Author Archives: Lola Down

About Lola Down

Just your everyday nymphomaniac next door.

Compersion Perversion

Posted on by
2

[As published in the October issue of Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine, Lola goes on a date with MILF Meri.]

Lo Casually Masturbating

It was a Thursday.  I was at the office.  All alone again.  During this pandemic and sweltering heatwaves of the summer, working from the office alone actually provided both cool central air (as opposed to our poorly air conditioned apartment) and much valued quiet, alone time, conducive to creativity and, if necessary, work.  Ms. Gale was working from home.  My other employees were working remotely as well.  I was under the impression that Lo, too, was working from home.  That is, until I received an email from her.

It’s unusual for me to get an email from Lo.  Text, phone call, even the unexpected in-person appearance for a booty-call are all to be expected.  But rarely an email.  Unless something is wrong, or the landlady has written to her demanding the rent, asking for a favor, or passing along complaints from the neighbors about the volume levels, frequency, and inconvenient late hours of Lo’s orgasmic operatic arias.

But this email was different.

“Guess where I am,” it read, enigmatically.

“At home, doing work,” I replied, unimaginatively.

“Nope.”

“Is this Twenty Questions, or can I just ask, where are you?”

“I’m in the park.”

It was another sunny, hot as hell day in the city.

“OK.” I wrote back.

“I have my computer.  I’m ‘working remotely’ from here.  That’s why I’m using my email.”

“Why do you put ‘working remotely’ in quotes?”

“Guess who I’m with.”

“Bill Murray.”

“No silly!  Meri!!!”

“Oh, that’s why you put ‘working remotely’ in quotes.”

“Yeah.  She wrote to me this morning and said that she told her husband she can’t take being cooped up in the house with the kids any longer.  She’s going to the park to get away and work.  But she had invited me and so we’re both here, pretending to work, but doing a lot more suntanning than working.”

“Which park?” I asked.

“Guess.”

“Lo,” I wrote, in the tone of voice I take with her when she’s being naughty, “I actually have work to do.”  These multiple, terse emails were not conducive to getting anything done.

“Fine,” she replied, “the park next to your office.”

My office faces out onto the street, but my employee’s office, in the back of the building, looks out onto a small oval park in the midst of the other businesses.

“Do you want to come by the window and see what I’m wearing, or not wearing?”

How could I resist?

I walked across the reception room area where Ms. Gale has her desk, into the back office.  I glanced out the window and sure enough I saw my little Lo, ass up, her computer in front of her, her admirer behind her, seated about ten feet away.  There were streets hemming in the small sward, but full sun upon my nymph and her MILF.

Allow me to paint the scene for you.  Unlike the last time these two met in the park, this time Lo came prepared to bask in the sun.  She was lying on her tum, her legs bent at the knee and her feet dangling in the air.  She had her computer in front of her.

Behind her, sitting in a beach chair, was Meri, watching.  She sat, ostensibly reading a book, but she was really just spying on Lo.  The way the two of them were in relation to each other, it did not appear that they were together or knew one another.  And I was spying on both of them.  I don’t know if Lo or anyone could see me watching from above.  If Lo noticed my presence, she made no sign of it.

Lo was wearing nothing but a very tiny bikini top and a pink thong bikini bottom.  It literally was no more than a spaghetti strap covering basically none of her ass.  I was familiar with it because she had bought it on sale last fall and was so eager to wear it that she tried it on for me at home, pretending to be on the beach showing off.  A fun little game for both of us!

Lo’s Thong Askew

It wrapped around from her crotch and, when placed just so, concealed only the bare essentials of her letter ‘i’ – if you know what I mean.  From a distance, it looked as if she was wearing nothing at all on the bottom.  And I was not the only one to think that.  Sitting around the two of them on the shaded park benches were old ladies and moms with strollers and the occasional businessman out for air or a stolen glance of Lo’s delectable derrière.  I could tell that the lecherous men interspersed with a few lascivious women were all trying their utmost best to give the appearance of doing something, anything else besides what they were doing – watching Lo.  It takes one to know one, I thought.

Lo was keenly aware of her audience, but she was performing for only one.  Meri, for her part, sat slightly askew to Lo.  She wore heels, a pink skirt that stopped just short of her knees, and a grey tank-top that accentuated her large breasts, revealing lots of cleavage and that she was wearing no bra.  She wore a baseball cap and dark sunglasses in addition to her mask, as if she were a movie star trying to stay incognito.

Lo’s performance was exquisite.  Every once in a while she would reach back behind her and ‘adjust’ her bikini bottom, as if it was riding up her ass uncomfortably.  She would pull at it so nothing was concealed, at least not to Meri, and then let it go again with an audible snap.  Occasionally she would put sunscreen in her hand and run her index finger from her pussy over her balloon knot, as if to insure that those delicate parts wouldn’t burn.

From my vantagepoint, I couldn’t help but think that the sun shines from 94 million miles away for one reason only: to illuminate, warm, and tan Lo’s perfectly spherical double-orbed bronzed rear.  It was as if Helios himself was looking down intently upon Lo’s sexy little ass and the oppressive, powerful rays of light were his enormous erection aching to feel the pleasure of that posterior, but burning hotter because infinitely frustrated by the impossibility of a non-material substance’s concupiscence being quenched by the corporeal object of its affection.

Lo pretended to be oblivious to it all, typing away on her computer as if deeply engrossed by her work emails.

Even in my airconditioned office, I was growing warm from the sight.  Since no one is allowed to come to my office due to the pandemic, I don’t even bother putting on a suit anymore.  It’s strictly t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops for me this summer.  That’s not my office attire, that’s my everything attire.

I also was growing hard in my khaki shorts.  Seeing Lo nearly nude in the middle of the pedestrian and otherwise non-nude plaza, literally the center of attention in the circle of voyeurs, and me, up there, voyeuristically observing from on high, with who-knows-how-many-others lurking in the windows, was appealing to my compersion perversion.

Just when I thought the scene could not get any better, an older gentleman (I use the term loosely) wearing slacks and a button-down sky-blue casual long-sleeve shirt walked over the green grass directly towards Lo.  He squatted down to talk to her.  She turned her head toward him and then rolled over on her back, propping herself up with her elbows.  Then, for the first time I saw that she had on the bikini top with adjustable cups and she had adjusted them to a very narrow setting, exposing most of her breasts, her side-boobs bulging out.

She looked up at the man and struck up a conversation with him.  I could see practically her entire chest falling out from where I sat and I’m sure that that man had a close-up view of it.  I could see Lo smiling at him in her flirtatious way as he continued to engage her in whatever small talk they were pursuing.

I’m sure this gave Lo the triple pleasure of teasing the man while simultaneously making Meri jealous and me mad with admiration of her hotwife hospitality.  I could see Lo glance from her interlocutor to Meri, making sure that the latter was catching it all.  And I could see Meri watching with great interest.

As Lo continued to talk to the man, she seemingly absentmindedly spread her legs, revealing the tiny triangle of material covering her smooth mons pubis, and she thoughtlessly placed her hand down there as if adjusting the bathing suit or scratching an itch.  This allowed Meri a direct line of sight into Lo’s labial lodestar.

I guess Lo’s male conversationalist eventually ran out of things to say.  I saw him pass Lo something that looked like a business card and then say his adieu.  He walked away and I saw Lo smile like the scapegrace she is at Meri and Meri smiled back.  They were like two schoolgirls pulling one over the teacher.

Lo reached down between her legs and quickly pulled back the bikini bottoms for Meri to get an unobstructed view for a brief moment of bliss.  In return, Meri spread her legs and, though I couldn’t see it, flashed Lo a glimpse of her crotch, unadorned by any panties.  (I did later confirm this with Lo.)

From my perch I could comfortably enjoy all of the sexual psychological angles: between Lo and Meri; the older women on the periphery and Lo; the younger women on the sidelines and Lo, the men and Lo; as well as Lo’s basking in the attention of all of them just as she basked in the bright sunlight as if it were her spotlight on the stage.

HH – Hot & Hard

The psycho-sexual dynamics had me rock hard in my shorts and just as I was contemplating relieving the tension, I heard the faint sound of keys and then the turning of the lock on the office door.  Before I could scramble to see who was there (especially when no one was supposed to be there), in walked Ms. Gale wearing denim shorts and a gingham button down shirt, tied up in the middle to reveal her midriff.  It covered only her shoulders and breasts, though it was unbuttoned enough to reveal much cleavage.

“Ms. Gale?” I almost shouted in shock.

“Mr. H?!” she shot back.

I was keenly aware that I had a huge erection in my shorts and that Lo and her special lady friend were frolicking outside the window by which I sat.

“Why are you here?” we both asked simultaneously.

“This is my office,” I said, authoritatively.  Though, actually, I wasn’t in my office.

“I thought you put on the calendar that you were on vacation this week.”

“Oh, I had, that’s true,” I said, “but COVID put an end to our travel plans.  So, here I am.  And you?”

“It was too hot in my apartment to work.  I only have one window unit and with the temperatures in the hundreds, it doesn’t get much colder than about eighty-seven.  I just couldn’t take it anymore.  I thought that, since you were away, I’d work in the office and utilize the central air.”

“I see,” I said, still too hard to stand up.

“Why aren’t you in your office?” she asked.

“Well, I, uh,” I stumbled for a plausible answer.  “I got bored of the view,” I said.

“Oh, is the view from that window better?  I thought it just looked out onto the park,” she said as she moved toward the window to look out.  I desperately didn’t want her to do that!

She did and we both looked outside.  To my great surprise, there was no sign of Lo and Meri!!!

“It’s just a different view,” I said casually.

She looked out the window, bending over, displaying her round rear to me in the tight shorts.

“You like the view?” she asked, enigmatically.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.  “I rarely see it like this,” I said, looking at her ass.

“I’m glad you like it,” she said.  “You should take more time to smell the roses.  You’re always working,” she added as she returned to standing in front of me.  Little does she know that more often than not, when she thinks I’m assiduously working on a legal brief, I’m actually writing this torrid encomium to Lola.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” I said like a judge.  “But for now, I’ll let you have the office to yourself.  You know, we must be socially distant.”  I said it as if I were explaining to her that we need to be sexually distant.

“You don’t have to go,” she said.  “I mean, you could just work in a separate office.  I don’t mean to push you out.”

I was eager to catch up with Lola.

I put away the files I had been working on before Lo’s email and headed toward where I thought I’d find Lo and Meri.  Five minutes into my walk, I was already drenched in sweat.  I felt like I was suffocating due to the high temperatures and humidity.  Making matters worse, I had to wear that asphyxiating mask!  But I was determined.

I walked up the busy street from my office and was about to despair of my loss, but then I spied the two women sitting in front of the ice cream shop.  They each were seductively eating their treats from cups.  I took a seat not too far away from my nymph.  I didn’t worry about being discovered.  I had on dark sunglasses and my bandana mask.  Very little of my face could be seen and, as an added benefit, Meri had never met me.  To the best of my knowledge, she had no idea what I looked like.

The two of them were engrossed in conversation.  I watched for as long as I could, but the sun was baking me.  Eventually, convinced that I wasn’t missing anything of great import, I decided to return home, take a cool shower, and await Lo’s return.

I was on the couch in the living room when I heard the front door abruptly open and close.  I heard Lo scamper down the hall to the bedroom and master bath.  She too hopped in the shower first thing, but not to engage in the usual self-pleasure that she frequently enjoys in there.  No, it was a quick rinse and then, from the living room I heard her masturbatory moans.

I quietly walked down the hall.  The AC was on in the bedroom and so Lo didn’t hear me.  I slowly opened the bedroom door and couldn’t believe my eyes!  Instead of pounding her pussy with a dildo of enormous magnitude, she was sliding my Stoya Fleshlight up and down her lower lips, pressing Stoya’s labia into her own, dripping her wetness all over the prosthetic pussy.  Her eyes were closed and with her free hand she was plucking her nipples.

“Lo,” I said in a gentle tone.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” she screamed as she jumped a mile.  “What the hell are you doing home?!”  It was almost an accusation.

“I’m sorry, Darling,” I said before explaining the surprise visit by Ms. Gale and then asking her, “What the hell are you doing with my Fleshlight?”

“I hate the COVID bullshit!” she lamented.  “I want a pussy.  I want Meri’s pussy.  I want to fuck someone who is not you.  No offence,” she said after realizing what she had said.  “I just want. . .”

“No offence taken,” I said sarcastically.  “How could that possibly be offensive?”

“You know what I mean.  Of course I want to fuck you too, but I also want to be able to fuck others as well.”

“You have,” I reminded her.  “The brothers.  Remember?”

Stoya Licking her own Pussy

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, putting Stoya back on her cunt.  “That’s for them, not for me.  They’re young men, full of testosterone and they need my sweet release, especially in this pandemic.  I spread my legs, they slip in my honeypot and unload.  That’s all for them.”

“Oh, you get nothing out of it?” I asked sarcastically.  “You’re just a simple orgasm donor?”

She laughed, “I get something out of it.  I mean, I cum, yes.  And it pleases me to be their goto girl, their flesh-and-blood Fleshlight.  I won’t deny, that turns me on.  I like being their easy access.  Their cum dump.  The thought of guys’ balls aching for my cunt and unloading into me because I can provide for them what they so desperately need is an incredible turn-on.  But I want a woman.  I want someone who will take time to pleasure me, give me what I want, know what I want.  Not just ram it in deep and hard to prove how big and strong they are.  I want Meri.”

