Will You Come With Me?

Posted on May 15, 2020 by Lola Down

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[The Mount Bliss mini-series continues from I Want to Drown in Lola Down.]

She licked my lance from tip to taint with a worshipful devotion before turning on her side and pressing her caboose into my pelvis. She moaned, “Slide back in my ass, Daddy. That’s where I want you to cum.”

In I pierced her from behind without the slightest bit of resistance. She and I were both saturated by her super soaker and the spunk of her previous coital conjunction.

I was deep inside her and ready to fulfill her wishes when suddenly there was a knock at the door to the bedroom.

We both froze. We listened intently. Silently. Another furtive knock. Rap, rap rap.

In the still muted darkness I could feel my heart pounding and the pulse of my blood throbbing through my swollen saber lodged deeply in Lo’s spare sheath. Pump, pump, pump. Each heartbeat felt like a violent thrust inside her.

To my astonishment, Lola said quietly but confidently, “Come in.”

The door opened slowly and silhouetted in the frame was the unmistakable outline of Collin. He stepped into the room and approached Lola’s side of the bed. He walked slowly, probably because he had difficulty seeing in the sudden darkness. He stood over the two of us, imposingly.

“I’m sorry to disturb you like this,” he said in a hushed tone.

If I disliked him before, I despised him now.

“What’s up?” asked Lo.

My cock was up, up inside her hooha, waiting to climax in a spectacular array of orgasmic delight.

“I just wanted to apologize,” he said slowly.

Couldn’t this just wait till morning?

Lo didn’t ask what he was apologizing for. She patiently kept silent and allowed him to continue at his own pace. For once he was fumbling for words.

“You see, uh, I’m not sure how to explain this. But. Suzanne. She and I.”

Get on with it! I am a man on a mission.

“Here, sit,” said Lo, pulling the covers back to reveal her naked body. She shoved her ass further into my pelvis to make room for him. I felt my cock penetrate parts of her that it had never probed before.

Collin sat down as Lo’s breasts, tum, and pussy were all exposed to him and I, the big spoon, was cuddling her from behind, conjoined to her body through her anus.

“What is it, Collin?” she asked kindly, touching his hand. “You can tell me anything.”

“Well, Suzanne and I. You know that we haven’t had marital relations for many years now.”

This was news to me.

“And you know why,” he continued.

No, I don’t know why. But Lo just looked at him with gentle understanding.

“Go on,” she said.

“Well, for many of those years she. . . well, you can probably guess.”

Come out and say it, I thought.

“Anyhow,” continued Collin, “I wanted to apologize for her. Her behavior. And for Shadow. I’m very sorry all that happened.”

“It’s ok, Collin,” said Lo, taking his hand and putting it on her naked body just above her hip. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

He’s apologizing to you! Why would you do anything for him?

Collin looked at me. His eyes had adjusted to the dim light. “HH,” he said, “You have a good one here. A really special lady. Don’t let her get away.” As he said that, he caressed her breast.

“Let her get away?” I asked. “You say that as if I have her locked down like a caged animal. The reality is quite the opposite.”

“Yes,” purred Lola as Collin squeezed her bosom. “Kiss me,” she instructed him.

He leaned over and kissed her. Her ass jutted back, taking more of my cock, if that was possible.

She gave him a long, open mouthed kiss and I could feel her muscles clench around my cock. Collin was clearly enraptured by Lo’s pure sexuality. As they continued to kiss, I exploded deep inside her. I could hold out no longer. The pent-up energy from a week of celibacy was too much for me to bear. I could feel the warm wetness that I had injected into her surrounding my cock. She felt it too and her hand moved up Collin’s strong arm and gripped his bicep firmly as she clenched her ass, clutching my cock, squeezing every last drop out of it.

It was not how I had hoped to consummate our reunion.

“Will you come with me?” asked Collin, unaware apparently that I had just cum in her.

“What?” asked Lo. She probably thought he had asked her to cum with him. Hard to tell if the words are not written on the page.

“Come with me,” he repeated. “I want to show you something.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Is it ok, HH?” Lo asked, turning her head over her shoulder to look at me. It was really just a formality. She knew what I’d say. Do I ever deny her anything?

“Sure,” I said, trying to conceal my resentment.

Lo began to move forward and I slowly slid out of her ass as she released me. I flopped out of her and she dribbled a bit on me from her ass as her anus simultaneously made a sloppy slurping sound.

I could see her gingerly maneuvering her legs over the side of the bed. She stood up, naked, and kept her legs and ass cheeks clenched tightly as she slid on her thong panties and slipped into a sheer beach coverup.

“Be back soon,” she said, as she turned to blow me a kiss. I imagine that she leaked right over that little thong of hers, down her legs.

She shut the door behind her.

Interview With a Nympho

Posted on May 9, 2020 by Lola Down

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[A word to our sponsors – that’s YOU. Recently a dear reader wrote in to say that he had difficulty subscribing to our blog. We reached out to our beloved tech guy – our Knight in Shining Armor – and he took care of the problem right away. If you have any questions or concerns about subscribing or anything else, please write to us so we can help you out: downloladown@gmail.com. Please subscribe and get all the sexy stories every month!!!]

Working from home? Enjoy mysexlifewithlola as you do.

[I, Lola Down, recently was asked to do an interview about my sex-life under lockdown. Even though HH just wrote an article about it for Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine, I was happy to give an interview in my own words. It ended up on the cutting room floor, but here it is for your reading pleasure.]

