Author Archives: Lola Down
Masochistic Masturbatory Melee
2
At the party
Masochistic Masturbatory Melee – Off the Record with ‘S’ Continued
Lola had to take a break and pull out her Magic Wand after the last segment of the interview was over. Something about it got her engine revving and that, in turn, meant that Mr. Hitachi’s engine was also buzzing away. I found her there, in the bed, naked, her computer to one side, her legs up in the air, bent at the knees, her right hand holding the giant white instrument between her legs. But, unlike her usual use of the upside-down white ice cream cone, where she just applies it to her sopping pussy, this time she was using it like a cudgel. She was violently pounding the bulbous head of the thing against her pussy as if hammering a nail home. It was vibrating, but, so it seemed to me, her sexual stimulation was from the repeated strikes of force. I feared she was going to bruise her lovely, delicate labia. Instead of bright pink, they’d be violet and mauve! I stood in awe of this masochistic masturbatory melee until, as if breaking down the wall of a dike, she suddenly sprung a huge leak and she pressed the spherical bulb of the vibrator against her gushing pussy as if to stop the broken dam. But her blocking the source of the river only caused it to flood more until she finally ran out of energy and the mysterious fountain of youth went temporarily dry.
She was panting in bed and I slowly slid in next to her.
“What was that?” I asked in a whisper.
“What was what?” she asked, her pupils still dilated.
“The new pounding technique with your slick sledgehammer there.”
“Punishment.”
“Punishment? For what?”
“For liking what I shouldn’t.”
It was then that she passed me her computer to read the “off the record” part of the interview.
“I don’t think we can post this,” I said.
“No, we can’t. It’s off the record,” she said, as she slowly returned to the land of the living.
“I meant, it’s – well, it’s. . .” I was searching for the words.
“A touchy subject?” Lo suggested.
“To say the least.”
“You should hear what else she told me.”
“I’ve got time.”
It was Saturday and I was still in my pajamas. Lo turned toward me, her breasts seeming to demand my attention.
“Well,” she began, “I couldn’t transcribe the story fast enough.”
“Because you were typing with one hand?”
“Daddy. Please.”
“So, I’m right.”
“Do you want to hear her story or not?”
“You have me – a captive audience.”
She grabbed me by the balls and said, “Very captive.”
“Stroke my cock as you tell me the story and I’ll be completely captivated.”
She complied.
Here’s the gist of the story.
The events of the ‘boys being boys in the basement’ had happened toward the end of the school year. Then it was summer vacation and S has an inground pool that kids who are too old for high school but too young (and rich) for a summer job congregate to on hot days. The added benefit of seeing S suntanning by the pool was certainly an incentive for those young, horny boys to flock to her house and do belly flops and cannon balls into the cool, blue pool in a pathetic, but cute attempt to get her attention.
Though the boys came by regularly and there were a lot of scenes which S could describe for your lurid and prurient entertainment, three days of the summer stand out as extra perverse.
The first was Memorial Day. S and her husband, let’s call him Dale, threw a party for their friends, neighbors, and their son’s friends, as well as the kids’ parents. Dale was very excited to man the grill on the backyard patio while his guests enjoy the pool and other amenities. S and Dale live in the southern U.S. and, though Memorial Day is in May, it is warm enough to want to swim in their part of the country by the end of April.
The party started off fine with some of the friends and neighbors arriving in small groups of twos and fours. A couple of S’s son’s friends arrived and they were the first in the pool. S, herself, was wearing a white t-shirt (no bra, no bikini top under it) and her Daisy-Dukes jeans shorts as she flitted from one small group of their guests to another. Her rather provocative sartorial choices were not so provocative among this crowd of church-going, boob-job revealing, shorts and cowboy boots wearing MILFs in their thirties and early forties. In fact, it was more of the rule than the exception. The only difference was, S had been in porn posted on the internet and her son’s friends knew that, though the parents supposedly didn’t.
Dale was wearing his cargo shorts and a button-down, patterned, short-sleeve shirt and flip-flops. He was prepping the steaks, burgers, dogs, and the marinated vegetables he was going to fire up on his enormous Weber grill. He had a wide grin on his face, flashing those large white teeth of his, as he carried his cold beer from place-to-place, greeting his guests in between taking the food out to the chef’s station on the patio.
All was going well until S went inside to use the master bath to pee and caught one of the boys rummaging through her panty drawer in the bedroom.
“Now, what are you doing in there?” she asked, without judgment and with a little amusement in her voice.
The poor kid turned around and a more guilty face had never been seen. His entire complexion was scarlet and he was near trembling, even as his right hand grasped tightly a red lace thong.
“I, I, I – I,” he stammered, not saying anything more.
“Were you looking through my panties?”
“Yes, yes ma’am,” he managed to say through his dry mouth.
“You like my panties?”
Again, he was only able to answer monosyllabically, “Yes.”
S shut the door and said, “Well, now. If you don’t want to get into trouble for stealing my undergarments, take down that bathing suit and put on those panties you’re holding and then put your bathing suit back on. You may have them, but that’s the only way to get them out of here.”
The boy’s complexion deepened from scarlet to near purple. But he didn’t say anything in response. He just slowly removed his boxer bathing suit, exposing his small, but rigid penis to S, who looked on in a supervisory sort of way, and then he slid the red lace thong up and over his hard penis.
“Now,” said S, “how’s that?”
The boy just looked down in silence.
“They look a little big on you, but then again, you’re small,” she said. She reached forward, pulled the elastic band of the panties with her left hand, put her right hand down and fondled the boy’s parts to get them even more riled up.
“Maybe,” she said, looking at him, “we should put one of my dresses over you and send you back out to the party like that.”
He looked positively petrified that she was in earnest.
“Oh, I’m just kidding with you,” she finally said, laughing. “You can’t wear that. You have to grow up some more to fit into my panties. Take them off and put your bathing suit back on and get going.”
The poor punished thief did as she said and he skedaddled right out of the bedroom to be back with his friends, including S’s son.
S laughed about it to herself.
Much later in the day, after the guests had eaten, drank a lot of beer and other, stronger beverages, swam, and drank some more – all under the hot sun of the clear sky – S changed into her bikini and got in the pool. Her bikini was skimpier than the other MILFs’ swimwear at the party. It was two small white triangles on top, barely covering her areolae and transparent when wet, and a similarly small white triangle, pointing in the opposite direction down below, held in place by strings no thicker than shoelaces.
The boys’ jaws dropped when they saw her. She smiled at them and slowly descended into the pool. She swam exactly one lap and then emerged out of the pool like Venus emerging from the sea. All three tiny white triangles were transparent. Her nipples were clearly visible under the thin fabric and her shaved slit could be seen through the lower triangle, dividing it into two equal triangles.
She ignored the stares of the boys and their parents and walked over to bar and grabbed herself another drink.
A while later she noticed that none of the boys were outside. She figured they had gone inside and were playing video games in the basement again. She was worried they’d sit on the leather couches with their wet bathing suits. She went inside and down to the game room. No one was there.
She was surprised. Where could a gaggle of teenage boys disappear to?
She went back out to the party. She looked around. She walked out front. She could hear the boys’ voices. She looked in the two-car garage window and saw them. They had stolen a bottle of whiskey or brandy or something and were daring each other to take a swig. In between dares, they were talking.
“Did you see Mrs. P–?” said one of the boys.
“Damn, she’s hot! Hotter in person than on the videos.”
“Hey, that’s my mom you’re talking about!”
The boys ignored him.
“All dripping wet.”
“And that bikini!”
“You could see every-thing.” He pronounced the word slowly, emphasizing each syllable.
“And I liked what I saw!”
“You did, did you?” said S as she walked around the corner of the garage and caught them red-handed and full of braggadocio. Suddenly, they weren’t so bold anymore. In fact, they were quite craven.
“Mrs. P–!” said one of them, as another tried to hide the bottle.
“I saw what you did,” she said.
Guilty faces all around. So guilty, in fact, S wondered if maybe they did more than just steal a bottle of booze.
“Give it here,” she said to them, stretching out her arm.
Her son placed the bottle in her palm.
“Fuck! Really?! The Johnnie Walker Blue Label? You couldn’t just take the Wild Turkey?
“Sorry,” said one of the boys, shame faced.
“Sorry?! That’s not gonna cut it. Turn around, all of you,” she said commandingly, as she walked to the big blue plastic bucket in which they kept their game stuff. She pulled out a Ping-Pong paddle. “Pull your bathing suits down,” she said.
“What?!” asked one of the boys, turning to look at her.
“Turn around, pull your suits down, and bend over. Now!”
She sounded mean, like a drill sergeant, but she was laughing to herself.
The boys complied.
She first looked at all their cute little butt-cheeks lined up in a row. Then she started paddling from the left to the right. It was only one paddle each, but it was a hard, firm whap! Each one let out a little cry as their turn was up. Then she said, “Now, turn around.”
One of the boys began to pull up his suit.
“Did I say to do that? Keep your trunks down around your knees.”
They obediently complied and turned around awkwardly. Some of them were soft, others hard. She looked them over.
“I should call your mothers in here and tell them what you were up to – that I caught you having a circle jerk. How would you like that?”
“No ma’am,” said one of the boys, almost in tears.
“Don’t worry. I won’t do that. But don’t let me catch you drinking again! There will be no underage drinking under my roof!”
She turned and began to leave. She stopped at the threshold to the garage, put her right arm up on the side of the entrance, lifted her right leg, and looked back over her shoulder at the boys, all of whom were staring at her ass in the itsy-bitsy, tiny white thong.
“If you’re good, when we have our annual Fourth of July party, maybe you’ll get something special that will make your bottle rockets pop.” Then she walked away.
Three white triangles
[To Be Continued]
Off the Record with ‘S’
A while ago, Lola conducted an interview with a hotwife, MILF, amateur porn-star named ‘S’ (you can probably figure out who she is). During the interview, S’s story took an interesting turn that was, then, off the record. Since then S has given up the porn production (because certain family members found out and pressured her and her husband to stop) and so now we bring you the part we had to leave out then, but we won’t be saying who exactly this is for, well, obvious reasons.
