The first customer? Or is it patron? Client? First cummer. That’s it. Anyhow, the first guy on Lo’s Naughty List showed up and gave the special secret knock at the door of the Cum Cube. Lo let him in. The door swung open and Lo was bent over in her diaphanous panties when he entered.
“Fuck me,” was all Lo said. She didn’t want small-talk. She didn’t want to get to know him. Something about anonymous cock was really turning her on that morning. Actually, the idea of anonymous cock had been revving her engines all week in anticipation of this. She loves, loves, loves watching ‘The Milking Table’ vids to get off, as you probably already know. The milking table, glory hole, dogging at night – the one thing they all have in common is anonymous cock.
The Milking Table Porn
Her eagerness for a fast, furious, filthy fuck was shared by the now naked man standing behind her bent over body. He wasted no time and actually ripped off the panties. They presented little resistance since they were mere gossamer-thin lace. Lo was taken aback by the violent opening gambit. She mourned the loss of her panties, but only for a split second. In a split second more, her legs were split as her paramour entered her without hesitation and, on the first thrust, filled her to the hilt! She braced herself by putting her arms straight out in front of her up against the wall and met his forward motion with an equal and opposite backward motion. His firm front slapped up against her round rear and she called out with joy and squealed with delight as he rapidly, repeatedly, and roughly rammed his way to her record-setting climax. She came, gushing all over his rigid rod. But, it was only the first of many for her.
Lola in her see through black panties
Within a few moments, as he continued to be a battering ram barraging her bum with rhythmic, repetitive, roiling thrusts, she went into a dissociative fugue state. This is unlike Lo, since she lives to fuck and fucks to live, she usually is very much in the present moment when penetrated by a long, thick prick. But in this instance, as she braced herself against the steel wall of the Cum Cube and her lock-in lover ravished her, she free associated the cube with a conjugal cell of a prison. She had never actually seen or been in one, but after her excursion to the prison to run an errand for me which turned into a peep-show for my incarcerated client, she had been dreaming of being the go-to girl for the boys (and girls) behind bars.
In her fugue state she was transported to a conjugal room on prison grounds. The man behind her was the biggest, baddest, meanest, inmate of the entire state penitentiary system. He was covered in tattoos on his bulging muscles. He worked out every day to the extreme due to sexual frustration and a surplus of testosterone. In her mind’s fantasy, if he behaved as the wardens wished, he was allowed one conjugal visit a month as a carrot, a bribe if you will, so he wouldn’t beat up or kill other inmates. They allowed him to have one of Lola’s calendars on the wall with a different photo of her for each month. This gave him the inspiration to change his behavior and moderate his extreme temper.
Whoah! Lola felt her actual conjugal guest go right in her rear without so much as giving a warning! After the initial shock, which sent her head spinning, she eased into it and began to enjoy the anal annihilation.
“Will it Hurt?”
Lo returned to her fantasy of the felon. In her imaginings, he had a back-story. He was an extreme survivalist who had lived in the woods. He had an underground lair and whenever he came across hikers or campers, he abducted the females. He kept them in his cave like a harem. He had a large wolf-dog that he let mount the women as they wished. This went on for years until the FBI finally caught up with him and arrested him. They put him on trial but none of the women would testify against him. He was like a cult leader to them. They adored him and voluntarily lived under his protection – some as young as ten or eleven. He was to them something between Charles Manson and Tarzan.
Captivating
In her wild imaginings, Lola was one of the abductees, but she rapidly climbed up the ranks to become his favorite concubine, Queen of the Primal Horde. After he was convicted and sent to prison, he railed against his confinement and pined for Lola. The guards quickly learned that the promise of her pussy was the only thing that would curb his violence.
All the other inmates were forced by the guards to assemble in the small outdoor cages, topped with razor wire, while Lo was escorted past them in her black leather heels, her nylons, her red pencil skirt, her white, cut-off sweater showing a lot of cleavage, and her large, dark sunglasses. She also wore an extremely large, floppy sunhat that drooped over her face to give an added sense of mystery about her for the inmates. They all knew what she was there for and they all lined up to see her when she was done too. They watched as her now ripped nylons dripped with gobs of warm cum and her hair, which had been beautifully and perfectly quaffed, was now messed as if pulled from behind. Rather than walking with a stride and sashay, as she had when she arrived, she now walked gingerly, as if she still felt the pain of that enormous cock up her ass.
Lola in her big red floppy hat. Art by Starlight Cassette
Speaking of which, now her real-life rear rammer was alternating between Lo’s primary and secondary pleasure promenades. (I’ll leave it to you, dear reader, to decide for yourself which is which.) Lola was squirting every time he came out of her V and went to her A. By now there was a large puddle in which she stood, her feet spread wide and partially submerged.
In Lo’s vivid visualization, the prison guards hatched a plan to provide them a fun distraction from the monotony. Seeing how all the inmates cat-called Lo, pressing themselves up against the chain link fence as she passed them by, they arranged to have a boxing match between Lo’s lover and any challenger who thought he could go the distance in the ring with him – no gloves, no protective gear, no rules. The prize – an hour in the conjugal cage with Lola.
The next month and each month afterwards, instead of just rewarding Lo’s beau with the privilege of Lo’s pussy, they made him defend his title and his conjugal prerogative. Thus, he would meet Lo in the fornication station black-and-blue, bloodied, sweat pouring down his face, chest, arm pits, as he burned with fever in his triumphant entrance.
This elaborate transposition of Lo’s current circumstances brought Lo to many more orgasms – so many that she felt she couldn’t stand it. She literally couldn’t stand anymore. And, pent-up with so many months of loneliness, her anonymous associate came too, engorging the condom he wore for their mutual protection. Oh, how Lo dearly wished he could have cum inside her – front or back – and made her a Christmas cream-pie. But on orders of the mayor and Board of Health, that was not to be.