She returned to sliding and pressing the Fleshlight’s lithe labia up against her own swollen and supple lips, causing a suction sound as her own secretions lubricated the point of contact.  She reached down with her free hand and began circling her clit with her index finger.  She did all this as if I wasn’t even there.  Oblivious to me and all else but her imagination and the feel of her pussy slip-sliding against another pussy, she was soon squirting a stream of climactic juices directly into the parted prosthetic pussy.  The receptacle, upside down, simply dribbled out the contents back onto and into Lo’s already soaked and dilated source.

She took a few deep breaths.  I stood silently awaiting her command, request, or even insinuation to fill her with my meat.  But, instead she reached for her phone.  She made a call and said, “Hi.  Yeah.  Another leak.  Can you come over and fix it right away?”

She turned to me and asked, “Will you let them in?”

“Who?”

Then the doorbell rang.

I walked down the hall and admitted the two brothers.  It was the same uncomfortable silence between us as it had been before.  Merely sheepish grins and a little nod of the head as they walked toward their destination.  They no longer needed to be shown the way.

They walked into the bedroom, saw Lola splayed out on the bed naked, Fleshlight beside her body, sheets soaked, and they immediately dropped their pants.  They didn’t even bother to take off their shoes or their shirts.  Kids these days.

Lola: “Fuck me.”

“Fill me, fuck me, pump me, pound me, use me, abuse me, whip me, worship me,” said Lo, spreading her legs further, bending her knees and slapping her cum-slathered pussy.

One of the boys pulled her to the edge of the bed and penetrated her.  She briefly looked up at me, her head upside-down, from the bed, before her eyes rolled back.  The boy was rock hard and eager.  His brother stood by the bed watching, cock in hand, stroking, and patient.  Within moments, the first reached his climax inside her.

Pulling out, he stepped aside for his brother to have his chance.  Lo rolled over onto her hands and knees, raising her ass for him to have her.  He easily slid into her soaking holes.  I saw her wince just a little as he entered the tighter of the two.  But soon he was alternating back-and-forth at whim.  Now the other brother watched and, to my amazement, grew hard as he did so.  What amazing recovery time!

Lola: “Fill me.”

After the more active brother drove his point home in Lo’s rear, he pulled out and they both watched as Lo oozed, cooed, and creamed.

Then the first returned to the pole position.

I could see that Lo, by this point, was almost bored.  Her head was resting on her hands and she looked up at me, unconcerned about what was happening beyond her shoulders.

“Daddio,” she said, “will you pass me my phone?”

Her phone was on her nightstand on the other side of the bed, by the boys.  I walked around the bed, past the brother who was slamming his shaft deep into my hotwife’s pussy at the time, past the other brother who was eagerly awaiting his chance for another deep dive in her, and grabbed the phone.  I walked back around to the side of the bed by the door and passed it to Lo.

She pressed some buttons, preoccupied with the phone and not at all occupied with the activities behind her, and looked up at me again.  “If I order a pizza, what would you like on it?” she asked in a quiet voice, as if the boys and her bum were in another room and she didn’t want to disturb them.

It seemed a most unusual question for the moment.  I must have looked puzzled.  “I’m hungry,” she added by way of explanation.

“Mushrooms and onions,” I said unthinkingly.

“Oh, hi,” Lo said into her phone.  At the very same time, the first brother finished, ejaculating in long shots on Lo’s back.  I guess Lo was put on hold briefly because she was quiet for a moment.

The second brother asked Lo, “Do you want more?”  He was clearly confused by Lo’s phone call.

Lo turned her head over her shoulder and said, “Go ahead.  You can have it.  Try to be quick.”

I heard a voice from the phone ask, “Yes, can I help you?”

Lo’s attention was back to her pizza order as the boy behind her grabbed her hips and pulled them towards his erect phallus.  “Yeah, could I get one sausage pizza and one with onions and mushrooms?”

Lo Placing an Order for Pizza

The boy behind her returned to his favorite alternating ass/puss, ass/puss plunging.  I could see him spreading her cheeks with both hands as he pulled out and pressed in.

“Medium,” said Lo into the phone and then looking up at me she asked, “Medium big enough for you?”

I nodded.

“Yeah, two mediums,” she said into the phone again.  “OK.  Yes.  Delivery please.  Great.  Thank you.”  She hung up and put the phone by her side.

Allowing her head to fall into the pillow, she reached back and pulled her ass cheeks apart, allowing her paramour to use his hands in other ways.  He reached under her and grabbed her doughy tum and squeezed.

“You going to cum?” Lo asked.

He grunted.

I guess she could feel him building.  “Come on.  You got two in you, don’t you?  You like my ass?  You like it,” she said.  She moved her fingers to her ass and felt him sliding in and out of her.  He was ready.  She was giving him a hand-job as he entered and exited her posterior.  Lo’s instincts kicked in and she turned abruptly and opened her mouth to receive his fill.  He grabbed his cock with one hand and her head with the other, pulling her mouth onto his shaft.  He began to cum and then pulled out of her mouth and sprayed the rest on her face.  She was drenched.

She looked up at him and asked, “Feeling better?”

The first brother already had his pants on.  The second, who had just finished, reached down to pull up his from around his ankles.

“Thanks Lo,” he said.

“Say hi to your mom,” Lo said.

“Enjoy your dinner,” he replied.

They let themselves out.

Lo fell backwards and, lying on the bed, she looked up at me and asked, “Will you get the pizza and tip the delivery guy?”

“Maybe you should.”

She contemplated that idea.  “Like I am?”

“Exactly.”

Lola Filled, but not full

When the bell rang, she walked to the door, dripping from the boys’ icing on her face and shoulders, and, opening the door, took the two pizzas in hand and gave a few dollars in tip.

I awaited her return in the dining room.

“What was his reaction?” I asked as she placed the pizzas on the table.

She laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“It was a woman.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“What was her reaction?”

“A cross between shock and disgust.”

“Too bad.”

“Why?”

“I thought you were going for shock, awe, and arousal.”

“I’ll take disgust.”

She grabbed a slice of pizza.  No plate.  She didn’t even sit down.  She stood by the table, naked, and ate it with fervor.  “Sorry, Daddy,” she said, mouth full.

“Sorry for what?”

“What I said before.  You understand, though, don’t you?”

“Yes Lo,” I said, sincerely, not sarcastically.  I felt love, compassion, and patience.  “But,” I added, “you need to clean up Stoya and the sheets.”

“I will,” she said, obediently.

I had a slice of pizza and cracked open a beer.

“Is there a reason you had the boys rather than me?” I finally asked.

“Yes,” she said, with no explanation.  She continued eating.

“Care to enlighten me?”

“I like to be used.”

“You didn’t even cum.”

“No, because I wanted Meri.  But, I’ll cum later to the thought of them and this afternoon.”

“With me or without me?”

“If you’re lucky, both.”

After dinner, she strutted to the bedroom to clean up.  I followed.

“What a mess!” she said at the sight.  “Isn’t it wonderful?!”  She dove into the bed.  “It smells like sex.”

“Just like you,” I said sarcastically.

When she got up to strip (the bed that is, since she already was naked as the day she was born) I asked her, “Who was that man talking to you in the park?”

“Oh, him?”

“Yeah, him.”

“Just a creep.  He just wanted a closer look at me.”

“You sure gave it to him.”

“You saw?” she asked, flattered that I took in her stunning act.

“Yes, I saw.  What did he give you?”

“His business card.”

“What sort of business is he in?”

“He says he’s a photographer and he asked if I would be interested in any boudoir photography done of me.”

“Really?  Where’s his card?”

She bent over by the side of the bed and dug through her little beach bag.  “Here it is.”

She gave it to me.

“I see,” I said, reading it.  “You going to take him up on it?”

“I don’t know.  Do you want me to?”

“Let me think about it.  Did you and Meri have a good time?”

“What do you think?”

“I think she’s at home doing exactly what you just did.”

“Eating pizza?”

 

Bleach Bum

Posted on by
Reply

Lola, Image by Julie Hill

Lo’s date with MILF Meri was Easter Sunday.  By Lo’s account, both of them had a great time and were eager to make the magic happen again.  But then, inexplicably, Meri ghosted Lo.  No response to email, nothing.

“I think she might be having randy remorse,” said Lo one morning while we were pondering the odd disappearance.

“What the hell is ‘randy remorse’?”

“You know – she was all randy to have a lesbian encounter.  She did it.  It was hot.  But she has a husband, three sons, a conventional, bougie, suburban, soccer-mom lifestyle to maintain.  She can’t fuck that all up for a little labial action.”

“Don’t you think that that’s a tad narrow-minded?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I don’t mean her lack of follow-up.  I mean your explanation.”

“What?”

“In this day and age, women aren’t as boxed in as you make it sound.  I mean, a lot of couples are open to the wife playing around, especially with someone like you.”

“What does that mean, ‘someone like me’?”

“I just mean, younger, already in a relationship and therefore not clingy or a threat to the Stepford Wife, picture-perfect, wholesome family-Christmas-letter lifestyle.”

“So I’m just a Manic Pixie Dream Girl to her?”

“Precisely.”

“I think you’re making her situation out to be too simplistic.  You have no idea what the family dynamics are, what pressures she may feel, or her reasons for dropping me.”

“And neither do you.  So why should we keep speculating about it?”

We let it go and, other than Lo occasionally recounting her one sexcapade with MILF Meri while masturbating or copulating with me, she was all but forgotten.

Until one day during quarantine.

“Lo, I just wanted to check in on you and make sure you’re ok.”

That was it.  A one sentence, no explanation, wellness-check email from Meri.

Lo wrote back and tactfully, without accusation or spite, inquired why it had been so long since she had last heard from Meri.

Instead of responding immediately, it was over a week before Lo received a terse email in return.

“It’s complicated,” was the enigmatic reply.  “I’ll write more later.”

Again, another week elapsed before Lo got the following email:

 

Dear Lo,

 

I’m sorry I never followed up with you after we met last Easter.  Believe me, you were on my mind constantly.  However, I was feeling guilty about the circumstances of how we met.  I know you thought I was just responding to your ad, but it’s more complicated than that.  Can we meet in person to talk about it?

 

Meri

 

“Guilty about the circumstances of how we met?” said Lo to me, perplexed.

“Will you meet with her?”

“I have to.”

“What do you mean, you have to?”

“Don’t you want to know the answer to this mystery?”

“I suppose.”

The following weekend Lo dolled herself up.  It felt like a uniquely special occasion since, during the COVID crisis, Lo hadn’t had much reason to dress the part.  Indeed, as she chose and then dismissed various outfits, that’s exactly what it felt like – like she was an actress choosing the right outfit for a role.  This day she was going for the ‘innocent little college student’ role.  After many attempts at the right combination, she settled on a short skirt, no panties, a white knit sweater, no bra, and her cute little pumps.  I realized, maybe not quite for the first time, that Lo enjoys the theatrics of her dates as much as the action.

“Good luck, Love,” I said as she was breezing out the door.

“Luck?  I don’t need luck when I got this,” she said as she lifted the back of her skirt to reveal her bare ass.

“That’s true,” was all I could say as I etched the image on my brain.  “Remember,” I called to her as she walked away, “social distancing!”

Later that day, Lo strolled up the street back toward our apartment as I sat outside reading a book and drinking a G&T in the front yard.  I soaked in the way she perfected the picture before me as she sauntered on the sidewalk, the incarnation of summertime: bright, cheerful, without a care in the world, lackadaisical, unhurried, and delighting in being enjoyed by those she passed by.

She stopped before me.  “Hi,” she said with a big grin on her face.

“Hi,” I repeated back to her.

“Want to fuck?” she said, getting to the point.

“Am I breathing?”

We went right into the bedroom.  She bent over the bed, lifted up her skirt and I slid right into her wet and willing pussy.

It took a few thrusts before she was ready to recall for me her socially-distant-dalliance with MILF Meri, but I knew she’d come around after she had cum around two or three times.

I pulled out of her dripping hot hole and, still hard up, was lying on the bed, panting as I sweat, despite the AC blasting.

“You ok, ole man?”

“Don’t worry about me,” I said, “I’ve got lots more loving left in me.  But let’s take a little break and you can tell me why, exactly, you’re so needy.”

“But Daddy,” she said, batting her eyelashes at me, “I’m always needy.  I’m a nympho, remember?”

“Cut to the story, Lo.  I can see you aching to regale me with your reverie.”

“OK,” she said.  “Lie back and I’ll tell you.”

She was sitting naked on the bed next to me.  Her legs were crossed under her and she gently stroked my wet, rigid manhood as she spoke.

“Close your eyes,” she instructed.

I obeyed.

I felt her lips ease down my shaft.

“Lo, you can’t tell me what happened with a mouthful of my cock.”

“I know, Daddy,” she said after pulling up and releasing me.  “I just wanted a taste.”

“Of a woman?”

“Of me.  Now listen with your eyes closed.”

She then told me the following:

 

 

We met at the park by the river.  She was already there when I arrived.  It was crowded.  A lot of families, people picnicking, suntanning.  You know.  The usual for a gorgeous summer day during a global pandemic.

She was sitting on a little picnic blanket, clearly nervous, tense with anticipation about seeing me again.

When I got there, I unraveled my blanket too, took off my shoes, and sat a safe distance away from her, but within earshot.

I so wanted to kiss her on her full red lips and put my fingers through her full red hair.  But I was good, Daddy.

I sat crisscross, like I am now, but with my skirt just covering my modesty.  I didn’t wear a bra and so I’m sure she could make out my nipples through my sheer sweater.  I know she could because every guy I passed on the walk to her was glaring at my chest.  I enjoyed teasing her.  In fact, I enjoyed the whole distance thing more than I thought.  The torture of it all was exciting, I think, for both of us.

Anyhow, she had packed a little picnic basket, complete with a couple of bottles of chilled champagne and plastic glasses.  She poured me one and, after a few pleasantries, she told me her story.