Artist’s rendering of the story
Lola to ‘S’: “Your son’s friends don’t know about your porn?”
‘S’ replied, “I didn’t say that. Is this off the record?”
“If you want it to be.”
“Please.”
“OK.”
“Like I said, one of our friends found out about the homemade porn we were making and posting. They thought it would be. . . I don’t know what. . . funny to tell our other friends.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah. So we had to tell our sons. They would find out from someone sooner or later and it was better to be from us than from one of their friends at school.”
“Of course.”
“So we told them. The oldest didn’t want to know anything more. He’s out of the house and was like, ‘Whatever Mom.’ But our younger son. He had just started high school, so it could have been devastating for him.”
“Of course!”
“To our surprise, he had so many questions!”
“Like what?”
“Why? Who? How often?”
“Did you tell him?”
“Yes. Of course. We wanted to be honest.”
“How did he handle it?”
“He eventually accepted it – all of it.”
“That’s amazing!”
“Well, he’s pretty mature for his age.”
“I’d say.”
“But his friends eventually found out.”
“News of a mom making homemade porn spreads faster than news of a mom making homemade cookies, I guess.”
“Especially among young boys with raging hormones, just emerging out of a pandemic lockdown.”
“I can only imagine,” said Lo, dreamily.
“And they started jacking off to my films.”
“How’d you find out about that?”
“That’s an interesting story.”
“Do tell!”
“Well, one day his friends came over after school.”
“OK.”
“And they were playing video games and drinking soda and, you know, usual stuff.”
“Yeah.”
“But then I popped into the basement – that’s where they had the game console set up.”
“I can picture it.”
“I offered them some chips and other snacks or drinks, but they all just looked at me like I had three heads – or three tits!”
“That clued you in.”
“Yeah.”
“Then what?”
“I found out that after I had left the room, one of them said, ‘Can we turn off the game and watch your mom on Pornhub?’ My son was like, ‘No! Absolutely not!’ But his friends overruled him and they turned it on. The one who had asked to watch it knew exactly how to find it. ‘That’s your mom?!’ the others asked. They couldn’t believe it!”
“I bet.”
“They asked my son if I would come downstairs again. He called me and I walked downstairs with more snacks for them. They had turned the video game back on and pretended like they weren’t just watching porn of me. I happened to be tanning outside when he called and so they saw my tattoos and knew right away that it was really me and not just a look-alike. One of them was bold enough to say, ‘Mrs. P–, what’s it like to make those videos?’ I was taken aback and I said, ‘What are you talking about?’ He said, with a smirk, ‘You know. We were just watching it.’ They turned it back on to show me. It was a vid of me with two other men.”
“That’s mortifying!”
“Well, I had to accept it, right?”
“I guess.”
“It was my choice, after all. Mine and my husband’s.”
“What happened next?”
“I said, ‘It’s just for fun,’ like I didn’t care what they did. As if I was talking about gardening as a hobby or something.”
“And?”
“Well, they clamored, ‘Will you have fun with us?’”
“Bold!”
“Yes. But they were at an age that they’d say anything that popped into their heads.”
“What did you say?”
“I thought I’d challenge them. A game of chicken that I thought I’d win. I said, ‘Pull down your pants and find out.’”
“Also bold! What did they do?”
“To my shock and surprise, they did! I was faced with five pubescent penises standing at attention as I stood in my skimpy bikini holding a bowl of chips!”
“What about your son?”
“He was there. He watched. He didn’t take down his pants. His face blushed.”
“And?”
“I said, ‘You all jack off, right?’ They nodded. I pulled my bikini bottom up tight so that my labia were flapping down over the taught string and said, ‘Well, tonight you can masturbate to the thought of this.’”
“That’s amazing! Did they pull up their pants with a smile on their faces?”
“No. The same boy who asked me about the porn, said, ‘I want you now!’”
“And?”
“Well, I can’t lie, I was intrigued to see how these kids could do.”
“No!”
“He started jacking off right there, in front of me and in front of his friends.”
“What did you do?”
“I watched.”
“Just watched?”
“Well, I’ll admit, I got wet. I could feel my juices dripping down my inner thighs.”
“And?”
“He stared at my pussy lips as they enveloped the G-string and stroked so hard until he came. He came so much and so powerfully and so far!!!! It landed on my bare feet!”
“What happened next?”
“I said, ‘Feel better?’ He could hardly speak, but he nodded ‘Yes.’ I said, ‘Good. Now the rest of you can go home and do the same, but this is our little secret, ok?’ No one said anything. I added, ‘If you ever want something like this to happen again, you’ll agree, this is our little secret. OK?’ They all agreed.”
“And what did you do?”
“I turned around slowly, so they could get a good glimpse of my ass, and went upstairs. I went to my bedroom, got on the bed, pulled out my dildo, and went to town on my holes thinking about all those little eager cocks standing at attention for my pussy. I thought about them all watching porn of me getting fucked and masturbating to me and I came so hard that I had to change all the bedding!”
“Did you tell your husband?”
“Not right away.”
To be continued…
Ultimate Bush
Lola’s two favorite toys
Lo was on the bed next to me, her Hitachi in one hand vibrating her clit and her horse-cock dildo in the other, filling her hungry hole. I was sitting up reading the day’s news, waiting for her third orgasm. With her, they always come in threes. That morning, the first was with me. It was one of those wonderful, Saturday morning, simultaneous climax situations where her moaning and saying, “Daddy, I’m cumming,” produced just the opposite of what she wanted. She wanted to make me harder, to penetrate her deeper, and desire her desperately. Instead, as often happens, the seductive sound of her voice coaxed my one and only orgasm right out of me and into her. Luckily, the feel of my essence spouting out of me and pouring into her was enough to cause her first peak to be somewhat satisfying, if only as an appetizer.
She then continued to orgasm number two by pulling out her phone and scrolling through the many photos she had received recently of men in panties. The ones she likes the most are the married men who surreptitiously steal their wives’ panties, put them on, and play with themselves to her photos until they ejaculate in the red, black, or white lace panties and then put them back in their wives’ drawer for them to discover later – maybe when they’re late for work and hurriedly slip into the first panties they grab, unknowingly putting on the sperm encrusted underwear.
That orgasm was even better than the first, which was not a very complimentary commentary for me.
Then it was onto the Big O. In the trifecta of orgasms, this third is the one that wins. The second (performed by her fingers alone) places. And the first (the one with me) only shows. You can see, her number system is just the opposite of a horse race. Speaking of horses, that was exactly what she went for that morning – her Exotic-Erotics Remus Horse Cock Dildo. That, in combination with her Hitachi Magic Wand, is the gold standard of her orgasms, only outdone by having something – a princess plug, her finger, my cock, someone else’s cock – in her ass. That orgasm would be platinum and, that plus simultaneously sucking on tits, pussy, clit, or cock would be the diamond award. But that is the rarest of rare.
Apologies for the digression into Lo’s ranking system.
Back to our story. Once she had successfully mounted her highest peak that morning, ejaculating all over the covers, she rested in her puddle of pure delight.
Once I could tell she had regained her cognitive functioning again, I said to her, “Did you see what Kim Kardashian’s brand of fashion came out with this week?”
“Skims?”
“Yeah, Skims.”
“No. What?”
“They released a new line of thongs called pubic hair panties.”
“What the hell is that?”
Kim Kardashian Skims Pubic Hair Panties Ultimate Bush
“I think the name aptly describes it. Basically, a reinvention of the merkin. They call it ‘Ultimate Bush.’”
“Let me see!” she said.
I showed her the images from my phone. She took my phone out of my hand and began masturbating again, pulling on her thick bush.
“I say, skip the panties, keep the pubic hair.”
“Are you really going to go for a fourth orgasm?” I asked in disbelief.
“You know what they say, ‘Go fourth and prosper.’ You want me to prosper, don’t you?”
Why not camel toe panties?
She dropped my phone and had her eyes closed as she fondled herself. After yet one more orgasm – not nearly as violent as her third – she opened her eyes and hugged me.
“What were you thinking about?”
“When?”
“The thought that brought you to climax, what was it?”
“Oh, I was just thinking if Skims expanded their Ultimate Bush panties to a bikini line. I was picturing all the women and girls wearing them on the beach. That really got my juices flowing.”
Only use real human hair or faux fur.
“Normalize Cuckolding” Content Creator Roxy Interviewed by Lola Down
Questions for Roxy – the hotwife of Ben and Roxy who run the website “Normalize Cuckolding”:
Roxy Dover and Ben
Roxy, Ben, and Bull
L: How did each of you get into the lifestyle?
R: We actually met while swinging. Ben had been in the lifestyle for like 10 years before we met. He started swinging right out of high school and has never had a monogamous relationship. Me and my ex husband have always had threesomes and other group activities since high school. After we kinda cheated on each other a bunch we decided to open things up a little more formally. After a few weeks of hooking up with Ben we realized there was something going on between us and that we were in very bad marriages. One thing led to another and we ended up getting divorced and we married each other. I know one of the rules of swinging is to not fall in love, so we call this our swinger fail.
Roxy Dover
L: When did you decide to launch “Normalize Cuckolding” and why?
R: A few years back we were joking around about me wanting to bring a boyfriend with us to various places and events and that we should “normalize cuckolding” so I could openly do that without any of the negative connotations that come with that. It was kinda a joke between Ben and me and then he used it in some of our promotional work. People really took to it and it kinda took off. After a while we decided to lean into it and do seminars, podcasts, and set up a whole site dedicated to it.
Roxy’s Puffy Pussy
In reality, “Normalize Cuckolding” is really about not kink shaming. While we want to reduce the stigma of being a cuckold, because none of the stereotypes are close to being true in most situations, we also want people to be able to explore whatever they enjoy without the fear of what other people think or how they are going to react. We have one trip through life; everyone should be able to enjoy it how they want. As long as what you are doing isn’t hurting anyone, you should feel free to do what makes you happy.
Roxy’s Mons Pubis
Roxy Can’t Get Enough!
L: What has been the response to “Normalize Cuckolding”?
