he finally caught his breath he looked at the clock and said, “Thanks Lo, but I have to be going.  Will we see each other again?”

“I had a good time.  When would you like to get together?”

Lo actually had no intention of seeing him again, but she is always polite.

“Halloween is coming up in two weeks and I have an invite to a very special party.  Perhaps then?”

“Sure,” said Lo as she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  She popped out of the car and pulled out her phone, texting me.  She knew I wasn’t far.  I told her where I was and soon she was in the car with me and she relayed the blow-by-blow to me as we drove home.

Lola was receiving detailed instructions from her paramour who grew more perverted by the pound.  The special Halloween party, he informed Lo, was to be for kinksters only.  All invitees were expected to arrive in an outfit that would be outlandish and sexy at the same time.

Perhaps this does not come as such a great surprise, but Mr. Biggs, in addition to being a chub chaser, was also a total nerd who had a thing for Star Wars.  As a result, the costume he had fixated on for him and Lo was Jabba the Hutt and Princess Leia respectively.  But there would be an interesting twist on the costume.  Instead of it being a pairing of ginormously fat and rail thin, it was ginormously fat and Lo, in the sex slave outfit, proudly parading her prominently rounded rolls.

Lola was worried about this since she was self-conscious of the weight she had gained in the past couple of years.

“Lo,” I said, reassuringly, “you are gorgeous.”

“But. . .”

“No but.  I mean, beautiful butt!  Beautiful big butt – I cannot lie.  Besides, beauty, sex-appeal, the feminine mystique, it’s all about the mind, attitude, confidence, and persona anyway.”

“Slut is a state of mind.”

“Exactly!  I mean, just look at our friend, what’s-her-name.”

“Oh, funloving BBW?”

Funloving BB@

“Yeah, her.  By conventional standards. . .”

“Conventional standards of beauty constructed by men,” Lo interrupted.

“That’s what I was about to say.  By conventional standards she would not be beautiful.”

“Beauty is such a malleable thing.  I mean she might be just what Rubens considered the ideal of femininity.”

“Of course, but I’m not talking about Rubens.  I’m talking about Hugh Hefner, Bob Guccione, Larry Flynt.”

“They defined beauty for a few generations.”

“But look at what’s happening now,” I said, “with content creators like Faye Daniels, Dirty Little Diva Nicole, Chelle Silverstein, and even people like our friends, Samantha Massie, Sara Anne, Jennifer Kincade, and Karla Mott Nowak – they’re all so beautiful in their own ways and people appreciate that today.”

She gave me a sidelong look, revealing her jealousy.  She can sometimes behave just like Tinkerbell with that razor edge of possessiveness.  I knew I was in trouble.

“I mean, no one compares to you, of course.”

Funloving BBW

Believe

Funloving BBW

Moo

Funloving BBW bikini

Funloving BBW

Faye Daniels

Faye Daniels

Faye Daniles

Faye Daniels

Faye Daniels

The glamorous Faye Daniels in Rose Shaped Sunglasses

Faye Daniels and friend

Faye Daniels and friend

Dirty Little Diva Nicole and friends

Chelle Silverstein

Chelle Silverstein and husband Brenden Basil

Hotwife Sara Anne

Hotwife Sara Anne

Sara Anne

Samantha Massie

Samantha Massie

Jennifer Kincade

Jennifer Kincade

Jennifer Kincade

Karla Mott Nowak

Karla Mott Nowak

Karla Mott Nowak

Karla Mott Nowak

Lola’s Lips are Sealed

 

“Lola,” called her sister as Lo was getting dressed, “no panties today.”  Robie sat in the bed and watch Lo as she was reaching into her underwear draw.  This request, or command, was not unusual for Robie to make.  Lo looked at her sister and then moved on to pulling out socks from her top drawer.  She chose white with a pattern of little pairs of red cherries.  She went to her closet and pulled down a white and green dress.  Her pigtails were already neatly tied with green bow ribbons.

“Come here,” said her sister.

Lo walked to the bed, carrying her clothes for the day.