‘Lo, do you remember our first few email exchanges?’ she asked.

‘Yeah,’ I said, thinking nothing special had been in them.

‘Well, I wrote to you and you assumed that I was responding to your ad.’

‘Weren’t you?’

‘That’s just the thing,’ she said, pausing and thinking how to tell me the next part.  ‘I didn’t even know you had an ad.’

‘How did you get my email?  How did you hear about me?’

‘I feel terrible about this.  I’m really sorry I led you on, or at least didn’t tell the truth right away.  I really didn’t mean to lead you on at all.’

I was very confused and I’m sure she could see it on my face.

‘You see, it started with my husband.’

‘He saw the ad?’

‘No, he found your blog somehow.  One night he left his computer on and fell asleep on the couch.’

‘Nothing good ever follows those words.’

‘I knew he had just jacked it.’

‘How did you know that?’

‘We’ve been married twenty-three years, Lo.  I know when he’s jacked off.’

‘OK.’

‘So I was curious.  I just wanted to see what was getting him off now.  And, instead of the usual porn vids that he watches to relieve stress, I found your blog!’

‘Really?’

‘Yes!  And I was fascinated by what I was reading.  I think it was Bleach Bum or something like that.’

‘Oh, I know what you mean,’ I said, a little embarrassed because that’s the story where you talk about anal bleaching and you put up a very prominent photo of my perineum.

Lola’s Blue Gem

 

“I believe it was more a photo of your asshole.”

“Must you be so vulgar?”

“I believe it was a photo of your anus.”

“That’s not any better!”

“It was a photo of your posterior analytics.”

“That sounds better.  But a little sterile.”

“It was a photo of your sweet, sweet. . .”

“Don’t you dare say sphincter!”

“How about your bottom’s belly-button?”

“Too confusing.”

“Can we please get back to your story?”

She continued:

 

She went on, ‘I wanted to read more, but I didn’t want Scott, that’s my husband, to know I was looking at his search history, so I logged out and signed into my account on the family’s desktop.  I read and read and looked at the photos of you and, well, I felt sexually aroused like I hadn’t in a long time!’

‘I have that effect on people.’

‘Mmmm,’ she moaned, looking at me, a little fear in her eyes, ‘to be honest, it was a combination of you, your photos, and the writing.’

 

“HA!” I shouted.

“Oh, calm down.”

“The writing!”

“Do you want to hear my story so you can write about it or what?”

“Well, now that she knows about the blog, it’s sort of breaking the fourth wall, isn’t it?”

“I’ll leave the literary devices to you.”

 

 

Meri continued, ‘I couldn’t get enough and then I saw that you had your email right there on the blog.  So I wrote to you.’

‘And I jumped to the conclusion that you must have read the ad.’

‘Yeah.  I was a little confused at first.  And then, to find out that we live in the same city, or at least pretty close to it!’

‘So that’s why you didn’t follow up with me for over a year?  Because of that little misunderstanding?’

‘No, no,’ she said.  ‘By the way, I read the story that H.H. wrote about our Easter encounter.’

‘Right, I guess you did.  Sorry that he was such a spy.’

‘That’s ok,’ she said, laughing a little, ‘It shows how much he loves you.’

‘Or what a perv he is!’

She waived her hand like it didn’t matter. ‘He wrote that you liked it.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Did you?  Did you really?’

‘Of course I did.  Did you disappear because you thought I didn’t?’

‘No, that wasn’t it.  I was eager to do it again – and more!’

‘So what happened?’

At this point, it was getting warm and both of us had had about two glasses of Champagne.  I stretched out my legs and so did she.  Our feet were touching at the end of our blankets.  It was cute and quite erotic – just touching toes like that.

‘Um, well, uh,’ she stumbled, ‘it gets a little more complex.  A little more confusing.’

‘What does?’

‘For a while both Scott and I were reading and getting off to your blog, but separately.  He had no idea that I was reading it.’

‘OK.  Don’t tell me he wants to fuck me too?’

‘Well, he probably does.  That’s not the problem.’

I was so confused.

‘Lo, do you remember getting some fan mail a while ago?’

‘I get a lot of fan mail.’

‘Well, this was special.  It had an illustration.  It was from a mom.  It was about a shared computer and. . .’

‘THAT was YOU?!’ I shot at Meri when the pieces fit together.

Meri’s face had turned almost as red as her hair.  ‘Do you want to leave?  Do you hate me?  I’m so ashamed.’

At that moment, though she was much older, she seemed so scared, so vulnerable.  I just rubbed her feet more with my feet and consoled her.

‘Was it just that one time?’ I asked after a long pause.

‘I wish I could say it was.’

‘You mean you. . . ?’

‘He likes me to help him.  Other than you, it’s our secret.’

 

 

“Wait.  Wait,” I said in disbelief.  “You’re saying that Meri is the mom who wrote to us about finding the blog on her husband’s computer and fapping to it and then, later, when she was found out by her son, used it as ‘a teachable moment’?”

“One-and-the-same.”

“Oooooohhhhhh,” I said.  “That explains a lot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Why’d she send that email and not say that it was from her?”

“I think she was embarrassed, but she was trying to tell me why she was M.I.A.”

“A little coded message?”

“Yeah.  Not the clearest communication.”

“Did she actually expect you to figure it out?”

“I don’t think so.  It wasn’t even from the same email address as she had used before.  I think she wanted to gauge my reaction to it.  When you wrote about it without being judgmental, I think it gave her a little more courage.”

“Well what happened next?”

“We talked a little more, just catching up on the past year.  I then lifted up my knees so that she could have a good, direct look at my smooth, gleaming pussy.  Very discretely she extended her leg between my legs and tickled my pussy lips with her toe.”

“That doesn’t sound like you were six feet apart.”

“She has long legs.  Anyhow, she was very turned on by it.  She wanted to touch herself, but couldn’t out there in public.  So we ended sort of abruptly.  We wanted to see more of each other, but she also wanted to cum.  I bet she touched herself in the car on the way home.”

“Lo, this is some fucked-up shit.  Back when you were fooling around with Hunter, a married man, you were playing with fire.  Now you’re playing with gasoline, tanks of oxygen, and matches.”

“I know, I know,” she said, actually distraught.  “But she’s so fucking hot!”

“Heat is the last ingredient you need with gasoline, tanks of oxygen, and matches.”

“OK!  I get it.”

“And what happens when they all read this entry of the blog together?  KABOOM!”

“You just won’t write about it.”

“To hell I won’t!”

“Well, you won’t publish it until I get myself out of this mess.”

“Agreed.  But you will get yourself out of it, won’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, reluctantly.

“Cause if you don’t, this will get you in the ass and it will hurt more than that ‘Bleach Bum.’”

We both laughed at Meri’s misremembering the title of that blog post.

“Kiss it, Daddy,” she said, bending over.  “Make me feel better.”

“You’re lucky I’m so madly in love with you Lo.  You know that?”

“You like my bleach bum?”

“Like it?  Love it!  Want it,” I said as I pulled her close to me.

Lola, Illustration by Jeremy Young

Guest Post: A Birthday Hat Trick

Posted on by
5

Recently an older hotwife, Nancy Fairchild, sent in this lovely birthday story for us to publish. She is a great writer, a sexy ex-pat, and a kindred spirit. You can find her work on Medium.com. The photos are hers and she asked us to post them.

By Nancy Fairchild

nancy.fairchild@hushmail.com

Nancy Fairchild

I can actually date the start of this true story because it began on my birthday in 2015. I may be dizzy but I usually remember what day I was born on but, as time goes on, I get a little forgetful about the year because in 2015 I decided that I didn’t want to get any older and that complicated things. My husband figured out how to fix that for me, which is why I love him so much. He’s a genius with figures. To give you an example, right now I was born in 1985 but in 2015 I was born in 1980. Brian explained it to me how it works one time, but it was a little over my head.

Brian not only has excellent taste in women but a fashion sense that is out of this world and a wallet large enough to spoil me silly. How many women are married to men who get hard when they buy something for their wife? I don’t ‘let’ my husband spoil me; I actively encourage it because it makes him happy. The Sunday Times writer, Adrian Gill, who unfortunately passed away a year ago, said some straight men are born with a gay gene in them that translates into a style sense that few heterosexual men possess. That’s Brian, in a nutshell: straight as an arrow but with the fashion and style sense of a gay fashion designer.

In 2015 I transformed myself from a naughty wife to an art slut and I attribute that to a few factors, not least of which was the shopping spree Brian took me on in Bond Street on my birthday. First there were the three pairs of Louis Vuitton shoes, all heels in different shades of patent leather. Three pairs of 7 for all Mankind jeans, very tight fit and very slutty. Two black cashmere turtleneck sweaters from Hugo Boss and finally a three quarter’s length black leather jacket from Zadig & Voltaire. I didn’t look at the price and I didn’t even try it on, Brian just knew it would work on me and bought it. The lingerie, which he bought for me at Agent Provocateur, was just the icing on the cake.

Brian likes me to have a ‘look’ and what he was going for was sort of like a rock groupie look circa 1980s but updated to be more modern. I like it when Brian does this to me because it takes away my underlying reluctance to change. Knowing he has impeccable taste; I trust his judgment entirely and just let him do his work.

Nancy Gives Head

Brian could work in a top London hair salon. He doesn’t. He works on legal briefs for American law firms which pay him a fortune and that allows him to spoil me. But Brian taught himself how to be an excellent stylist and he always does my hair and on that day in 2015 he had an idea that became my trademark for the entire winter and up to this day. Brian cut off two inches of my shoulder length blonde hair and added a hot pink streak to the left side of my part. After the dye set and he washed and blew dry my hair, he helped me get dressed in my outfit of expensive lingerie, tight blue jeans, cashmere black turtleneck, pink patent heels and the pièce de résistance, the black leather three quarter length leather coat. When I looked at myself in the full-length mirror, I was initially too shocked to tell Brian I didn’t really like the look at all. It didn’t feel like it was me, I looked like someone else entirely.

It took me about thirty minutes to completely change my mind. The nice thing about having a lover living in the same building is a second opinion is always at hand. I told Brian I was going to nip over to see Adrian to find out what he thought of my new look. Of course, Brian knows Adrian had been fucking me for the last five years, as did everyone else in the entire building. When I saw the disappointed look on his face, I told him not to fret, I’d be back in 30 minutes.

I crossed the courtyard in the center of our apartment building. I knew Adrian was home because the lights were on in his apartment. When I knocked on the door and he opened it, he had a startled expression on his face that quickly broke into a smile.

“You look hotter than I’ve ever seen you,” he said as he drew me inside and locked his lips on mine. “I want to fuck you right now.”

He had the leather coat off in seconds and my jeans pulled down to my knees. He didn’t bother taking my knickers off, he just pushed them aside as he bent me over and fucked me from behind. No foreplay at all, just a hard cock in my pussy within a minute. Adrian fills my pussy entirely. I need well endowed lovers. My pussy isn’t made for underendowed men. I sort of lost track of time and just enjoyed being ravaged by Adrian but I could tell he was super turned on and he was going to cum quickly. He reached his arm around my back and his fingers found my clit which he rubbed until I came with a moan. His moan came shortly thereafter as he pumped me full of his hot cum. Then he did something he had never done before and slapped me briskly on my bare ass.

“Ouch, what’s that for?” I cried out.

“It’s for being the slut you are,” Adrian said, with a hint of anger in his voice. “If you walk around like that, dressed the way you are, every man is going to want you.”

I was a bit pissed off at Adrian as I pulled up my jeans and zipped them, but I was inwardly very pleased he was jealous. After numerous affairs since our marriage and the move from New York to London, Brian had lost the ability to be jealous, which is probably a good coping mechanism for him, but it made me feel a bit disappointed sometimes. Making Adrian jealous was a good substitute, though.

“That’s too bad,” I replied with a smile. “Because I’m just beginning to really like this look. I think I will have Brian buy me some shorter skirts to wear for the winter. I love my hair too. Brian is going to take me out for my birthday. I hope I get some attention tonight.”

“Every horny man will get hard as a rock when they see you,” Adrian said, with an irritated look on his face. “You won’t make it home tonight. Brian will, alone as usual.”

Adrian’s prediction was quite prescient, but I didn’t know it at the time. It was 6:30 pm when I was walking across the courtyard, once again, back to my apartment this time. The night was young, and I had already been fucked once. I opened the door and found Brian in the kitchen and kissed him on the lips.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t suck his cock,” I said playfully, growing more pleased at how jealous I had made Adrian. “He thinks my look is too hot and every man will want me, so he’s worried that he will lose his place in line.”

“Your look isn’t too hot,” Brian said as he held me. “I wasn’t going for that. You look ultra-cool and hip. That’s the look I wanted. You look far too hip to be with an American lawyer tonight.”

Once again, another prescient prediction, but this time from my husband. Of course, I brushed it aside. Brian is handsome in a drop dead sort of way and he’s younger than me and makes a fortune, and he’s completely and totally faithful to the point that I have never seriously worried about what goes on behind my back. Being by his side makes me sort of sparkle and the security he provides, both emotionally and financially, allows me to be the woman I am.

I went back to the full-length mirror and looked at myself again. Brian was right. I looked younger and edgier. I just didn’t appreciate it at first. That was the point I fell in love with the look and changed forever the way I dressed.

Here’s an unsolicited tip for naughty wives who like younger men: dress hip. It is an ageless look. Don’t wear frocks that shows off your ‘decolletage’ unless, of course, you’re interested in the village vicar. I’ve seen 50-year-old women that have a couple of 20 year old studs in tow because they’re smart enough to know that men crave hip women.