R: People love it. There really hasn’t been any negative response and in fact it seems to have helped people. We often get emails or DMs from people we have helped get into the lifestyle through our content. What was really cool was that at Exxxotica 2024 NJ, 2 young guys came over to our booth and we were talking and one of them started to say how cuckolds are just weak, little men who can’t satisfy their wives. I then asked 6’7″ 400lbs Ben to come over to join the conversation. Not only did that shut him down, but his friend actually schooled him on all of the positives of cuckolding and the reality of what most cucks are like. So, for the most part, it seems to help others understand the kink and is helping others understand it a bit better.
Roxy’s Brand
Roxy puts out the call
That Glaze!
L: Best cuck experience you’ve had so far?
R: We got an AirBnB and a hotel room. I took Ben to the hotel room and made him get naked and locked his PA piercing to a kettlebell so he couldn’t move or do anything. I then went to the AirBnB and spent the night with a very well-hung bull. It was the best sex of my life. After fucking all night, I went and got Ben from the hotel room but sat on his face and made him clean my very full, very sore pussy first. Then I brought him back to the AirBnB so he could make sure he thanked my bull before he left. This was one of the hottest things we have done.
L: When did you bring Kallie Freya into the mix and what’s the story behind “Crimson Chaos”?
R: We were shooting at Exxxotica and Moses brought her to our room to shoot a threesome scene. The chemistry between us was electric. It was clear there was a connection between us. After that we became very close friends and started to work together. Both of us being redheads, we decided on the name Crimson Chaos. Currently our schedules and lives are kinda pulling us apart, but Kallie is one of the most authentic, friendly, caring people you could ever meet.
Kallie Freya and Roxy Dover
Kallie and Roxy on Vacation
Kallie and Roxy
Kallie and Roxy – Killer Curves
Kallie and Roxy share an intimate moment
Kallie and Roxy normalize cuckolding together
L: Favorite porn stars (amateur or professional)?
R: Every single person I have worked with has been amazing. Either we are doing a great job vetting talent or most porn stars are awesome people, but the vast majority of the time I walk away from a shoot wanting to work with the person again. Also, being in the industry you grow a deep respect for what other talent is going through. This is a nonstop grind where you have to keep moving. Being a porn star is not easy. When collaborating with others, they become your partner in this so it’s really hard to select just a few who are my favorites. Now I do have a small list of people I will not work with, but I’m going to keep that to myself.
Kallie has some moves of her own.
L: Favorite films, books, or TV shows?
R: There is a pretty sweet collection of books called Match, Cinder & Spark; they are pretty good. We don’t watch many movies, but for TV we are usually binge watching something from years ago. We are currently watching “Everybody Loves Raymond,” just finished “Home Improvement.” I always have “New Girl” on during the day when I’m home. I like simple and funny things to watch; nothing that’s going to make me depressed or over tax my brain to think about…..comfort shows
L: How does your hotwife/cuck relationship compare with what you’ve read in the Match, Cinder & Spark books?
R: Every hotwife/cuck relationship is different. It seems in the book there is a loving primary relationship with a dominant partner who loves how slutty the other one is. Our relationship is kind of like that. Real cuckold relationships are rooted in love. I hate when guys ask me to cuck them; it’s simply not possible. I don’t love them. There is no way you can truly understand what it feels like to be a cuck or a hotwife if it’s not done in a loving relationship. I also like when Ben is dominant when we are together. I’m naturally submissive and some of the stuff I want to explore, like say knife play, can only be done with someone I trust. The issue we run into is that Ben also prefers to be submissive and craves that loss of control. So, in our relationship when we are alone, Ben is more of a switch.
Kallie and Ben
L: What would your dream date with me entail?
R: I’m Bi so I always enjoy a sexy lady like yourself. I’m also a size queen, so I love big dick as well. So, for me a dream date would be: we get a nice hotel room, enjoy each other for a bit, order a pizza, cause I love to see a curvy woman like you eat naked and be fucked, and then invite over a few well-hung studs to pound us the rest of the night. Maybe we kick them out when they are done and we can cuddle while eating some cake and watching TV as we fall asleep together.
L: What can we expect from you in the near future?
R: Just plugging away at the website and trying to further the normalize the cuckolding movement. Also, we have gotten into VR porn over the last few years and I think I’m going to make a bigger push with that this upcoming year.
L: Thanks so much! This has been fun!
Come and Get It!
Summertime: Dogs, Wieners, and Buns
Woof!
“Hello?” Lo said, answering her phone after looking at it with a quizzical look. She didn’t recognize the number.
“Oh, Hi Scarlett!” said Lo into her phone, smiling and twirling her hair.
The rest is the one sided phone call I eavesdropped.
“No, that’s fine.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes. Completely.”
“Got it. Yes. I will.”
“Thank you. See you then!”
Lo hung up the phone and I could see that she was twitterpated.
“What was that all about?” I asked, a tad disturbed to see her so visibly affected by someone else’s voice.
“That was my editor.”
“Editor?”
“You know, for Collin’s project.”
“Which project is that? He has so many, I get confused.”
“Oh right. The Wank-a-Way.”
She laughed. “It’s not a Wank-a-Way. It’s going to be a respectable museum.”
“Where men can go to wank off or be wanked off by a certified technician.”
“Well, yeah. Like that, but. . .”
“But Collin has a way of making it sound more sophisticated.”
“Yes.”
“You best not be caught in there – I have a feeling he’ll get busted for prostitution within days!”
“It’s not prostitution.”
“I know, I know,” I said, repeating her oft invoked claim that “It’s a sperm donation site with fine art and technical assistants on hand for, well, to lend a hand.”
“That’s better.”
“Anyhow, what did your editor want?”
“I gave her a few binders full of women last week. . .”
“There’s got to be a better way of saying that,” I interrupted.
“And she said she wants to do a room that is just about summertime.”
“OK,” I said.
“So, she wants me to come over today and show her what I have in order to examine the possibilities.”
“Is that how she phrased it?”
“Yeah, almost word-for-word. You know I have a quasi-photographic memory.”
“For certain things,” I said. She knew what I meant because I knew that she meant she can remember just about every image of porn she’s ever cum to and every word her lovers have spoken in the heat of passion. It’s really an uncanny skill.
“Why?”
“It sounds like she has ulterior motives.”
“I sure hope so. She is hot!”
“I’m so glad for you,” I said and I couldn’t help sounding bitter.
“Oh,” she immediately chimed in, “are you jealous? Jealous of my editor?” She was rubbing the back of my head and looking concerned, but her tone was one of teasing.
“No, I’m not jealous.”
“Good,” she said, just as quickly stopping her caresses and ending her concerned tone, “because I have to get ready.”
“Get ready? Ready for what?”
“To meet her, silly. What should I wear?”
“Today? Sunday? She ‘s working? You’re going to meet her?”
I followed her from the living room to the bedroom. She was already going through her panty drawer. It is extensive.
“Which ones should I wear? Or maybe none at all? No. That would look too desperate. Or slutty? It might look slutty. And she might like that. But what if it just looks like I want to fuck her? But I do want to fuck her.”
“Lola,” I interrupted her dialogue with herself, “are you telling me you’re going over there today?”
“Yes, of course today,” she said as she slipped into her pink lace thong.
“But weren’t we going to. . .”
“I’m sorry, I have to cancel.”
“Because your pussy is aching to kiss her pussy?”
“That’s a crude way of saying it,” she said. “But I like it and it is accurate.”
I sat down on the bed, dejected.
She noticed.
“Aw,” she said, “I’m sorry. I’d let you fuck me but I don’t want to be stretched out for her, nor do I want to be filled up with cum. I don’t know her that well yet. She might not like it.”
I wasn’t talking. I just watched her get dressed.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”
She was applying her makeup. She leaned over her bureau and looked carefully at her eyes as she penciled on the eyeliner. Her ass was protruding outward from under her short black skirt and her breasts were exposed on the bottom from under her pink cutoff top, no bra.
After she finished her mascara, she turned and asked me, “Do I look too slutty?”
“Too slutty for what?”
“You know, too slutty.”
“Darling,” I said to her, condescendingly, “can a person be too rich, too healthy, too good? No. Of course not. And similarly, Lola Down can never be too slutty.”
“Oh,” she said, “you’re no help. I should have known better than to ask a perv like you if I’m too slutty.” As she said this, she slipped out of the pink lace thong she had just put on and she held it to her nose and sniffed.
“What?” I inquired.
“Wet already. Ah well, I’ll just throw them in here in case.” And she stuffed the panties in her little bag.
She put on her strappy black leather heels and then gathered up some more binders. She piled them about five high in a stack.
“Summertime, eh?” I asked, fingering the binders.
“Yeah, you know: dogs, wieners, and buns.”
“Are you listing three foods or naming what you like to fuck you, what you like to put in your mouth, and what you like to see on the beach?”
“I don’t have to be subjected to such ridicule,” she said, haughtily as she picked up her binders.
“Well, tell Scarlett I say hello.”
“I most certainly will not!”
“Then be sure to. . .”
She didn’t let me finish. She was out the door and hopping in her car. She gave a “toot toot” from the street and waived with her fingers at me as she drove away.
She was driving to Scarlett’s house, not the office, since it was Sunday.
Lo arrived at Scarlett’s suburban house. It was quaint. Built in the fifties, it retained the façade of clean, wholesome, country living. As Lo pondered it, sitting in the driveway looking at the white house with red shutters, she thought that it was the sort of house you might see in Home & Garden. All the flowers were in bloom. Everything was perfectly placed to look just a little out of sorts, but by design rather than by chance.
Lo grabbed her binders and strutted to the front door. She rang the bell. Through an intercom, she heard Scarlett say, “Just come in. It’s open.”
Lo opened the front door that was, indeed, left ajar. She stepped into the entrance way and heard Scarlett’s voice ring out, “In here!”
Lo followed the sound of the sing-song voice to the kitchen where she found Scarlett sitting at a portable desk in her kitchen. Lo looked around and marveled at the incongruity between Scarlett’s sexy red lips, her disheveled hair that Lo just wanted to grab as she forced her to face fuck Lo’s clit, Scarlett’s seductive cleavage revealed by the strategically nonchalant blouse that was unbuttoned just enough, and the kitchen, which could have been right out of her grandparent’s house.