1. How has your sex life changed since practicing social distancing?

My sex life with my man, HH, is pretty much the same. I mean, we have lots of time together and, actually, that’s been great for both of us. But, to fill you in on our relationship, he’s in his fifties and I’m in my mid-twenties. His libido isn’t quite where mine is. In fact, he says that my libido outstrips that of a teenage boy. Well, maybe he’s right. So between us, things have remained the same — about once or twice a day. However, with “social distancing” (which is really physical distancing since I am still very social, just physically distant) I cannot meet men and women in person like I used to. HH and I have an understanding. I’m given free reign (to be a ‘hotwife’) and he saves himself for me. But now, all my hotwife activity is only virtual — through email (downloladown@gmail.com) or tweet or other social media. There’s a lot of men and women out there who are trapped. Either they’re alone or they are with partners that don’t satisfy them. They’re happy to find me.

Caught!

2. What is it like when you do decide to leave your apartment, flat or home?

Where we are, when we go out it’s probably much like where you are. People walking around or jogging or biking. Some have masks on, some don’t. I get really upset at those joggers who sneak up on you and don’t have a mask on and they come within a foot of your personal space. Go jog somewhere else! You know? Shopping is a pain, but you know, as they say, we’re all in this together. I can’t complain any more than the next person.

3. How do you control your urges or cravings on a daily basis?

Working from home makes it easy. Simply put, I don’t have to “control my urges or cravings” as much as I would at work. I can simply hop into the bath, turn on the warm water, spread my legs and have a little mid-day me-time. No sneaking around to the office supply closet or an empty bathroom.

Lola Social Distancing

4. What is the hardest part of being a sex addict in quarantine?

Am I a sex addict? Like Jessica Rabbit says, “I’m not bad. I’m just drawn that way.” HH depicts me as a sex-craved nympho. I just think I’m sex-positive with a healthy libido. I think that this “social distancing” is as draining on me as anyone. I thrive on social interaction. The other day I woke up and turned to HH and said, “I had such a vivid dream. I was at a restaurant and had just finished an excellent meal and a great cocktail. I even asked for the bill. It was amazing!”

“Was it as good as a sex dream?” he asked.

Honestly, it was better. I just want to be outside with people, dining out, seeing and being seen, dressing up or dressing down and, did I mention, being with people? Zoom just doesn’t do it for me.

Write me!

5. How do you cope as a sex addict in quarantine?

Didn’t the CDC say that sex with yourself is the safest sexy you can have? Well, I try to follow rules. Except when I break them. No, just kidding. That’s a rule I don’t break. I have a lot of self-pleasure sessions. Nothing new there, really. But now I can’t just call up a friend and have him or her come over to give me benefits.

6. Are you still having sex with other people while in quarantine? If so, please explain.

No sex in real life, just in my imagination. I had another crazy sex dream about Peter Dinklage the other night. I know, right? If only he and I were dining together in my dream. . .

7. How often are you watching pornography, using sex toys, or engaging in sex addicts that do not involve a partner while in quarantine?

Daily, hourly, right now. . . I mean, if you’re reading this, I’m engaging with you, right?

How to Practice Ethical Non-Monogamy Under Lockdown

Posted on May 2, 2020 by Lola Down

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[Hi everyone! We hope that you boys & girls reading this from home are all safe and healthy. We know you’re sexy! We’re interrupting our usual programing of the mini-series “Mount Bliss” to bring you this story. You, our longtime readers and fans, probably know that most of the stories you read here are true, but HH takes a long time to craft them and so they are not usually about what is happening NOW. This is a little different. It was featured in the May edition of Ethical Non-Monogamy (ENM) Magazine (p. 38). It’s appropriate not only because it tell you how we are dealing with life under lockdown, but also it’s appropriate since May is Masturbation Month! We hope you enjoy and we love to hear your stories of how you are doing: downloladown@gmail.com]

How to Practice Ethical Non-Monogamy Under Lockdown

“Fuck me,” she said, “Yeah, like that.”

I looked in the slightly ajar door to see just whom Lola could be fucking during a mandatory lockdown in a global pandemic.

“Oh, yeah,” she cooed as she lay, splayed out on the bed, one hand up inside her, the other squeezing her tits.

She was fucking herself and, apparently telling herself just how much she enjoyed it.

Desperate times, I suppose.

We had been in lockdown for two weeks. It wasn’t so bad. We were in Florida, by the beach, which eventually got closed down. But we had a pool. That too got closed the second week. Now, all we had was each other and our health – a lot to be thankful for, no doubt, but not nearly enough for Lo.

We were both working remotely. It was a little past one in the afternoon. I was trying to do a conference call to Ms. Gale, my secretary, and one other person, but the moans and groans, gasps and grunts from the bedroom could be heard throughout the small apartment we were renting. When she transitioned to actual words like “Fuck me. Yeah, like that,” I had to make an excuse to hang up and go check on my nympho in the bedroom.

I politely waited until she was done – or at least taking a pause from her self-pleasure.

“Lo, come on!”

“What Daddy?”

“It’s one-fifteen.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Don’t you have work to do as well?”

“I’ve always had an hour of me-time scheduled every day on my work calendar, even before this whole Coronavirus thing. Everyone knows not to bother me for this hour.”

“Do they know what you’re doing on your ‘me-time’?”

“Oh no, Daddy. Well, I mean, I guess some of them probably have their suspicions.”

“Let me tell you, if you’re as loud in your office as you are here, then everyone knows.”

“I’m sorry, Daddio. But I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d just fuck me.”

“We fucked last night and this morning.”

“So, why not this afternoon?”

“If I fucked you as much as you want it, then I certainly would die during this pandemic, but not from the virus!”

“It’s good exercise.”

