I Want to Drown in Lola Down

Posted on April 26, 2020 by Lola Down

[The mini-series, “Mount Bliss,” continues from “Shadow of a Doubt”.]

“Yes, Daddy. Yes,” she said as I fucked her. She was flat on the bed, spread eagle, pulling her ass cheeks as far apart as she could with her two hands as I lodged my lustlever as far in her lubricated lovehole as possible. After so long of being apart, we were finally together, no matter the circumstances of how that came about. I had desired her. I had dreamed about her. I had been deprived of her. Now I wanted to be depraved with her. She was already there. I was along for the ride. We were two feral fires fucking.

“My ass, Daddy,” she said over her shoulder.

I pulled out and reentered in the desired spot.

A few lunges deep down, down in Lola Down.

She opened up for me like a brilliant rose in the heat of an August sun-shower.

“My cunt, Daddy,” she said.

I pulled out, still dripping from all the fresh spunk that was slathered on my rigid rod from her previous “lover,” and descended again down deep between Lola’s labia. She was full like a warm pool and her lubricant and loose lips made it so that, in comparison with the tight quarters from where I reamed her in the rear, I could hardly feel her hugging my manhood.

“Turn over,” I commanded as I pulled out of her and lorded my staff over her body like a saber.

“First go in my ass again,” she requested.

I complied. While I was in there, she and I contorted and twisted, legs this way and that, a pull and a turn, but we managed to transpose into anal missionary position so that now she had her legs wrapped around my hips as I delved into her dark recesses down under.

“Alternate,” she commanded.

“What?”

“Back-and-forth from my ass to my pussy and back again with each thrust. Please.”

I did as she pleaded. She wanted to be used in the worst sort of ways. I had lost track of how many times she came. Or was it all just one orgasm? The sheets were soaked as she kept gushing each time I uncorked her geyser to fill her other hole. I was truly amazed at my own stamina. How long could I last? Especially after a week of abstinence. But following her commands took concentration and skill which prevented my mind from focusing on how much of a cock-hungry cum-slut Lola was.

“I want you in my mouth,” Lo said, begging to be degraded even further.

I pulled out of her ass and sat on my haunches, my cock pointing intently toward the sky.

Lo spun around on all fours like a dog at its bowl and began licking from base to tip before enveloping the entire elongated, taut organ into her mouth all the way down to the back of her throat. She devoured it with desire.

Her debauchery and debased disposition, her unabashed and naked carnal corruption, her wild, animalistic craving, intoxicated by its own brazen disregard for society’s norms flooded my spirit with its dark light – the lure of antinomian revelation in which all dichotomies disappear and thought dissolves back into the primordial sea of the body from which it first emerged and hovered over the surface of the deep.

“The Good Place”

Posted on April 12, 2020 by Lola Down

[We interrupt the mini-series, “Mount Bliss,” to bring you this timely tale of Lo’s date from Easter last year. We hope you enjoy it and hope that you have also been enjoying the mini-series. We will do our best to continue with the last few installments of the series this week. Happy Easter to everyone! We hope you are all safe, healthy, happy, sexy, and enjoying all of our content!”

“The Good Place”

It was Easter Sunday morning and we could both sleep late, finally. But I awoke to Lo screaming, “Fuck! God! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!!!” and a buzzing sound. I felt the sprinkle of her holy water on my foot and then she turned to me and said, “Oh, morning! Best alarm clock ever, right?” as she shut off her Hitachi Magic Wand and pulled it out from under the blankets. She jumped out of bed, bare-ass, and said, “You have to get up now, Daddy, because I have to strip.”

“You’re already naked.”

“I have to strip the bed. Get up.”

Reluctantly I got out from under the blankets as she peeled them off the bed to reveal the puddle she had made. She removed the sheets and tossed them in the laundry basket.
“A happy Easter to you too,” I said sarcastically. “Was that you reciting the Rosary?”

“No, but I can get my beads, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“What beads?”

“My anal beads, of course.”

“You are a sacrilegious sex-addict!”

“You are a silver-tonged poet!”

“Now that we have stroked each other’s egos, what else would you like to stroke?”

As she was taking out the fresh sheets, she picked up her Hitachi and said, “Now I know why they call it a Magic Wand! Because it does the trick every time!”

Meanwhile, I was standing naked, my cock saluting her sexy body as she moved and jiggled making the bed.

Once the corners were all tucked and the bed turned down, I jumped in.

“Hey!” she said, “I just made that!”

“Yeah, well it was made just for me.”

“No, it was made for me. . . to get laid.”

“I don’t object to that.”

“Later,” she said, to my great disappointment.

“What do you have to do now?”

“I have a date.”

“What?!”

“A date, with a girl.”

“What?!” I said again.

“Yeah, I took out another ad,” she said, nonchalantly, as she tossed her phone on the bed for me to see.

Lola’s Ad featuring Lola Getting Off to her 18″ dildo

Adventurous, sexy, intelligent, fun female seeks the same for good time out on the town and in the bedroom. I like to dominate and, occasionally, be dominated. I’m experienced and in an open relationship, but he will not be part of this. Trysexual – I’ll try anything! D&D Free. You be too. NO GUYS! Must have voice confirmation. Send e-mail with info about you and pics. Need not be explicit, but must show face.

“When did you do this?” I inquired.

“A while ago,” she said in her Scarlett O’Hara voice as she put on her pink thong panties. “And my date is today.”

“Can I come along?” I asked. It was more like pleading.

“No! Didn’t you read the ad?”

“Yes, but. . .”

“No buts.”

“But your butt. It’s such a nice butt. And it’s such a nice day. Where are you going?”

“We’re meeting for coffee at the café around the corner.”

“I’ll just sit by you.”
“No, you’ll make me self-conscious.”

“Please.”

I must have been very pathetic because she finally gave in.

“Fine, but you have to wait at least ten minutes before you leave, and don’t sit anywhere near me.”

“OK. I’ll just sit where I can see you.”

She put on her cutest pink skirt and white t-shirt top, little baby blue pumps, and grabbed a designer handbag.

“How do I look?”

“You’re missing something.”

“What?”

“A pink Easter bonnet.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous. Remember, ten minutes!”

“Yes, I know. I still have to get dressed anyhow.”

She was out the door and I rifled through my drawers to find something inconspicuous to wear. I put on the first things I found and dashed outside. I could see Lo’s little caboose sashaying down the street about fifty yards ahead of me. It was a beautiful sight along with the pink blossoms on the trees and the budding tulips.