Scarlett was looking down at some notes she had scribbled next to the portfolio Lo had left with her last time. But what caught Lo’s eye was that Scarlett was drinking from one of the limited edition tea cups made with Lo’s naked hips in full color on it.
“Hi,” said Lo, bashfully.
“What did you bring for me today?” asked Scarlett, getting right down to business.
“Well, you asked for a spread of ‘Summertime,’ right?”
“Yes.”
“Here you go.”
Lo felt oddly like a religious supplicant bringing an offering to her goddess, placing it before her for the goddess to approve or disapprove.
Scarlett looked through the photos. As she turned the pages, she said, “You took my words literally.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dogs, wieners, and buns.”
Beach Babes
Wet and wild Bryana Sparks it up in the pool
Daizha Morgann
Daizha Morgann
Jennifer Battistoni Kincade
Jennifer Battistoni Kincade
Jennifer Battistoni Kincade
All Bodies are Beautiful
Beach Babes
Buns
“Well, I aim to please. Do you not like them?”
“Oh, I like them a lot. Especially this one,” she said, pointing to. . .
Just then, startling Lo, a large dog came bursting into the kitchen from the back door. He was wet and muddy, and he immediately stuck his cold, moist snout up and under Lo’s short skirt and began licking rapidly and with the enthusiasm that only a happy-go-lucky devil-may-care dog can have.
“Woe there!” exclaimed Lo in a high-pitched voice.
“Down Reilly! Down!”
The dog paid no heed to his mistress.
“Reilly!” commanded Scarlett once more. He just continued to lick and nudge at Lo’s bottom, pushing her forward into the kitchen island until she had to brace herself with her arms holding onto the granite countertop. He began to get up on his hind legs. Scarlett jumped to action and grabbed him by his collar, careful not to let his wet and muddy fur soil her cute dress. She pulled him down, off of Lo, who spied from the corner of her eye that the friendly furry fiend had a large, pink, wet erection.
“I’m so sorry,” said Scarlett in a rare display of contrition. “He goes wild for women.”
“Oh,” fluttered Lo, trying to be polite, but displaying her confused emotions in her voice, “it’s ok.”
“It’s just the two of us here. He’s the man of the house, if you will, and just loves to dominate any woman who walks in the door.”
“So, I’m nothing special.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” said Scarlett as she led Reilly out the back door and threw a tennis ball for him to fetch, before shutting the door and making sure it was securely shut. Lo could hear Reilly when he returned scratching at the door and whimpering pathetically to be let back in. “He shows unusual exuberance for you. He must detect something very special about you.”
“His name is Reilly?”
“Yeah,” laughed Scarlett. “He always reminded me of the actor, John C. Reilly, so I called him Reilly.”
“I can see the resemblance.”
“As a result, I have a mad crush on John C. Reilly,” added Scarlett enigmatically. Scarlett looked at Lo’s bare legs and her skirt. “Oh no! Look at you! You’re a mess!”
Lo’s legs were splattered in mud and she was dripping from her inner thighs. Dripping from the wet dog or from the wet pussy? Not clear. Probably both.
“It’s nothing,” said Lo politely and demurely. “I enjoy being a dirty girl.” Her turn to be enigmatic.
“No, no,” said Scarlett. “We must clean you up. Come.”
Scarlett led Lo to the large bathroom on the first floor. It too was white tile and looked very mid-century. It had a large, white porcelain, claw-foot tub in it.
“Here,” said Scarlett, “sit.” She patted the edge of the tub.
Lo removed her strappy heels and swung one leg then the other over the edge of the tub.
“Let me clean you up,” said Scarlett, running the water and testing to see if it was too hot or too cold. When it got to the temperature she approved of, she wet down a washcloth. “Here, give me that pretty foot of yours.”
Lo lifted her left leg and allowed Scarlett to hold it with one hand, cupping the ankle with her palm, and ever-so-gently wipe it down with the warm washcloth with the other hand.
Involuntarily, Lo let out a long moan.
She heard herself and caught herself and said, “Sorry. . . it feels so good.”
“No need to be sorry,” said Scarlett, staring deeply into Lo’s eyes a second too long.
She looked back down at Lo’s leg as if embarrassed, and then slowly wiped Lo’s shin, from the knee down. Then she rinsed out the washcloth and rung it out before daring to start again at the middle of Lo’s thigh. She ran the wet cloth all the way down, ever-so-slowly, down to Lo’s toes. Lo bit her lower lip and moaned again.
Rinse, repeat, but this time Scarlett dared to lift Lo’s dress up above her waist.
“No knickers,” observed Scarlett in a non-judgmental, flat tone.
Lo giggled. “That’s such a funny word – knickers,” said Lo.
“Panties,” corrected Scarlett.
“When I hear the word ‘knickers,’ I think of a sixty-year-old English woman who milks cows. I certainly don’t think about a pink lace thong.”
“So ‘panties’ is sexy and ‘knickers’ not?” asked Scarlett.
“For me, at least.”
“You know what is most sexy?”
Lo’s and Scarlett’s eyes locked as Scarlett asked this. Lo could only mouth the word “No.” The breath was not filling her vocal cords.
“No panties at all.” Scarlett then pushed Lo’s legs further apart and applied the warm washcloth to Lo’s aching pussy. “He loves to lick,” said Scarlett absentmindedly.
“Does he?” whispered Lo.
“Oh yes. Did I mention, it’s just the two of us here.”
“Yes.”
“He’s very good company.”
“I’m sure.”
“Fills up those otherwise empty, lonely nights with all sorts of silly games and furry fun.”
“I can just imagine,” said Lo.
Scarlett’s right hand held Lo’s thigh tightly as her left hand held the washcloth, but Lo now felt a finger graze her labia.
“So,” said Scarlett in a hushed tone, “when another woman comes. . .” she paused dramatically, “he thinks that she just wants to play too.”
Lo now distinctly felt Scarlett’s fingers slide over her pussy. The washcloth dropped into the tub.
“I love to play. . .” now Lola paused dramatically, “with dogs.”
“Animal lovers are so. . .”
Scarlett leaned over and her lovely, red, lush lips parted. Lo couldn’t resist. She leaned in and did what she wanted to do since the moment she laid eyes on Scarlett. She kissed her passionately.
Scarlett’s left hand no longer played coy. She slid two fingers up and into Lo’s slit and her right hand slid around Lo’s waist so that, with the pressure between her legs, Scarlett wouldn’t push Lo right off the side of the tub.
When their lips finally parted, Scarlett said, “Turn, so I can wash your right leg.”
Lola obediently followed Scarlett’s instruction and lifted her left leg out of the tub and, with a very unlady-like move, straddled the curved edge of the tub. The toe of her bare left foot just touching the white tile floor and her right leg steadying her in the tub as her crotch was fully exposed, resting on the white porcelain edge of the tub.
Scarlett didn’t look at Lo’s dark, hairy bush, but instead, rinsed out the washcloth with warm water again and rung it out before leaning over starting again down at Lo’s naked right foot and slowly moving her way up Lo’s calf to her knee to her inner thigh. Scarlett then said, “Maybe I could clean you better if I hopped in the tub.”
Lo didn’t object. Rather, her heart skipped a beat when she contemplated that Scarlett would have to get naked to do this task. But that’s not how it happened. Scarlett, to Lo’s surprise, climbed into the tub, fully clothed, but for her shoes, which she left on the bathmat. She then got down on her knees in the little puddle that was on the bottom of the tub. She ran the warm washcloth up and down Lo’s leg with the care and attention of an art connoisseur delicately dusting a priceless alabaster statue. Scarlett was staring intensely at Lo’s crotch as she slid the warm, wet washcloth from Lo’s knee to her inner thigh.
Lo’s head dropped back and she was just about to reach out in front of her, grab Scarlett’s head and pull her in for a good smooch of her lower lips when suddenly there was a CRASH! Both women froze and Scarlett looked up and said, “Reilly!”
Scarlett stood up from the tub and hopped out. Lo followed. They went into the living room and saw a lamp shattered on the floor.
“Bloody hell!” said Scarlett.
Poor Reilly was cowering in the corner.
“What happened?”
“Oh, he probably was humping a pillow on the couch – he does that when. . .” she didn’t complete her thought. “And then the movement caused the lamp to slide off the end table.”
“I thought you put him out?”
“When he’s determined, he finds a way. He must have used his snout to push the door open.”
Lo recalled how forceful his snout was up and under her skirt. He nearly pushed her over with it.
Scarlett disappeared for a moment and returned with a dustpan and a hand broom. She crouched down to clean up the shattered porcelain fragments. As she did this, Lo sat down on the couch and crossed her legs. She picked up a book from the coffee table. It was a large photo book. On the cover, the words “Irina and Eva: Lust for Innocence and Innocent Lust” were embossed in an Art Neuvo gold across the top and a black-and-white image of a little nude girl wearing a Jazz Era hat, furry white vest (covering her non-existent breasts), and a couple of bracelets stood below. The lighting of the image of the girl was such that a shadow from the brim of the hat concealed her eyes. From under the hat, beautiful flowing golden curls unraveled down the girl’s shoulders. Her face was that of a young girl, but she wore luscious red lipstick on her beautiful full mouth. But for the items already mentioned, she stood naked with her arms at her side. The light illuminated her torso, drawing the observer’s eye to the chest and down to her navel. Below the navel was a pale stripe that indicated the small bathing suit or panties that barely protected her swimsuit zone from tanning. And within that white stripe was the outline of a smooth, hairless triangle that tapered in darkness between her small legs that were pressed together. Her body leaned at an angle resembling the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but her head was cocked in the opposite direction. Her nails were manicured and painted and she gave off the aura of a mature courtesan waiting to be chosen by the young patron of the brothel.
Eva Ionesco
After disposing the remains of the lamp that had broken, Scarlett returned to the living room and sat on the couch, to Lola’s left.
“What’s this?” asked Lo as she leafed through the pages, each of which had a glossy photo of the same young girl who was on the cover.