“It seems like the only exercise you’ve been getting.”

“Well, the gym’s closed. Besides, the CDC said that the safest sex anyone can have right now is with themselves.”

“The CDC did not say that!”

“Someone said that.”

“Probably you.”

“That doesn’t make it untrue.”

“Good grief! Well, try to keep the sound effects to a minimum. OK? I have calls to make.”

While I work the day away, Lola plays. She carries on about five to ten affairs from afar with various men and women. Her friend, Nero Black, posted about jacking to her photos while his wife, who rarely gives up her goodies to him, jills it in the next room to taboo incest literotica. Yet, the married boy best beware if she happens to walk in on him in the onanistic act of worshipping Ms. Down. Lo has frequently suggested (nay, more than suggested, demanded) that Nero direct his partner’s web browser to mysexlifewithlola, or, at the very least, put the two of them in contact with each other. But, as of yet, he has refrained. Many-a-night I’ve had to hear from Lo about how she would have treated the two of them if she were their couples counselor.

Lo is friends with a lovely married couple from NJ, Mike and Danielle. Mike has been a stay-at-home-dad to his two young daughters while Danielle has done the 9-to-5 at the office. This has left Mike with time to chat with Lo and fap to Lo when the girls are down for a nap. Luckily, unlike with Mr. Black, this has all been on the up-and-up with his wife Danielle. In fact, not only with her blessing, but her encouragement. She loves to come home and see the cumtributes her husband made to and for Lola. Then, after the kids are put to bed, they turn on Lo’s pixilated pussy and fuck each other while looking at Lola.

Sharing Couple from NJ Hubby’s Cumtribute to Lola

Sharing Couple of NJ Enjoying the Stories

Sharing Couple of NJ Getting off to Lo

Of course, for Lola this is more fodder for the fapper.

Then there’s Floss and Nikki of FlossDoesLife and LoveIsAFetish, respectively. They both have written raving reviews of the Match, Cinder & Spark books and, what gets Lo going even more, took sexy pics of themselves getting off to the printed page. What else are you going to do in isolation?

Floss & Lola

Nikki of LoveIsAFetish getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark

Both Matt and Nelson of tehben.com have also written glowing, yet critical reviews of the audiobook, narrated by the inimitable Jupiter Grant.

The Beautiful Jupiter Grant

Not only do the reviews get Lo riled up, but Lo listens to Jupiter recite tales of Lo’s ribald antics just about every night, which causes her to alternately laugh and lunge in the bed next to me.

Then there’s the various women Lola’s attempting to seduce via sexy chat: Chelle Silverstein, Francesca Demont, and a woman who goes by the cyber-chat name of Warm Skin.

Warm Skin Getting off to Lo

Don’t get me wrong, this whole ordeal has taken its toll on all of us in so many ways, and Lo is not exempt from that. There are the nights that Lo can’t sleep due to anxiety about losing her job. Afternoons that Lo returns from food shopping and has a full-blown panic attack that she has contracted the virus and is certain to pass it on to me. Lo’s greatest fear? – dying alone. That means, if I die first, which is more than likely given our age difference, then who will be there for her? So, worse than her getting sick, in her mind, is my getting sick and dying! There is the frequent fretting about family members who are already fighting this virus in far-flung points on the map. Yes, we don’t talk about family too much here, but we do have relatives who are now among the ever-growing statistics you read about in the news.

For Lo, the go-to stress relief from all this ever-higher mountain of seen and unseen woe is found right between her legs.

Lo practicing Social Distancing Stress Relief, pass it along.

Finally, of course, there is just your straight-up porn that Lo has been watching. Lo has a penchant for amateur porn and her latest infatuation is with the couple Lindsey and Mike Love. Just as Lo and I fulfill the fantasies of many of our fans, I believe, Lindsey and Mike live out the fantasy life of Lo. A married couple who enthusiastically got into porn together from the tender age of eighteen and rise to amateur stardom, getting rich and having fun. I think the thing that Lo likes the most about the pair is that they have a real relationship, a story, and that they are very open to exploring sex with all genders, together and solo.

An hour later, Lo emerged from the bedroom. “Daddy, it’s hot in there. Will you help me open the window?”

I entered Lo’s lair of self-love. I opened the window with ease to let in the ocean breeze, but it immediately deflated downward.

“Is it broken?” asked Lo.

“I don’t know. It definitely doesn’t stay up like it used to.”

Without missing a beat she quips, “I’m sure you can relate.”

Stay safe everyone and we’ll see you on the internet.

Lola in all her glorly!

Body of Work

Posted on January 9, 2020 by Lola Down

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A while ago I wrote that even in today’s topsy-turvy world, Lo and I attempt to avoid politics and political positions in the things we publish. Yes, we’re political in our everyday lives. I mean, who isn’t? To be a-political is to say, “I don’t care if other people make decisions for me or what decisions they make.”

Deborah de Robertis

But here, in our little nook of the erotic blogosphere, we do our best just to tell a good, sexy story and keep you all out there engaged. It’s a safe space for us and hopefully for you from all the noise, hatred, and vitriol that surrounds us.

But then, one morning while listening to an interview with the creator of “The L Word,” Ilene Chaiken, I heard her say of the show that, “I think it’s revolutionary in America because we’re such a sex-averse culture. And to talk about sex, not just lesbian sex or LGBTQ sex, just to talk about sex is revolutionary.” That gave me pause and totally reframed this little endeavor of ours.

Mia Kirshner

Maybe she’s right. Maybe, just writing these lewd, crude, prurient, perverted, sexual, salacious, suggestive, and explicit stories is a political act.