I slowed down as Lo found her date and introduced herself, sitting down next to her at a little table on the sidewalk. Either her date got there early or Lo was late. In either case, Lo’s date was a very cute redhead with freckles. Lo had her back to my approach.

I was hoping to get a seat in the restaurant where I could safely spy on the two of them from behind the plate-glass window. But the hostess seated me outside, just diagonally from them both. Not only could I see everything, I could hear them too! At first Lo didn’t see me, thank goodness, because she would have been very cross at me.

They ordered breakfast and mimosas. I did too.

Lo’s date was not at all what I had expected. Usually the people who reply to these personal ads are men and women (or couples) roughly about Lo’s age – early to mid-twenties. But maybe due to the aging of the technology and its becoming obsolete by newer apps, like Tinder and Bumble, it’s an older crowd that is cruising the virtual personals. (By the way, Lo doesn’t use those more popular apps because she’s afraid of being recognized by her colleagues, or worse, students!) This woman was in her mid-thirties, at least. Maybe forty, but it’s hard to say. Long strawberry-blonde hair, thin, wearing denim shorts, high wedges with straps, and a loose-fitting black blouse. She rocked the outfit, but I was surprised to see a woman who looked like she could be a mom.

The seats outside filled up and it got a little louder. I found it difficult to hear them, but I caught snippets of their conversation. The mystery woman (I didn’t know her name yet) was asking about Lo’s “half-open relationship.” I heard Lo reply, “I’m not homosexual or heterosexual, bi-sexual, or even metro-sexual. I’m very sexual.” I’m sure she followed that with a pass of her tongue over her pearly white teeth.

The woman continued along the same lines, inquiring about Lo’s promiscuity (in a polite way) and Lo said, “I don’t call it slutty. I call it getting my needs met.”

I could see that Lo’s date liked this sort of talk. Lo can be very direct. The date reciprocated. I heard her say, “Your pussy and panties must smell so good!”

To which Lo replied, “Like roses and cotton candy.”

When they had finished their meals and were drinking coffee, the waitress brought them each a complimentary Cadbury egg for dessert. Lo was elated. She unwrapped it and then slowly bit into the chocolate and then said, “Mmmmm, I love to lick out the cream!”

“Me too,” said her friend. “How about we go back to your place?”

“I’m wide open to that idea,” said Lo, and I could see her uncross her legs and remove her foot from her shoe to rub her friend’s calf. “But,” she added, “my man is there right now.”

I wanted to leap up from my seat and say, “No, no! I’m not. I’m right here! Go right ahead.” But I had to keep silent.

Her friend looked very disappointed. Lo hates to disappoint. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, “maybe I can text him and tell him to leave us alone for a couple of hours.”

Her friend perked up at that idea. Lo took out her phone and soon I got a text saying, “Is it ok, Daddy?” Thank goodness my phone was on silent, because the sound of it going off with a text message may have looked suspicious.

I texted back, “Is what ok?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know you’re sitting right there. Is it ok for me to take Meri to our place for a while?”

“If that pleases you,” I texted back.

Lo smiled at her friend. They paid the bill and soon were off to fuck, leaving me with nothing to do on Easter morning. I didn’t even bring a book!

About two hours later and about eight miles of strolling through our sunny city streets, I finally got a text from Lo. It said, “Exhausted! Come home.”

I hightailed it back to our place only to find Lo in the messed bed, naked again.

“Come here,” she said.

“Still love me?” I asked first.

She pulled down the covers and spread her legs as far apart as they would go and said, “Daddy, I love you THIS much!”

“Will you tell me each and every detail?”

“You know I will. I have a pornographic memory.”

I got naked and lay on top of her and plunged my rod deep in her hole.

She said, “Uh uh. No. In my ass. My cunt is worn out.”

I flipped her over on her tum and slid right in.

“You’re so slick,” I said.

“I’m a well-oiled machine,” she replied.

“Now tell me,” I insisted.

“Believe it or not, Meri is a mother of three and the oldest is eighteen!”

“I can’t believe it,” I said, both about what Lo had said and how good her rear entrance felt. “You fucked a mom?!”

“More like she fucked me. She’s been married twenty-two years and has never before been with a woman.”

“Really?”

“She got permission from her husband to find someone to show her the ropes.”

“There were ropes involved?”

“Shut up and keep fucking my ass.”

I am good at taking instructions like that.

“We got here and she couldn’t wait to get out of her clothes and hop into bed. No small talk, no foreplay, nothing. So I asked her, ‘What do you want? To do me or me to do you?’ She said she wanted to do me. She wanted to fuck me good and hard. She has quite the domineering streak about her. So I pulled out my dildo and placed it in her hands. She was amazed at the size of it. I told her not to be shy. I slipped out of my panties and pulled my skirt over my waist and lay on the bed with my legs spread. She began by fingering me. She asked if it was ok first, which I thought was nice. I said, ‘Just fuck me like your little whore.’ That got her going. She used the dildo on my puss, ramming it fast and hard, hitting my spot. She never saw a woman squirt before in real life and she was thrilled that she was able to do that for me! Little did she know that I squirt just about every time.”

Our next book will be called “Slut Life” about Lola’s adventures by the ocean

“Are you squirting now?” I interrupted to ask, since I felt her juices dripping down my thigh.

“Not yet, Daddy. I’m just soaked.”

I increased my speed and depth.

“That’s it,” she said. “Like she did with the dildo in my cunt.”

She pulled up a photo of Meri from her phone to look at it. “She has great tits,” Lo said as she began squirting on me with force, soaking the bed. She suddenly fell forward, lying flat on her tum in the puddle she made, convulsing like a fish out of water. There was no way I could stay in her. I grabbed my drenched, hard baton and lay on my back next to her.

“Are you ok?” I asked.

I saw her eyes roll to the back of her head. She was temporarily blitzed out.

When she came to, she said, “What an amazing day!”

“Full of Easter Eggs,” I said, jokingly.

She played with my hard cock with her right hand, seeing how it bounced back into its rigid upright position when she would bend it down.

“Christ has risen. Christ will cum again,” she said, stroking my member from the base to the tip.

“Good for Christ, but I haven’t cum once!”

She pivoted on her tum so her mouth was over my cock and she put out her tongue as if to receive Holy Communion. “May I have your flesh?” she asked.

She took my cock in her mouth and slid up and down the shaft. She went all the way down to my balls and took them in her warm, wet mouth. It felt good, but I needed sweet release. She returned to the tip and looked up at me.