“Where are we going for dinner?” I asked Brian when I returned to the kitchen. I was glowing because I had just been bent over and fucked very recently and was really beginning to love the way the new woman Brian had created looked.

Sexy Nancy

“We’re going to Launceston Place,” Brian said. “We have reservations at 8:00 pm. We can go out for a drink at a pub nearby because there aren’t any pubs around the restaurant.”

Ten minutes later we were at the Phoenix pub on Moscow Road, just a hundred meters from our apartment. It was crowded and Brian couldn’t locate a table. We were just about to leave when I heard my name called out and saw a familiar face waving us over to a table for four that had two unoccupied chairs.

“God, you look fucking fantastic,” Stuart exclaimed when Brian and I neared the table. “I love your look. Did you have an army of stylists around you today? You could have come right off a fashion shoot.”

Stuart and I had known each other for a few years because I have bought some art from his gallery, which was on Chepstow Road, just across from our apartment building. I had mistakenly always assumed he was gay. I wasn’t thoroughly and completely disabused of that notion until about thirty minutes later. He had a friend with him who he introduced as the next Lucien Freud of the London art scene. Stuart was handsome in an aristocratic manner and his young friend, Kurt, was sort of beautiful. Slim of frame, I thought he was sort of asexually attractive at first. I’d find out the real truth at the same time that Stuart’s true sexuality was revealed.

“Not really,” I replied with a smile. “I just have a husband who has impeccable taste and he transformed me for my birthday. We’re out for a quick drink before we have dinner.”

I could speak freely because Brian had gone off to buy a bottle of wine and procure a couple of glasses at the bar. Stuart had a little bit of knowledge about my scandalous past and was always eager to get more dirt from me.

“Are you still fucking the professor?” he asked with a smile. “You could really do much better. You are the hottest women in this pub by a longshot. Look around, nobody can keep their eyes off you. I could fuck you here and now.”

I did a quick glance around the bar and noticed I was getting an undue amount of attention which was beyond flattering and egged on my naughty streak even further. I saw Brian trying to fight his way to the bar and knew he would be a few more minutes and I could talk openly for a bit longer with Stuart.

“I thought you were gay,” I replied to Stuart with a laugh. “I’m sorry if that sounds presumptuous of me, but I thought you liked boys.”

“That’s an act I play for the art scene,” Stuart said in a more serious tone. “No, I’m straight and I wanted to fuck you from the day I saw you, and I’m sure Kurt does as well.”

“Agreed,” Kurt chimed in. “You are very, very hot and I got hard when I first saw you. Stuart has talked to me often about you. He’s wanted to fuck you for years.”

“Why don’t you ditch your husband now and come back to my place with Kurt,” said Stuart with a mischievous grin. “Let’s celebrate your birthday with a bang.”

“That would be tremendously rude of me,” I replied, although against my somewhat limited better judgment, I was actually considering it, just because it came out of the blue and I wanted to change my lifestyle and lovers to match my new look. I needed some great spark to embark on a new journey in life. I have been rude to Brian before and disappointed him numerous times because I can do that and not worry he will be shocked and hurt beyond belief. He expects the unexpected out of me.

“I hope you don’t mind that I was fucked not so long ago,” I said as I stood up from the table. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t my husband.”

I grabbed my purse and began sauntering towards the door. Stuart and Kurt quickly followed. Thirty minutes later the former had his cock deep inside my pussy while I was trying concentrate on taking the latter deep in my throat. Nothing is perfect but the timing of their orgasms was only seconds apart. After our brief and hurried sex,  I wandered around the apartment, just in my heels, looking at the art Stuart had collected while my two young lovers relaxed nude on the sofa where they had just taken me for the first time. Eventually, I sat between them and touched each of them with my fingers, lightly rubbing their cocks, to see if they had recovered.

“I want both of your cocks in my pussy at the same time,” I told Stuart and Kurt. “I want you both to stretch my pussy. I’ve never done that before.”

I took sideways glances at each of them and they both wordlessly nodded their agreement. I arranged their bodies on the sofa, so their legs intertwined and their cock and balls were touching each other. I sat on top and held both cocks in my hand and lowered myself on them slowly letting my pussy get adjusted to the girth of their combined cocks. After I felt totally comfortable, I held them deep inside my pussy and began riding them, gradually picking up tempo until my body was covered in sweat. I bucked on top of them until Kurt came first inside me and Stuart exploded a few seconds later. I was exhausted, afterwards. I stood up on very shaky legs and fell down between them on the sofa. My pussy was overflowing with warm spunk.

“I hope you don’t think I’m an easy woman, or a slut,” I said playfully. “I did wait until I knew Kurt’s name before I fucked you both. A real slut wouldn’t have bothered asking.”

“By the way,” I added. “How do I go back now to only wanting one cock in my pussy.”

“You don’t,” Stuart replied. “Kurt and I will both be fucking you together a lot from now on. We’ll also be taking you around to enjoy the art scene so that’s less time at home for you in the future and more time here on the sofa between us.”

I looked at the wall clock and noted that it was almost 9:00 pm. I had already fucked three men so far today and I had a chance to make it four. In ice hockey I think I would have already done a hat trick.

“I’ve got to get up and go home to my husband,” I said. “I was really rude to leave Brian in the bar like that.”

“You’re not going anywhere until the morning” Kurt said, with a surprising command in his voice, moving his right hand to my pussy and flicking my clit with his fingers. “We aren’t done fucking you.”

“Wow,” I replied. “I like a man who tells me what to do. I guess I can join my husband for breakfast. Besides, after you both fucked me at the same time, I don’t think Brian would get much pleasure from my pussy.”

“What are we going to do about that tonight?” Stuart asked.

“I guess you’ll have to learn how to fist me,” I replied.

I haven’t always kept the hot pink streak in my hair for the last five years. Brian has changed it to blue, orange, black and back to hot pink again. Hanging out with Stuart and Kurt has been a constant, as well as the wild times on their sofa. Through them I have met Damien Hurst, Tracey Emin, David Hockney and other great contemporary British artists and there are a couple of nude paintings of me hung in some very expensive homes in London.

My self-destructive relationship with Adrian has diminished to very infrequent trysts and I have replaced him with two lovers who are much more exciting and far more devoted to me. Brian has grown even handsomer in the last five years. Running off, as I did, on that night irritated him briefly but I came home the next day happier than I had been in years. He liked that a lot.

Contel Bradford Interviews the Artist JoKoss

Posted on by
Reply

[Those of you who have followed us closely and purchased the books know that JoKoss has made a number of great images of Lo, including the cover for our forthcoming book, Slut Life. Here is an interview from Medium.com that Contel Bradford published. It’s reposted here with his consent. Please check out JoKoss. I’m not sure how to support him right now, but he could use it since his exhibits have been canceled due to COVID-19.  All of the images here are by JoKoss and are of Lola Down.]

Cover of the Audio Book with chapters Image by JoKoss

I have a confession: I suck at almost everything. Seriously. Writing is like the only thing I’m halfway decent at. SMH. Damn shame. I think it would be SO cool if I could draw as well as Jo Koss, who took some time to chat it up for The Fetish Files.

How long have you been drawing and when did you realize you were an artist?

Oh I believe I have been drawing since I could pick a pencil up. Then of course I didn’t really have a plan or an idea of becoming an artist.

What inspired you to start drawing nude artwork?

When I tried to pursue a professional career in the comic industry back in the days the first doors that opened were of Adult comics publishers. I think every artists I knew back then followed the same path. I started up actually writing adult comics and eventually I drew many of them as well. Writing was much quicker for me to put down the stories that other artists would illustrate. Even though the comics weren’t very elaborate you could only draw a few panels a day while for the stories I could write a few over a night.

I understand a lot of your work is based on community requests. What is the craziest request you’ve received so far?

Oh there are a few every now and then. I guess the craziest ones are when they send me tiny little details oo portion of photos with even the face masked and they want me to draw a portrait. Other times they would ask very elaborate situations that might take an entire day to figure out, unfortunately I have to turn down those requests because otherwise I wouldn’t have any time to do anything else. But yes, I get a lot of requests from the various communities and socials.

Can you provide some insight into your creative process? Do you use any kind of animation software? Or do you draw everything freehand? I can barely draw a stick dude, so I literally have no clue.

I draw both traditional and digital. Sometimes I would draw by hand and then add colors in Photoshop. It depends on what I have to draw, how I am inspired, time, also where I am. If I am traveling I might draw on one of my sketchbooks and later scan it or just post it as it is.

Cover to Volume III: Writing Under Cover by JoKoss

Do you have a favorite piece you’ve drawn?

Quite a few actually. Hard to pick favorites really. There might be a story behind the picture that would make the work special for me, or the way I made the illustration. I sometimes prefer working in black and white but I enjoy using colors. At times I try to experiment a little.

What role has social media played in growing a following for the Jo Koss brand?

Quite a lot, since through the various sites my pics have been reposted everywhere. I realized that some people printed out my illustration to decorate their skateboards or guitars. I also found some people doing graffitis and murales of my art. Some of the recent ones I saw on Instagram where in Russia. Pretty cool I think.

Seems Tumblr’s hasty ban on adult content impacted many content creators. How did the ban effect you, and where are you currently sharing your work?

Well, that sucked quite a lot. I had to rethink everything. Start a new site, look for alternative communities. It is still in progress. I have lost touch with a lot of followers and that’s a pity but slowly, gradually I have noticed that some of them are reappearing on other communities I signed on. Right now I am on AdultNode, Bdsmlr, Twitter, Instagram, DeviantArt, still trying to find the perfect spot I guess.

I see you’ve published a couple books. Care to tell us about them?

I have a few more in progress. I have collected all the illustrations I made and posted on tumblr and collected in a nice art book. It went sold out and now I will have to reprint it but in the meantime I have made some more illustrations so I am trying to finalize a volume 2 at the same time.

I am also planning a few exhibitions where the books will be also available.

Any new projects we should be on the lookout for?

Yes, something is cooking but I am still not ready to announce it. Most likely I will post on my social something soon.

To see this artwork the way it was meant to be seen, check out Jo Koss.

Contel Bradford is a mystical and complex individual. You can attempt to unravel some of the mystery by visiting his author site at countkrewpublications.com.

10 Yoga Poses

Posted on by
1

[We offer here a sneak peek at the article just released in Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine, September 2020 Issue.  Here is ENM’s editor’s introduction to the story:

Hermann Humbert, writer for www.mysexlifewithlola.com and husband to beautiful hotwife Lola Down has been contributing stories about Lola’s exploits with us for months… this one may be the hottest one yet!!! You can read this story in its entirety right now in our September issue of ENM Magazine on Kindle, or we will publish it as a Patreon exclusive later this month.

Illustrations by H.H.]

Ten Yoga Poses

Dear Reader, you may recall that Roy and Gary are the young, twenty-something brothers from across the street with whom Lo has become acquainted back before COVID-19 shuttered us all in.  She seems to enjoy toying with them the way one might with two adorable puppies.  One day, not long ago, as things began reopening, she amused herself by going on a date with them to do some clothes shopping.

They went to a nearby mall and they followed her as she bounced from store to store trying on skirts, blouses, dresses, and shoes.  She would make them wait close to the dressing room to render an opinion for her.  Unless it was two thumbs up, or rather, four thumbs up and two cocks up, she didn’t make a purchase.  This scratched two itches for Lo: 1) flirting in the flesh and; 2) shopping.

This little tease titillated her and the boys for hours.

She told me all about it, eager to arouse my jealousy, when I got home from work, but she was let down when she realized that I was quite pleased with her excursion because it saved me countless hours of waiting by the dressing room for her to toggle back and forth between her natural impulse to purchase and her attempt to avoid buyer’s remorse.

“I bet you’d like to see me toggling back and forth between Roy’s dick and Gary’s,” she said, latching onto that word which placed the naughty image in her dirty mind.

“If it makes you happy,” I said, appearing aloof and disinterested in her foolish frolics.

She stomped her foot out of frustration and beat her fists on my chest, playfully.

“You will change your tune!” she said.

“My tune?  What will be my tune?”

“I Want You.”

“You do?  I thought you wanted your two boy-toys.”

“No, silly.  I Want You, by the Beatles.  That will be your tune.”

“You know, the subtitle to that song is, ‘She’s so Heavy’”

She flipped me the bird and said, “Of course you would know that.”

“But I think you’re just right.”

“So do the boys,” she added.  “Finally, a package deal: FOBO.”

“What is ‘FOBO’?”
“Fuck one, blow one.”

“I see.  And here I thought you just liked the company while you shopped.”

“I do!” she said enthusiastically.  “And I got this,” she said as she pranced around the room like an exotic dancer on stage.

“What?” I asked, befuddled.

“These,” she said, prancing around some more, her hands on her hips.

“Your hips?”

“No, silly.  These jeans.  They’re $250 jeans, but you’d never guess what I got them for.”

Lola’s New Jeans

“You blew a kiss to the shop clerk.”

“No.  Don’t be daft.”

“You blew the shop clerk.”

“If only.  But he was clearly not into my type.”

“Slutty?”

“I’m offended.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I meant, horny with a young man on each arm.”

“No.  He wasn’t into women at all.”

“I see.”

“Don’t you want to know what I got them for?”

“Who, the two young men?”

“No!  The jeans.”

“Oh, right.  What did you get them for?”

“It doesn’t matter now.  What matters is what I’ll get out of them for.”

“What will you get out of them for?”

“The two brothers.  They’re coming over.”

As she said that, there was a knock at the door.  I answered it and let in Roy and Gary, not knowing who was who.  Once they were in, Lo blurted out, “They say I need some caulk.”

“What?”

“Yeah, a lot of caulk.”

“Really?”