I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of this before since, during the course of our career as sex enthusiasts, we’ve been banned from: PayPal, WordPress, Tumblr, MeWe, and most recently, Pinterest. After that last one, Lola turned to me and said, “Since when did being sexy become a crime?”

The L Word

I said, “Darling, you have looks that could kill. Your body is a dangerous weapon if in the wrong hands.”

We were kidding around, but really, she’s right and so is Chaiken. In our society, sex – consensual, adult, legal sex! – is treated as a contagion that must be contained. Beauty, especially the beauty of the unadorned human body, is hypocritically exalted in museums but excluded from life. It is sequestered away as if the halls of high culture were but a peepshow parade for the few, but not for the many.

Deborah de Robertis

Deborah de Robertis

Deborah de Robertis

A keen example of this is the performance art of Deborah de Robertis. In 2014 she entered the Musée d’Orsay, sat down in front of Gustave Courbet’s painting, “The Origin of the World,” hiked up her golden dress to her hips, spread her legs, and displayed her genitalia. This may seem like the bizarre behavior of an exhibitionist unless one is aware that Courbet’s painting is a beautiful oil painting of a woman’s naked torso, prominently displaying her cunt – the origin of the world. Like any great piece, her performance art could be interpreted in a variety of ways. The way I understand her work is as a statement about society. “Look here! You, you artists, aesthetes, philanthropists, critics, connoisseurs, cultural gate-keepers, and curious members of the museum-going public – look! Courbet says that this is the origin of the world. He’s right. This, the window of women through which you came and into which you cum; this is the origin and center of the world. Yet, here I am, proudly displaying mine right next to the framed work, and the latter imitation you prize and protect while the former flesh and blood you censor and persecute. You hypocrites! You despisers of the female form, the body, the earth. You cower in fear before the frothing flaps from which you emerged.”

I digress. All I am trying to say here is that we are proud of our body of work and proud of our fellow sex bloggers, sex workers, sex enthusiasts, and all of our readers and fans. People say the Sexual Revolution took place in the ’60’s. Well, by the looks of things, the Revolution is far from over. Pick up your penises, your dildos, your vibrators, your anal plugs, your strap-ons, and whatever other toys and tools you use and jack it, jill it, fuck it, fill it! Long live the Revolution!!! Kinksters of the world unite. You have nothing to lose but your clothes!

Deborah de Robertis in front of Lola Down as “Origin of the World”

Public Figure Exposé

Posted on November 20, 2019 by Lola Down

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Katie Hill

This blog is about love, sex, relationships, psychology, and sex. Yeah, I said sex twice because, if the name of the blog is “mysexlifewithlola.com,” then an expectation is created that there will be a lot of sex. So, there you have it.

This blog is decidedly not about politics. In fact, many of you dear readers may have noticed that through all the topsy-turvy turbulent times in which we are living, this blog has delicately navigated a course far from politics. There is a good reason for that. If you are reading this, it’s because it is a fun escape from whatever else is going on in your life. No need to bring all that baggage here as well.

But right now sex and politics have mingled in a way that make it appropriate for us to discuss.

You may have heard about Congresswoman Katie Hill recently. If not, allow me to summarize her story. She was, until last week, a Democratic representative from California. She’s only 32 and she got elected after being the executive director of the non-profit People Assisting the Homeless (PATH). Apparently, she also has a “kinky” side. She came out as bisexual after high school and it is alleged that she and her now estranged husband were involved with another woman in a consensual relationship.

These facts became a problem for Hill when allegations swirled that she had an inappropriate relationship with a male staffer – a violation of House ethics rules that were put in place to prevent exploitation of power differentials in the wake of #MeToo.

But the thing that sunk Hill’s ship was the release of nude photos of her, allegedly by her estranged husband in an act of revenge porn.

It seems to me that in this day and age we need to begin taking seriously the fact that people can be more than one thing. Katie Hill can be a successful, sincere, hard-working, do-gooder striving to help the homeless, represent her constituency, and bring equity and justice into the lives of many. And she can be married to a man, have relationships with women, and not be limited by traditional notions of monogamy. And she can be into taking nudie pics of herself and her lovers. All of this can be true of the same person. “Kink” does not mean bad or selfish or untrustworthy. “Public Figure” does not necessarily mean missionary position for the rest of your life with the same partner of the opposite sex. Aren’t we beyond that yet?

Further, though once upon a time it was the height of scandal for a woman to be exposed – think Phryne being exposed by her lawyer in ancient Athens, Lady Godiva, A Night in Paris, or The Great Celebrity Photo Leak of 2014 – today it seems as if everyone and their mother is eager to have their racy photos on the internet and trending! So what is the big deal? Andy Warhol spoke of everyone having 15 minutes of fame in the future. I think now that everyone will soon have their top 15 nude photos on the internet.

As optimistic as that may be, we also need to be realistic. There are still many backward-thinking, bigoted, misogynist, mean-spirited, spiteful, and opportunistic people out there who are not above using a woman’s nude images against her.

Lo and I were pondering all of this when, just the other night, one of her female friends from the NFWITSFW part of the internet (that stands for “no fucking way is this safe for work”) told her that she wants to be “exposed.”

“What do you mean, ‘exposed’?” asked Lo.

“You know, like, I want the pics of me nude and pregnant to be the first image result when someone searches for that.”

Lo said that if I wrote a story about her friend and posted it, she probably would be. Though Lo is a “sinfluencer,” I think she overestimates our power of “product placement.”

Our friend, Karla, or KB HotWife, as she likes to be known, said, “Use my real name.”

“What?!” asked Lo.

“Yeah,” said Karla.