Robie reached into the nightstand next to her side of the bed.  She pulled out a handful of wooden clothespins.  She kept a drawer full of them to spice up sex with her boyfriends and for personal use.  But this time she told Lo to stand before her.

“Spread your legs.”

Lo spread.

Robie took one clothespin at a time in her right hand.  With her left hand she squeezed Lo’s labia together, making the lips bulge, and then she applied the clothespin to the two tightly pressed lips together.  She did this a total of six times, causing tears to form in Lo’s eyes.  Between Lo’s legs a straight line of wooden clothespins hung down, compressing Lo’s vagina together.  Not that Lo needed this at all, but this was Robie’s punishment for Lo’s indiscretion of yesterday when she unconsciously moved her index finger to her pussy and stroked her smooth slit while the three guys fucking Robie looked on with intense interest.

“You are to wear these all day at school.  Only when you get home will you be allowed to remove them.  No.  You will come to me and beg me to remove them for you.  If they fall off, you replace them.  Immediately!”

“Yes, Robie,” said Lo obediently.  The pain was excruciating, but it did not outstrip the secret enjoyment of pleasing her older sister.

Lo slipped into her dress and walked to the kitchen to eat breakfast.  It hurt to walk.  It hurt to sit.  It hurt to stand up.

The pain between her legs while she rode the bus to school nearly made Lo pass out with every jarring bump.

At school she couldn’t concentrate at all.  Her entire mental focus was directed between her legs.  Occasionally, she dropped her right hand down below the desk and up between her legs and flitted her fingers across the tips of the clothespins, making them jiggle.  She was praying that none of them slipped off in the middle of class.

And then it was gym period.  There was absolutely no way she was going to go into the girls’ locker room, remove her dress and put on her tight, white shorts!  Even if she could do that without everyone seeing her clothespins, there was no way she could easily conceal them under the shorts, let alone play volleyball or badminton or whatever the day’s activities were.

 

She went to the gym teacher and said she wasn’t feeling well.  The gym teacher looked at her askance and sent her to the school nurse.

At the nurse’s office, she entered shyly and explained that she wasn’t up to playing in gym.  The nurse went through a series of questions: Stomachache?  Headache?  Fever?  To all of which, Lo responded, “No,” shaking her head and dangling her pigtails.  The nurse took her temperature.  Normal.  The nurse asked her to have a seat and, when Lo sat extremely gingerly on the hard, plastic chair, the nurse asked if the problem was “down there,” pointing between Lo’s legs.  Lo turned a bright red!

School Nurse

The nurse asked to lift up Lo’s dress.  Lo didn’t know what to say.  She acceded to the request.  When the nurse saw the row of wooden clothespins pinching Lo’s pussy lips together, she gasped in horror!  “What is this?!  Who did this to you?  Why are you wearing these?” she asked in rapid succession as she removed the clips.

“Lola, show me.”

Lo was speechless.  She could not turn in her beloved sister.  So she lied.  She said her mother told her to wear them to school.

“Why ever would she do that?” asked the nurse, alarmed, but trying to sound soothing for Lo.  The nurse reached into her drawer and pulled out some ointment.  She put on her rubber gloves and applied the ointment to Lo’s nether region, gently rubbing the moist, cooling gel into Lo’s labia.  Lo liked the feeling and liked the nurse.

Lo tried to speak, but she couldn’t.  She just shrugged her shoulders and asked the nurse to keep rubbing in the ointment.  “It feels good,” she said, totally unaware of how that sounded to the nurse.

The nurse stopped rubbing and told Lo to pull her dress back down, covering her triangle, as the nurse stepped out.  Of course she called the principal.  The administration of the school alerted the authorities.  The Department of Children and Family Services was called and within days a full-fledged investigation was underway.

For years, Lo though that the reason her older sister was sent off to boarding school in Europe was because her father didn’t like Robie’s “slutty” behavior with the boys.  She believed that Robie had been caught with a boy in the house.  She suspected it might be that they feared for Robie in some way.  But she didn’t know that it was because DCFS had discovered the source of Lo’s torment and the Department threatened to take Robie from the family and put her in foster care or a special psychiatric ward.  There was literally no other place for her to go in America to be outside the reach of the authorities and so her parents, in a last-ditch effort to keep Robie in the family, sent her to boarding school abroad, leaving Lo alone and bereft of her sister until, well, you know the rest.