“Yes, to fill all the holes.”

“How’s that?”

“They just stick it in there and out it comes.  Voila!  There might be some overflow, but we can just wipe that up.”

“Sounds like you know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, I’ve handled caulk before.”

“You have?”

“Oh yeah.  Lot’s of times.  I’m practically a pro with caulk.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.  One hand.  Even two!”

During this whole performance, the boys just stood around and looked on dumbly.

“Where’s the bathroom?” one of them asked.

“Right down the hall there,” I said, pointing to it.

“And the caulk?” asked the other.

“I thought you two brought your own,” I said.

“No, silly,” said Lo.  She then went into our little tool drawer and pulled it out, along with a caulk gun, a box cutter, a sponge and a bucket.”

“Here you go,” she said to the other brother.

“Oh, caulk!” I said, with enthusiasm.  “I thought you were talking about. . . ah, never mind.”

“Yeah, what did you think we were talking about?” asked Lo, as if she hadn’t meant to confuse me all along.

She led the second boy down the hall and showed him the seam where the tub meets the tile and how discolored it had become.

The two boys set to work while Lo went into the adjacent master bedroom and slipped out of her jeans.  She wore only her thong and her blouse.  They were unaware until she called into the bathroom and offered a cool drink.  The boys looked up, dumbfounded.

Lola’s Thong and Blouse

“Uh, sure,” said one of them.

“Two lemonades ok?”

“Fine,” said the other, drawing out the vowel as if talking about Lo and not the lemonade.

Lo turned and went to the kitchen to grab the drinks for the boys.

“Don’t turn up the heat too much,” I said to her.

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked like Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind.

She turned tail and walked away from me.  I followed just to see what would happen next.

She went into the bathroom and bent over to the kneeling brothers and handed them the drinks.  “Oh, that looks much better!” she said of their job.  Truth be told, it was a hack job by two amateurs.  That didn’t matter to Lola.  That was strictly beside the point.  All the more reason to invite a professional contractor in and give him an encore performance of her Emmy Award winning act.

The boys, clearly distraught at the difficulty of the task and the distraction of Lo, wiped the little sweat from their brows and drank the lemonade.

“Maybe now that you fixed that so quickly, you two could help me with something else,” she said.  I was very curious what she had in mind, as were our two fix-it men.

Lo crawled across the bed, her ass cheeks seductively contorting like a proud lynx prancing before her prey.  She got to the edge, her top half disappeared off the side of the bed, and then reemerged with her Hitachi.  She looked over at the captivated cherubs and said, “I don’t know if the motor blew out or what, but I can’t seem to get it to turn on.”

The boys practically fumbled over each other trying to get to her.  As they did, she cast me a knowing look.  She had just used the masturbatory machine that morning.

One of the boys held it, flipping the switch on and off to no avail as the other inspected the wire.  Both of them stood over Lo’s prostrate body on the bed.  She smiled up at them.

“Did I overdo it?” she asked.  If there was a portmanteau that combined ‘innocently’ with ‘guiltily,’ like the word frenemy, then that would be how she asked that question.  And what a frenemy she was to me just then!

One of the boys flipped a switch on the power cord under the bed and the giant white ball began vibrating ferociously in the other’s hand.

“You did it!” squealed Lo.

“Yeah,” said the one who flipped the switch.  “You must have tripped the circuit breaker on this,” he said, holding up the power cord and showing Lo the emergency shut off button (that I’m sure Lo purposely shut off for just this reason).

“Oh, I see,” she said.  “Thanks!”  She spread her legs wide, indicating where the vibrating ball of the Hitachi should go.

The one holding it eventually got the hint.  He placed it between her legs, over her thong.

“Yeah,” said Lo lustily.

He let it rest there for a while.  Lo rotated her hips to get the vibrations where she wanted them.

“Turn it on hi-power,” she instructed.  He obeyed.  Lo raised her hips and pulled down her bra.  The other brother reached down and began pinching her nipples as Lo cupped her tits with her hands.

“Yeah,” she moaned again, “do that.”  Lo slowly unbuttoned her blouse and then removed it to let him see and touch her breasts.

She looked up at the boys and asked, “You two have been under strict quarantine?”

“Yes,” replied one of them.

“No going out?  No seeing anyone?” asked Lo.

“Yeah,” said the other, “not for the past two or three months.”

“No girlfriends?”

They both laughed a little.  “Even if we had girlfriends, which we don’t, our mom would never let us see them.  Not during this pandemic.”

Lo ran her tongue over her teeth as she looked up, her head very close to their bulging cocks.  “So, you two haven’t been able to. . .”  Before she finished her sentence, she grabbed the Hitachi and manipulated it to flip her switch and, without warning she was convulsing, cursing, and cumming with a wave of wetness flowing over her thong, soaking the bed covers.  All the time, I watched in silence from the doorway.

The two guys gawked at Lo’s percolations.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” she said to the two of them when she caught her breath.

Each of them looked over at me standing in the doorway, smirking just a little at Lo’s mode of flirtation.

She slid out of her soaked panties and asked, “Who’s first?” as she spread her legs wide and smacked her pussy.

One of the boys pulled down his pants and pulled out his cock.  He was large and very hard.

Lo licked her lips at the sight of it.  She turned on her tum.

Anahatasana – Melting Heart Pose

  1. Anahatasana – Melting Heart Pose

She rotated horizontal on the bed and got into the anahatasana, or melting heart pose, protruding her ass over the side of the bed prominently, while her arms were stretched out far in front of her head.

The boy whose pants were down – Roy or Gary? – slid in and Lo showed her appreciation with a long low moan.  As he was sliding in and out of her, his brother dropped his pants around his ankles.  He tapped out his brother and tapped into Lo with enthusiasm.  Lo seemed to enjoy the change of length, girth, and rhythm.  His brother stood next to him spreading Lo’s ass wide apart for his brother’s easy access.

Without warning, Lo’s body involuntarily squeezed him out – the first physiological sign that she’s about to have a violent squirting orgasm.

“You’re going to have to ride that pony better than that if you want to stay in the saddle,” I jibed, knowing full well how difficult it is to avoid slip-sliding out when her trap squeezes shut.

“Let me try,” said the other brother, thinking he’d have the superior technique.  He slid right in after Lo’s sprinkle (which soaked all the clothes on the floor) had subsided.

Bitilasana – Cow Pose

  1. Bitilasana – Cow Pose

Lo propped her torso up on both arms and her back made a concave curve causing her ass to protrude upward.  She used her arms to push backward to meet the boy’s thrusts.  Bang, bang, bang he bounced off of her butt.  Smack, smack, smack she slid down on his rod, her tits flailing forward and back with the rapid back-and-forth of her torso.  I should mention that, unlike in the first position, when she had her head down, facing the bed, now she was looking directly at me as she took the shocks from behind.  Our eyes were locked and she was feeding off of how much delight I took in her sexual prowess.

“Fuck me!” she commanded over her shoulder, as if he wasn’t giving it his all already.  “Come on, can’t you do better than that?”  She was just taunting him now.  I knew very well that she wasn’t used to this sort of rough ride.  The poor young fellow put so much force into it that I was worried he might pull a muscle in his back.

I saw Lo’s fingers curl up and clutch the bed sheets as if she were hanging on vertically to the bed, trying not to fall.  I saw her toes curl and I knew what was about to happen.

Sure enough, she shot contestant #2 right out of her convulsing cunt just as forcefully as she ejected the first one, followed by a torrent of orgasmic flow.

The two brothers watched, amazed at the quantity and velocity of her ejaculation.

Balasana – Child Pose

  1. Balasana – Child Pose

Lo curled up her knees under her and stretched her arms out far in front of her, tucking her head down between her arms as she caught her breath.  The boys were polite enough to give her the time she needed to recuperate.  They stood there, flanking her naked body, like silent sentinels at attention, their spears raised.

“Slide your hand over her soaking snatch,” I instructed them, breaking my silence.

“What?”

“Slide your hand over her soaking snatch,” I repeated.

The kid did what I said.

“Now, use that to rub around her asshole.”

“Daddy,” Lo objected.  She doesn’t like vulgarity to be used about her body.

“Around her special spot,” I corrected myself.

The kid did as he was told.  Lo moaned.

“Slide it in, gently.  Not too quickly.”

This kid needed step-by-step diagrams.

Lo moaned again.

“When she feels loose, insert two fingers.  She likes that.”

“Loose?” Lo asked, looking up at me from the bed.

“Relatively loose,” I corrected.

Uttana Shishosana – Extended Puppy Pose

  1. Uttana Shishosana – Extended Puppy Pose

Lo extended her arms out in front of her and lifted her ass up in the air for the boys to have it closer to their level.  Her knees were still tucked under her torso.  One of the brothers was wiggling his finger in her rear.  He eventually added a second finger.  The other brother held his cock in his hand, gawking awkwardly.

Lo was making small circles with her ass.  She moved one hand and slapped her ass cheek hard.  She did it again.  She looked back over her shoulder, enjoying the view of the brother with his cock in his hand.

Eventually she began to inch backwards, sliding off of the bed.

Uttanasana – Forward Fold Pose

  1. Uttanasana – Forward Fold Pose

Standing, Lo bent over at the hip, deeply plunging her torso down toward the floor as the young fella plunged his two fingers deeply in her ass.

“That’s enough,” said Lo.  “Fuck my ass.”

Both boys looked bewildered at the bounty of benefits they were getting.  The one who had been holding his cock took the lead and slid it right into her accommodating back door.

As he was going at her, Lo put her hands around her ankles and held the pose perfectly.  Though I couldn’t see from my vantage point, I imagine that she was looking up at the action from down below.

Eventually the other brother maneuvered onto the bed and sat in front of Lo.  Lo pulled up her torso out of the folded pose and placed her mouth on the boy’s rigid cock, sucking and slurping.  I was very impressed with the endurance both these youths had.

Malasana – Garland Pose

  1. Malasana – Garland Pose

Lo was very capable of bringing the brother before her to climax, but she was very careful not to.  Instead, she pulled forward, leaving Mr. Backdoor standing firm.  She lifted her lips up off of the cock they had covered with wet caresses, and she climbed up on the bed.

“You,” she said.  I think she was as confused as to who was Gary and who was Roy as I was.  “You, come here,” she commanded like a director on set before a shot.  She placed him flat on the bed, his staff protruding upward.

She straddled him, facing him.  Her hands grabbed her ass cheeks and spread them wide apart as she slowly lowered herself down on his eager erection, penetrating deep into her pussy.  She remained on her feet over him.

“You,” she instructed to the other brother, Mr. Backdoor.  “Get behind me and back in my ass,” she said, still spreading her ass cheeks apart.

He responded rapidly, hopping on the bed and, on his knees, sliding up and in her awaiting hole.

Now she had both brothers inside her.  She extended her hands in front of her to keep her balance and their pistons alternated in-and-out of her like a two-cylinder engine.  She moved her right hand down to her clit and began circling her bean.  Knowing Lola as I do, I knew that this move always preceded —————-

There it is!  Like a whale spout going off, her high pressure pussy precipitated all over the boy beneath her accompanied by her tirade of Tourette’s-like string of profanities.  I think she actually scared both boys.

Ustrasana – Camel Pose

  1. Ustrasana – Camel Pose

The boy behind her slipped out of her ass as Lo was drenching his brother caught between her legs.  Lo, thinking he was on the cusp of cumming himself, turned around rapidly and enveloped his cock with her mouth, taking it deep into her throat.  She could feel how powerfully the pressure was building.  At precisely the right moment, she pulled off his cock, drooped her head back, and grabbed onto her ankles with her hands, displaying her chest prominently for the young man to douse with his abundant display of gratification.

Covered in one brother’s cum, the second brother still lying between her spread legs, Lo leaned forward to lick clean any remnants of the first brother’s ejaculate.  But then she devoted her full attention to the second brother.

Lo turned over, and lay on the boy’s sculpted torso, slathering him in the cum that was on her breasts.  She kissed the brother on the lips, open mouth, and slid, kissing her way down his neck, shoulders, chest, stomach, and right down to his rock-solid passion pillar.

When her mouth had alighted on the object of her desire, she turned to the other brother and said, “Hold it for me.”

“What?” he asked in disbelief.

“Hold his cock for me.”

Having been the beneficiary of Lo’s abundant generosity, he obliged.  He reached out with his right hand and held his brother’s phallus firmly for Lo to lavish attention on it with her labia.

Marjaryasana – Cat Pose

  1. Marjaryasana – Cat Pose

Lo was on her knees, supporting herself with her arms, drooping her head down and lightly licking the tip of the youth’s cock as his brother controlled the large limb with his right hand, circling it around Lo’s lips and slapping it on her cheek, just the way she likes.

Merudandasana – Spinal Column Pose

  1. Merudandasana – Spinal Column Pose

Lo said, “Get up.”  The boy who’s tip she was teasing, looked momentarily stunned.  A questioning look appeared in his eyes.  But, by now he should have known better than to question Lo.  He sat up.  “All the way,” said Lo.

He got up.  Lo took his place, lying flat on her back.  She spread her legs wide, lifting them in the air, and grabbing her toes with her hands.  Her pussy, drenched and glistening, clean shaven, and pink, was spread wide.

“Stand there,” she said, indicating right in front of her, between her legs.

The youth was on his knees, his cock raring to plunge into Lo’s gorgeous glazed open pussy.

“You like what you see?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you ready to cum?”

“No.”

“Good.  Fuck me, then,” she said.

He got up and into her.  Her arms and legs enveloped his body.  Her face turned toward me.  “Daddy,” she said as she received rapid thrusts from the youth.

“Yes,” I responded.

“I’m thirsty.”