“You’re sure to get all the attention you crave if we do that, but be careful what you wish for,” cautioned Lo.

Luckily for Karla, I’m not a speed writer. The next day she told Lo she changed her mind.

Both Lo and I were relieved. It’s one thing if she wants to use her own name, but we didn’t want to be the ones to expose her. Who knows, she might want to run for public office some day!

[Below, enjoy some photos Karla has sent us for you to enjoy.]

Autoerotica

Posted on September 19, 2019 by Lola Down

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Lo, at it again

“Come,” I heard her yell from the bedroom down the hall as I walked into the house after a long Friday at work. She might have been saying “Cum!” to a lover. There’s never any way to tell from the sound of her voice – only on the page.

I cautiously walked down the long hall to the bedroom. What would I find?

The door was open a crack. I peeked in. She was naked, on her tum, her round rump nicely illuminated by the setting sun. Her legs were bent at the knees and her bare feet dangled up in the air, twined around each other. In her hand she held her phone.

“Come in, Daddio,” she said without turning her eyes from the screen in front of her.

I walked in and removed my jacket and tie.

“What you up to?” I inquired.

“I bet you’d like to know.”

“That is why I asked,” I said flatly as I removed my shirt and undid my belt.

“Get naked, get hard, and get in me,” she commanded.

“I’m already hard,” I said.

“As you should be,” she replied, moving her hand to her mouth, licking her fingers and then moving her hand to her ass and circling her wet fingers around her special spot.

“Oh,” I commented, “You want it like that?”

“No, Daddio,” she said, “I’m just enjoying myself.”

Always coy when it comes to her ass. Always for someone else, or for her own pleasure, but never for me.

I got behind her and tried to look at her phone by leaning forward over her back and seeing over her shoulder.

“Get up there and fuck me,” she instructed, her finger still rounding her sweet spot as I slid into her puss. “I’ll tell you what I’m looking at.”

I did as she said and she told me that a fellow blogger, a woman named TJ, wrote to us saying, “I love reading your blog. It gets me so wet.”

“Really?! Do I know this TJ?” I asked as I thrusted harder.

“She writes The Lustful Empress.”

I slowed down a bit trying to remember which erotic blog that was.

“Don’t stop!” Lo said as her hand grabbed the girth of my cock and she pushed her ass back into my hips, bouncing off of my bare bodkin.

I resumed my powerful, pleasurable, pelvic pounding.

“Look,” she said, putting her phone up on her back for me to read the email. It said:

I love how accepting you are of Lola’s magnificent sexuality. You guys seem to have ‘it’ don’t you? I wish I could masturbate as openly as you do, Lola. I feel self-conscious, like an addict or something. But I fucking love fucking myself. . . it’s the best. I am more autosexual than anything else I think. Keep celebrating each other.

Fan mail like that makes it all worth it. Well, that’s not completely true. I know that I would be writing all this whether no one read it, or only one person read it – Lola. But knowing that others read it, enjoy it, and get off to it is the icing on the cake.

Speaking of icing, as I read the email, Lo began to climax as one hand worked her ass and the other, from underneath, worked her clit. Her Kegel muscles contracted and I was squeezed out of her as she curled into a convulsing, throbbing ball, squirting uncontrollably. The more she pushed her knees up to her breasts in a tightly bound fetal position, the more she sprayed the bed and my knees. I lifted up her phone to prevent it from being ruined by the liquid.

TJ, author and model of The Lustful Empress, getting off to Lo

“Fuuuu-uuuuck,” she groaned as the last bit of lady juice spurted out of her.

When she regained control of her limbs, she slowly got up and pulled the soaked sheets with her, dropping them in the laundry basket. “I’ll clean up, Daddy, but right now I have to get ready.”

“Ready for what?” I asked, holding my throbbing, hard rod in my hand.

“My date.”

“Date?”

“With Robert. I told you, didn’t I?”

I just looked dumbfounded.

“We’re going to the movies.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“And what are you seeing?”

“The Favourite.”

“Is he your favorite now?” I asked, demoralized.

“No, Daddio, she said, caressing me and looking up at me with those beautiful big brown eyes. “That’s the name of the movie. It’s a period piece.”

“Really? Not a porno?”

“Well, I hear it has a lot of woman-on-woman sex scenes.”

“I knew it!”

“But that’s not why we’re going to see it.”

“You’re going to see it to have sex in a crowded theater.”

“Oh, Daddy, you always impute to me the most debased of motives.”

“So why are you going to see it?”

“It’s historical. It has great sets, acting, and costumes.”

“And?”

“And probably to fuck in a dark theater.”

“Don’t get caught.”

“But getting caught is at least half the fun. Does that make you jealous?” she asked, as her hand stroked my hard cock.

“So you’re leaving me home alone on a Friday night?”

“Not totally alone,” she said, “You have TJ.”

“Who?”

“TJ, the woman from the blog.”

“Oh, right,” I said to my consolation prize.

Lola made the bed and I watched her tits droop as she bent over to tuck in the sheets. Her naked body moved like a delightful dance as she unfurled the blanket.

“Look,” she said, as she hopped back in the bed and took up her phone. I sat next to her. Her left hand stroked my hard erection up and down as she scrolled through TJ’s blog with her right hand.

We read and looked at the photos together.

Lola

TJ of The Lustful Empress

“She sounds like she could be your twin sister,” I said as I read about how TJ becomes aroused by her own naked body.

“Hold this,” she said, giving me the phone.

Now, with her right hand she was stroking her pussy and I scrolled through the blog.

“Oh boy,” I said, “You want her.”

Lo bit her lower lip.