Lola worships her sister Robie

Still Crazy After All These Years!

You might think that the title of this post is referring to HH and me, your beautiful blog bunny, Lola. Well, it’s not. It’s referring to an inspiring older couple, Mr. and Mrs. E, who have a Just For Fans site that is just amazing!

Mr. E is a talented artist, and his talent shows in his photography. Mrs. E is his muse and a beautiful model. Together they are a couple that other kinky couples can admire and hope to inspire.

The Mrs. is a fan of Match, Cinder & Spark!

Here’s my interview with them:

Q: I went through your whole Just For Fans. It looks like you started back in late 2019, but you migrated there from Tumblr. When did you two start with the erotic photography?

A: Mr E: I wanted to show her, how erotic and sexy she was/is… so we played around just for us. Watching the pictures on big TV-screen and having fun.

Mrs E: Very often the shoots lead to passionate fucking sessions.

Mr E.: Around 2015 I discovered tumblr. – that was great, you could post uncensored, had great style, nice Archive. Perfect – We had 85K Followers, when the tumblr purge started. They deleted our blog – with 12K pictures…

Mrs E: He was devastated… we were devastated… than MeWe came along, they also deleted some blogs…

Mr E: Then I was looking for a safe haven… where we could keep the nerds and idiots out. The money (it’s only 1/10 of what we (mostly me !) spend on lingerie…) – One platform we like, but lately problems with the followers counter, is X formerly Twitter…

Mrs E: I love to see the posts on the big TV-screen, also after every shooting…

 

 

 

Q: I was going to say, it looks like you spend a lot on lingerie! Was it a fetish for both of you, or did you both grow into it? Does Mr E ever like to wear the lingerie? (BTW, that’s a BIG turn-on for me – men in panties and nylons, etc.)

A: Mrs E: I always loved lingerie, but Mr E really got me into it…

Mr E: I was always a big fan of stockings and garters and nylons, and for the shoots I was looking for nice stuff… from every business trip she got some pieces…

 

 

Q: I see that Gunter Blum and Roy Stuart are featured in some of your photos. Are they big influences on either of you? Who else is an influence in the photos you take?

A: Mr E – Artistic and aesthetically a lot of artists had an influence on me… photographer: beside the ones you mentioned, are H. Newton, Araki, Knoll and others…

Mrs E: I loved it when he brought the newest LEG SHOW issue home…. great inspiration…

 

 

Q: For Mrs E: I see in some of the photos images of you apparently getting off to other photos of sexy, scantily clad or naked women. Are you into women? More generally, what are your kinks and do you have sex with anyone besides or in addition to Mr.?

I think she’s into Lola Down

A: Mrs E: I have a lot of close female friends, love to look at sexy women, but I’m not into women. We had some experiences with other couples (not really satisfying) and few MMF – one was fine, but from far away… He loves to fantasize about us with another man…

Q: Well, I will admit, I wish it was my photos all over the wall in this beautiful picture! (wallpaper)

A: Mr E: that’s a funny crazy story: coming home from a business, she surprised me with a Paperwall (between a door) covered with this porn collage. It was a Lucky Hole!!!!

Q: Do either of you care to share how it came about and what inspired it? (Squid photo)

A: Mrs E: Mr E loves to cook! Holidays on a Island with a great population of these delicious animals made us fantasize… btw. it was delicate cooked… lol –

Q: Tell me, what are your hopes, dreams, plans for the future with regard to the erotic photography? Do you think you’ll make a book of it?

A: Mr E: We don’t plan to much, as long as we love what we do, we carry on… and yes a book is one of our opportunities… or NFT… but all is vague…

Q: I see in one of the photos, she’s reading “Talk Dirty to Me.” What sort of erotica do you two (or each of you) enjoy? What sort of porn? Do you like to masturbate together or alone or both?