I disappeared to the kitchen where I got Lo a large glass of ice water.  I returned with it.  The boy was pounding her, oblivious of my movements.  Lo reached out with her left hand and took the water from me.  Her forehead was sweating.  Her hair matted down in front.  She gulped the water as the boy continued his enthusiastic jousts at her cunt.  I could tell that by this point, she wasn’t even feeling him, she was so wet and wide.

After she returned the water to me, she pushed the boy back, interrupting his irreverent attempts to cum inside her.

“Are you about to cum now?” Lo asked as he sat on his haunches in front of her, between her legs.

“I’m close,” he said.

“Grab it,” she instructed, but not to him, to his brother.

He took his brother’s hard cock in his hand.

“Jack him off.  I want him to cum right here,” said Lo, slapping her pussy.

The two went at it, cock-in-hand, as Lo spread her lower lips with her fingers and slid a few deep inside.

“You like seeing me fuck myself?” she asked.

The boys couldn’t answer.  They were mesmerized.

“You like how much of a slut I am?  You like that I fucked you both right here in front of my man?  You like my pussy?  You like my ass?” she asked as she began fingering her special spot for them.

Suddenly, without any warning, the youth ejaculated with more force, volume, and velocity than I had ever seen.  He covered Lo from head to pussy in his cum as his brother encouraged the multiple eruptions of his quaking cock.

“That’s it,” said Lo.  “That’s it.  Cum.  Good boy.  Cum all over me.  Yeah.”

Ananda Balasana – Happy Baby Pose

  1. Ananda Balasana – Happy Baby Pose

When the brother finally completed his composition on Lo’s canvas, he smiled, obviously very pleased with himself.  Lo smiled too and she bent her knees and curled her back a bit, pulling at her toes with her hands.

“Daddy,” she said.

“Yes Lo?”

“May I have my glass dildo please?”

I opened the night table drawer and pulled out “Glindo,” her glass dildo, and handed it to her.

She inserted it slowly in her wet pussy.

“Um,” said one of the boys, “we had better get going.”

“OK,” said Lo as she masturbated.

“This was fun,” said the other boy.

Lo was moaning at this point.

The boys were putting on their soaking wet clothes.

“Just tell your mom that you washed our car,” I said.

“Right,” said one of the boys.

“Bye Lo,” said the other one.

“Bye,” said his brother.  “And thanks!”

Lo was too self-absorbed to respond.

 

“Fuck Me Like a Pornstar”

Posted on by
Reply

Lola and H.H.

It’s midday.  Lo’s in the bed, naked.  “Come here, Daddy, and fuck me,” she says.

I get naked and slide into her.  “You’re so wet,” I say.

“I just jilled it.”  As I’m inside her with her legs spread, she says, “You know, all the blinds are open and all the neighbors can see us.”

“Do you want me to shut them?”

“No!” she says, “I was telling you so that you’d fuck me like a pornstar.”

“You are a pornstar.  My pornstar.”

“Not just yours.”

“What did you jill it to?”

“Get behind me and I’ll tell you.”

She gets on all fours, facing the open windows, and I mount her from behind.

Lola in the Window

“That’s it,” she says.  “I jilled it to the thought of yesterday at the beach.”

“Which part?”

“Watching the girls in their thongs.”

Before she can say anymore, the image of her masturbating in the car, her legs up on the dashboard, watching two girls wearing skimpy bikinis splashing about before her as Lo intently faps flashes before my mind.  I pull out and fire a shot that lands squarely between her shoulder blades.  A few more shots follow.

Bikini Girls

“I think you just set a new world’s record – and not in a good way,” she complains over her shoulder.

“Well next time, don’t talk.”

“I hardly had time to say a sentence.  My story certainly hadn’t reached its climax before you did!”

“In my mind, it had.”

“You know the drill,” she says, expecting me to clean her up.

“I just drilled you.”

“To hell you did!”

I grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom and gently caress it over her back as she remains bent over, her tits hanging down, framed by the window. Lo says, “I expected more.  Is that the best you could do?”

“If you predecease me, I am going to see to it that those words are your epitaph.  ‘Lola Down says of life: I expected more.  And for all those who come to visit her tomb, on it will be etched: Is that the best you could do?’”

“Don’t worry, ole man, just like in sex, in life I’ll last a lot longer than you.”

“Any neighbors watching?” I ask.

“I sure hope so.”

As she says that, she sees my cock exhibit a flicker of life.

“Got any more in you?”

“Stay just like that,” I say, returning to the bathroom to put the washcloth in the sink.

I get behind her again and sit on the edge of the bed, stroking my cock to the view, thinking about the neighbors watching her in the window.  She must have read my mind because, as I was coaxing my cock into a repeat performance, she says, “I hope the neighbors are enjoying this.”

Cum-Covered

When I’m rigid enough for reentry, I resume the position.

She moans and says, “Noon is a good time for you, Daddio.”

“Yeah, the caffeine kicks in full-force right about now.”

“Well, you can kick in full-force.  Slam me.  Fuck me like a pornstar.  I’ll put on a good show.”

I give her my all and she begins calling out, right out the open window, “Fuck, fuck!  Yeah, fuck!  Fuck me.  Harder.  Fuck me.”

I can hear the women who live upstairs walking.  The hardwood floor amplifies their footsteps and they are walking right above us.  No doubt they hear the soundtrack to Lo’s porno.

I can feel her cunt-clenching convulsions beginning.  Her voice is at peak volume.  Her pussy pushes me out as she begins to squirt on the floor and her fingers grab onto the windowsill as if she were on the outside, holding on for dear life.  “FUUUUUCK!” she cries as she sprays the floor.

“Get back in me,” she instructs desperately.

I slide in.

“Fast.  Hard.  Deep.”

I do my best.

Repeat.  I’m squeezed out, she squirts.

I sit on the bed and watch.

Desperate for her third (Lo loves to cum in threes), she lowers her dripping slip-n-slid down on my shaft.

Now she is in control of the penetration as she lifts and drops at her own pace and to her own desired depth.  Quickly she goes from slow and gentle glides to rapid, repetitive sloppy slams like a pile driver dropping at 150 beats per minute until she hits just the right spot and the dam doors burst.

Pleased with winning the Triple Crown, she falls on the bed next to me, panting.

“I tried to stay in you,” I say, apologetically, “but I’m no match for your Kegel muscles.”

“You’d have to knot me to stay in me,” she says matter-of-factly.

I’m exhausted from the workout, but Lo says I have to get up and grab a mop to clean the floor while she changes the sheets.

“Can’t we just nap and clean up later?”

“No!  I can’t sleep on soppy sheets.”

“You’re so sensitive.  You’re like ‘The Princess and the Pee!’”

The Female Gaze

Posted on by
2

Lo at the Beach

It was a hot July day.  The entire week was heavy with humidity.  Lo, working from home, without any AC, had to, just had to, work in either only her panties and a bra or nothing at all.  It made for very interesting Zoom calls.

Finally the weekend was here and we were going to get out of the sticky stale air of the city and cool off at the beach.

As usual, we got a late start due to Lo cycling through all of her various bikini tops and bottoms to find just the perfect match.

I loaded up the cooler, full of ice, beer, and snacks into the car.

I packed away the folding chairs.

I took nearly as much time picking just the right reading material as Lo took choosing her outfit.

But we were on the road by ten.

The beach is about an hour’s drive from our apartment, but when we got there, the parking lot was already overflowing.  No more cars allowed.  The line was a half mile long to get in.

We pulled up on the side of the road and just looked at the scene before us.  Refreshing blue water on the horizon only a few hundred yards away.  A yellow strip of soft sand filled with weekenders like ourselves.  A narrow boardwalk.  Then the steamy blacktop creating a wavelike transparent curtain between us, waiting and baking in the near noonday sun, and the inviting scene.

As we waited there, perspiring, at a loss for what to do, two young women in bikinis and thongs showing a lot of cheek walked past us.

“Don’t look!” commanded Lo.

How was I to avoid the sight.  They were directly in front of where we were parked (illegally) and not going anywhere.

“Just don’t look,” she said.

The two women were at a watering stand where they washed the sand from their feet and sandals.  They splashed about cheerfully.  As I did my best to avoid looking at them, Lo reached down under her bikini bottom and began flicking the bean.

“Lo, what are you doing?”

Book Review

“You can’t look, but I can.”

“Look all you want, but. . .”

“What?  I’m not allowed to touch?  You can look at me if you must look somewhere.”

That I did.  I watched her watching the near naked nymphettes through the frame of the windshield.

Though Lo is significantly younger than I, she’s old enough to regard those two girls splashing around as mere “nymphettes,” as Vladimir would say.  Yet she’s also still young enough herself to make the thirty-something year old moms jealous.

I was sweating, even with all the windows down.  Lo, too, was perspiring.  I could see the beads of perspiration collecting between her breasts.  They grew into large dew drops and then collected together into a stream that ran down, under her bikini top, over her tum, and to the pool between her legs where her right hand was rapidly racing to the finish line.

“Hurry up, Lo, it’s hot,” I said.

“Shhhhhh,” she angrily responded.

I furtively looked up to see what the girls were doing.  They were still splashing in the water.  Minutes seemed like hours.

Lo’s hair was matting down with perspiration.  Her brow was dripping.  Her fingers still rapid-fire stroking.

I could see, as I looked at Lo in the passenger seat, two young men walking our way on the dirt path beside the road.

“Lo,” I said.

“I’m almost there.”

“Lo,” I repeated a little more urgently.

“I know, you’re hot, but just give me. . .”  She was fixated on the vignette of vaginas dancing in the cool water.

Lo playing

“Lo!”

Too late, the boys were at her window.

“Um, excuse me, but you can’t park here,” one of them said.  They were lifeguards and had the unfortunate job of patrolling the area.

As he gently spoke, Lo was startled and screamed, “WHAT?!”  Her hand was still down her bikini bottom, grasping her hooch rather than stroking it now.

“I’m sorry,” said the young man, almost putting his head in the window, “but we can’t let you park here.”

Lo looked up at him.  He was young, handsome, and fit.  His partner’s crotch in the Speedo bathing suit was right at the same level as Lo’s face and she had a full-frontal view of his bulge.

Her fantasy, or whatever was happening in her head, had to make an abrupt change of course from the two girls to the two boys.  If there were a soundtrack to our scenario, then you would hear the scratch of the needle as the music did a 180 from “Girl Crush” to Janet Jackson’s “All for You.”

Lo was simultaneously embarrassed and excited.  It was one of the few times she didn’t have any words for the occasion.  She just looked up, slack-jawed, panting in the heat.

Seeing the predicament unfold before me like a car wreck in slow motion, I took the initiative and leaned over and said, “She’s just getting off.”

“What?” asked the young man.

“I said, I’m just letting her off.  She’s hopping out now as I go park the car in town.  Right Lo?”

She looked at me.  She didn’t want to stop diddling, but she had no choice.  She pulled her hand out of her bikini bottom and smiled at the boys.  “Right,” she said.

“Don’t forget your phone, your towel, and your sunscreen,” I said as she got out of the car.

“Oh, that’s ok,” said one of the two fellas by the car, giving permission for something that was going to happen anyway.

Lo slowly got out of the car.  She opened up the rear passenger door to get the stuff and bent over to get it.  The bottom half of her body was outside the car, the top inside.  She looked at me and whispered, “I’m squirting!”

“Lucky boys,” I said.

She stood, frozen for a moment in the heat.  I could see her chest getting flush, as were her cheeks.  Probably her ass cheeks too.

She grabbed a few items and said, “Don’t be long.”

“Long and hard, Lo, I’ll be long and hard.  I’ll see you later Ms. Soggy Bottom”

She got out of the car and walked across the street.  I watched her, as did the boys.  I could see her bikini bottoms were soaked.  She got to the fountain where the girls had been and refreshed herself in it.  The girls had since walked away.

Forty-five minutes later, drenched in sweat, exhausted, I returned by foot to the beach after driving over a mile away to find a legal parking spot.

I found Lo on the beach, lying out.  “Hey Daddio,” she said to me, happy to see me, but with another request at the ready, “It’s pretty warm out here and I’m getting hungry.  Do you think we could get some lunch?”

I couldn’t believe it.  I thought I was going to pass out right there.

“Do you mind if I take a quick dip to cool off?” I asked, not about to wait for her reply.

I removed my shirt as she said, “If you must.”  She was only partly joking.

The water revived me, but it felt so good that I could have stayed in all day.

“I’ll wait here.  Call me when you get close,” she said as I began my walk to pick up the car.  “Don’t be long!”

“Long and soft, long and soft,” I thought, as I grumbled walking away.

Thirty minutes later, I picked her up and we went to our favorite restaurant on the water.  It has a roof deck bar.

Once we were seated and had ordered drinks, I asked Lo how her time on the beach (without me) was.

“It was ok.  A lot of voyeurs.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“It’s different with me.”

“How exactly?”

“The female gaze.”

“The female gaze is no different from the male gaze, especially if the female who is gazing at other females is simultaneously fapping off in public to the sight.  If I were to do that, I would have been arrested!”

“No, you’d be dead first because I would have killed you.”

“Yet you get away with it.”

“Exactly.  Now you’re catching on.  The female gaze, it’s just different from the male gaze.”

“Only because society treats it differently.”

“Well, there must be a reason for that.”

“There is.  It’s called patriarchy.  The laws are made, enforced, and interpreted by men.  And men are perverts who find the thought of a woman flicking her bean fascinating and the thought of a man stroking his cock criminal.”

“There you have it.”

“So you’re buying into the patriarchy?”

“No.  Never.  I’m contributing to its eventual demise by exposing its internal contradictions.”