“Lo,” I cautioned, “You just made the bed. You don’t want to. . .”

Before I could finish my sentence, she had jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before releasing her ejaculate all over the tile floor with a scream.

When she had regained her composure, she got some paper towels and got on her hands and knees to clean up the mess.

“What time is your movie?”

“Eight,” she called back. “But we’re meeting for drinks first.”

“Well, you’re going to be late,” I told her.

She jumped in the shower and I continued to look at the blog, hard up.

“Hey,” she called to me, “you’re not allowed to cum. You know that, right?”

“I still don’t understand how that is fair,” I said, taunting her.

I got up and looked at her in the shower.

“Get!” she screamed. She hates when I see her in her shower cap.

“How is it fair that you get to cum twice and then go on a date with another man and I’m not allowed any autoerotica myself?”

“First,” she said from behind the shower curtain, “it’s not autoerotic if you use someone else’s pictures. Second, you didn’t count the three times I came before you got home.”

“Lo, now you’re just. . .”

“And third,” she cut me off, “this has nothing to do with fairness. It has everything to do with me. What I want. What I allow you. Got that? Don’t forget it.”

Lo jumped out of the shower and hastily dried off before slipping into a blue dress and blue heels. No panties.

“You’re going to be cold like that,” I cautioned.

“I’m planning on things heating up quickly,” she said.

Soon enough she was out the door, leaving me alone.

I scrolled through TJ’s blog, which I recalled I had seen before, and I thought to myself, “She said no cumming, but she didn’t say no edging.”

I spent about an hour going through each and every post before I thought to myself, “If I don’t stop this right now, I’m going to explode!”

Stoya Left, Lola Right

In order to take the edge off, I switched to photos of Lo, which are always fair game, and I pulled out the old Stoya Fleshlight. Lubing up Stoya and myself, I imagined what Lo was up to with Robert. I didn’t even need to see Lo’s photos. Soon enough I was cumming and cumming hard and deep in Stoya’s pussy, just thinking about Lo in a dark theater, legs spread, and Robert discretely moving his hand up her smooth thigh until reaching that wet pussy, pulsating with anticipation. Gently he would rub and flick her pussy lips, clandestinely making her cum. I pictured her hands gripping the seat and her upper teeth biting down on her bottom lip to prevent the scream from escaping her mouth. That was enough to bring me over the edge and release me into a deep sleep.

Performance Art

Posted on September 11, 2019 by Lola Down

4

Lola at Eroticon

I get in bed. I think Lo’s asleep, but she isn’t. She unbuttons my pj bottoms and pulls out my cock and grips it tightly with one hand. Her other hand is between her legs. She begins stroking my rod up and down. She spreads her legs and moans. I begin to maneuver myself over her body in order to penetrate her, but she says, “No, Daddy.”

“No?”

“No. Just lie on your back.”

“But, don’t you want me?”

“I want dick. I want to hold it. Just stay just like that,” she says. I give in to her request to lie on my back as she grasps my member with her left hand while stroking herself with her right. Her eyes remain closed. Her breathing accelerates. Her breasts heave. After ten minutes or so, she begins convulsing. She lets go of my phallus and grabs the sheets beneath her with her left hand as her right hand is plunging in-and-out of her gushing pussy. She moans, screams, and cums in waves.

After she has a moment to catch her breath, I ask her, “What were you imagining?”

“It’s bad, Daddy.”

“I like bad.”

“I was envisioning us,” she says enigmatically.

“Us how?”

“I imagined that we were going to the Erotica convention and that we were headlining for a reading of Match, Cinder & Spark. It was at a dingy theater in a foreign town. Up on the marquee it read, in big red letters, ‘LOLA DOWN READS XXX.’ We were backstage. I had you peek out from the wings at the audience. It was slowly growing in number – men and women. Finally, about five minutes after the show was supposed to start, the host or MC for the evening took the stage and announced the rules, ‘No photography! No recording! Yes, masturbating, as long as you don’t make a mess of the seats. Please turn off your cell phones and give a warm, wet welcome for Lola Down and H.H.!’ The place erupted with applause. You and I walked out onto the stage. There was only a rectangular table and two chairs. On the rectangular table was a microphone and a tall glass of water and a pitcher of water. We bowed and sat in the chairs. I opened Match to one of my favorite passages and began reading. I was wearing only a sexy red dress with strappy heels. No panties. No bra. I began with my legs crossed. I continued reading and I uncrossed my legs. I gave the audience a quick flash of my puss. I continued reading. I spread my legs again. I dropped one hand down to my crotch and began masturbating. With the other hand, I held yours. I paused for a moment. I took a sip of water and looked out into the audience and said in a breathy voice, ‘It’s getting hot in here.’ You lovingly pulled the shoulder straps of my dress off of my shoulders and I pulled my arms through them. I continued reading. You slowly pulled down my red dress to reveal my breasts. I continued touching my puss as I wiggled and wriggled out of the dress until it lay on the floor at my feet. Finally I was naked and I continued reading the passage but, at a certain part I stopped. I was beginning to climax. You took over. At the sound of your voice I came and I came hard – screaming and squirting. You finally finished the passage. You invited people up to the stage to have their copies of Match signed by the two of us. As each person came up, they stopped before me with the book open to the page they wanted signed. Usually it’s opened to a full color picture of me doing something naughty. Some of the men asked if they can masturbate to me. ‘Now?’ I asked. ‘Yes,’ they said, politely. I agreed. They pulled out their cocks and they began jackin’ it over me as I sat naked in the chair. You sat and watched. They came. They came on my body, on my face, in my mouth, in my hair, everywhere until I was cum-covered. After everyone got what they wanted, you took me backstage. There, some women who were part of the convention were waiting and they got clothes and a bucket of warm water and they cleaned me off. ‘Was I good, Daddy?’ I asked you as they were tending to me. ‘You were wonderful,’ you said.”