Favorite Erotica? Match, Cinder & Spark

A: Mrs E – I read everything from classic erotic literature to pornographic texts. But I like it best when he reads to me, his dark erotic voice turns me on… I like looking at other women, old Leg Show magazines or artistic pornography. That’s why our favorite go-to erotica has been your Match, Cinder & Spark books! Every now and then we watch porn together, sometimes just as a silent background wallpaper.

Mr E: I am well-educated in pornography. LOL – I’ve always been interested in the history of pornography. As a media person, I’m a porn gourmet, even if I enjoy home cooking now and then. I read a lot, including theoretical writings on pornography, so it was obvious to try to create aesthetic pornography yourself.

Lola: Thank you both for this interview – it was such a turn-on to talk with you and to learn from you!!! We both wish you two the best with your erotic adventures!

Go check out Mr. and Mrs. E at stillcrazyafteralltheseyears on Just For Fans!

Interview with Author, Dominatrix, and F-Girl Emme Witt-Eden

This week our good friend and talented writer, Emme Witt-Eden, a.k.a. “Mysterious Witt,” became a full-fledged author with the publication of her memoir: Confessions of a Middle-Aged F-Girl. (You can read our review here.)

She was generous enough to sit down with us for an interview about the book, writing, marriage, and of course, sex.

Promo for Confessions of a Middle-Aged F-Girl

 

L – Congrats on your new book, Confessions of a Middle-Aged F-Girl! And thank you for letting me (or us – me and my man, H.H.) read it ahead of time to write a review. We loved it! We each devoured it in about three days. When we got together to talk about it, we devoured each other. What a sexy ready. But it’s also so personal – I mean, it is a memoir after all. Since it is a memoir, as opposed to an autobiography, it only portrays a sliver of your life – from the time your marriage fell apart to your emerging as a self-aware, self-confident f-girl. Tell us how you’d characterize yourself in your marriage and before. I mean, in the memoir you say you “claimed” your sexuality, not “reclaimed it,” because you felt like you never actually had it to begin with, but what was your sexuality (real and fantasy life) like before?

EWE – Ha-ha! I wouldn’t characterize myself as a completely self-confident f-girl in my book. I was still suffering from quite a bit of insecurity and was working my way through this throughout the entirety of the book. But I did definitely find myself again through sex, even though I still met with other challenges, such as some bad matches in bed and a guy who totally broke my heart.

But back to the other part of your question. I would say that my sexuality has fluctuated quite a bit throughout my life. I was very prude and full of shame in my younger life, even if I had sex for the first time at 15. I really didn’t enjoy penetration and a lot of it was because I felt like I was doing something bad. I come from a very conservative family and sex was always framed as something that I was giving up to a man who would use me if I wasn’t careful (and prude). And even after I got married, I should still feel shame surrounding sex, because my parents definitely treated their sex life – or what I knew about their sex life – in that way. Sex was something to hide at all costs, they were not going to talk to me about it, and I was not allowed to ask about it. I hate to say, but as I came into my own as a young woman, I suffered quite a bit from the mother wound, meaning my mother had a very negative view of sex, and I, sadly, adopted that.

I only started to open up – sexually speaking – when I became a dominatrix after college (pre-marriage!). But I didn’t see that job as sexual. I thought domming was just about treating men like garbage. (If you’d like to learn more about this era of my life, please read my newsletter The Accidental Dominatrix.) Nevertheless, my job as a pro-domme helped me deal with some of my shame. Little by little, my body image improved, and I started to explore myself sexually. And yet, during that time, I still maintained the belief that I had to keep my body count low or no man would ever want to commit to me. I did not embrace, nor did I completely own my sexuality, in that era, though I was on my way to getting there. This is why I say that I only finally “claimed” my sexuality after I left my first husband, as even when I was working in the sex industry as a dominatrix, I was still quite prude and felt like I was always at the mercy of men whom I let have so much control over me emotionally.