“Oh, that’s a prized possession of mine.”
Lo had turned to a page that featured the young nude blonde girl in a black-and-white spread that covered both the left and right pages. She was lying on her tum, her head propped up by her hands, her blonde ringlets crowned by a garland of flowers, and her little legs in black, knee-high stockings and wearing black shoes. From her knees to her garland, she was naked and the center of the photo was her cute, curved, bare bottom.
Irina Ionesco’s photo of her daughter, Eva Ionesco
Lola’s version
As Scarlett told Lo about the book, her right hand slowly caressed the glossy page.
“It is a book of Irina Ionesco’s photos of her daughter Eva.”
“I’m sorry,” said Lo, “but I don’t know them.”
“It’s a story of love – dark love. You see, Irina, so the story goes, was conceived by the unholy union of her father and his daughter. But that’s just the mysterious and unconfirmed backdrop to this story. Irina became a circus performer and gave birth to her one and only child – Eva in 1965. She began photographing her when she was four years old, which would be fine, but she treated her just like any of her older nude models. These were the so-called “Lolita Photos.” In the seventies – the zeitgeist being what it was – she exhibited her photographs and instantly gained notoriety in the artsy professional photography world. She continued to photograph her daughter – and even lend her out to be the muse of other photographers as well! – until social services intervened and removed Eva from the artistic exploitation of her obsessed mother.”
Eva Ionesco
Lola’s mouth was gaping as she flipped the glossy pages, gawking at the scandalous photos.
“This,” added Scarlett proudly as she again rubbed the smooth pages with her open palm, “was a limited, private print.”
“Where did you find it?”
“Oh,” said Scarlett as if it was no big deal, “it was a gift of Collin’s.”
“Of course,” said Lola looking at Scarlett knowingly.
“You like what you see?” asked Scarlett.
“It’s terrible,” said Lo enigmatically, as her fingers turned the page to look at another photo.
Eva as a cover girl
“She reminds me of you,” whispered Scarlett as her eyes locked on Lo’s and together they put the book back on the coffee table. Lola’s and Scarlett’s lips locked again as Scarlett fell back towards the pillow on the couch. She was now horizontal with Lo on top of her.
Eva, on loan by her mother to the photographer Jacques Bourboulon
Eva in Playboy 1976
They were passionately making out and Lo was running her hand through Scarlett’s hair when suddenly Lo said, “Oh no!”
“What?” asked a concerned Scarlett.
Lo sat up and showed Scarlett her hand. It was wet.
Scarlett sniffed it and turned around. Looking at the pillow that was under her, she said, “Reilly!”
“He, he, he came on the pillow!” said a horrified Lo. “And now it’s all in your hair.”
Scarlett sat up too and the sticky liquid stretched from the pillow in gossamer threads to her hair.
“How did we not see that?” asked Lo.
“I guess we were just focused on other things,” replied Scarlett, trying to prevent the mood from souring and attempting to pull Lo back down onto the couch with her. Scarlett’s head fell back onto the K9-cum-covered pillow. She reached to pull Lo down with her. Lo hesitantly fell back into her arms.
Lo was lost in Scarlett’s wet, warm, red, lush lips as they kissed passionately. Lo’s legs were squeezed together between Scarlett’s which were spread wide to welcome her. Just as Lo was loosing herself in the lust she felt for this older woman, she suddenly felt that same cool, wet, insistent nudging pressing on her mons pubis from behind.
Lo immediately lifted her head and looked behind her. There was Reilly all riled up again, nudging his nose up and under Lo’s short skirt.
“He’s relentless,” said Lo.
“He’s horny,” replied Scarlett.
“He just came!” protested Lo.
“Oh, he usually is good for like three or four rounds.”
Indeed, it looked like Reilly was eagerly getting ready to mount Lo as he had mounted the pillow earlier.
“Let’s switch places,” said Scarlett as she nearly wrestled Lo on the couch and forced her into a submissive role under her on the couch. Scarlett through the soiled pillow on the floor so as not to get Lo’s thick, dark hair all sticky as hers was now.
Lo was flat on her back on the couch and Scarlett was lying on top of her, making out with her as she squirmed out of her pants and “knickers.”
Then Lo could feel the rhythmic thumping happening as well as some painful scratches from sharp nails on her ankles and feet. Scarlett was moaning.
Lo looked up and over Scarlett’s shoulder. There was Reilly, mounted on Scarlett’s ass, going to town on her as he had on the pillow only a few minutes earlier.
“Is he in you?” Lo asked.
“Knotted in place, yes.”
Lo squirmed out from under Scarlett. Scarlett desperately tried to hold her there.
“What?” asked Scarlett. “Don’t go! Kiss me. Fondle me. Please.”
Lo had already gotten up and was looking down at Scarlett and her pooch. The latter was rhythmically and forcefully filling and thrusting the former’s wet hole, his front paws on the back of her blouse. She was rendered immobile by the activity.
“Wait! Please!” begged Scarlett.
“I think I should go,” said Lo.
“No. Please. You can be next. Promise.”
Lo slipped into her heels and said, “Call me when you have an opening free for me. . . in your schedule,” said Lo.
There was nothing Scarlett could do or say. She was knotted firmly and was at Reilly’s mercy, if he had any, until he came and his knot became detumescent.
Binders Full of Women
Mysterious Scarlett
“Yes, please show Ms. Down in,” Lola heard the voice say over the intercom to the secretary at the front desk.
Lo had her binders full of women resting in her lap atop her short black skirt. She held the binders firmly, with both hands. Her feet were bouncing rapidly and nervously in her cute, shiny, teal, round-tow, kitten-heel, pumps. She looked up anxiously at the sound of Collin’s voice over the intercom.
“You may go in now,” said the receptionist to Lo, only glancing at her briefly.
Lo entered the room, but instead of seeing Collin behind the large, wooden desk, she saw a beautiful brunette woman with bold, red lipstick, brown eyes, and stylish glasses looking down at some papers on her desk.
“Where’s Collin?” asked Lo, taken aback and with impudence, as if she had a right to her expectations.
The woman didn’t even look up at Lo. “Busy.”
“But I heard his voice. He told the receptionist to. . .”
“He’s working remotely,” said the woman, again, without looking up from her work.
“But, he’s supposed to. . .”
“I’ll be reviewing the layouts.”
“Who are you?”
Now the woman looked up at Lola. Despite the woman’s attractiveness and thick mane of hair that Lo wanted to grab and hold onto as she pushed the woman’s voluptuous lips – her most striking feature – down between her legs, the stranger’s tone was cold, monotone, almost robotic.
“I’m the project manager. The editor. Collin’s right-hand man.” She spoke and looked like Elizabeth Hurley playing Vanessa Kensington from the Austin Powers movie, which was just fine by Lola, because Lo had a long-standing crush on Elizabeth Hurley and the British accent made her twitterpated.
“You don’t look like a man,” said Lo, trying to get on the woman’s good side – if she had one, that is.
“I could fuck you five ways to Sunday,” said the editor. Then those luscious lips broke into a smile and Lo could see the woman’s beautiful, bright white teeth behind them. “And I would enjoy it too, I bet.”
The woman stood up, walked around the large desk, and extended her hand. “I’m Scarlet.”
Lo couldn’t help but think how perfectly her name matched her looks.
“And I’m blushing,” said Lo.
“You’re everything Collin said you’d be.”
“Oh yeah? What did he say I’d be?”
“Irresistible.”
“Did he? That naughty rogue.”
“So, what’s that you have there?” asked Scarlet.
“My binders full of women.”
“I’d like to have a binder full of Lola,” she replied.
“That can be arranged,” replied Lo, and adding after a pause, “but I’m sure he’s shown you all of my angles already.”
“No, actually,” said the woman, politely, but slowly fingering Lo’s blouse seductively. “He wanted me to use my imagination. But he did tell me all about you.”
“Such tales require little imagination.”
“Well, now that I see you, I can tell you that the imaginings will be more vivid and erotic.”
Lo blushed again. She felt at a disadvantage since she knew nothing about this bombshell before her. “Collin can be obsequious.”
“Obsequious?! He didn’t do you justice.”
“No?”
“Well, to be fair, now that I have met you in person, it seems to me all words fall short of conveying your beauty.”
“You are kind.”
“No. I am objectively correct. I have multiple degrees in the subject.”
“They offer upper-level classes on Lola Down?”
“If only,” said Scarlet, “my degrees are in art, aesthetics, design, and marketing.”
“That’s a lot of degrees for so young a woman.” Now Lola was being obsequious. Scarlet was clearly in her thirties, if not early forties.
“Keep up the flattery like that and I will have to put you over my knee to teach you not to fib.”
“You could put me over your knee anytime for any reason.”
“I may take you up on that, but only if you displease me.”
“I don’t have a degree in it, but the giving and receiving pleasure was my field of study in college.”
“I could be your master’s thesis advisor then.”
“I’m willing to learn from anyone who can teach me a new trick.”
“Let’s see your homework and then we’ll get to the extracurriculars.”
Lo placed the multiple thick binders on the desk before the brunette.
“They are divided into sections, as I imagine the masturbatorium museum will be.”
Scarlet looked at the index:
Porn Stars
MILFs
Preggo
Lactating
Breastfeeding
BBW
SSBBW
Golden Girls
Girls Next Door
Moms and Daughters
Nudists
BDSM
Boy-toys
Trans
Tiny Tits
Tiny Cocks
Creatures of Enormous Size
Bestiality
Misc.
“I see you’ve been photo farming.”
“What?”
“You know, photo farming – collecting photos of women and men you find alluring.”
“Oh, I just call it ‘putting it in the fap hat.’ You know, like the ‘spank bank’ ‘snack pack,’ or ‘bean machine,’ ‘perv reserve,’ and ‘jill thrills’ if you wish to be particular about it.”
“It’s a photo farm,” said Scarlet definitively. “And that’s ok. We all have them.”
Scarlet turned the pages slowly, viewing each page with an expert eye.
She then flipped through the hundreds of other pages.
“There’s a lot here,” he said, pensively, as she was cursorily reviewing Lo’s work. “I think I’ll need to bring this work home with me. In the meantime, why don’t you utilize your platform to see what your readers would like?”