Momentarily, she pulled up off my cock in order to say, “I wanted to go down on her. I wanted to return the fuck for her. But she didn’t let me. She just fucked me fast and furious and filled my cunt with all sixteen inches of my dildo. I didn’t get to give her any pleasure at all, other than the pleasure of pounding me like a boss.”

Lo went back down on my dick looking up at me again. “Am I a good girl, Daddy?” she asked, looking for approval.

“Did Meri think you were a good girl?”

“I don’t know,” she said as her fingers fondled me between my legs, lightly. “I came by the bucket load, and then she said she had to get going. She had plans with her family for Easter, she said. She got dressed and simply blew me a kiss as she let herself out. I was too weak to even get up. I used my skirt to soak up what I could and texted you.”

“You’re a very good girl,” I said.

I was lying on my back and she got up, straddled me with her knees beside my hips, and she grabbed her ass cheeks with each hand, spread them, and slowly let herself down on my erect cock, guiding it directly into her anus, slowly. I’m not nearly as long as her dildo, but she slid down on me until she was sitting on my pelvis. She pulled her feet in between my legs and sat there, her back to me, and she rocked gently back and forth to feel me deep inside her. I could feel the tip of my member penetrating as far up as possible. She spread her legs and began fingering her clit. She grabbed her red dildo, the one that Meri had used on her, and slipped it up and in her pussy. I could feel it enter her. She was filled and tight and moaning a tune of pleasure. I lay on my back enjoying her ride. She called over her shoulder to me, “Cum in me. Cum. Cum and fill me up. I want to feel your hot. . .”

She didn’t finish her command before I obediently complied. I pulsed with strong spurts of spunk into her hole. She tightened her grip on me even further and I felt as if she wouldn’t let go. I didn’t mind. I liked being there, deep inside her.

I felt her slide the dildo out from her front hole as she squirted down onto her ankles. And then, after a long sigh of relief, she slowly lifted her bum up off of me. I slid out of her as she eased her way up, with both hands grabbing her ass again, and she let all of my cream filling slowly leak out onto my flaccid cock.

Her whole body crumbled as if, deprived of my rigidity, it had no strength to remain upright. She lay next to me on the bed. She curled into her little spoon as I cuddled her as her big spoon. She fell off to sleep in the midst of all the mess she and I had made together, not to mention the mess Meri had made of her. It was only a cat nap. When she awoke, I whispered in her ear, asking her, “Would you like to watch an episode of “The Good Place?”

“Mmmmmm,” she said, moving her right hand behind her, reaching down to my cock and then inserting a finger in her soaked ass, and she said, “This is the good place.”

Asses Up

Posted on April 7, 2020 by Lola Down

[The mini-series “Mount Bliss” continues from “Dutiful Niece.” We apologize for any delay and concern that the delay may have caused. Working on being more consistent content creators.]

“I don’t think this is a story I can tell,” I said to Lo as we were driving back home from the bizarre weekend in the mountains with Lily, Jim, Lily’s Uncle Collin and Aunt Suzanne.

“It sure did get weird fast,” she remarked, looking with a vacant stare out the window as the scenery streaked by.

“The whole thing was weird,” I remarked.

“That’s true,” she said, “but it got even more so once you got there.”

A little background may be in order here, dear reader. Lily and Jim are our very good friends from home. They’re married. Lily is Lo’s age and of her same temperament. Jim is slightly older, with a few hang-ups. Lily’s Uncle Collin had invited the four of us up to his lake house in the mountains for a week but, due to our work schedules, only Lily and Lo could join him for the first five days. During that time, Collin hit hard on Lo and Lo lapped it up, returning his advances with explicit flirtations. Lily, during this whole extramarital exchange, reassured Lo that Uncle Collin and Aunt Suzanne “had an understanding” and that it was fine.

Because Uncle Collin and Aunt Suzanne have separate bedrooms and the former sleeps alone and the latter with her two dogs, the night before Jim and I were to arrive, Lo finally “slept” with Uncle Collin. But it literally was just sleeping together because, as she found out that night, Uncle Collin, virile as he is, he is also impotent and suffers from E.D. due to an accident that injured his spine two decades ago.

The next morning, when Lo confronted Lily about this, it was revealed that Lily was a coconspirator with Uncle Collin to help him gave the female companionship he so long to enjoy with Lo. But, not only that, it turned out that Lo was only the latest in a long string of sexy young friends whom Lily had enticed to spend “quality time” with Uncle Collin.

Saturday morning, Jim and I were headed straight for the eye of this swirling sordid affair.

Just to add even more spice to the already simmering pot, he and I were hard-up from a long five days apart from our respective hotwives and I had just come off of a terrible week, losing my big case that Friday.

I was so wrapped up in my own need to reconnect with Lo and my own dark and stormy cloud from the past week, that I hadn’t even put thought to how horny Lo would be, or Lily for that matter. The last I had heard, Lo, Lily, and Collin had gone to a resort on Thursday and so I had no idea that Lo wasn’t getting her fill of good fucks by Uncle Collin there. But I had heard from my reliable informant about Lily’s big reveal that she adheres to the ‘A.O.L.’ (Anal Only Lifestyle.) A fascinating little tidbit of knowledge that had piqued my curiosity.

After we stopped for coffee and a quick breakfast sandwich at a highway rest stop, we were on the road for a good couple of hours. Once we were a good distance outside the city, as the sun was burning off the morning mist, we saw some horses over in the field on the side of the road.

“You remember last time we all saw Uncle Collin?” asked Jim, slightly bemused by the horses.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Remember what we did?”

“You mean the candle lit therapy session?”

“No,” he said, snapping out of it. “I mean the breeding farm he took us to.”

“Oh yeah, for his ‘prized stallion,’” I said, a little snarky.

“Yeah,” said Jim. “Lo was really fascinated by that,” he remarked. Clearly the experience had stuck with him.

“She’s a size queen,” I blurted out as a half joke, but immediately regretted it when I recalled Jim’s own diminutive size.

He turned to look at me with a quizzical expression. “Then why does she like me?” he asked, genuinely.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that she both pities him and also loves to tease, so I said simply, “She thinks you’re cute.”

He let it drop and resumed his original line of questioning. “So being a ‘size queen’ extends to other species?” he asked, getting to the point.

“To be honest, I think she’s just mesmerized by cock. All cock. She enjoys the power she exerts over it. The power to make it hard, to make it cum, to put someone under her power of seduction. It’s a power trip to her. And part of that power trip is also the power that she feels by knowing she can take something so incredibly large. Call it ‘the power of the puss’ if you want,” I said, laughing to myself about the turn of phrase.