Hot & Cold

Posted on September 1, 2019 by Lola Down

2

Oh, Hi!

When I left, Lo and I were in a big fight. It’s never good to leave for a week-long business trip halfway across the country on bad terms. Especially with Lo. There wasn’t one thing that was the catalyst of this rift, but rather lots of little things. Both she and I had been dealing with pressures at work, I had been recovering from the flu, she had an unexpected major expense that had to be paid. We both were stressed, exhausted, and short-tempered. Each of us had been prickly with the other, like two porcupines in close quarters.

“Come here, Daddio,” she said the night before I left as I was getting ready for bed. It was her way of trying to rekindle the relationship. “I’m so cold. Come and warm me up.” Though she really was cold, she also was naked on the bed, spreading her legs for me, rubbing her puss.

“Cold? Looks to me like you have a very warm fleece,” I said of her au naturel triangle, “and all that friction you’re making might light that bush on fire.” The words came out more sarcastic and biting than I intended. My loving little banter was not warmly received.

Watering the Bush

“If you don’t like it, you can’t have it,” she shot back, covering herself with the blankets.

“I never said I didn’t like it.”

“Well, too late. This bush is only for someone who truly appreciates me.”

“And who might that be?”

“ME!” she said, pulling out her Hitachi, her dildo, and her phone.

No sooner had she gotten the giant white ice cream cone revved up and the dildo delved in deep and the phone queued to one of her favorite porn videos than, to her great surprise, the phone rang! She nearly jumped out of the bed. She dropped the Hitachi and it was still buzzing. Her dildo was left dangling, and she had to fumble with her phone as she said hello because all the moaning and groaning sounds of the porno film were still playing.

“Hi Lo,” the person on the other end said, “Is this an ok time?”

“Yeah. Yes. Sure. Just one sec.,” said Lo as she tried to compose herself and shut off all her stimulation devices. Finally she was focused on the call and I climbed into bed next to her, stroking my cock. Seeing her pleasure herself still gets me off after all this time. But seeing her interrupted and frustrated is a rare delight.

It was Robert. He needed someone to talk to. He was feeling despondent. And he had been scrolling through the blog.

I curled up next to Lo and whispered, “Don’t tell him I’m here,” as I guided my cock into her cupped hand. She mindlessly gave me a hand-job as she talked to Robert. Or rather, I should say, I eased my way in-and-out of her palm. She was unaware of or unconcerned with my movements.

She talked to him in a consoling and kind tone, listening to his lament of loneliness. He hadn’t been with someone in so long. The night at the museum was such a powerful moment for him. Since then he had done more study of Koons and his Made in Heaven installation.

Jeff Koons and his wife Ilona Staller, “Made in Heaven”

When I heard that, I was both amused and angered. I’m the one who turned Lo onto Koons! I deserve the credit for that. Whatever.

I continued to slide my cock in-and-out of her cupped hand. I kept quiet.

“What did you like about it?” asked Lo to Robert in her seductive tone of voice.

“I, um, I liked, I like that you suggested it to me.”

“Really?” asked Lo, intrigued. “Why?”

“Lo, I, uh, I never met a woman like you.”

“Go on,” she said, captivated by the story of herself.

“You’re so brazen. Is that the right word? So, daring. So. . .”

“Slutty?”

“That’s not the word I was going to use.”

“Use it,” she commanded.

“What?” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her properly.

“Call me a slut. I like it. Say it. I’m touching myself now.”

She wasn’t. She was holding the phone with one hand and my member with the other.

“OK,” said Robert. “You’re a slut.”

“Yesss,” said Lo.

That was too much for me. I pulled back and grabbed my cock and came all over myself as Lo looked on, desirously.

Now she was touching herself.

“Are you jackin’ it?” she asked Robert.

“Am I. . . ?”

“Are you jacking off? Stroking yourself?”

“No,” he said, as if offended.

“Why not?”

“Lo, I didn’t call you like someone would call a phone sex service.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. I. . .”

“But you can. What do you want to hear?”

There was a long silence on the other end interrupted only by Lo’s occasional moans of pleasure. Self-pleasure.

“Do you want to hear that I loved sucking you off?” she asked.

“You did?”

“Yessss,” she said.

“Why?”

“I love sucking cock. Any cock. Lots of cock. I love helping guys out. I love giving relief. Let me help you. Are you by your computer?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Pull up a pic of me if you haven’t already.”

“I, I, I,” Robert stammered.

“You already had it up, didn’t you?” accused Lo.

“I did,” he admitted.

“Good. Which pic is it?”

“It’s of you in your neon blue panties stroking your pussy lips.”

“You like that?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Well that’s exactly what I’m doing right now. I’m stroking my wet, pink, pussy lips with my beautifully manicured fingers, slowly sliding them up and down and in and out. Does that turn you on?”

“Yes.”

“Are you stroking your cock?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, I want you to hang up the phone and take pics of you stroking it to my pics. Make sure my photo is in the frame so I know that I’m the one who is making you hard and makes you cum. You will cum, won’t you?”

“If you want me to.”

“I do.”

“OK.”

“Do it and send me the pics.”

“OK.”

“And Robert.”

“Yes?”

“What am I?”

“A dirty, filthy slut.”

“That’s right. Don’t forget it,” she said and she hung up on him.