“Like, post all of these photos?”
Scarlet managed to tear her attention away from the binders in order to look up at Lo.
“Not all,” she said, “That would be ridiculous! We’re trying to whittle this enormous collection down to a manageable size. Post a sample of each category and see what people say they’d like to see more of. After I’ve had a chance to look through this myself, I’ll call you.”
Lo reluctantly left her binders full of women on Scarlett’s desk and stood up, a bit perplexed.
“Will that be all?” she asked as if she were some sort of subordinate to this superior.
“One more thing,” said Scarlett.
“Yes?”
“What’s your favorite?”
Lola didn’t need to give the question any thought. She simply said, “That would be cheating. But maybe, if you ever do fuck me five ways to Sunday, you just might find out.”
Scarlett smiled mischievously and then pressed on her intercom button. “I’ll need a few minutes before my next appointment,” she said as she opened her desk drawer and pulled out a huge dildo and placed it on the desk for Lo to see. “That will be all, Ms. Down,” she pronounced clearly and coldly.
Lo’s heart had skipped a beat because, for a moment, she thought Scarlett would be using the foreboding phallus on her, but then she realized what was happening and turned to exit. She did an about-face so fast on her feet that her short little skirt flew up for just a second, revealing her ass to Scarlett’s probing eyes. Then she was gone.
[Dear Reader, please use the comments to vote for your favorites or to suggest others.]
Stoya
Stoya
Pornstar Sasha Grey
Sasha and Stoya
Sasha
Sasha
Pornstar Daizha Morgann
Daizha Morgann
Pornstar Lola Vargas Martin
Porn Star Gili Sky
MILF Samantha Massie
MILF Samantha Massie
MILF Samantha Massie enjoying Match, Cinder & Spark
Sam and Son
Sam and Daughter
Quintessential MILF Sam
Preggo
Three Pregnant Muses
Crossover – Preggo Porn Star Grey Desire
Lactating
Breastfeeding
Breastfeeding
Breastfeeding Lisa Shapira
Breastfeeding
BBW – Chunky Vixen
Chunky Vixen
BBW – Lisalou and Aurora Fits
Lisalou and Aurora
SSBBW Rosiee
SSBBW – Lady Brads
SSBBW – Lady Brads
BBW Party
Golden Girl – Beautifully Broken
Beautifully Broken
Beautifully Broken selling her panties. Send her an email and tell her Lola sent you.
Golden Girl – Queen Bev getting off to Lola
Golden Girl – Queen Bev from behind
Golden Girl – Queen Bev showing off the large pussy
Golden Girl – Queen Bev gets off on her FUPA
Golden Girl – Queen Bev loves to read naked
Golden Girl – Queen Bev an boyfriend
Vote for your favorite category/slut in the comments. Feel free to suggest a category or slut we missed. Also, don’t forget Lola Down:
Lola in the tub
More to (make you) cum.
Newest Members of The Match Book Club – Peach State Couple
In our quest to spotlight hot, sexy, and real people who have written to us to tell us how much they enjoy the stories in the various volumes of Match, Cinder & Spark, this week we bring you a loving couple who have had more than their share of adversity and who have transformed their sorrows into sheer sexiness! Please welcome Peach State Couple into The Match Book Club! Here they are in their own words and photos.
Peach State Couple getting it on
We have been married 25 years and together 30. We have always had an amazing relationship but the room was not on fire in the bedroom. Like many couples we didn’t know how to have the right conversation about what we really needed.
Peach State Couple
Then it happened, Mr. was diagnosed with kidney failure and began dialysis treatments. We continued on but realized that we needed to begin treasuring every day like it was our last because it truly could be. We sat down and started to admit what we needed and what we were not getting and it was like a gift from heaven. Suddenly our bedroom was on fire with passion and sensuality.
Mrs. Peach’s sex ass.
Mr. received a transplant and life was good, but it was short lived. About 5 years ago Mrs. was diagnosed with breast cancer. We were terrified of what life was going to bring us. Chemotherapy, radiation, and a double mastectomy later and we made it through with just a few physical changes.
Mrs. Peach’s friend Lexi
Mrs. Peach post surgery
Mrs. Peach
We have continued to devour one another whenever we have the chance and even though she lost her nipples Mrs. is still a sexy sensual being to the utmost degree. One day while enjoying one another’s bodies we made the joke of how hot it would be to post some of our sexy pics online, and had some of the hottest sex we had had in a while. Our photo shoots got sexier and sexier as we fantasized about people looking at and getting off to our pics, and then before you know it we had started a Bluesky and then later an Only Fans.
Mrs. Peach showing off her assets.
Mrs. Peach St. Patty’s Day celebration
Mrs. Peach, Lady in Red
Mrs. Peach – A Night in Paris
Mrs. Peach’s pretty peach
The thought of strangers being turned on by us to the point of masturbation makes us so hot. This lead us to Match Cinder and Spark, we loved reading the stories out loud to one another but the ultimate is for Mrs. Peach to listen to the audio version while Mr. Peach pleasures her in every way possible. This book is hot and sexy on so many levels and really gets us going!
Mrs. Peach getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark
What’s good for the Mrs. is good for the Mr.
Look us up on Only Fans https://onlyfans.com/peachstatecouple , Blue sky https://bsky.app/profile/peachstatecouple.bsky.social , and instagram https://www.instagram.com/peach_state_couple?igsh=MXM5bnZoNWMzOGJ6cg%3D%3D&utm_source=qr
Follow along in our sexy adventures as we rediscover our love and passion after all that we have been through and survived.
Mrs. Peach in a sexy pose
Full Color Peach
Mrs. Peach submits in a Kajira position
Mrs. Peach sexy one-piece
Juicy, ripe, round peach
Peaches for the thirsty
Emphasize the positive!
So cute!
Lo’s favorite color!
Compare, contrast
Mrs. Peach does “The Bed Spread”
Mrs. Peach assets galore
Kinky plug, it glows in the dark!
Frills that thrill
Mr. Peach shows his appreciation for Mrs. Peach
Mr. Peach was given an assignment by Lo. Step 1: Go into Mrs. Peach’s panty drawer.
Step 2: Pick out sexy panties and put them on. (Look how hard he is!)
Step 3: Masturbate to Lola while Mrs. Peach is away.
Looks like Mr. Peach was happy to fulfill Lo’s commands.
Lo told him to cum for her.
Looks like he was happy to make Lo happy.
Almost there. Looks like Mr. Peach is a real ass man.
Just three strokes more and. . .
Success!
Don’t worry, he also jacks to Mrs. Peach too!
Thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Peach of Peach State Couple for this lovely cumtribution!
Interview with Safe Word author: Molly Weatherfield, a.k.a. Pam Rosenthal
If you missed Part I of our two-part interview with Pam Rosenthal, whose erotica pen name is Molly Weatherfield, then you will want to check out THIS POST.
Her award-winning first book, Carrie’s Story, was followed by an even more wild adventure – both in terms of plot, sex, and narrative style – Safe Word.
Here is Lola’s interview with Molly and also an amazing illustration done by our dear friend in Ukraine, Sergii. The illustration shows Lola, lying down on the floor, reading Carrie’s Story, as Pam Rosenthal (top left) looks on at her fictional author, Molly Weatherfield (top right) and Molly’s fictional character, Carrie looks to her creator with admiration.
Pam, Molly, Carrie, Lola
Questions for Pam Rosenthal, a.k.a. Molly Weatherfield – PART TWO – Safe Word
Lola – I’m so glad you enjoyed the first interview and have agreed to a second for the sequel book, Safe Word! As I said at the end of our last interview, I totally needed a sequel because I didn’t want Carrie’s Story to end – especially not where it did end. But, I have to say, Safe Word did not follow any of the possible narrative sexcapades that I had imagined at the end of Carrie’s Story – and I imagined a lot!
This will be a tricky interview because I don’t want to give away too much of the book for anyone who hasn’t read it yet, but – OMG! – you really took off for the sequel! As in, Safe Word was off to the races!
Compared to Carrie’s Story, this book has a lot of steamy man-on-man sex and BDSM. Where did that come from and, again, were you worried about pushing boundaries or even warping genres?
Safe Word by Molly Weatherfield
Molly – Actually, I was so surprised to be writing it at all, that I never thought about whether I was taking things too far. I mean, I had told everybody that Carrie’s Story was a one-off, and that I was done. And then I found out that I wasn’t, which was such a gift, and so unexpected, that I just ran with it.
As for the man-on-man sex, I don’t remember it as being a conceptual departure from the first book. It’s just that in Safe Word there are more opportunities for variation. Carrie has moved on to a bigger world, with more possibilities, while Jonathan is kind of rediscovering that world. What wasn’t entirely explicit in Carrie’s Story (though Kate is kind of grumpy about it) is that for the year or two when he’s most involved with Carrie, Jonathan has stopped being active in the association and its doings. But with Carrie gone, his old life comes rushing in on him again. What I was going for was a sense that the magnitude and the variety of this hidden world of sexual exchange and domination should be always revealing more of itself to the reader, through Carrie’s and Jonathan’s narratives of the year they’ve spent apart. I used to call this the “Snoopy’s doghouse” approach, but clearly, it was a way to conceptualize my own fantasy life as I explored it.
Lola – There were a couple of points in the novel where I laughed out loud because the plot went in such an unexpected direction. For instance, the rivalry between Carrie and Stephanie really reminded me of some of the YA books I had read. And then, while in the stable, Carrie befriends her neighbor by clandestinely using a piece of rubber tube to communicate between stalls. That reminded me of a scene from V for Vendetta, which came out much later than your book. And you mentioned to me before the interview that the first scene of the book is right from Little Women. Two more disparate books, I think, could not be found. Was this sort of juxtaposition of texts part of your plan or did it just come out that way and you realized it after?
Molly – I don’t know anything about V for Vendetta. But the Carrie and Stephanie rivalry is very YA, you’re right. And it was inspired by something that happened years ago among a bunch of adults, including me, who were traveling and working together. And because of the pressures of the situation, we found ourselves sometimes acting like bratty teenagers, even to the midnight giggling and whispering. Not proud of it, but there you are.