All Cocks

“Has she ever. . .” began Jim, not able to even ask the question.

“Is this our turnoff?” I asked, evading his question.

He looked at his phone to check the map and he said, “The girls are asking if we will be eating breakfast with them.”

“When will we get there?”

“E.T.A. is about 11:00,” he said.

“Let’s plan on lunch.”

“Turn here,” he said.

As I got in the right lane, I saw the sign that read, “EXIT ONLY.” It made me think of a woman I once knew who was adamantly anti-anal sex and remarked to me, “That is an exit only orifice.” I chuckled to myself and thought of what a dirty old man I am and how Lily’s “Anal Only Lifestyle” is not a turnoff, but a real turn-on for me.

“Did our session by candlelight help you and Lily?” I asked, venturing into a topic he hadn’t revisited with me since that fateful night. I suspect he had “confessor’s remorse” after admitting that he didn’t know how to fully please her.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, did you two talk about bringing a bull into the relationship or a little BDSM?”

“It’s more complicated than that. She’s different than you think.”

“How so?”

“I mean, you know that, like you two, we’re in an open relationship.”

“Yeah.”

“But, unlike Lo she. . . .” He trailed off.

“Jim we’ve known each other a long time. You’ve been with Lo. Lily has been forthright and open with us. There’s nothing you should feel inhibited from telling me. I hate to pull this card, but I’m older. Maybe I have some sage advice.”

“Lily has a Catholic girl hang-up about sex,” he finally blurted out.

“What?! Other than Lo, she’s one of the most openminded people I know.”

“It’s true. She’s never had sex. We’ve never had sex, properly.”

“OK, now I know you’re putting me on.”

“I wish it was a joke, but it’s not. She grew up being told that sex is wrong, sex is bad, and girls who engage in sex are doomed to Hell.”

“But they only say that about fornication – sex outside of the marriage.”

“Well, that’s how she got started before marriage and, I guess, she still likes it that way.”

“How do you feel about that?” I ventured to ask, fully aware that I was treading over delicate, as if hiking along a cliff that could fall through at any moment.

It was as if a switch went off in his mind. This normally mild-mannered, easy-going guy became enraged. “I fucking hate it!” he blurted out. “It’s so fucking dumb. We’ve been married almost a year now and every fucking time I want to fuck her, she flips over on her belly and sticks her ass in the air, spreads her ass cheeks and says, ‘I’m ready for you now.’ What the fuck?! Why can’t we just have real, loving intercourse?” He punched the glove compartment.

“Hey, take it easy,” I said, concerned about the damage he was doing to my car and that he’d set off the airbag.

“Sorry, but this has been frustrating me since. . . well, since forever.”

“Have you talked with her about it?”

“Of course I have.”

I felt stupid even asking him, since he was so abrupt with his reply.

“I’m sorry, H, but. . .”

“I understand, Jim. You and I, we’re both frustrated. We haven’t seen Lo or Lily in five days and. . .”

“Yeah, how are you doing with that?” he interrupted to ask.

“With what?”

“With her being around Uncle Collin?”

“Whatever,” I said, dismissively and disingenuously since that thought had been consuming me for days now.

“I forgot, you don’t get jealous about her fucking other guys,” he said, as if bating me.

“As long as she’s honest about it,” I said, continuing to dissemble.

Soon we were pulling down a long dirt road leading to the cottage.

“I’ll text Lily that we’ll be there in a minute.”

“OK,” I said, feeling tense with no appetite other than for Lo.

We pulled up to the circular driveway in front of the picturesque villa. I parked the car and Jim, who had been there before, let me around back to the deck where the girls and Collin and Suzanne, as well as the two dogs, were relaxing.

Lo and Lily were both naked as they day they were born. They got up, their tits swinging and jiggling, their asses looking sweetly tanned, their unabashed display of their bodies admirable. I saw how Collin watched Lo and his niece greet us as we appeared on the deck. His eyes carefully watched ever move, every gesture, every subtle sign, deciphering its meaning and adducing the nature of the relationship. He was a limp snake in the grass. But, mind you, at that point, I still was in the dark as to what had transpired between him and Lo.

I wanted nothing more at that moment than to sweep Lo off of her bare feet and bring her to the bedroom (or the kitchen, or the bathroom, or really anywhere, even right there!) and discover all her stories while plumbing her depths with my philosophically penetrating apparatus.

Pink Grapefruit

Posted on April 1, 2020 by Lola Down

[The mini-series “Mount Bliss” continues from “Sun Shower“]

It was Friday. Though I couldn’t wait to be reunited with my little nymphet, Jim and I wouldn’t be getting on the road until early the next morning. Soon Lola, Lily, and Collin were in the Jeep on their way back to the cottage. They got back just in time for dinner with Suzanne. After dinner and some drinks, Lily said to Lo, “I’m feeling tired. I’m going to bed, but why don’t you join Collin on the deck?”

Suzanne, apparently, had already gone to bed. Always the accommodating guest, Lola took her friend’s suggestion and found Collin sipping his whiskey as he sat in a double-wide swing outside, overlooking the lake.

Lo joined him on the swing and they made some small talk before he invited her to join him in the bedroom.

“What about Suzanne?” asked Lo.

“We sleep in separate bedrooms,” said Collin. “She sleeps with Shadow and Bandit,” he said, referring to the dogs. “It’s been this way for a while.”

Lo followed him through the quiet house to the master bedroom. It was enormous. The square footage of that room alone was probably bigger than our living room and kitchen together. It had a master bath attached in an open plan layout. Lo said she’d like to wash up before bed. She dropped her denim shorts, removed her cutoff top and turned on the shower. She stepped in as Collin watched her. There was no door on the slate tiled shower. The water just poured down from a waterfall fountain near the high ceiling. Lo washed up and then dried off with one of the plush terrycloth towels.

She walked over to the bed where Collin was lying in just his flannel pajama bottoms. She must have missed the brief moment when he changed. Sitting on the bed near him, she removed the towel and passed him a bottle of lotion she had found by the sink.

“Moisturize me,” she said.

She was lying on her tum and he began with her shoulders. His large, strong hands gently rubbed the scented cream into her skin. She let out a moan. “That feels soooo good.”

Collin continued down her back and pushed up from her hips toward her shoulders in long, slow strokes.

Finally he worked his way around her bum, grabbing with his fingers and thumbs and spreading her ass cheeks apart so he could get a good look at her special spot in a slight variation from his performance the day before.