“You’re exposing something,” I said just as our waiter brought out our cool, tall drinks.

“Anyhow,” said Lo after a long sip, “the voyeurs were laser focused on me.”

“I bet you had to beat them off with a stick!”

“I like that idea,” she said, daydreaming, “but no.  They all maintained a proper social distance.”

“Did you see the two guys who interrupted you?”

“No, I didn’t.  Maybe they saw me, but I didn’t notice them.”

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

“What, Daddy?” she asked with a faux innocence.

“Getting caught.”

“No, I was right on the edge!”

“I know.  And getting caught put you over the edge.”

“Well, I have the opposite problem from a lot of men.”

“How so?”

“I hear that men who masturbate too much. . .”

“What’s too much?” I interrupted her.  “This should be good coming from you.”

“Well, very frequently, let’s say.  Those men find it increasingly more difficult to climax.  But with me, the more I do it, the easier I cum.  It’s becoming a problem.”

“How so?”

“Remember the time in the gym?”

I did.  She had had an accidental squirting orgasm while working out.  “Has that happened again?”

“Not exactly, but it doesn’t take much.  It’s like I’m becoming incontinent.  Just walking down the street could result in a downpour.  A hairpin trigger.  And I’m not sure how to prevent it.  What do you think?”

“Depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“No, Depends, the adult diaper.  That’s what I think.”

“Oh, Daddy.  Don’t be silly.”

“I’m the silly one?  Maybe you should stop your self-pleasure.”

“Don’t be absurd!”

“Then I have no solution for you.  Carry a bottle of water everywhere you go just in case.  You can always say you spilled.”

Our lunch was brought out and I continued the conversation, “Do you think you could make yourself accidentally squirt right now?”

“What about ‘accidental’ don’t you understand?  It’s involuntary.  If I try to do it, it’s not an accident.  But, just so you know, if I wanted to, I certainly could cum and squirt right now.  And I’m not talking some Meg Ryan fake orgasm.  I’m talking gushing waterfalls from between my legs onto the wood floor beneath my chair.”

“Do it,” I dared her.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because, I don’t want to.  I have agency, you know.”

“I thought that accidental squirting orgasms removed your agency.”

“Only in that one respect.”

“Well, I give you all due respect.”

“As you should.”

We ate our lunch and then, having properly patronized the restaurant and taking the receipt as proof, I chose to leave the car in the parking lot as Lo and I returned to the adjacent beach.  I carried all the chairs, towels, and drinks.  She walked like a goddess before me.

As we were walking to a secluded section of the strand, we happened across one of the lifeguards walking in front of us.  He was, like most lifeguards, in very good shape.  His bathing suit was nonchalantly drooping down, revealing a bit of his untanned rear.

“Mmmmmm,” Lo purred, audibly enough for me to hear her.

“Go after him, if that’s what you want,” I said.

“Oh Daddy,” she cried, putting her arm around me and squeezing my ass, “you’re the only one who gets my engine revving.”

“Really?  I couldn’t get you to turn over this morning.”

“Well, my engine doesn’t start before eight.”

“Half the day is gone by then.”

We continued walking toward the cool shore and we passed four young women, two of whom were, as Lo loves to say, ‘stick-skinny-blondes.’  She has always and continues to believe, mistakenly, that I would run with abandon after an upside-down straw broom in a bikini, thinking it was a ‘stick-skinny-blonde’ woman.

“You must be enjoying the three B’s,” she said to me.

“Three B’s?”

“Blondes, Boobs, and Butts.”

“I appreciate the scenery,” I said, purposefully looking out at the horizon and not at the women.  “I give thanks for beauty in all its manifold forms.”

“If you want them, have them.  Be my guest.  Go for it.”

“You propose to me one day and dispose of me the next.”

“Propose to you?!”

“Yes, you’re constantly asking me to marry you.”

“No.  I’m asking why you won’t marry me.”

“I’ve told you so many times already, if we never marry, there’s a zero percent chance of our getting divorced.”

“The only isle you’ll walk down with me is the chips and snacks isle of the supermarket.”

“Oh, don’t say that.  You know damn well that if I got down on one knee right here and proposed to you, you’d say no.”

“That’s true, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to try.”

I dropped everything I was carrying and got down on one knee in the sand and took her hand in mine.  “Will you marry me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because, you’re not even looking in my eyes, you’re looking at my crotch.”

“That’s the part that I wish to enter into. . . holy matrimony.”

“Well, the clam shack is closed.”

I stood up again and we spread our towels and set up our chairs right on the spot that I proposed to her.  How romantic!  Finally, I was able to relax just a little bit.

She was still sore about the gaggle of girls we had passed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“I just feel so fat compared to them,” she said, grabbing her tummy roll and squeezing it.  “I feel like a Jell-O Jiggler.”

Lo Roll

“Lo, please.”

I reached over and grabbed her tum.

“What are you doing?”

“Touching my favorite part of you.”

“My least favorite part.”

“Agree to agree with me.”

We at least let the matter drop.

Once we were comfortable, Lo took out her phone, I took out my book.  She was lying on her tum, her feet dangling in the air, as she scrolled through whatever it was that had her attention.  A few moments later she turned to me and said, “Do you mind if Kaylee and her new boyfriend join us?”

“What?”

“Kaylee, remember Kaylee?”

Oh yes, I remembered Kaylee alright.  Lo had had a fling with her and her previous boyfriend.  I just didn’t understand how or why they would be joining us.

“She’s here!  On this beach,” Lo added.

“How do you know?”

“She just posted a pic of herself here and I reached out to her.”

“Oh, so you had already invited them to join us before asking me?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said in her conciliatory little girl voice.  “I thought you’d enjoy seeing her in what she’s wearing.”

“And what is she wearing?” I asked.

“Not much,” she said, showing me the image on her phone.

Kaylee was only in a very skimpy blue bikini.

“Well, I guess they can swing by,” I conceded reluctantly.  “But they need to be six feet away.  COVID Times, you know.”

“I know.”

As we waited for them to arrive, I taunted Lo with, “So, will Kaylee also come under your ‘female gaze’?”

“I don’t know if she’ll cum, but I might,” she retorted.

“Funny.”

“You know,” she said, schooling me, “the ‘female gaze’ isn’t simply when a woman oogles a man or a woman as an object the way men oogle women as objects.”

“Oh no?  What is it professor?”

“It’s a term of art to describe the point of view of a woman that gets at the interior life, thoughts, feelings, emotions of the woman.”

“That’s what the male gaze is too,” I said.  “However, it just so happens that men are simply one-dimensional, shallow, and single-mindedly focused on sex.”

“Does that include you?”

“Oh no.”

“No?”

“No, I am multi-dimensionally, deeply, and many-mindedly focused on sex.”

“That is true.  But how can you be ‘many-mindedly’?”

“It’s an expression, like, when one says, ‘I’m of two minds about such-and-such.’  I am of many-minds about sex.  All of them for it.”

“If only you had as many cocks for sex as you have minds for sex, I might be satisfied with only you.”

“I would look like some sort of Hindu god with that many cocks!”

“And I could be your consort.”

Kaylee and her new boyfriend, Keith, arrived.  You might remember both Kaylee and Keith from “The Love Elite,” the culminating story of the “Lust in the Dunes” series.  Well, since then, Kaylee broke up with Corey and started up with Keith.  Lo had been with all three of them, as you no doubt recall.

The two of them set up a pandemically prudent distance away from us, but not too far that we couldn’t talk.  They brought with them a cooler of beers that they willingly shared with us.

We caught up with each other, for it had been a long time since we had last seen them in person.

After about an hour of chit-chat, Lo and Kaylee were lying out.  Lo was reading a book and Kaylee said she didn’t have anything to read.  Lo reached into her bag and, to my great surprise, she pulled out the prototype of Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume II: MORE! that she had been reading and lent it to her.

“What’s this?” asked Kaylee.

“I know you liked 50 Shades,” said Lo.  “This is way better.  Let me know what you think of it when you’re done.”

A couple of hours passed as the sun descended in the sky, decreasing in intensity, mellowing to a warm, gentle ruddy hue.  We had swam and laughed, but now Lo said she had to pee.  Due to COVID, she was hesitant to use a public restroom.  And besides, the facilities were way down on the other end of the beach.

There was always the restaurant we had lunched in, but that wasn’t too close and the urge had snuck up on her.

“Go in the ocean,” coaxed Kaylee.

Lo shook her head ‘no.’

I knew what was in her mind.  She always likes to be sensational and provoke a reaction.  She’s secretly competitive and likes the partners of her friends to know that she is the most slutty, dirty, and depraved so that they secretly (or not-so-secretly) fantasize about her while with her friends.

“Does anyone mind if I, uh, you know, here?”

“Pee?” asked Kaylee with a laugh.

“Yeah.”

“In the sand?”

“Yeah.”

“You want us to go away?”

“Nah.  You can watch if you want.”

“Do it!” she said.

Lo sat on the edge of her folding chair, spread her legs wide, pulled her skimpy bikini bottoms slightly askew, exposing her silky-smooth pussy, and she let the stream pour into the fine golden sand.

A few seconds into her stream, I could detect that something was amiss.  I saw her fingers clench the edge of the chair, her legs begin to tremble, her breasts begin to heave.  And then, there it was, a seamless transition from micturition to hysterical paroxysm, complete with an uncontrollable emanation of fluid.  Unlike the first flow, this one was powerful and had an ascending trajectory.

Lo’s short shorts

Lo just bore down and said, “Fuck!” as she experienced the waves of unanticipated pleasure ripple through her flesh.

She was literally gushing with contradictory feelings: embarrassment, excitement, shame, pride, disgrace, abandon, power.  The complete loss of control of her bodily functions made her feel infantile, yet her almost superhuman ability to achieve an orgasm that spouts with greater force, volume, distance, and longevity than any man’s ejaculation filled her with a sense of superiority to both men and women.  All of her emotions occurred simultaneously and were expressed through her facial contortions, as though she were being deliciously tortured.

“Holy shit!” cried out Keith, for he had never seen anything like that in person before.

He got up and measured the distance from Lo to the end of the wet trail she left in the sand and calculated it to be about six feet.

“What just happened?” he asked.

“I’ve been having spontaneous squirting orgasms lately.  I don’t know why or what’s going on,” said Lo, blushing as red as the setting sun.  “I probably should see a doctor.”  Her pussy was still dripping like a leaky faucet.

“Or stop masturbating so much,” I added, almost under my breath, but not quite.

“Feel better?” asked Kaylee.

“No, that’s the thing.  It just makes me more horny for an intentional orgasm.”

There was an uncomfortable silence while we all contemplated what might happen next.  Then suddenly there was a strong, cool wind from the south that blew everything all over the place and kicked sand up in our faces.  We scrambled to collect our stuff and then we said a hasty goodbye as it looked like rain.

Back in the car, I looked at Lo.

“What?” she asked.

“You know what.”

“It was out of my control.”

“Not that.”

“Then what?”

“You gave her the book.”

“So?”

“So?!  I’ve written about her.  She’s in it!”

“Not in that volume.”

“Don’t you think that she can find the blog and quickly see that it’s you. . . and me?”

“So what?  I’m done with having to apologize for who I am.”

“If you’re fine with it, then so am I,” I said.

We were on the road for a bit.  The rain was thrashing against the windshield.  We sat, exhausted from a full day in the hot sun.  Silently we listened to the rhythm of the wipers and the crackle of the raindrops.  It was relaxing.

“What are you thinking about, Little Miss Puddle Pants?” I asked.

“Stop it.”

“Well?”

“I was thinking about the female gaze again.”

“Oh, reminiscing about the girls you jilled to?”

“No,” she said defensively.  “I was thinking how I like to be the object of the male gaze.”

“No kidding.”

“But that the way you write me, the way I am in the books, is much more of the female gaze.”

“How so?” I asked, glad to be talking of my writing.

“Well, yes, you portray me as a sex-starved, dirty, nasty, little nympho slut.”

“I. . .” I tried to protest.

“Don’t interrupt.  But, you also get me from the inside.  You see into me and portray how I see things.”

“A lot of people see into you,” I said, making a bad pun.  It took her a moment to get it.

“Not like that!  I’m serious.  You don’t write about me as one-dimensional.  You might depict one side of me more than the others.”

“And which side would that be?” I again quipped.

“But you portray me as who I am, who I really am.  And if Kaylee doesn’t appreciate that, then too bad for her.”

“And what happens when I, inevitably, write about today and she sees it on the blog?”

“Well, you wouldn’t write anything untrue about her, would you?”

“No.”

“So, she has nothing to get upset about.”

“Fair.”

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“Will you fuck me when we get home?” she asked as she began to doze off in the car.

“You’ll be asleep when we get home, dear.”

“Fuck me anyway.  You must be in so much pain after all that today,” she said as she reached down between my legs.  “I’d blow you now, but I think I need a nap.”

[If you liked this beach story, you’ll love the stories in our books: Sexy Shorts, Shorter Shorts, and our forthcoming Slut Life]

Must Read! Must Hear! Must See!

Posted on by
Reply

Hello to all of our friends in the blogosphere! We miss you! We see you!

Of course we’re disappointed that Eroticon was called off due to COVID this year. (Not that we could make it.) But we are grateful for the interwebs where we can connect with all of you in a socially safe, yet sexy way.

This is a little news update and the hard-sell for all the new and old stuff that you can get written by HH and featuring your truly, Lo your classy nympho.

You might notice a little bit longer between blog posts for us. That’s because HH has begun a new, long-form piece. Not exactly a novel (because not exactly fiction), but maybe a memoir of sorts. It will be called Rogue’s Gallery. He sees it as a film eventually and has made these creative promo posters for it.