As for Little Women, thankfully it was only after I’d finished writing the first scene of Safe Word that I realized that I’d copped it from the scene in Little Women when Laurie first catches up with Amy in Europe. In the Greta Gerwig movie the scene is shown from the p.o.v. of Amy in the carriage with Aunt March. But in the novel, it’s very similar to the scene in Safe Word: first a kind of birds-eye view of the setting in the south of France, then focusing in on a very handsome American man who’s being rather ogled by passers-by while he waits for a particular young woman.
Here are some snippets of the passage from Little Women:
At three o’clock in the afternoon, all the fashionable world at Nice may be seen on the Promenade des Anglais, a charming place… Along this walk, on Christmas Day, a tall young man walked slowly, with his hands behind him, and a somewhat absent expression of countenance… which caused sundry pairs of feminine eyes to look approvingly after him… There were plenty of pretty faces to admire, but the young man took little notice of them, except to glance, now and then, at some blonde girl, or lady in blue.
And here are some parallel bits from Safe Word:
The city itself [Avignon] is heavily touristed… On this particular day… however, it was sunny and lively… An American man was sitting at one of the cafes… and he’d been glancing up eagerly whenever a slender young woman, especially one with close-cropped hair, came from that direction… Lots of attractive people were strolling… lots of women he liked looking at… and since he was extraordinarily good-looking… none of this was going unnoticed.
What was so remarkable to me when I finally realized what I’d done, was remembering how much I’d loved the scene in Little Women when I read it as a breathless 9-year-old, just knocked out by what I took to be its elegance and sophistication. The point of view and the rhythm of the phrasing had clearly imprinted itself onto me and yet my conscious mind didn’t remember it at all; when I was writing that part of Safe Word I was focused on the Avignon history (which are themselves copped from Francine du Plessis Gray’s At Home with the Marquis de Sade, the book I’d reviewed for Salon.com).
But then, in both Carrie books — and really in everything I’ve ever written — I used so much of what I’d read and experienced, even when it might not appear directly apposite to the subject at hand, which I think is awesome evidence of the heavy lifting the mind and memory are capable of during the creative process. Once, at a reading, I was introduced by the author and anthologist Violet Blue, who said to me, jokingly, “I feel that I know you.” To which I replied, about 90% seriously, “You do.”
Lola – Whereas Carrie’s Story was, like many erotica books, a romance novel with kinks and explicit scenes, Safe Word is a much more complex work. I really appreciated the multilayer narrative. On one level you have Carrie, who is in love with life in general and is open-minded and willing to experience all of it. (I love that about her!) But there is always the lingering question in the background of the book (carried over from the first novel) of whether she will get together with her most obvious love interest, Jonathan. But Jonathan is engaged in his own love affair with Kate. And then, because none of these characters are simple, one dimensional, or merely functional for the plot, there is always the possibility that Kate and Carrie will fall in love. I had no idea how it would end, even right up to the last pages! How did this complex plot develop?
Molly – For maybe three quarters of the process, I didn’t know how it would end either. And I guess that I only found my ending when I’d realized that I’d come to the outer limit of my erotic imagination; the feeling that I couldn’t make things any heavier, deeper, or more hardcore and still continue having fun in fantasyland.
Kate’s my favorite character in some ways. I have no idea where I got the idea for her, but I’m always wanting to know (i.e. imagine, i.e. write) more parts of her backstory, to account for her toughness and honesty. I was also kind of obsessed with how Jonathan’s such a pampered little prince: I enjoyed imagining him, but I found myself resenting how much he gets away with; I remember explaining to author and sexual activist Carol Queen that I thought of him like my cat — so beautiful that somehow he existed to be spoiled and indulged. I found their story provocative, sexy, and a bit troubling — as Carrie does, even if she begins to wonder whether it’s her story any longer.
Lola – And, while we’re on the topic of narrative complexity, the trading of stories between Carrie and Jonathan as they seduce each other and then seduce each other again was brilliant! Of course they would seduce each other with words. I can appreciate breaking with conventional narrative form. This book is so inventive, not just for erotica, but as a novel. Did you feel as if you were breaking new ground that way?
Molly – I’m not really satisfied with how it flows between Carrie’s narrative, Jonathan’s narrative, and the overriding omniscient storytelling, but it was the best I could do with what technical chops I had. So I guess the best answer is that I was breaking new ground for me, and maybe for a certain kind of erotica, but that I was and am haunted by knowing that there are narrative techniques that I didn’t (and don’t) know how to employ. Yhat isn’t at all to say that I’m sorry I wrote it. I did the best I could with what I wanted to say, and in many ways it’s my favorite of my books.
Lola – One aspect of the book I really enjoyed was that the “masters” or “owners” were not only rich men. And the “slaves” or “subs” weren’t just women. (Other than Carrie, we don’t really know their socio-economic status in the civilian world.) There is a certain sexual equality in the book, if not economic equality. I also took particular delight in Jonathan’s punishment for breaking the rules. That really put a dent in the sense that these rich folk were beyond being flogged themselves. And, it’s clear throughout that Kate is the dom to just about all the other characters. Did it just flow that way as you were writing it, or did you have a political statement in mind?
Molly – Again, the sexual equality was what I’d learned from Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty books. I didn’t have a political statement in mind, although I suppose these days you could look at it that way. At the time, though, I was just glad to be exploring the world I was imagining, and grateful to those who’d given me a world of increased possibility.
Lola – “Feminism” means something different to just about each person who uses the word. I could picture some self-proclaimed feminists (especially Second Wave Feminists) getting their panties in a bunch about your erotica. But one aspect of Third Wave Feminism that I really embrace is the sex positivity – the notion that we all have our little kinks and there’s nothing wrong with living them out loud. So much sexual repression is a function of patriarchy and a healthy sexuality can look and feel all different ways for different people, including Male Dom/Female Sub relationships. Such relationships are not necessarily symptoms or results of patriarchy, or not simply so, at least. Did you receive a lot of criticism from other women/feminists for your writing?
Molly – No criticism at all from women or feminists. I know, it’s weird, right? But true nonetheless.
Lola – I’m sorry for my ignorance, but I wasn’t even born when this book was published. So, can you indulge me a little? The pony play. Where did that come from? If I do a Google search now for “bdsm pony girl race” I will get hundreds of images of women in various states of dress (leather, buckles, naked but for the harness, etc.) with bits in their mouths pulling little rickshaws with doms ready to whip them. I lack the historical knowledge to know if all this porn was inspired by your book (was it the first of this sort?), or if there was already a sub-culture of cosplay or other BDSM play that inspired you.
Molly – Pony play was around before I wrote Carrie’s Story, but I didn’t know about it. I only found out about it after I’d finished a short first draft and was looking for ways to extend it to novel length. Visiting a San Francisco leather/fetish store for inspiration, I found a glossy magazine containing an extensive photo shoot of some real-girls’ pony farm somewhere — or maybe it was all staged, I don’t know. Anyway, I leafed through it in kind of a fearful fever dream, jammed the magazine back onto the rack, stumbled out of the store, and drove home. Only to turn around, get back in the car, drive back, buy the magazine, read it over a few times, and write the Sir Harold chapter in a crazy burst of words that I’ve never been able to equal. It wasn’t writing, exactly: it was copying, as fast as my fingers would go, what my frenzied imagination was dreaming up as fast as it could. And then I retrofitted the earlier chapters around it.
Lola – Since our last interview, you mentioned that you wanted to post a link to the interview on your Facebook page, but were concerned that the censors might punish you for it. Along the lines of historical reference, can you talk about what sorts of shifts you’ve seen politically and artistically in tolerance and censorship with regard to erotica? There seems to be a growing movement in England and America to reduce access to certain material. I know we, with our blog, have been constantly challenged by censorship. I get my social media zapped on the regular and certain companies that transfer money refuse to send us funds because the money is made through sexually explicit material. What have you seen over the years?
Stroll?
Molly – First about censorship: Honestly, it’s been such a long time since I’ve written or actively promoted myself that I don’t have any specifics, but friends who are still writing are always dealing with it, and though I know stuff is always being challenged on Amazon, I’m sorry that I really don’t have any insights to share. I posted the link on my Molly Weatherfield page, which Facebook said it was going to take down. But they haven’t yet, so I’m totally confused. But I didn’t paste a link from my Pam Rosenthal page because I use it to connect to old friends and extended family, and I don’t want them to shut that down, so I’m more circumspect about erotic posts there.
As for shifts in standards, a few wildly unrelated points:
- I’m guessing that these days there’s a lot of really intense stuff out there, of a sensibility to appeal to readers of a different generation than mine. I’m told that my teenage granddaughters read stuff that’s crazy explicit (not my stuff, but who could blame them?). But I’m shy to pry too deeply, so I don’t know much.
- I’ve always objected to any pornography that tries to locate kinky sensibility in childhood trauma; it seems to me that when you do that you delegitimize freedom of choice and imagination by pretending to be on the side of the “victims” while at the same time scapegoating some nasty “victimizers” by blaming them for your own fantasy life. To the extent that Fifty Shades was coherent, it seems to me that it played that nasty trauma card while going all swoony over private jets and diamond bracelets — but since I found the book a dreary, disorganized read and wound up skipping long passages, who knows what she was getting at?
- What most troubles me right now is a kind of eroticizing of totally illegitimate power, as described in this powerful, smart, and scary essay: https://slowcivilwar.substack.com/p/thats-bait. If there’s anything I’ve tried to be clear and consistent about in these interviews it’s that I always situate my fantasies within a framework of total consensuality and freedom to say no. I really hate erotic fantasy that’s in any way based on coercion, and my imagination tends to shrivel up in horror when I don’t feel safe; which I don’t, these days — less as an erotic writer than as an ordinary American who cherishes democracy and the rule of law.
Lola – Lightning round of questions: Favorite erotica author? Favorite book (of any genre)? Favorite poet? Favorite movie? Favorite porn star? Favorite play of Shakespeare’s? Favorite sex toy? Favorite age (meaning, did you love your 20’s, 30’s, 80’s the most) and why?
