[Continued from “Holding on Comes Easy“]

Last I remembered, Lo had engaged in a lengthy session of self-service before falling asleep between Robert and me.  When I woke in the morning, she was sound asleep, her back toward me, and Robert had his hands around her waist.  I was turned toward them, my arm drooped over her side, my hand fondling her breast, and my cock rigid and eager for more attention.

I carefully extricated myself from the bed, found a robe and quietly went to the kitchen to make some coffee.

As I sat down to take my first sip, Lo suddenly appeared in the kitchen wearing one of Roberts t-shirts and nothing else.  She was carrying a bundle of clothes.

“Here,” she said, passing the clothes off to me.

“And a good morning to you too,” I said sarcastically.

“Get dressed.”  They were my clothes.

“What?”

“Get dressed.  You have to get out of here.”

I was perplexed.  “What do you mean I. . .”

“Imogen is still sleeping.  When she wakes up, she can’t find you here.  Remember, she thinks I’m Robert’s girlfriend and you’re just Robert’s friend.  You have to go home.”

“Are we still putting on that little ruse?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, if that’s the case, why don’t I just crawl into bed with Imogen?”

Lo gave me an angry look.

“Ok, Ok,” I said.  “I’ll get dressed and go.”

She gave me a quick peck on the cheek to show her appreciation.  “Don’t worry, Daddy,” she said, “I will make it up to you.”

My cock must have liked her tone because it immediately popped up like a little puppy who just heard the treats bag open.

“Nope, none of that now,” said Lo curtly, before turning tail and returning to the bedroom with Robert.

I dutifully got dressed and went home to shower, have more coffee, and nurse my hangover.

Sometime later I got a call from Lo.  She sounded out of breath.

“Lo?”

Pause.  “Yeah?”

“Are you ok?”

Pause.  “Yeah.”

“Are you at Robert’s?”

Pause.  “Yeah.”

“Are you fucking?”

“Yes, Daddy, he’s behind me, fucking my ass now.  What would you like us to do next?”

 

 

 

I won’t deny that I was titillated by the call, but I was also furious.  I was home, hard-up and hungover, while she was being banged by her backdoor man.

“I want you to tell me you love me.”

Long pause.  “I – I – I love you, Daddy,” I heard.

I put the phone down for a moment and hurriedly grabbed my Stoya Fleshlight, some lube, and picked up the phone again.  Lo was screaming.  I could hear Robert smacking her ass.

“Daddy, I love you,” she repeated.

I slid the prosthetic vagina down on my cock.  I held the phone with my left hand and slid the contraption up and down with my right.  I listened to Lo getting fucked.  She was calling out, “Harder.  Harder.  Deeper.  Cum in my ass.  Cum deep in my ass.”  As she was saying that, I thought of how Robert came in her mouth after fucking her ass yesterday.

“Daddy,” she said into the phone, “I want him to cum in my ass.  Do you want him to cum in my ass too?”

My eyes were shut.  I was vividly imagining her bent over his dresser, Robert behind her, looking at her tits swinging in the mirror as he fucked her from behind.  I pictured her left hand holding the phone to her ear and her right hand moving back to her ass, pulling her right cheek to spread as wide as she could go for him to bury his long dick in her bum.  Maybe she was fingering her hole as well.

I heard her ramping up, going into the overture to her orgasm.

I slid Stoya’s cunt up and down more vigorously and I could feel my cuckolded cum rising to the surface.  Lo launched into her operatic aria and I could hold out no longer.  I came and came deep inside Stoya as Robert came deep inside Lola.

A perfect triple play!

After we all were able to bask in the beauty of the trifecta, Lo stayed on the phone with me as Robert went to clean up.

“Did you like that, Daddy?” she asked.

“You.  Are.  Amazing,” was all I could say.

“Do you like seeing him make me cum, Daddy?”

“I didn’t see you,” I said, confused.

“I meant yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said.  “You’re a dirty, dirty girl.”

“Am I bad?”

I changed the topic, fearing she’d get all riled up again.  “Is Imogen still there?” I asked.

“Oh her?  No.  She woke up, I think a little embarrassed and very hungover, and we called her a cab.  She only had fragments of memory from last night, but she asked me to say something nice to you.”

“Oh, and what was that?”

“She really just said, ‘Say something nice to him.’”

I laughed and she did too.  Apparently all was forgiven.  Nothing absolves me of my transgressions like Lola’s seducing men to sodomize her.