Fortunately, after my divorce, I finally worked through these issues. Finally, I was able to enjoy sex just for sex – and that was incredibly liberating! In that regard, I say that I finally “claimed” my sexuality. I hope that makes sense.

And…. to fully answer your question, I would say that I did have some BDSM fantasies even when I was working as a pro-domme. I had the desire to be dominated, but for the reasons I explained, I wasn’t ever able to experience it in a satisfying way. Back then, kink wasn’t viewed as it is today, as this fun thing that’s pretty benign, just a way to spice up sex. Back then (this was the 90s), kink was seen as a pathology. Though I had kink fantasies, when I would tell my lovers about them, they always thought I had some sort of mental issue. This was extremely painful and I’m very glad that we’re much more open today about the healthy, normal reality of kink.

A little cross-endorsement from Emme Witt-Eden

L – You’ve been in the lifestyle for some time now. As I recall, you used to not show your face in your posts on Medium.com and other social media, but now you do. Does this mean you’re “out” to your friends and family? And, I guess most importantly, does your ex-husband David know about this memoir?

EWE – Yes, you’re right, there was a time when I didn’t show my face because I was very keen on protecting my family from scandal. LOL. But seriously, I have kids whom I wanted to protect. I was also protecting my conservative family from embarrassment and pain. I’ve already been told that I’ve hurt my family. Quite a few of my family members know about my dominatrix past. It’s just so much pressure on me to feel like I’m bringing people so much pain just for exploring and writing about my own sexuality. I know this sounds crazy! But to make everyone happy and to keep the peace I once decided to hide my identity.

Not just that, there’s a part of me that likes privacy. I have a social life with other parents from my kids’ school and I just don’t feel like having to explain some of my life choices to these people. And I think many of us are like this. We have a face we show one set of friends and colleagues and a face we show another. We might have a professional face that we show our workplace friends, but they don’t know what goes on in our bedroom. I’ve happened to have chosen to make a profession out of what goes on in my bedroom and so it’s created this tension. A lot of people are simply not the appropriate recipients of the spicy news of my sex life. So, when they find out about it, I have to first listen to their judgments, and then decide whether we’re going to continue to be friends. This has basically resulted in me having much fewer friends, because, as a rule, people are very close-minded.

A couple of years ago, when I decided to show my face, several things had happened. I realized that I wasn’t going to get ahead in my writing career unless I started revealing what I look like. And when I did, I knew I would lose people. And so I basically had to get to the point where I was so tired of hiding parts of myself that I realized it was better to lose everyone. I’m just not interested in perpetuating the balancing act of ensuring certain people like me by hiding so much of myself. I’m finally ready to own up to who I am and that’s why I started showing my face. Of course, I still write under a pseudonym for now. Part of that is to just protect myself from trolls. It’s a crazy world out there, I’ll tell ya. Oh, and David does know I’ve written about him. He doesn’t care enough about my writing to give a crap, though. God, I’m glad we’re divorced.

L – Are your kids old enough to know about your “alternative” lifestyle? Have you told them or did they find out? Or will you be telling them at some appropriate time?

EWE – My kids still aren’t old enough and it’s really not appropriate for me to talk about it with them. However, my second husband, the man whom I’m currently married to, really applauds the way that I talk about sex with my kids. I’m very open and I talk about sex in a very calm and clinical manner. I don’t clam up and feel shame or tell my kids to stop asking questions. My current husband wasn’t like that with his kids and so he looks at my openness as this wonderful thing. I am able to guide my children as they learn about their sexuality, and I can do this in an open and honest way. And that is the result of the life I’ve led. But when the time is right, when my children older, I will tell them more about my life. I no longer feel shame. I’ve led the life I have because I’m curious and felt like a major part of my humanity was basically off-limits to me because I’m a female. I simply decided to explore those taboo territories. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Emme Witt-Eden

L – In the book you mention taking a creative writing class (and crushing on the professor). Would you workshop your erotic stories in the class, or did you keep it PG for the other students (and the hot professor)?

“Hey Emme, where you going?”
“My creative writing class.”