Molly – Pauline Réage, who wrote Story of O, has got to be at the top of the list. Erotic authors I’ve admired over the years are Michelle Tea, Aaron Travis, Thomas Roche. I’ve mentioned Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty books, but I need to add that the direct inspiration for the association comes from the opening chapter of Rice’s book Exit to Eden. Actually, I’ve been reading more erotic poetry than fiction lately. Natalie Diaz’s book, Postcolonial Love Poem, has some really hot writing in it and won the 2021 Pulitzer Prize for Poetry; and you should run-not-walk to buy The Poetry of Sex, edited by Sophie Hannah.
I don’t have a favorite porn film, but the most smoking hot movie I’ve ever seen is Ang Lee’s Lust, Caution, starring the sexiest film actor I’ve ever seen, Tony Leung.
All-time favorite pieces of writing: Grace Paley’s short story, “Friends”; The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (imo the great American novel); and Proust’s epic In Search of Lost Time, which is kind of my basic spiritual discipline.
Favorite play of Shakespeare? When I was young it was Much Ado About Nothing, clearly the first romcom. Now it’s absolutely King Lear, particularly in this version: https://www.ntathome.com/king-lear/videos/king-lear-trailer
No favorite sex toy, just some simple basics.
As for sexual decades: it was pretty great when I was writing Carrie in my 40s, but as we approach 80, there’s a new kind of beauty to it, for which we are profoundly grateful.
Lola – I don’t know if you have kids or grandkids, but, if you do, do you have any regrets about writing erotica since they will probably eventually be reading your work? Do you ever look back and think, “That was fun to write, but, OMG! I should have never published that!”?
Molly – Our very smart son, a literature professor, has managed to be entirely circumspect about my erotica for the last 30 or so years. I have no idea whether he’s read them or not, which is just fine by me. And I’m guessing that his two astonishingly literate daughters will be pretty much the same.
Still, I do sometimes have second thoughts about my books — again, because they’re still out there, in a world where cruelty has been instrumentalized and eroticized. So sometimes I have to pick up one or the other of them and reassure myself that that’s not what I was doing — far from.
Lola – Last question. Not sure if you have had a chance to read or listen to any of HH’s writings about me/us, but if you have, any thoughts?
Molly – Only a few sentences, so I can’t comment. But I love the idea of you guys sharing an erotic and a creative life as a single enterprise. Way to go and wishing you all the best.
Lola – Thank you so much! This has been a rare treat!!!
Molly – Thanks to you as well. I’ve been kind of grieving the fact that I’m not writing any more. But your smart, engaging questions have helped me sum things up and to own the astonishing experience of writing these books.
Interview: Breastfeeding and Lactation with Grey Desire
Grey Desire – NOT how she feeds her baby.
If you don’t know about Grey Desire – the sexiest yoga instructor on the internet – then go back and read Lola’s interview with her from a few weeks ago.
Early Nude Yoga Instructional Video of Grey Desire
She just had her second child and has been posting all sorts of sexy stuff about lactating and breastfeeding. She agreed to talk to Lola about it!
Preggo Yoga with Grey Desire
Lola – First of all, congratulations on the birth of your second child! I’m so glad all went well and both baby and mommy are healthy! Also, thanks for agreeing to do an interview on lactation and breastfeeding. As a hotwife without kids, but with a lot of curiosity, this is something I’m very interested in and after seeing your posts, it seems like you’re into it too! A lot of my friends have been having babies, so breastfeeding has just become part of my social life experience. As you know, I’ve been a fan of yours since the early days of your homemade naked yoga videos. I’m amazed at the posts you make of yoga while really, really pregnant. How has yoga and your life-style helped you with pregnancy, delivery, and now with breastfeeding?
Nude yoga is all about stretching
G.D. – Thank you so much, I am so grateful for how smoothly everything went! I honestly credit a lot of that to my regular yoga practice. Keeping the body moving and strengthening key areas are so crucial to keeping up with the physical changes of pregnancy and preparing for the intense workout that is giving birth. I also worked perineal stretching into my yoga flows which is likely why I only pushed for four minutes during this delivery & had no tearing! My postpartum recovery has also been amazing and quick, I was back to feeling like my normal self and doing gentle exercises two weeks postpartum! All thanks to my regular yoga practice throughout this pregnancy!
Keeping the perineum limber
Deep downward dog
The key to yoga is to keep hydrated
Lola – Tell me about your thought process with regard to posting (and posting a lot) during pregnancy and now during your lactation. I mean, you post pee vids, squirt vids, and now vids and photos of your breasts leaking, squirting, and dripping. Not every sex-positive content creator would do that. What made you decide to go ahead and post during these times? Is it body-positivity? The money that can be made from these otherwise taboo and kinky aspects of women’s bodies? Or something else?
Grey Desire, self-proclaimed “Hucow”
The milk bar
G.D. – I think my thought process is just that I am a horny kinkster at heart 😉 All of these types of things turn me on and are my personal kinks so why not share them with the world?!
From a Grey Desire Queef video
Lola – This is your second child, right? Does the first want to get in on the meal-train when the boobs come out to feed the newborn? There’s a lot of debate out there about the proper time to stop breastfeeding. A lot of women – and it’s mostly women for some reason – shame other women when they breastfeed past a certain point. What’s your take on it?
Breastfeeding in the news
G.D. – The breastfeeding world is filled with so much shame and way too many opinions! I produced milk for a full year with my first and intend to do the same this time. Breast milk for the first year of life is the most widely recommended approach so that was my goal. Then I found that the toll creating milk took on my body was way too heavy to continue past that point, otherwise I likely would have.
Strong Opinions on breastfeeding
Lola – Just like there’s a lot of debate about the cutoff point for breastfeeding, there’s also a heated public debate about where and how it’s appropriate to breastfeed in public. Should you cover up? Should you not do it at all? People seem to be made uncomfortable by it and, instead of owning their feelings, they shame moms. What’s your take on it?
Posting from an influencer
G.D. – I am certainly not one to want to censor boobs for any reason, especially not my own 😉 Breastfeeding in public should be totally accepted, if not enabled, within society in my opinion!
Public breastfeeding
Lola – I imagine that because everyone nowadays feels entitled to voice their opinion and hoist their own beliefs on others (with regard to how long to breastfeed and where and how to do it), there are probably a lot of people out there eager to tell you, Grey Desire, about what you should and shouldn’t do with regard to selling “porn” content having to do with breastfeeding. What has been the response that you’ve received?
Grey Desire prior to breastfeeding (round 2)
G.D. – The vast majority of responses have been positive. People love bodily fluids and are quite fascinated by breast-milk. It’s not something you encounter often in day-to-day life or in porn so I am frequently met with lots of questions that I am happy to answer. There are of course the occasional trolls who feel the need to tell me I’m a terrible mom for wasting the milk… little do they know breast-milk is a supply and demand cycle. The more my porn demands, the more supply I have. So creating porn with my milk actually produces more milk 😉
Supply and Demand – Grey Desire
Lola – How is your husband (a.k.a. “Stunt Cock”) handling all of this? – The two kids, your career, you posting this content, and also your enormous, lactating breasts? Does he get to have a snack now-and-then?
Some of Grey Desire’s favorite bits.
G.D. – He handles everything like a champ! He has been a great support system and help throughout this adjustment phase. He is also the absolute best at hyping me up when I’m unsure about the changes to my body. However, he is not a boob guy, ass man through and through! So typically he doesn’t give a second thought to my boobs, no matter the size but for some reason, this engorgement phase has at least partially transformed him into a boob guy 😉
Preggo Grey Desire being shaved by “Stunt Cock”
Lola – You’re probably aware that there are a lot of women out there who make content of themselves breastfeeding their babies. Somehow it doesn’t get blocked by the censors on the social media sites, maybe because those sites don’t want to be seen as lactation shaming. But they clearly are making it as sexual content – they dress in suggestive lingerie, wear alluring make-up, etc. What do you think of women including their babies in these sorts of posts?
Just one example of a woman posting her breastfeeding journey on line
G.D. – I put a lot of effort into separating my family from my work. As such, I am a firm believer that as an adult content creator, you should not be posting your children on your social media sites in any capacity. Certainly not sexualizing any act they are doing.
Woman who shares an intimate moment.
Lola – I’ve been told that for many women an orgasm can be an unintended, yet not unwanted, consequence of breastfeeding. Has this ever happened to you?
Breastfeeding orgasm?
G.D. – I have heard of that happening too! It has never happened to me though. Even in a sexual setting, I don’t receive much erotic pleasure from nipple stimulation. So I certainly don’t receive it when I am not in a sexual headspace.
Lola – Do you have any favorite preggo or breastfeeding content creators? If so, who?
Emma Sinclaire capturing the magic
G.D. – I honestly don’t know, they finish pregnancy/lactating too quickly, so we can skip this one!
Emma Sinclaire exuberantly squirts
Emma Sinclaire grabbing a little snack
Lola – Generally, after giving birth, a woman is advised not to have sex for about six weeks, right? So, does your hubby (“Stunt Cock”) jackoff to your photos and vids? Or do you service him in other ways? Ever catch him getting off to anything else? Every couple has some sort of rules about that, I think. What’s yours?
“Stunt Cock” giving a little massage to Grey Desire
G.D. – After both of my pregnancies, we have had a lot of fun during this “sexless” phase! While my holes, and our favorite places, are off limits, it lets us get more creative about other ways to be sexual or simply just intimate together. This time we have been enjoying some creative sexting sessions and taking cumshots on any body part imaginable 😉 It’s also fun for me to read Match, Cinder & Spark aloud while I jerk him off.
Some solo fun with Grey Desire
Lola – Thanks so much for this interview! You’re always such a good sport! And good luck with awards season. Please tell us how all your fans can vote for you!
Don’t forget to vote for Grey Desire!
G.D. – Thank you for some fun, hot-topic questions! & thank you very much for the luck, we shall see! I am currently nominated for MILF Streamer of the Year in the XMA Creator Awards! If you’d like to vote, you can vote unlimited times a day, every day until May 20th at greydesire.com/vote