“Clean as a whistle,” he remarked, taking note of one of Lo’s most remarkable features.

“I used the pink grapefruit bodywash in the shower.”

Gettin’ a Dirty Girl Clean

“Looks it,” he said.

“Does it taste like grapefruit?” she asked.

He continued his exploration of her anatomy with his palms sliding down her thighs to her calves. He simply ignored her question.

His hands massaged around her ankles and then her feet. His thumbs pressed into the arch of her feet and he rubbed in sensual circles, bringing her close to climax.

Pink Grapefruit

Before she had another accident, she turned over and looked at Collin.

“Why don’t you get out of those pjs?” she asked, straining to see if he was hard.

To her great surprise, he agreed and soon he was as naked as she. But to her greater surprise, he was as flaccid as a well-cooked strand of spaghetti, though almost as long.

“Lo,” he said in a quiet tone, “there’s something I have to tell you.”

Lo’s eyes widened.

“About twenty years ago I was badly injured in a horse riding accident.”

“Oh no,” said Lo, even before hearing the details. She gave him space to explain.

“I was riding one of my prized stallions and I thought I had trained him a lot better than I did. He saw a shadow or a branch or something. Maybe he thought it was a snake. Maybe it was a snake. I don’t know. It was a long time ago and it happened fast. He reared up and threw me off.”

Lo covered her mouth as she gasped.

“The fall wasn’t that bad, but then he bucked and his rear hoof went right into my back. I had a serious injury to my thoracic spinal nerve 11, or T-11. For a long time I was in a wheelchair, which is why this room is on the first floor and is designed to be completely wheelchair accessible. I had a number of surgeries and eventually, after a lot of physical therapy, I was able to walk again. But, unfortunately,” he looked down, “I never recovered to full functioning.”

Lo looked at Collin’s lengthy, beautiful cock, longingly.

“Nothing?” she asked a little tactlessly.

“Nothing. Suzanne and I tried everything. For years. Surgeries, pills, pump. Nothing could get me hard or keep me hard.”

“No orgasm, I guess,” she asked, unable to conceal a tone of disappointment from her voice.

“Not in over twenty years.”

“Desire?”

“So much desire,” he said.

“What can I do for you?” asked Lo, always eager to please.

“Lo, your visit has been a godsend.”

“So you don’t want to finger me or have me suck you off or anything?”

“I actually just enjoy talking to you.”

“Naked?”

“Well, that makes it more interesting.”

“Can I?”

“Can you what?” he asked and then understood. “Oh, give it the ole college try?”

Lo nodded.

“See for yourself.”

Lo wasted no time. She got between his legs with her face and finally gave free reign to her pent-up desire. She licked, lapped, sucked, slurped, teased, touched, kissed, caressed, pressed, pulled, stroked, sloughed, and finally ceased, all to no avail. Not that it wasn’t fun for her, but it did not bring about her hoped for result.

Spent, she lay back and stroked herself, but, without instilling a similar arousal in her host, she quickly became bored of it.

“You’re a remarkable woman,” said Collin.

His words fell on deaf ears. Lo couldn’t help but feel let down by her mere humanity. She had hoped to perform a miracle. To raise Lazarus, to bring forth a baguette from a lump of dough, to at least fulfill some longed for fantasy.

In the end the two of them just sat together on the bed and they traded fabulous story for more outrageous tale.

A.O.L.

Posted on March 28, 2020 by Lola Down

[Continued from Fast, Wet, & Slippery]

After the long day at the lake and the suggestive movie, when Lo and Lily went to bed that night, Lo got up the guts to ask Lily, “What did you mean when you told me that lying out in the sun naked here is no different than being naked in front of your dad?”

Lily laughed a little and said, “You know we’re French, right?”

“You mean, like French French? I mean, born there?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Oh, I thought I mentioned it.”

“Well, you might have said in passing that your family is French, but I thought that was a few generations ago.”

“No, my dad and his brother Collin came here just before I was born, like twenty-three years ago or so.”

“But they have no accent!”

“Their parents were diplomats and they were raised half in America and half in France. But even in France, they went to the American School.”

“Oh.”

“And your mom?”

“My mom is from D.C. My dad met her when he was at the French Embassy here.”

“Oh.”

“So, in France we always vacation in the south and it’s pretty much all nude beaches there. That’s all I meant by that. Nothing kinky.”

“Oh, I see. And so Collin was just interested in Blue is the Warmest of Color because he’s French and it’s a French movie?”

“Probably,” she snickered. “That, and he’s a horny fuck.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“He is! Haven’t you noticed?”

“Well, he has been showing me a lot of attention.”

“A lot of attention?! Come on, Lo! You know that there’s something between you two.”

Lo blushed and admitted, “OK, I know he wants me, but what about your Aunt Suzanne? I mean, she’s got to know something’s up.”

“I think that they have an understanding,” she said with a knowing, mysterious smile.

“What makes you think that?”

“I have my ways,” said Lily, delighting in the unspoken.

“Do you think that Collin is trying to encourage you and me to play?”

Lily said nothing.

“Or me and Suzanne?”

Lily again said nothing.

“Come on Lily! You have to have some take on it. I mean, if you know that they have an understanding, you must have some idea what Collin’s up to with that porno film he showed us.”

“Lo! It wasn’t a porno film. It won tons of awards!”

“It was porn and he meant for us to view it that way.”

“It turned you on, didn’t it?”

“I’m not denying that,” said Lo, who was simultaneously and unconsciously playing with her pussy beneath the covers, “but paint drying turns me on. I want to know what Collin’s plan is? What’s he scheming?”

Lo leaned toward Lily, who was sitting on the bed not far from Lo, and Lo said in a whisper, “Or did you suggest the movie?”

“Meeeee?” squealed Lily, playing innocent. “I didn’t. Why? Do you want to seduce me?”

“Do you want me to seduce you? To finger you the way those two girls did?”

“Oh no,” said Lily, to Lo’s great disappointment.

“No?” repeated Lo in disbelief. She’s not used to being turned down.

“No fingering me. No. I’m A-O-L.”

“What?”

“Anal Only Lifestyle.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just what it says. I only do anal.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not.”

“I’ve never met anyone who only did anal. I mean, I’ve met lots of people who swear never to do anal, but not the other way around.”

“Well, I’m not only French, I’m also Catholic.”

Lo laughed. “What’s that have to do with anything?”

“A lot! You see, the Church teaches that sex before marriage is wrong.”