 

 

 

 

 

In addition to this, our favorite narrator, the inimitable and premier erotica voice of Match, Cinder & Spark, Ms. Jupiter Grant, just completed the narration to Volume III: Writing Under Cover. It is out and for sale now on Audible and also Amazon.

You can hear my favorite excerpt from it here:

Though the audiobook lacks the stunning art that the hard-copy book has to offer, Jupiter Grant more than makes up for it with her seductive voice.

In addition to that, HH and I are working on the production of Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume VI: Slut Life. It’s a collection of stories that take place at the beach, on the water, or during the fun, slutty, summertime.  It was supposed to be out by now, but we ran into some production hangups. It should be available in early September. Keep an eye out.

Medicinal Masturbation

Posted on by
1

“Are you going to sleep, Daddio?” she asked, rubbing my flaccid member under the sheets.

“Guurerumph,” I inarticulately mumble.

“But what about me?”

“Sleep.”

She continued gently stroking my rod up and down with just her fingertips, ever-so-lightly.  I could feel my cock growing.  Her curious fingers moved lower, tickling my testicles.

“You’re so big.  So full.  Are you sure you want to sleep?”

No response.

After dallying on my scrotum for a while, she explored further down below, gently circling and prodding.

“Oh come on Daddy, I’m feeling randy!  What do I have to say?  What do I have to do?” she whined.

“Fine,” I said, groggy.  “Roll over and spread your legs.”

“But I’m on my period.  It’s heavy.  It will make a mess.”

“Grrrrrrr,” I grumbled.  “Now you’ve got me hard.”

“I didn’t do that.”

“You certainly had a hand in it.”

“Jack it for me.”

“Lo, I’m too tired to jack it.”

“I like seeing you jack it.”

“You like seeing anyone jack it, or jill it, or whatever it.”

“True, but I’m tired of being a boner donor and of just seeing cumtributes.  I want the full 4-D experience.”

“Four dicks?”

She laughed, “No, silly.  Though that would be nice.  Three dimensional, plus the added fourth dimension of the smell, taste, and feel of cum on me when you’re done.”

“Is that what they mean by 4-D?”

“That’s what I mean by it.”

By this point I was up and awake.

“Do you want me, Daddy?” she asked, despite having just told me I can’t have her.

“No,” I said out of frustration.

“Your Truth Stick says otherwise.”

“You can’t handle the truth,” I said.

“The truth is hard.”

“The truth is hard to swallow.”

She leaned over and looked up at me as her mouth descended on my ‘Truth Stick.’

“Fine,” I said.  “I’ll jack it.”

“You will?!”

“But only if you let me use Stoya.”

Now it was her turn to grumble.

“Why can’t you just jack it with your right hand like a real man?”

“Because I am a real man with real calluses on my hands.  Stoya feels better. . . and she makes you jealous.”

“Fine, I’ll take whatever I can get.  My fucking cramps are killing me.  You get Stoya all lubed up and I’ll be right back.”

She went into the bathroom and grabbed a heating compress.  She put it just above her Delta of Venus.

“OK, I’m ready to watch you now,” she said, her legs spread and her little tampon string dangling from between her pussy lips.

I stood over her, looking at her pussy, fucking Stoya’s.

Strings Attached

“That’s it, Daddio,” she said, encouraging me, her red tongue gliding over her white teeth.  She reached over the side of the bed and pulled out her glass dildo, ‘Glindo,’ as we call it, and her Hitachi Magic Wand.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Medicinal masturbation.  It will make me feel better.”

She applied the Hitachi to her clit as she inserted the dildo up, next to her tampon.

“Keep going,” she insisted.

Her various objects of sexual self-pleasure were blocking my view.  In order to enhance my excitement, she said, “You know what Kaylee told me the other day?”

I kept thrusting into Stoya, but I was listening.

“She said, ‘This guy I hooked up with told me that sometimes when he fucks girls, he pictures other girls in his mind.  But, when he is fucking me, he just pictures me.’  And you know what I told her?”

She didn’t really expect me to answer.

“I told her that when guys fuck other girls, they picture me.  In fact, they look at my naked photos to get hard for their wives and girlfriends.”

“What did she say to that?” I asked her.

“She called me a dirty slut.”

“Really?”

“She said I’m an attention whore and a nympho.”

“She knows you well.”

She dropped the Hitachi by her side.  “Fuck me, Daddy,” she said.

“What?”

“Fuck me.”

“You just told me not to because you’re on your period.”

“Shut up and get in me!”

I wasn’t in a position to argue with her.  I slid out of Stoya and into Lola, accompanied by her tampon and the dildo.

“Do you like to share me?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like it if there were two other cocks in me, instead of just this tampon and dildo?”

“Yes,” was all I could say.

“Me too,” she said and I could feel her begin to convulse under me.

It was so snug, yet so wet.  I was crushed, but I enjoyed the feeling of finally filling her up.

She could sense my body tensing in anticipation of cumming.  “Cum in me, Daddy,” she said.  “Fill me more.  Cum deep in me.  I’m your whore.”

I fulfilled her wish and then slid out.  I was still cumming.  She dropped her dildo and sat up and sucked everything she could out of me.  When she had extracted every last drop, she licked her lips and said, “You know what Joseph Campbell says?”

“That’s an odd thing to ask at this moment.  But I’ll bite.  What does Joseph Campbell say?”

“The demon you swallow gives you its power.”

“Do you feel powerful?”

“MmmmHmmmm,” she hummed.

She got up out of the bed and headed to the bathroom.

“Where are you going”

“I have to take out the fucking tampon you lodged in my throat!”

When she returned, I asked, “Did you get it?”

“Yes,” she said, “but I just remembered.”

“What’s that?”

“I have my OBGYN appointment first thing tomorrow morning.”

I pulled the covers over me and was quietly drifting off to sleep.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“You know what Benjamin Franklin says?”

“I’ll bite.  What does Benjamin Franklin say?”

“Early to bed, early to rise.”

“Well you better rise in the morning,” she said squeezing my cock with her hand, “cause I’m going to want more of this then.  It’s the only thing that relieves my cramps.”

“Don’t worry, the doctor will be in tomorrow.”

Substitutes

Posted on by
1

The plans for Robert’s engagement had to be postponed due to COVID-19.  Linda, his intended betrothed, was in Italy.  He was here in America.  His planned flight during spring break to visit her was cancelled.  Without Linda and without Lo, who was with me during quarantine in Florida, he regressed to his former self – that is, suffering from erectile dysfunction.

When Lo and I finally returned home from our temporary pandemic paradise, he was very eager to see her.  They had made a date.  Lo explained that there was no worry about social distancing with Robert because he hadn’t seen anyone or been with anybody since our departure back in February.  In addition, he was already prone to hypochondria and health anxiety, so he had taken every conceivable precaution to avoid contact with anyone.  He was a real Howard Hughes, only without the money, fame, and grandiosity.  The only exception he made to his rule was seeing Lo.  Madness drives us all.

Naughty School Girl

Lo was getting ready for her date with Robert.  She got out of the shower and was drying her hair.  I let out a cat whistle.  “Don’t get any funny ideas,” she says, “I’m already late.”

“I don’t have any funny ideas.”

“Good.”

“I have sexy ideas.”

“Most of your sexy ideas are pretty funny.”

“Like what?”

“Like your Stoya Fleshlight.  Why would you fuck her when you could fuck me?”

“Because you won’t fuck me.”

“When won’t I fuck you?”

“Like. . . now.”

“I have a date.”

“Well then,” I said, pulling out the Fleshlight, “so do I.”

“The hell you do!”she shrieked, grabbing the Fleshlight out of my hands.

“You’ll fuck me before him?” I asked, incredulously.

“I told you, I’m already late.”

“He’s waited this long, another hour won’t kill him.”

“An hour?!  How do you figure that you’ll need an hour to fuck me?”

“I was thinking two minutes to fuck you, but fifty-eight minutes for you to get dressed and do your makeup.”

“Funny.  You just. . .”

In the middle of her sentence, her phone rang.  It was Robert.  She answered it in her sweet, seductive, slutty voice.  “Hi Robert.”

There was some back-and-forth.  After hanging up, she said, “He’s coming over here.”

“What?  Why?”

“Apparently he couldn’t wait any longer.  He’s already in the car on his way.”

“Then we can do it!”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re the one who gets the sloppy seconds, not him.  And I also like to keep you in suspense.”

“Then give me back Stoya,” I said, reaching for the Fleshlight.

“I bet you’d like her, wouldn’t you?” she asked, as she put the cylinder between her legs, bent over, and made it appear that she had two pussies.

“That is inviting.”

“I told you, no funny ideas,” she said, attempting to walk around like that.

“You’re the comedian of this outfit,” I said.  She put the Stoya Fleshlight on the nightstand and began blow drying her hair, applying her makeup, and getting dressed.  She put on a special outfit just for Robert: naughty schoolgirl.

The bell rang and, as in the old days, I politely let Robert in with a collegial hello.  There was no need to point him in the direction of the bedroom.  He knew his way like a dog remembering where he buried his bone.  He hadn’t seen me in four months and yet blew right past me.  No formalities.  Not even the pretense of interest.  He was just interested in the sweet release induced by Lo spreading her knees.

I sat, frustrated, in the living room.  But before too long, I got a text from Lo summoning me.

I entered the bedroom and found the two of them in the sack.

“Daddio, Robert and I had a little idea,” she said, using a tone to match her outfit.

“What’s that?”

“Well, he’s having a little trouble.  It’s been a while since the equipment was last greaced and, well, we thought that a little role-reversal might help him to get it back up and in working order.”

“What sort of role-reversal?”  I was both curious and confused.

“Instead of Robert fucking me and you watching, Robert will watch as you fuck me.  How’s that sound?”

Lola Greeting Card

I was already hard.  I didn’t have to answer, I just removed my pants, unbuttoned my shirt, and lifted the short skirt Lo was wearing.  I got behind her and mounted her.  She was standing on the side of the bed and Robert was lying down in the bed, silently observing every expression of her face as I penetrated her from behind.

She gently stroked and tickled his testicles and she could see him getting aroused.

“You like that?” she asked.  “You like seeing your little slut getting fucked?  You like to see my ass get pounded?”

He was getting harder.

Lo called over her shoulder to me, “Fuck me like you mean it!”

I increased the tempo and force of my thrusts.

“You like seeing him slam me repeatedly like a screen door in a hurricane?”

I have to admit, I laughed at that simile.  But Robert was soberly serious.

Lo began to suck on his tumescent cock.

“Daddy,” said Lo over her shoulder again.

“What?” I asked, keeping up my aerobic gyrations.

“Can Robert use your Fleshlight?”

“What?!  No,” I said.

“You won’t share your Fleshlight with him, but you’ll share my pussy?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Fine,” she said, perturbed and lunging forward so I fell out of her slick clit.

She climbed up on the bed and slid down on Robert’s erect phallus.  “You can use Stoya while he gets the real thing!”

I went over to the nightstand and grabbed the instrument of self-pleasure, lubed her up, and slid her over my rod as I watched Lo exaggerate her enjoyment, specifically in order to piss me off, though it had quite the opposite effect.

Seeing that her affectations were not causing jealousy, she said to Robert, “Do you want my ass?”

“Yes,” he managed to mumble through his excited breathing.

She lifted up, grabbed her ass cheeks with both hands, spread them as far as they would go, and slid down slowly, gingerly on his lance.  Up-and-down she carefully bobbed, taking him a little deeper with each foray.  Soon enough she was down to the hilt of his cock.  She was making comments about how big it felt and how hard he was.  Her right hand moved to her clit and was rubbing it rapidly.

“Does it feel good?” she asked Robert.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’re so tight,” he said.

“Tighter than my pussy?”

“Much.”

“Why else?”

“Your pussy was so wet.  I didn’t even need lube.”

“I never need lube,” she said.  “Why else do you like it?”

“You’re such a dirty girl.”

“Go on.”

“Such a dirty slut.  A cum whore.  A fuck-toy.”

Lo’s love language is jealousy.  It turns her on to make me jealous.  And, conversely, her own jealousy (of other women or even of Stoya) makes her even more sexually aggressive, like she has something to prove.

“Do you think Linda would do this? – let you have her ass?”

Robert was reaching up to grab Lo’s breasts and cup them with his hands.

“Do you think Linda would let you cum in her ass?  Would she finger herself while you fucked her ass like I’m doing now?”

Indeed, Lo’s four fingers were curled and snug up inside her.

Robert pulled on her nipples.

“Smack my tits!” commanded Lo.  “Yes, pull them, smack them.”

I saw her head tilt back and I knew what would be coming next.

A powerful stream of amrita sprayed from her onto Robert as if putting out a fire burning on his chest as she screamed “FUCK!”

Simultaneously he came in her ass and I in Stoya, each of us grunting our own mantras to the goddess.

Lo quickly jumped off his throbbing hard meat and took it deep in her mouth as she looked up at him.  “Would your pure little bride Linda do this?” she asked as she licked him clean.  “Even if she fucks you, you’re still going to want your dirty little Lo to use and abuse,” she reminded him.

She cupped his balls and fondled them, changing her tone from dominatrix to endearing concubine, she asked, “Feel better?”

“Yes, yes,” was all he could emote.  She grabbed a towel from the side of the bed and wiped down the ejaculate from his chest, proud of her accomplishment.

After he was gone, she turned to me, her mood abruptly changing, and said, “You’re more jealous of Stoya than you are of me.”

“You’re right,” I said, surprised by my irrational preference, “I wouldn’t share my Fleshlight, but I would share my Lola.”

“Phhht,” she said, dismissively, “I take more pleasure in being shared anyhow.”

Full Up