I was cleaning myself off when she got the notification that a text was sent to her. She opened it. There were three photos. One of Robert jackin’ it to her pics. One of him cumming. And one of the mess he made. Lo looked at them again and again and she eventually came herself.

“Thanks,” I said.

“For what?” she said.

“For making me cum,” I said.

“Oh, did I do that?” she asked, sincerely unaware of her passive powers.

The next morning, before Lo woke up, I was off to the airport, sad that we hadn’t properly reconciled.

Writing Down Lo

Posted on June 9, 2019 by Lola Down

Reply

What does it mean to be an “underground” author in the age of the internet?

Lately I’ve been reading a lot of and about Charles Bukowski. Largely ignored for most of his life, he submitted his rough, distinctly “low-brow” poetry to independent and small press journals. Through these he gained an “underground” following that slowly grew by word of mouth until other independent and small press publishing houses printed his works in book form for that “underground” fan base. Bukowski’s work caught the eye of other writers and musicians, mostly in the L.A. and San Francisco areas, until eventually he caught on nationally and even internationally.

But in today’s media world, what does it mean to be an “indie” author or to have an “underground” following?

fan pic

This indie author, whom you are now reading, dear valued patron, has a substantial following, or, shall I say, a much larger following than I ever imagined would sprout from my initial blog posts about Lola. As I have explained in various interviews elsewhere, this compulsion, which borders on graphomania, came into being because, after a few months with Lo, I discovered that there was almost no literature out there about being in a relationship with a nymphomaniac. Since no one else was writing about it, I figured I’d toss my hat in the ring and give a first-person account of what it’s like – the proverbial trials and tribulations as well as the orgasms and titillations.

Before I knew it, I was suddenly gaining a following and garnering the praise and accolades of other fellow sex-bloggers. Women were sending me fan mail and nudes of themselves, much to the consternation of Lo. Men and women were writing to Lo and sending her all sorts of salacious selfies, much to her lurid enthusiasm.

The Beautiful Faye Daniels getting off to Lola Down

Our subscriptions and unique visits to our blog went up and soon we were being featured on sites like Bustle and Top Sex Blogger lists.

I compiled various stories into books and those sold swiftly. And now, today, we have over 20,000 followers on our various media outlets.

However much those numbers might dwarf the reach and following of a Bukowski back in the day, with the potential of today’s technology, that seems far less impressive than it would have been when the only way to get your writing in front of a reader was through the mimeograph machine.

Are you, dear confessional confidant, part of an underground audience? Does it even make sense to speak of such in today’s complex and multilevel media ecosystem? Or is “underground” just a term that is used retrospectively to describe a core following of people that read a certain author before he or she hit the mainstream? Is it something that can only be applied with hindsight?

I don’t know the answers to these questions and I suppose, on some level, it doesn’t matter since I write about what I love and I love what I write about – Lo. As long as the love is good, I feel the writing will be good as well. And though the letters and gifts from the readers are flattering and the money (what little there is) earned from the writing is appreciated, what matters most is that I really enjoy doing what I’m doing.

Caught

Posted on May 23, 2019 by Lola Down

6

Lo came home from work late that night. I had already eaten dinner and was lying on the couch engaging in my favorite illicit pastime while Lo’s away, watching “SMILF.” She walked in just as Frankie Shaw was engaging in a self-pleasure solo session, which isn’t all that coincidental, given how often she does that in the show. (Since Frankie Shaw writes and directs the series, I think that she secretly wishes to be a porn star.)

Lo Likes Little Penis Porn

Lo stood next to the couch looking down at me, judging hard.

“What?”

“You know what,” she said, accusatorily.

“I was just. . .”

“I don’t care what you were just. Turn it off. If you want to see a sexy woman engaged in sex-for-one, then get in the bedroom. I’ll be there filling my snatch full of fun.”

I shut off the episode and met Lo in the bedroom where she was on the bed, legs spread, dildos laid out next to her like a surgeon’s tray of scalpels, forceps, and clamps. She had her phone in her left hand.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“I call it my ‘in box.’ It likes to be filled.”

I didn’t know if she meant what she was looking at on her phone or her beautiful mons pubis, which at the moment she was about to penetrate with her long, red, double-ended dildo.

Self-Care

I removed my clothes and sat in the bed next to her, vying for her attention. She was busy reading something. I inquired.

“I’m reading about my friend and blogger, Nero Black. His wife caught him about to masturbate.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” she said, easing the dildo into her tight taco. “His wife loves to read erotica and masturbate, but she never lets him get in on the goods.”

“How does he know her reading habits?”

“He has access to her Kindle subscription and sees what she downloads.”

“Oh.”

“And he’s hard-up as a result.”

“I bet you find that an open invitation to flirt.”

“Who wouldn’t? Anyhow, the other night he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his pants and boxers around his ankles, his phone in one hand and his cock in the other, when she unexpectedly walked into the bedroom.”

“Uh-oh. And?”

“And she ignored him! She acted like she didn’t even see it.”

“And that gets you off?”

“No, what gets me off is imagining that the porn she reads is our blog and that the porn he was about to wank to was my photos.”

She dropped the phone and lay on her back to continue the fantasy.

“Did you ever get caught?” I asked her.

“Caught? Doing what?”

“You know, jillin’ it.”

“No.”

“Never?”

“No.”

“Not by any of your previous boyfriends?”

“Look, it’s not something I hide. If they found me jillin’ off, then I kept on going. So it’s not like ‘getting caught.’ It’s more like putting on a show.”

And put on a show she did, without ever offering to provide me with any sweet relief. Punishment for my “infidelity” watching Frankie Shaw.