“You didn’t buy that B.S., did you?”

“I did! And before I was married, I tried to be a good girl.”

“But anal sex,” Lo began to say, putting the pieces together.

“Anal sex isn’t sex, and so, I was a good little anal slut in high school. I never had sex – according to the Church – but I had lots of loads up my ass. I grew to really like it. No, to love it. And so, even now, it’s only anal for me, even though I’m married.”

“Really?!” asked Lo in disbelief.

“I’m still, technically, a virgin.”

“How’s Jim feel about that?” asked Lo with deep curiosity.

“Oh, he’s such a romantic,” she said, almost dismissively. “He wants so badly to take my virginity. But I’ve held off.”

“Why?”

There was a long pause and the conversation turned serious as Lily pondered the simple question.

“I guess,” she began slowly, “I’m just afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid he might not like it or. . . maybe I won’t like it. You know how small he is.”

Lo knew very well.

“I guess I prefer that he just keep on banging my backdoor than take a chance on coming in the front.”

Anal Anime

Lola

Hallmark of a Happy Hotwife

Posted on March 19, 2020 by Lola Down

Lola helps her bf cum

Writing is a solitary act. Writing a sex blog is not. Almost by definition, writing a sex blog is an invitation for strangers to enter your bedroom and allow them easy access to, well, to your deepest, darkest, most mysterious parts of yourself.

“Are there pictures of you on your blog?” asked one fella who apparently got Lo’s email, but had not explored the website for himself yet.

Lo’s sarcastic and salacious response was, “Is there water in the ocean? Only one way to find out – dive in and get wet!”

After a couple sent us a photo of the two of them making love while simultaneously looking at Lo’s photos on the computer, she turned to me and said, “I guess I’m just a hopeless romantic. I love helping couples cum together.”

My Friend from NJ enjoying the stories about me.

A different fella sent Lo some sexy photos of himself hard for her and asked for some in return.

“If you keep it up, I promise you’ll get more,” she said, never shy of telling men to keep it up.

“What’s your name?” asked Lo of one admirer.

“Justin.”

“Oh, my man was ‘just in’ me!”

Her dad jokes are equal to her daddy issues.

“How are your book sales doing?” inquired a reader.

“Well, we have 5 books out. They sell fairly regularly, like 3-4 a week. The e-books do better – probably because a lot of married men don’t want some smut to show up on their doorstep for their wives to find. That’s my job.”

“What is?”

“To be some slut who shows up on their doorstep for their wives to find.”

“Which do you recommend, the e-book or the hard-copy?”

“I recommend you get it hard.”

“Do you like to get tribute pics?” asked one guy.

“Cum to me – big, small, sissy, straight – I like it all!”

One guy sent Lo a pic of himself getting off to her photos while his wife was sleeping naked in the bed next to him. She turned to me and said, “I love being the goto girl for married men. The only thing hotter than that is being the goto mutual masturbation material for couples.”

One morning, before Christmas, she posted a bunch of photos of her in a red dress, exposing her naked crotch.

“What are you up to?” I asked her naively.

“I’m just spreading the cheer,” she answered as she showed me the computer screen filled with her pussy pics.

“Do men just want to see your pussy?”

“No,” she said, “women do too.”

“I mean, are people only interested in that one part?”

She shot back, “They say that the whole is greater than the parts, but my hole isn’t greater than all my parts.”

“Let’s play a game,” I suggested.

“Oooo, what sort of game?”

“You spread your legs and I’ll pretend to be NASA and I’ll be the first to get a photograph of a black hole.”

“Funny, but no. Instead of photographing me, why don’t you bend me over the bed and fuck me?”

“I can’t, I have to get to work.”

“Just bend me over and fill me up.”

“It’s not a Quickie Mart. I’m not just gonna fill ’er up and grab a coffee.”

“Why not?”

I walked over to her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and spread them far apart. I touched her inner thigh.

“Are you mad at me, Daddy?” she asked in her little girl tone of voice, looking up at me.

“I want you to do what makes you happy.”

“Then I should be doing you. I wanted you last night,” she said.

“Yeah, well you didn’t say so.”

“You couldn’t tell from how I was stroking your cock?”

“You didn’t say you wanted me.”

“I didn’t know I had to use a magic formula, like ‘Open Sesame.’”

“I like to hear you say it.”

She grabbed my cock over my slacks as I stood at the side of the bed. She used her other hand to spread her pussy lips. “Get back in bed.”

“Why?”

“Cause I said so.”

“Why?”

“Cause.”

“What do you want?”

“Get back in bed and I’ll show you.”

I climbed back into the bed, still in my suit. “OK.”

She fondled me more. “Don’t you want me, Daddy?”

“I want to hear you articulate your needs.”

“Fuck me.”

Though it was a command and not a request, nonetheless, I pulled down my pants and got between her legs and said, “Open says me.”

“Oh, Daddy, you don’t have to say any magic formula for me. I’m always open.”

After she came, I got out of bed.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I have a lot of things to do. You were just first on the list.”

I went to work. It was her “work at home” day. Yeah, right.

When I returned, a little after one, for lunch, I found her in the same position I had left her: on the bed, computer open, legs open, fingers between her legs.

“I’m ready for lunch, Daddy,” she said. “Feed me.”

“What do you want?”

“Your meat.”

This was as close as a request as I was going to get. I got out of my suit this time and into bed next to her. I reached down between her legs.

“You’re sopping wet.”

“Maybe it’s because of my multiple orgasms.”

“What multiple orgasms?” I feigned shock.

“I jilled it this morning.”

“Without me?!” Again, faux-surprise.

“I got lonely.”

“Lonely or horny?”

“Both.”

“So you jilled it all morning?”

“Not all morning. It went into the afternoon.”

“And you still want me now?”

“Do you want me?” she asked, back to playing coy.

“Why don’t you just come out and ask for what you want?” I asked in exasperation.

“It’s as obvious as 2+2=4!”

“Then why don’t you just say ‘four’?”

“What do you think this is, golf?”

“I’m hoping for a hole in one.”

“Two in one hole would be better,” she said.

I was poised to penetrate her. She licked her fingers and put them down below to wriggle herself a bit. She moaned, “Oh yeah, that feels good.” Then, a little later, she moaned again, “I like that. Yes.” Followed by, “Mmmmm, deeper.”

I said to her, “Lo, I’m not even in you. I’m patiently waiting my turn to enter.”

“Just a little while longer,” she whispered, enchanted by her own ability to make love to herself.

After she came, I got out of bed.

“Where are you going?”