EWE – Hells no, I never workshopped my erotic stories in class. But I was writing a novel about the implosion of my marriage. It was basically a thinly veiled memoir, and a couple of those chapters did make it into Confessions, though in different form. I published a lot of the other stories under a different account on Medium. Yep, I get around… But no, I have never workshopped my erotic stories, and honestly, even my novelized stories have scandalized people. Sometimes I really hate other writers. I find writers to be the most conservative group of creative people. Musicians and visual artists are so much more chill.

L – What inspired you to turn your shorter works of writing into a book-length memoir?

EWE – Once again, I felt like I could get farther ahead in my career by actually having a book. A book gets people’s attention the way shorter pieces don’t, even though my shorter pieces have been quite lucrative. But writing a book is also a huge risk. If a shorter piece bombs, it’s no big deal, you just write another one. If a book bombs, then you’ve spent quite a while writing it and that sucks. Fingers crossed this project does well.

L – Care to share some of your favorite authors and/or books?

EWE – In the last year, I’ve been reading a lot of Annie Ernaux, Virginie Despentes, and Guadalupe Nettel. In my heart, I’m a literary fiction fanatic. Oh, and Maggie Nelson’s books are the bomb.

L – Care to share some of your favorite erotic authors and/or books and/or porn?

EWE – I like Japanese porn a lot because the actors tend to look like they’re actually enjoying the action, instead of just acting for the camera. American porn is so histrionic with the actors acting so fake, continually looking toward the camera because they know they’re being filmed. It’s obvious it’s a performance, and as a female, that’s a turn-off for me. Men probably don’t notice it, but I do. I’m not sure how you categorize your Match, Cinder & Spark series, but your man, HH, writes some of the best erotica I’ve read! And the photos and art of you are – well, let’s just say “inspiring”!

Emme Witt-Eden getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume V: Shorter Shorts, in public. An author, avid erotica reader, dominatrix, and exhibitionist!

L – I noticed in the memoir that, with all the f-girl shenanigans you got up to, there was no girl-on-girl, anal, bondage, or water sports. You make it very known in the book what you do and don’t like. Are those not on your kinks list or did you grow into them later?

EWE – Oh, there was a little bit of bondage in the first chapter of Confessions. You’ll have to wait for the girl-on-girl action for the new book I’m writing. In terms of anal, that’s not something that I typically engage in as a hookup, so there wasn’t much in this book. Luckily, my current husband is the one who gets to enjoy having his dick up my ass. In terms of water sports, that’s something I explored as a dominatrix but honestly, I’m not really into that.

L – What advice, if any, would you give to young married mothers who are in committed, but rather unstimulating relationships, somewhat like you were in just at the start of the memoir?

EWE – My advice? Well, they committed to this guy for a reason, so they might as well make the best of it. I would advise doing everything they can not to let the passion die. I would schedule date nights and sex. A lot of people don’t like to schedule sex because they think that’s not romantic. Well, this is just the way it is once you get married and have kids. We can no longer drop everything and have sex whenever we want. So schedule sex. Don’t, and watch the passion fizzle away.

Then again, if you’ve tried everything and it’s still not working out, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with considering a divorce. That or an open marriage. Non-monogamy is no longer perceived as the crazy thing it once was, so I think it’s a great way to deal with mismatched libidos

L – Any bucket list goals you hope to achieve this year?

EWE – I really want to get the sequel of this book done!

L – What can we expect from future publications by you?

EWE – You can expect my second book in this series: Confessions of a Middle-Aged F-girl in Costa Rica. And then my third: Diary of a Middle-Aged Sugar Baby.

L – Thanks Emme! We cannot wait to see those books come out as well as a prequel about your time as a dominatrix!!!

You can find Emme Witt-Eden, a.k.a. Mysterious Witt here:

F-girl dating Instagram: @mysterious_witt

Kinky consultant Instagram: @emmewitteden

www.emmewitt.com

Protected: The Phallic Funhouse

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Protected: Reign of Terror

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Protected: Femme-Enfant

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Protected: Sister Sodomy

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Protected: Nymphos Have Needs Too

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below: