Marsupial Position

After the first Cum Cube companion had left, Lola heard the special knock at the door.  It was still ten minutes before her next appointment.  Lo opened the door cautiously.  It was Meri.

MILF Meri desperate at the bar for some real cock

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry,” Meri replied, “I couldn’t stay away.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” replied Meri, dismissive of Lo’s insults.

“HH calls me that all the time.  I take it as a compliment.  Like, ‘You’re incredible!  You’re amazing!  You have the sexual powers of a goddess.’  You know?”

“Oh, so you think you’re paying me a compliment?”

“It all depends on how you take it.”

“How did you take it?”

“Take what”

“That guy’s cock.  That’s what.”

“Fast and deep, front and back.”

“I figured.  I could hear you cumming from across the street.”

“You could?”

“Of course!”

“And now you want some?”

“Are you going to deny me?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”  Actually, after her first session, which was so much more than she could have imagined, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle any more and was glad for the reinforcements.

“When’s your next appointment?”

Lo looked at her watch.  “He should be here any minute now.”

“I gotta get out of these clothes then.”

“Yes, hurry,” said Lo, helping Meri out of her winter attire.

Soon Meri was in nothing but a white bra, her white nylons, and her red pumps.

“There’s one rule you have to keep.”

“What’s that?”

“You have to remain bent over, facing this wall.  The idea is that there is a certain level of anonymity.  They can’t see you and you can’t see them.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“But I though you vetted them on-line?”

“We were still anonymous there.  They are afraid that if I know who they are, I could blackmail them.”

“Blackmail?”

“Yeah, because of their wives and families and such.”

“Oh, right.”

“And I, well, you know, I just like anonymous fucks anyhow.”

“Oh, I know!”

There was a knock at the door using the secret code.

Lo released the latch and the next patron of the arts entered the sacred space.  He was confronted with not one round, beautiful rump ready to be mounted, but two.  One naked, used, and welcoming, and one, larger than the first, squeezed into the tight-fitting nylons.

Mr. Next Up came in and didn’t say anything.  He just ran his hand over both rears that were confronting him.  He gave Lo’s a little smack and then pulled Meri’s tights down around her knees.  He began fondling both of them – Lo with his right hand and Meri with his left.  He then got on his knees behind Lo and began licking her ass, perineum, and pussy as he continued to fondle Meri, inserting a finger into her pussy and then his thumb into her ass.

Both Lo and Meri were now grinding on him – Lo on his tongue and Meri and his digits.

“Fuck me,” said Lo.

“Fuck me!” insisted Meri.

The girls could hear him unbuckle his pants and then heard him let his pants drop to the floor.  He fumbled with a condom and then he was up against Lo’s rear with his hips.  Lo felt his huge heft – not of his cock, but of his stomach – flop down on her lower back.  He was slapping up against her with his hips.

“Hey, slow down,” said Lo.  “Are you even in?” she asked, moving her right hand behind her, under his giant beer belly, to grab his pecker and point it in the right direction.

When she finally got ahold of it, she was like, “Wait, is this it?”

“I, I, I’m having trouble with the condom,” a deep voice replied.

“Fine, forget the condom,” said Lo.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Lo saw a tiny piece of rubber land on the floor by her feet.  It reminded her of a finger cot she once used in a science class.

She reached behind her again and felt a tiny, protruding, almost pimple-like bump.

“Is this you?” she asked.

“Yes,” came the shameful response.

“Try again,” said Lo, pulling the nub toward her.

His hips again slapped up against Lo’s ass.  Lo shrugged her shoulders.  She couldn’t feel anything.  Especially not after her first romp.  But she wasn’t going to let on.  She moaned and groaned, oohed and aaahed like she was being fucked by King Dong.  Lo’s cum-cooing turned on Meri and Meri moved her right hand under Lo to feel the tips of Lo’s tits as they lilted forward and back, swaying heavily under her as Lo was bent at a right angle, perpendicular to the wall that supported her.

“My turn,” insisted Meri.

They guy pulled “out” of Lo, even though Lo didn’t think he had even penetrated her, and followed suit with Meri.  Meri looked at Lo and Lo made a hand gesture with her thumb and index finger indicating that this guy was no more than an inch at most!

Beer Belly and Meri

Meri’s eyes rolled and then she put on the act.  “Oh yeah.  That’s it.  Fuck me!  Fuck me like the whore I am,” and so on.  She was nearly laughing and getting Lo to giggle as she hammed it up.

“Are you a bad girl?” asked the panting voice from behind her.

“Yes, so bad.”

“How bad are you?”

“I’m a dirty slut.”

“Do you have kids?” he asked.

“Yes, three sons,” she said.

“I can tell.  Your pussy is much looser than Lo’s.”

“Oh, but you fill it up so good,” she said – insulted by his comment, but still feeling superior since she knew that even if she was tight as a virgin, he still wouldn’t feel her due to his microscopic appendage, nor would she feel him.

“I bet you say that to your sons,” he said.

“Sometimes,” replied Meri, playing along, but also, truthfully with regard to her youngest.

“Yeah?  Are you a dirty whore at home?”

“I’m a dirty whore everywhere I go.”

“Tell me about it,” he said.

Lo, at this point, was growing tired with being mere window dressing, or window undressing, however the case may be, even though there were no windows and Lo was already undressed.

She rolled onto her back and then slid underneath Meri’s drooping and swaying tits until Lo was straddled by Meri’s knees.  Mr. Small was smacking away at Meri’s backside without penetrating or pleasuring any part of her pubic area.  Now Lo’s little flower spread just below Meri’s larger petals, allowing for the choice of four portals to pleasure instead of just two, but none of which were within reach of the man’s petite probe.

Meri’s nipples fell to Lo’s open mouth and Lo licked, sucked, and bit gently on them.  Meri flaunted her large, full breasts before Lo’s face, taunting her with her much larger and fuller tits, though, unlike Lo’s perky breasts, Meri’s drooped and sagged.  Lo enjoyed Meri’s matronly mammary offering, but then slid up further in order to kiss Meri’s open mouth as Lo wrapped her legs around Meri’s hips and her arms over her shoulders and held on like a marsupial.

Meri looked down at Lo’s face and laughed.

“I can’t feel him,” she whispered and Lo laughed too.

“Oooh, yeah,” said Lo, mockingly.

“Ahh, fuck me,” said Meri in the same jocular tone.

The two of them giggled as the man furiously flapped his hips forward and back like a large walrus trying to slide headlong on the sand.

“Oh, you’re so much better and bigger than my husband,” said Meri over her shoulder.

“Yeah?” asked the guy.  “Tell me about him.”

“He’s so small, I never feel him.  I haven’t had an orgasm with him in ages!  That’s why I whore around town like this,” she said, giggling in Lo’s ear.

Lo lapped it up and held onto her older, sexy, voluptuous MILF mentor with joy and delight, squirting and dribbling over her lower lips.

“Never brought you to an orgasm?”

“I didn’t say never,” Meri replied to his question.  “But so long ago that I can’t remember it.”

“That’s horrible,” he said, “why not?”

“He’s an enormous man with a small cock and as a result of all his bodily girth and lack of girth where it really matters, he can’t even get close enough to me to enter my pussy.  Every time we have sex, I end up jerking him off with just my index finger and thumb.”

Suddenly, the slapping of fat on ass stopped.  Before either Lo or Meri knew what was happening, the man had pulled up his pants and left the Cum Cube.

Lo looked at Meri, puzzled.

“Why’d he go?” she asked.

“That was Scott,” cackled Meri, squealing with delight, “my husband!”

“Nooooooooooooo!” replied Lo, shocked.

“Yes!”

“How do you know?”

“I know how my husband fucks.  I know the wheezing sound he makes when he’s overexerted himself.  I know the feeling of that tub of lard that flops over his beltline and lands on my lower back before he makes his pathetic attempt to fuck my pussy.  I know how small his dick is – it’s unusually small and almost uniquely so – and how he cannot, no matter how he tries, get it in the hole.  He’s like a horny Chihuahua trying to mount a Great Dane!  And I definitely know that brand of condoms – ‘My Size’ – that he has to import from England.”  She pointed at the condom on the floor and laughed at its pathetic diameter.

“How do you think he. . . I mean, how did he?  I was so careful about who I. . .”  Lo didn’t have the words, she was so shocked.

Meri shrugged her shoulders and said, “He has probably been tracking my internet usage.”

“No!”

“Yeah,” she assured, “he’s been suspicious of my every move ever since our failed attempt to throw him off my scent.  Your little seduction of my husband (and my three sons) seems to have backfired.  I figured he was up to something.  But now I know for sure.  He must have gotten some spyware and downloaded it onto my computer and phone.  He probably knows every pornographic website I click on, my every email and chat message, my every phone call.”

Lo looked dismayed.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“What is there to do?” replied Meri, shrugging her shoulders.  “Go home and face the consequences.”

Just then, there was a loud knock at the door of the Cum Cube.  It was not the secret code knock.  Just an insistent three bangs on the door.  Lo and Meri were startled.

“Just a minute!” Lo chimed, trying to find something to put on.

Lo was wearing just her coat.  Meri, too, put hers on as Lo opened the door.  It was the police.

“What’s going on?” asked Lo, surprised.

“Shut down.”

“What?!”

“You have to shut it down.”

“I have permission from the mayor.”

“This is on orders of the mayor.”

“I don’t understand.”
“Apparently, the press got word of this do-gooder operation of yours and a lot of people are upset about it.”

“Upset?”

“Protesting City Hall.”

“But why?”

The officer shrugged his shoulders and said, “All I know is I got to shut this operation down.”

Lola and Meri were escorted out of the Cum Cube by the men in blue, leaving behind all the paraphernalia that Lo had so meticulously arranged inside her little sex oasis: the Match, Cinder & Spark books, the magazines, the posters.

After the shutdown, the cube didn’t just go away, it was repurposed as a municipal “lactation station,” but in reality, people used it as a masturbation station.  In fact, one handsome crew of six guys sent Lo one of her favorite tribute shots – all six gay or bi men in a circle jerk over her glossy image on the cover of a magazine!

Cum Cube cumtribute pic

Queen of the Primal Horde

The first customer?  Or is it patron?  Client?  First cummer.  That’s it.  Anyhow, the first guy on Lo’s Naughty List showed up and gave the special secret knock at the door of the Cum Cube.  Lo let him in.  The door swung open and Lo was bent over in her diaphanous panties when he entered.

“Fuck me,” was all Lo said.  She didn’t want small-talk.  She didn’t want to get to know him.  Something about anonymous cock was really turning her on that morning.  Actually, the idea of anonymous cock had been revving her engines all week in anticipation of this.  She loves, loves, loves watching ‘The Milking Table’ vids to get off, as you probably already know.  The milking table, glory hole, dogging at night – the one thing they all have in common is anonymous cock.

The Milking Table Porn

Her eagerness for a fast, furious, filthy fuck was shared by the now naked man standing behind her bent over body.  He wasted no time and actually ripped off the panties.  They presented little resistance since they were mere gossamer-thin lace.  Lo was taken aback by the violent opening gambit.  She mourned the loss of her panties, but only for a split second.  In a split second more, her legs were split as her paramour entered her without hesitation and, on the first thrust, filled her to the hilt!  She braced herself by putting her arms straight out in front of her up against the wall and met his forward motion with an equal and opposite backward motion.  His firm front slapped up against her round rear and she called out with joy and squealed with delight as he rapidly, repeatedly, and roughly rammed his way to her record-setting climax.  She came, gushing all over his rigid rod.  But, it was only the first of many for her.

Lola in her see through black panties

Within a few moments, as he continued to be a battering ram barraging her bum with rhythmic, repetitive, roiling thrusts, she went into a dissociative fugue state.  This is unlike Lo, since she lives to fuck and fucks to live, she usually is very much in the present moment when penetrated by a long, thick prick.  But in this instance, as she braced herself against the steel wall of the Cum Cube and her lock-in lover ravished her, she free associated the cube with a conjugal cell of a prison.  She had never actually seen or been in one, but after her excursion to the prison to run an errand for me which turned into a peep-show for my incarcerated client, she had been dreaming of being the go-to girl for the boys (and girls) behind bars.

In her fugue state she was transported to a conjugal room on prison grounds.  The man behind her was the biggest, baddest, meanest, inmate of the entire state penitentiary system.  He was covered in tattoos on his bulging muscles.  He worked out every day to the extreme due to sexual frustration and a surplus of testosterone.  In her mind’s fantasy, if he behaved as the wardens wished, he was allowed one conjugal visit a month as a carrot, a bribe if you will, so he wouldn’t beat up or kill other inmates.  They allowed him to have one of Lola’s calendars on the wall with a different photo of her for each month.  This gave him the inspiration to change his behavior and moderate his extreme temper.

Whoah!  Lola felt her actual conjugal guest go right in her rear without so much as giving a warning!  After the initial shock, which sent her head spinning, she eased into it and began to enjoy the anal annihilation.

“Will it Hurt?”

Lo returned to her fantasy of the felon.  In her imaginings, he had a back-story.  He was an extreme survivalist who had lived in the woods.  He had an underground lair and whenever he came across hikers or campers, he abducted the females.  He kept them in his cave like a harem.  He had a large wolf-dog that he let mount the women as they wished.  This went on for years until the FBI finally caught up with him and arrested him.  They put him on trial but none of the women would testify against him.  He was like a cult leader to them.  They adored him and voluntarily lived under his protection – some as young as ten or eleven.  He was to them something between Charles Manson and Tarzan.

Captivating

In her wild imaginings, Lola was one of the abductees, but she rapidly climbed up the ranks to become his favorite concubine, Queen of the Primal Horde.  After he was convicted and sent to prison, he railed against his confinement and pined for Lola.  The guards quickly learned that the promise of her pussy was the only thing that would curb his violence.

All the other inmates were forced by the guards to assemble in the small outdoor cages, topped with razor wire, while Lo was escorted past them in her black leather heels, her nylons, her red pencil skirt, her white, cut-off sweater showing a lot of cleavage, and her large, dark sunglasses.  She also wore an extremely large, floppy sunhat that drooped over her face to give an added sense of mystery about her for the inmates.  They all knew what she was there for and they all lined up to see her when she was done too.  They watched as her now ripped nylons dripped with gobs of warm cum and her hair, which had been beautifully and perfectly quaffed, was now messed as if pulled from behind.  Rather than walking with a stride and sashay, as she had when she arrived, she now walked gingerly, as if she still felt the pain of that enormous cock up her ass.

Lola in her big red floppy hat. Art by Starlight Cassette

Speaking of which, now her real-life rear rammer was alternating between Lo’s primary and secondary pleasure promenades.  (I’ll leave it to you, dear reader, to decide for yourself which is which.)  Lola was squirting every time he came out of her V and went to her A.  By now there was a large puddle in which she stood, her feet spread wide and partially submerged.

In Lo’s vivid visualization, the prison guards hatched a plan to provide them a fun distraction from the monotony.  Seeing how all the inmates cat-called Lo, pressing themselves up against the chain link fence as she passed them by, they arranged to have a boxing match between Lo’s lover and any challenger who thought he could go the distance in the ring with him – no gloves, no protective gear, no rules.  The prize – an hour in the conjugal cage with Lola.

The next month and each month afterwards, instead of just rewarding Lo’s beau with the privilege of Lo’s pussy, they made him defend his title and his conjugal prerogative.  Thus, he would meet Lo in the fornication station black-and-blue, bloodied, sweat pouring down his face, chest, arm pits, as he burned with fever in his triumphant entrance.

This elaborate transposition of Lo’s current circumstances brought Lo to many more orgasms – so many that she felt she couldn’t stand it.  She literally couldn’t stand anymore.  And, pent-up with so many months of loneliness, her anonymous associate came too, engorging the condom he wore for their mutual protection.  Oh, how Lo dearly wished he could have cum inside her – front or back – and made her a Christmas cream-pie.  But on orders of the mayor and Board of Health, that was not to be.

A Hotwife’s Guide to Cuckolding

We interrupt this story of Lola’s Cum Cube to bring you, hot off the presses, a steamy review of Nathalie Bardot’s A Hotwife’s guide to Cuckolding:The Subtle Art of Fucking Whomever You Want

Author and Hotwife Nathalie Bardot

Cover Art: Lola Down

 

A Hotwife’s Guide to Cuckolding – yes, that is a title that I could not pass up and that I knew immediately I had to read.  I had to see for myself if this Nathalie Bardot was speaking from experience or merely selling copy.  I had to find out if she had something to teach me or if I had seen and done it all.  And I’m here to tell you, Nathalie Bardot is the real deal and there’s even a thing or two that even a seasoned slutty hotwife can learn from the pages of her guide.

Hotwife Nathalie Bardot getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark

As she tells us in the prologue, “there are actually people genuinely interested in discussing the cuckolding lifestyle.  However, in this context, people almost exclusively refers to men.”  Her goal with this book is to “describe the cuckolding lifestyle from a female perspective.”  Yes, that is sorely needed.  And if you’re a woman who is even remotely interested in having a thing on the side, then this book is for you.

Nathalie Bardot and all she needs to get off.

I appreciate that she begins with “Definitions” and distinguishes between a cuck and a stag.  The former often takes delight in being humiliated by the sexual promiscuity of the hotwife, the latter not so much.  But, in either case, they both have in common a pleasure that is derived from the hotwife’s “satisfaction and sexual growth.”

Nathalie Bardot and Cuck Hubby Eric with Match, Cinder & Spark

If you read this book, if you have ever engaged in being a hotwife or a cuck, a stag, or even a bull or cuckqueen, there is one formula you should know and that this book repeats out of necessity: Have a solid foundation of love, trust, and excellent communication!

Nathalie Bardot, Hubby, Match, Cinder & Spark

Many men/husbands will find this book useful (if they follow its instructions) because Nathalie is very clear that, though so many men want to see their wives fuck around, not every wife or girlfriend wants to live that lifestyle and Nathalie is explicit that this is about her pleasure, not his.  If a woman derives pleasure from this arrangement, then her man may, as a happy “externality” (as economists put it) also enjoy it, but if she does not derive pleasure from it, then he has no business forcing this upon her.

Nathalie gets warmed up

Nathalie explains that introducing the idea (no matter who is the one to introduce it) should be gentle and exploratory.  She recommends reading erotic novels “on the theme of the wife seeing other men and the husband really enjoying this” together.  Might I suggest here starting with the collection of Match, Cinder & Spark about yours truly?  She also recommends reading blog posts together about a couple in this lifestyle.  Again, perhaps you might want to start with mysexlifewithlola.com.  Just saying.

Nathalie preps for a visit from her bull.

Nathalie has a whole chapter on the “benefits of being a hotwife” which include increased horniness, better sex with your partner, and my favorite – constant butterflies in the stomach, as well as that extramarital, post-coital “glow.”

Nathalie Bardot: “I’m ready for you. Read to me.” Match, Cinder & Spark

Nathalie goes into a lot of important details about the lifestyle, including rules and the importance of following them, cock size and how, though it is not the most important aspect of a man, she does “truly enjoy getting stretched out” (as do I!), and how to find a bull.

Match, Cinder & Spark – it’s THAT GOOD a read

A few other things that Nathalie and I have in common include that she sometimes shows her man her “newly shaved pussy before leaving, telling him I shaved exclusively for him.  Of course, he’s fully aware that I’m being completely ironic.”  And, when she leaves her man behind to go on a date, she is sure to tell him that “he’s not allowed to cum” while she’s out, “no matter what.”  It was nice to see we share these little quirks.

I also appreciated that this is not simply a book to turn you, the reader, on, but to give you practical advice, like the chapter on insuring your personal security.  Everyone thinking about getting into the lifestyle should start with that.

Nathalie Bardot The Toast of The Hotwives

Finally, this book is not simply a steamy read that allows a glimpse into the mind of a sexy, experienced, and happy hotwife, but it helps you (whatever your role in the triangle you occupy) to navigate these complex and challenging, but fun and fulfilling, encounters with the benefit of advice from someone who has been there before and will cum there again!

You can find more of author Nathalie Bardot on Medium.com

Check out more of Nathalie Bardot’s writings here.

Stiff Competition

Lola didn’t know if she was in trouble, but she was on her way to meet the director of the sperm bank.  She walked down the long hallway, lined with the framed color posters of David Hamilton’s work, and at the end of the hallway she knocked.  “Come in,” she heard a man’s voice say from behind the door.

Art by David Hamilton

Art of making art by David Hamilton

Art by David Hamilton

We shall save for later what transpired behind the director’s closed door after Lola entered it, but for now, let us pick our story up when Lola arrived at the clinic for a third appointment with Terence.

They met in the parking lot, as usual, and Lola was wearing her long white coat, but this time she had a surprise for Terence under it.  Or rather, she had nothing to surprise Terence with under her coat.

Inside the clinic the receptionist again directed them to room #3.  Upon entering, it was Lola who was surprised, for on the walls, in place of the framed posters of Lola’s cream pies, were framed posters of Ellie, the night-shift receptionist who had helped Terence by coaxing his cum out of him (before Lola fulfilled that job) and by reading to him from Match, Cinder & Spark.  Apparently, she found out about the Lola poster substitute and that Terence was “two-timing” her with Lo during the day.  She took liberties and removed Lo’s framed photos, replacing them with her own.

Ellie Mowbray

Ellie cumcovered

One poster was a black-and-white of Ellie, nude, spread eagle with cum covering her hairy pussy.  The other was of her on her knees taking one cock in her mouth and two cocks on either side of her as she stroked them off.  You couldn’t see her face in either of those posters, but, just to make sure there was no mistake, there was a framed photo of Ellie in a salmon colored outfit of shorts and an oversized blouse wearing glasses and smiling or almost laughing.

Ellie Mowbray

Ellie knows how to please three guys at once

Lola thought, “It’s on.”

“Whoa!” said Terence upon seeing the framed photos.

Ellen Mowbray

“You know her?”

“Um, yeah.  She’s the one who used to help me out.  She works the evening shift.”

Lola began to walk out of the room.

“Hey!  Where are you going?” asked Terence, confused.

“To request another room.”

“Why?”

“I find it rude.”

“Rude?”

“Desperate.”

“Desperate?”

“Thirsty.”

“Thirsty?”

“Is there an echo in here?  Look, she’s clearly still salty about what happened with Steve.”

“Steve?”

“Her ex-boyfriend.”

“What happened?”

“Ah, you can read all about it on the blog.  She’s just being petty.”

“Maybe she wanted you to see it.  Maybe it’s for your pleasure?”

“You like?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“I do.”

“Fine,” said Lo.  “Pull out your pud.”  She was very matter-of-fact.  No seduction, no sensuality, no affection.

Terence, who had been looking forward to this for days, was eager to comply.

Lo then opened her overcoat to reveal she was wearing absolutely nothing under it!

“Ellie ever help you like this?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

Lo put on the latex gloves, lubricated, reached down between his legs and began stroking him.  She leaned forward so that her breasts were dangling tantalizingly in front of his face.  She exaggerated her hand motion so that her heavy breasts wobbled and banged up against one-another.  He couldn’t take his eyes off her heaving mounds.  Lo slowly slid her hand down below the shaft of his cock to his large balls.  She massaged them and fondled them, gently playing with them with her fingertips.  He clearly liked it.  Lo didn’t speak this time.  She just watched his facial expressions.  Her focus went from his face to his crotch and back again.  And again.

She then surreptitiously slid her index finger down below his balls to his perineum.  She used a feather-light touch on it for a while and then cautiously, furtively slid her index finger further south to his anus.

“Are you a top or a bottom when you’re with men?” she asked.

“Switch,” he said in a tense whisper.

“Stand up,” she commanded.

He got up out of the chair.

“Turn around,” she ordered.

He complied.

“Bend over,” she said, “and let’s have a full rectal exam.”

He bent over.  She inserted one, then two, then three fingers of her right hand as her left hand reached around and stroked his cock.  He was looking up at the large poster of Ellie on the wall.  Lola was too.  Lo continued her erotic massage, but it wasn’t long before he said, “The cup!  The cup!”

Lo passed him the specimen cup and stroked him as he held the jar in front of his cock and filled it with more of his donation than he ever had before.  His knees buckled and his entire body went tense and spasmed.  He could hardly stand.  He let out multiple calls of Lola’s name.  Then he collapsed back in the chair, his cock still twitching.

He passed the collection cup to Lo who screwed on the lid tightly.

Lo smiled at him as she stood before his depleted body.  The contrast between her tall, strong, lusty, flush and full body standing naked over his weak and limp body couldn’t have been more pronounced.  She removed her gloves and threw them in the special trash bin for contaminated waste.

After he regained some of his vigor, she said, “Now you stand up and let me have the chair.”

He complied.

Lo sat in the chair, put her feet up on it, spreading her legs, and she began making small circular motions over her clit with her right hand.  He watched her intently.  Her movements increased in speed and intensity until she was now rubbing up-and-down in small, rapid strokes.  This technique got more intense still until she was patting and then slapping her wet pussy.  She progressed to inserting one and then two fingers deep in her pussy.  She fingered herself for about a minute until SPLOOSH!  She squirted straight ahead, sprinkling Terence with her holy water.  It was a long, strong, and voluminous stream that soaked him and his clothes.  He didn’t seem to mind.

Ellen Mowbray

Ellie leaving work after a hard day

Ellie Mowbray

Ellie getting off after a hard day at the masturbatorium

Elln Mowbray

Ellie third from right

Hallucinatory Hijinks

When Lola had returned from her Halloween party, dressed as slutty Princess Leia, she seemed coherent, cognizant, and eager to fill her cunt with my cock and cum.  Little did I know that she had eaten enough cannabis confections to outstrip an LSD trip of Grateful Dead proportions.

It was only the next day, when she groggily recounted to me the amazing journey she had taken in her mind and body, that I realized what her subjective sexperience was.

What I thought was happening the night Lola got home from the Halloween party. Art by RigsUsuallyHiddenDrawings

 

“I got home,” she said when she was more sober, “and I felt like I was a honey pot.  Or rather, that my pussy was a honey pot.  I was gushing and oozing, sloshing and dripping.”

“I can confirm that much was true.  I didn’t know at the time it was from so many men at the party finding release between your legs.”

She didn’t take offense at this, but corrected me, “And women.”

“Yes, and women.”

“And then,” she abruptly stopped.

“And then what?”

“It’s so weird!”

“What is?”

“Well, then it was as if I was copulating with. . .”

“With what?”

“With all sorts of insects – bees, hornets, spiders, worms, cockroaches, beetles, slugs – I mean, if it crawls, flies, or slithers, it was fucking me.”

“Formicophilia,” I said.

“Formi-wha?”
“Formicophilia.  It’s an unusual paraphilia.  The kink of having insects crawl on you.”

“But they weren’t crawling.  They were fucking me!  I was human.  It was interspecies sex!”

“It’s a variation on a theme.”

I caught her looking at me funny.  Staring at me.

“What?” I finally asked.

“Oh, Daddy, you know what,” she said.

“No, I don’t know what.”

“Those words.  You know how your vocabulary turns me on.  The fact that you had those words – formicophilia and paraphilia – on your tongue.  It make me want to be on your tongue.”

“Now?” I asked.

“Now.”

“Will you continue telling me your story?”

“Yes.”

Formicophilia Nymphs

She didn’t even get up to go to the bedroom.  Right here on the living room couch – the couch that looks out the front windows of our first floor apartment onto the street – she pulled down her panties, pulled off her shirt, and spread her legs.  She indicated that she wanted me to get on my knees in front of her and go to town with my chrysostom, my golden tongue.

I did exactly that as she continued to recall to me the stimulating horror of her drug-induced hallucinatory hijinks.

“Normally, you know, I’m creeped out by anything – a spider, a snake, even ants!  But in my visions, I wasn’t freaked out at all!  I was focused on the fact that all these creatures wanted me!  They were bursting with need.  They were on the verge of insanity with their hunger for me.  They had to copulate and I was the one and only focus if their intense sexual attraction.”

SLURP – SLOP – SPLUSH

That was the sound of me taking her in my mouth – sucking on her labia, licking up and in her slit, gently tickling her clit.

She continued as her hands held my head between her legs.

“Then the creatures morphed into unidentifiable organisms.  Aliens maybe? Squids? And then everything, everything I touched became a penis.  It was like. . .”

After that, I couldn’t hear what she was saying.  She squeezed her thighs together tightly and her legs covered my ears.  Good thing too, because she began screaming as her juices dribbled down my chin and her legs started to twitch.  She pressed my head down hard with her hands and then, just as surprisingly, pulled me off of her so that she could stroke her pussy with her hand as she squirted in my face.

That was the last I heard of her story.  I retrieved some paper towels to dry off and to clean up the puddle left on the hard-wood floor.

She simply laid back on the couch, relaxed, and dozed off.

 

 

 

Interview with Author, Dominatrix, and F-Girl Emme Witt-Eden

This week our good friend and talented writer, Emme Witt-Eden, a.k.a. “Mysterious Witt,” became a full-fledged author with the publication of her memoir: Confessions of a Middle-Aged F-Girl. (You can read our review here.)

She was generous enough to sit down with us for an interview about the book, writing, marriage, and of course, sex.

Promo for Confessions of a Middle-Aged F-Girl

 

L – Congrats on your new book, Confessions of a Middle-Aged F-Girl! And thank you for letting me (or us – me and my man, H.H.) read it ahead of time to write a review. We loved it! We each devoured it in about three days. When we got together to talk about it, we devoured each other. What a sexy ready. But it’s also so personal – I mean, it is a memoir after all. Since it is a memoir, as opposed to an autobiography, it only portrays a sliver of your life – from the time your marriage fell apart to your emerging as a self-aware, self-confident f-girl. Tell us how you’d characterize yourself in your marriage and before. I mean, in the memoir you say you “claimed” your sexuality, not “reclaimed it,” because you felt like you never actually had it to begin with, but what was your sexuality (real and fantasy life) like before?

EWE – Ha-ha! I wouldn’t characterize myself as a completely self-confident f-girl in my book. I was still suffering from quite a bit of insecurity and was working my way through this throughout the entirety of the book. But I did definitely find myself again through sex, even though I still met with other challenges, such as some bad matches in bed and a guy who totally broke my heart.

But back to the other part of your question. I would say that my sexuality has fluctuated quite a bit throughout my life. I was very prude and full of shame in my younger life, even if I had sex for the first time at 15. I really didn’t enjoy penetration and a lot of it was because I felt like I was doing something bad. I come from a very conservative family and sex was always framed as something that I was giving up to a man who would use me if I wasn’t careful (and prude). And even after I got married, I should still feel shame surrounding sex, because my parents definitely treated their sex life – or what I knew about their sex life – in that way. Sex was something to hide at all costs, they were not going to talk to me about it, and I was not allowed to ask about it. I hate to say, but as I came into my own as a young woman, I suffered quite a bit from the mother wound, meaning my mother had a very negative view of sex, and I, sadly, adopted that.

I only started to open up – sexually speaking – when I became a dominatrix after college (pre-marriage!). But I didn’t see that job as sexual. I thought domming was just about treating men like garbage. (If you’d like to learn more about this era of my life, please read my newsletter The Accidental Dominatrix.) Nevertheless, my job as a pro-domme helped me deal with some of my shame. Little by little, my body image improved, and I started to explore myself sexually. And yet, during that time, I still maintained the belief that I had to keep my body count low or no man would ever want to commit to me. I did not embrace, nor did I completely own my sexuality, in that era, though I was on my way to getting there. This is why I say that I only finally “claimed” my sexuality after I left my first husband, as even when I was working in the sex industry as a dominatrix, I was still quite prude and felt like I was always at the mercy of men whom I let have so much control over me emotionally.

Fortunately, after my divorce, I finally worked through these issues. Finally, I was able to enjoy sex just for sex – and that was incredibly liberating! In that regard, I say that I finally “claimed” my sexuality. I hope that makes sense.

And…. to fully answer your question, I would say that I did have some BDSM fantasies even when I was working as a pro-domme. I had the desire to be dominated, but for the reasons I explained, I wasn’t ever able to experience it in a satisfying way. Back then, kink wasn’t viewed as it is today, as this fun thing that’s pretty benign, just a way to spice up sex. Back then (this was the 90s), kink was seen as a pathology. Though I had kink fantasies, when I would tell my lovers about them, they always thought I had some sort of mental issue. This was extremely painful and I’m very glad that we’re much more open today about the healthy, normal reality of kink.

A little cross-endorsement from Emme Witt-Eden

L – You’ve been in the lifestyle for some time now. As I recall, you used to not show your face in your posts on Medium.com and other social media, but now you do. Does this mean you’re “out” to your friends and family? And, I guess most importantly, does your ex-husband David know about this memoir?

EWE – Yes, you’re right, there was a time when I didn’t show my face because I was very keen on protecting my family from scandal. LOL. But seriously, I have kids whom I wanted to protect. I was also protecting my conservative family from embarrassment and pain. I’ve already been told that I’ve hurt my family. Quite a few of my family members know about my dominatrix past. It’s just so much pressure on me to feel like I’m bringing people so much pain just for exploring and writing about my own sexuality. I know this sounds crazy! But to make everyone happy and to keep the peace I once decided to hide my identity.

Not just that, there’s a part of me that likes privacy. I have a social life with other parents from my kids’ school and I just don’t feel like having to explain some of my life choices to these people. And I think many of us are like this. We have a face we show one set of friends and colleagues and a face we show another. We might have a professional face that we show our workplace friends, but they don’t know what goes on in our bedroom. I’ve happened to have chosen to make a profession out of what goes on in my bedroom and so it’s created this tension. A lot of people are simply not the appropriate recipients of the spicy news of my sex life. So, when they find out about it, I have to first listen to their judgments, and then decide whether we’re going to continue to be friends. This has basically resulted in me having much fewer friends, because, as a rule, people are very close-minded.

A couple of years ago, when I decided to show my face, several things had happened. I realized that I wasn’t going to get ahead in my writing career unless I started revealing what I look like. And when I did, I knew I would lose people. And so I basically had to get to the point where I was so tired of hiding parts of myself that I realized it was better to lose everyone. I’m just not interested in perpetuating the balancing act of ensuring certain people like me by hiding so much of myself. I’m finally ready to own up to who I am and that’s why I started showing my face. Of course, I still write under a pseudonym for now. Part of that is to just protect myself from trolls. It’s a crazy world out there, I’ll tell ya. Oh, and David does know I’ve written about him. He doesn’t care enough about my writing to give a crap, though. God, I’m glad we’re divorced.

L – Are your kids old enough to know about your “alternative” lifestyle? Have you told them or did they find out? Or will you be telling them at some appropriate time?

EWE – My kids still aren’t old enough and it’s really not appropriate for me to talk about it with them. However, my second husband, the man whom I’m currently married to, really applauds the way that I talk about sex with my kids. I’m very open and I talk about sex in a very calm and clinical manner. I don’t clam up and feel shame or tell my kids to stop asking questions. My current husband wasn’t like that with his kids and so he looks at my openness as this wonderful thing. I am able to guide my children as they learn about their sexuality, and I can do this in an open and honest way. And that is the result of the life I’ve led. But when the time is right, when my children older, I will tell them more about my life. I no longer feel shame. I’ve led the life I have because I’m curious and felt like a major part of my humanity was basically off-limits to me because I’m a female. I simply decided to explore those taboo territories. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Emme Witt-Eden

L – In the book you mention taking a creative writing class (and crushing on the professor). Would you workshop your erotic stories in the class, or did you keep it PG for the other students (and the hot professor)?

“Hey Emme, where you going?”
“My creative writing class.”

EWE – Hells no, I never workshopped my erotic stories in class. But I was writing a novel about the implosion of my marriage. It was basically a thinly veiled memoir, and a couple of those chapters did make it into Confessions, though in different form. I published a lot of the other stories under a different account on Medium. Yep, I get around… But no, I have never workshopped my erotic stories, and honestly, even my novelized stories have scandalized people. Sometimes I really hate other writers. I find writers to be the most conservative group of creative people. Musicians and visual artists are so much more chill.

L – What inspired you to turn your shorter works of writing into a book-length memoir?

EWE – Once again, I felt like I could get farther ahead in my career by actually having a book. A book gets people’s attention the way shorter pieces don’t, even though my shorter pieces have been quite lucrative. But writing a book is also a huge risk. If a shorter piece bombs, it’s no big deal, you just write another one. If a book bombs, then you’ve spent quite a while writing it and that sucks. Fingers crossed this project does well.

L – Care to share some of your favorite authors and/or books?

EWE – In the last year, I’ve been reading a lot of Annie Ernaux, Virginie Despentes, and Guadalupe Nettel. In my heart, I’m a literary fiction fanatic. Oh, and Maggie Nelson’s books are the bomb.

L – Care to share some of your favorite erotic authors and/or books and/or porn?

EWE – I like Japanese porn a lot because the actors tend to look like they’re actually enjoying the action, instead of just acting for the camera. American porn is so histrionic with the actors acting so fake, continually looking toward the camera because they know they’re being filmed. It’s obvious it’s a performance, and as a female, that’s a turn-off for me. Men probably don’t notice it, but I do. I’m not sure how you categorize your Match, Cinder & Spark series, but your man, HH, writes some of the best erotica I’ve read! And the photos and art of you are – well, let’s just say “inspiring”!

Emme Witt-Eden getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume V: Shorter Shorts, in public. An author, avid erotica reader, dominatrix, and exhibitionist!

L – I noticed in the memoir that, with all the f-girl shenanigans you got up to, there was no girl-on-girl, anal, bondage, or water sports. You make it very known in the book what you do and don’t like. Are those not on your kinks list or did you grow into them later?

EWE – Oh, there was a little bit of bondage in the first chapter of Confessions. You’ll have to wait for the girl-on-girl action for the new book I’m writing. In terms of anal, that’s not something that I typically engage in as a hookup, so there wasn’t much in this book. Luckily, my current husband is the one who gets to enjoy having his dick up my ass. In terms of water sports, that’s something I explored as a dominatrix but honestly, I’m not really into that.

L – What advice, if any, would you give to young married mothers who are in committed, but rather unstimulating relationships, somewhat like you were in just at the start of the memoir?

EWE – My advice? Well, they committed to this guy for a reason, so they might as well make the best of it. I would advise doing everything they can not to let the passion die. I would schedule date nights and sex. A lot of people don’t like to schedule sex because they think that’s not romantic. Well, this is just the way it is once you get married and have kids. We can no longer drop everything and have sex whenever we want. So schedule sex. Don’t, and watch the passion fizzle away.

Then again, if you’ve tried everything and it’s still not working out, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with considering a divorce. That or an open marriage. Non-monogamy is no longer perceived as the crazy thing it once was, so I think it’s a great way to deal with mismatched libidos

L – Any bucket list goals you hope to achieve this year?

EWE – I really want to get the sequel of this book done!

L – What can we expect from future publications by you?

EWE – You can expect my second book in this series: Confessions of a Middle-Aged F-girl in Costa Rica. And then my third: Diary of a Middle-Aged Sugar Baby.

L – Thanks Emme! We cannot wait to see those books come out as well as a prequel about your time as a dominatrix!!!

You can find Emme Witt-Eden, a.k.a. Mysterious Witt here:

F-girl dating Instagram: @mysterious_witt

Kinky consultant Instagram: @emmewitteden

www.emmewitt.com

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