“To eat my lunch. That’s what I came home to do.”

“But what about me?” she whined.

“Darling, I’ve been at work while you’ve been home just sitting here twiddling your thumbs.”

“And diddling my bean!”

“Well, don’t let me interrupt your obviously packed calendar.”

“Don’t go!” she pleaded.

“If you want something, you need to learn to ask.”

“Get in the bed and fuck me.”

“See, you sound like a drill sergeant barking orders at privates.”

“I’ll bark at your privates alright.”

“That’s it, I’m going,” I said, actually pissed at her.

“Oh, don’t be mad Daddy.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to fight.”

“We’re not fighting.”

“We’re not?” she asked.

“No,” I said, “The friction point between your feelings and mine – that’s called a relationship.”

“Well, come over here and let me grease up that friction point.”

I returned to the bed and this time her hands were between her legs, but not to frig herself, but to pull her pussy lips apart, opening her doors wide to accept my piston.

I slid in with a slurping sound and she whispered, “It’s a well-oiled machine.”

It was so well lubricated that I unthinkingly commented, “It’s lost in there like a needle in a haystack!”

“Is it my fault that you’re like a needle?”

“That’s it,” I said, pulling out. “I’m going to go out for lunch.”

I walked out of the room and she threw a pillow at the door.

I popped back in and looked at her.

“Unarmed?” I asked.

Another pillow flew at me. I quickly shut the bedroom door, blocking her attempt.

Opening the door again, I asked, “So, do you want me?”

“Well, on the one hand, I do, but on the other hand, I’m still mad at you.”

“Which hand wants me? – use that one. . . on yourself.”

I left and she yelled out, “Fuck you!”

When I got home later that day, I found dinner on the table and Lola running up to me at the door, giving me a big, wet kiss on the lips.

I pulled back a little and looked at her in the skimpy outfit she was wearing.

“That’s a beautiful, sexy sundress,” I remarked.

“It’s not a sundress. It’s a shirt.”

“Well, it should be a sundress. What an ass! You look great in that sundress!”

“It’s not a sundress!”

“Let me take a picture of you.”

“No. But I think it’s cute that you want to.”

“You look so good. Let me take a few pics. . . for posterity’s sake.”

When I said that, she turned around, bent over, and proudly displayed to me her posterity.

“Lo,” I said, “I think I’m allergic to you.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because every time I get near your naked body my penis swells up. Why don’t we skip dinner and get right to dessert?”

“Oh, Daddy, this isn’t for you,” she said apologetically.

“What?”

“No, I’m expecting Robert for dinner.”

“Robert?! Seriously?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I should have told you.”

“When did these plans happen?”

“Well. . . um,” she was stalling.

“Lo.”

“After you left. I was mad at you, so I called him and invited him over for dinner.”

“Looks like you’re expecting him to eat more than the chicken breast you made,” I said, looking again at the sexy little number she was wearing.

“Would you like a plate?” she asked, offering a consolation prize.

“No,” I said. “I’m tired and I’m hungry. I’d like to change out of my suit, sit at the table, and be waited on hand-and-foot.”

“That still might happen,” she said. “The night is young.”

“And I’m old.”

“You can say that again.”

“And I’m old.”

“I wish I could turn back time to when you were in your thirties.”

“You weren’t even born then.”

“But Daddy,” she said, pressing her tits up against my chest, “I’ll save my sinning for you. I’ll be a good girl, but I’ll be ready to be bad with you. You’re my sexual rebellion, my slut revolution, my love liberation.”

I looked longingly at the warm meal, meticulously laid out on the table.

Lo turned my head so I was looking back at her.

“I liked the picture you texted me,” I said, referring to a naughty text she had sent me while I was at work.

“Did you jack off to it at work?”

“No!”

“Well why not? You weren’t the only one I sent it to, you know. A lot of other guys did jack off to it at work. I’m beginning to think you don’t love me as much as they do.”

“Because I don’t jack off to you at work?”

“Precisely.”

“But I can fuck you at home.”

“It’s not the same.”

Just then the doorbell rang. Robert was at the door.

“Can we continue this conversation later, Daddy?” she asked.

“Where would you like me to go while you and your date have dinner?” I asked, defeated.

“Why don’t you get yourself a nice meal at your favorite restaurant and I’ll call you when we’re done?”

“Not longer than an hour?”

“Definitely not longer than two, promise.”

I let Robert in and, after a brief hello, I said I was just on my way out. “Enjoy your meal,” I said very sarcastically.

Two and a half hours, one meal, two beers, and an old fashioned later, my phone finally signaled a text from Lo: “Cum to me.”

I walked in and found her naked sitting at the dining room table. No Robert.

She was looking at her computer and showed me some photos.

One guy typed, “Got any more naughty pics?”

“If that’s not enough for you, then just google ‘mysexlifewithlola.’ You’ll get more pics than you can shake a stick at.”

“That’s funny,” she said to me.

“Shake a stick at?”

“Yeah.”

“Very droll, dear,” I said as I stood next to her. “How was your dinner date?”

She didn’t answer my question. She just undid the button of my pants and slithered me out of them.

She sat me down in the chair and positioned her body over me. She clearly wanted me to fuck her. But I wanted her to ask. She said, “You have to learn to intuit. Intuit! Intuit!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get into it!” I said as she spread her legs over my lap and pressed her tits into my face. Cum, Robert’s cum, slowly slid out of her spread pussy lips and dripped onto my hard cock.

She lowered herself down on me and I entered her slowly, like the filter of a French Press plunging intently into the warm, wet cannister.

A breathy moan.

She kissed me and after, she lifted herself up, turned around, and slid down, her back toward me.

She began typing on her computer as she rhythmically rode my pole.

“Lo, are you ever going to get off that machine?”
“I told you, Daddy, it’s my work from home day.”

“Well, I think you need to take a break.”

“I’ll get off of it, just as soon as I get off from it.”

“Can’t I get you off, vaginally, not virtually, you know, like in the old days?”

“It enhances the experience.”

I looked over her shoulder and saw that she sent to a guy a photo of herself with a little space for a caption to be written about her.

She typed, “Why don’t you fill in the blank.”

“I thought that was my job,” I said, meaning both filling up her cunt and my job as a writer.

She noticed my presence again when I said that and she let me look over her shoulder as she clicked on a picture of a guy holding up his phone with Lo’s photo on it while he fucked his wife. “I love that he’s is thinking of me while he is fucking her.”

“Such a sincere sentiment. It should go in a Hallmark card.”

“That’s brilliant!” she shouted, turning around to look at me.

“What is?”

“A line of Lola greeting cards.”

“Perhaps you could create them. I think you could use another hobby to focus all your creative juices.”

And at that, she lifted up just enough to release her climactic juices on me.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy!”

“It’s quite alright. Maybe one of these days we’ll get around to my orgasm. Or should I just go on-line and pose as one of your admirers?”

“I’m sorry!” she said again.

“It’s ok. I guess women can also have premature ejaculation.”

“It was hardly premature,” she said.

She began stroking my cock, now extremely lubricated by her and Robert’s emollient, as she told me that Robert went at her like never before. Her theory was that he liked being waited on hand-and-foot.

“And how was your dinner, Daddy,” she asked, as she continued to jack me off.

I couldn’t answer. I was too busy imagining her with Robert.

“Did you get a good meal? Did it fill you up? I was so full up,” she said.

I was speechless.

“Were you thinking of me, Daddy? Did you think about how he got his rocks off to me? Did you think about how we fucked in the dining room, right here, where you are now?”

“Did you show him your internet admirers too?”

“No, Daddy. We just fucked. He bent me over the table and fucked me. Then he turned me over and spread my legs and fucked me as I sat on the edge of the table. The windows were open and he fucked me hard as I screamed at the top of my lungs. I’m sure the neighbors saw, or at least heard it all. Then he grabbed my ankles and lifted them up high and pulled out of my pussy and slid into my ass. Back and forth, back and forth he went, filling one hole and then another. He asked where I wanted him to cum and I didn’t care. I told him I didn’t want him to cum yet. Fuck me! Fuck my holes! I said, but he came and came deep in me. He collapsed on the chair where you’re sitting now and I slid off the table and got on my knees, like I am now, and covered his cock with my mouth to lick him clean until he couldn’t handle it anymore. Then he put his clothes on and left, leaving me naked at the table.”

She saw that I was finally ready to explode and she dropped her dirty mouth down on to my dick, just like she described with Robert, and coaxed me to cum. And cum I did, forcefully and voluminously. So much that it came out of her nose. She was a hot mess, literally, when I was done.

“There you go,” I said, “the hallmark of a happy hotwife.” I chuckled to myself when I reflected that the original meaning of “hallmark” was “a sign of purity.”

Lola’s Christmas Card

Quiver

Posted on December 15, 2019 by Lola Down

[Continued from “Black Friday: A Juicy Story Before Brunch”

The day after Thanksgiving. Black Friday. Miami Beach. Lo was on a mission. This was our third day in Miami. Seventy-two hours of glorious sunny days, short-shorts, and sex. And, in typical Lo fashion, she wanted more of all three.

“What’s for breakfast?” I asked.

“I thought we were having sex,” she said as she sat on the side of the bed wearing only her sexy tank-top T-shirt and spreading her legs.

“Sex for breakfast?”

“Yeah, we’ll call it ‘Sex-fest.’”

“But Lo, you just came twice.”

“That was all external stimulation. It just makes me more hungry.”

“Hungry for breakfast?” I asked, since I was starving.

“No, hungry for your cock in my cunt.”

“It’s not even 9 a.m. and you’re using that sort of language?!”

“It’s never too early to speak a Romance Language.”

“You forget, I was in the Romance Languages department at my college. They didn’t speak like that.”

“Illiterate.”

“We could discuss the nuances of philology all morning, but. . .”

“But I want you to fuck me. Please. Just a quick in-and-out is all I need.”

“Fine,” I said and I puled my shorts down around my knees.

The hotel room bed was only a full; much smaller than we were used to. I said to her, “There better be a spot for me in that bed cause I’m getting in it.”

“Oh, I’ve got a spot for you and you definitely are going to get in it.”

She turned over and scrunched up her body into a little ball on the bed, exposing her puss and ass to me.

“Just go right in,” she said over her shoulder, as if I needed some instructions.

“Top or bottom?” I asked.

“Top or bottom?” she was confused.

“Yeah, which hole?”

“Which do you want?” she asked seductively, surprising me.

“Top!” I said without hesitation.

“Well, fill the bottom first and, if you’re good, you can have the top.”

Lola & HH

Standing by the side of the bed, I slid in with ease and she moaned. She was drenched and dripping. “Stay. Right. There,” she commanded. I didn’t even move. I just grabbed her by her hips and lifted her a little then pushed her down a little. Up and down, up and down I slid her on my cock. My thumb moved its way to her top hole to press against it. Within seconds her cunt was gushing and clenching. I pulled her in closer by her hips to make sure I stayed in place; the tip of my cock up against her g-spot. She didn’t even scream. She just bit her lower lip and moaned. I could see her facial expressions and contortions in the mirror. In a few more seconds she pulled forward and, as I slid out of her, she squirted. I was careful to jump back and avoid getting splashed.

“Ahhhh,” she said, “that did the trick.”

She was splayed out on the bed now, breathing heavily. I stood next to the bed.

“This isn’t a coat rack,” I said of my erect phallus.

“What?” she asked, perplexed.

“You promised me the top hole, remember?”

“Oh, right!”

She scrunched up into her little ball again, wiggling her ass in front of me. “Can you hit the target?” she teased.

“Stay still and my arrow will fill your quiver.”

I grabbed her hips again and pressed the full head of my cock up against her sphincter. Her flower bud opened. Slowly I filled her. I could see her hands out in front of her clutching the bed sheets as she felt the pain and pleasure of my deep dive.

Again she commanded, “Stay. Right. There.” Her ass clenched down on me and her body turned the noun, “quiver,” into a verb.

Suddenly she lunged forward, just like she did before, leaving me hard up, standing by the side of the bed a second time as she caught her breath.

Turning her head over her shoulder, she said, “Amazing, Daddio!”

Then, noticing me pulling up my shorts, she said, “Aren’t you going to cum?”

“Darling, thirty seconds of standing behind you, rigid as a statue, while you got your rocks off was exclusively for your pleasure.”

“But I want you to cum.” She turned around, on all fours, facing me, or rather, my crotch. She looked up at me and asked, “Don’t you know what Cyndi Lauper says?”

“Cyndi Lauper?! You’re dating yourself dear.”

“Oh, I wish I could date myself. I’d be such a good fuck.”

“You’re getting distracted again. What does Cyndi Lauper say?”

“Oh, right. She sings, ‘Girls just wanna have cum. That’s all they really want – some cum.’” She sang the lyrics.

Girls Just Wanna Have Cum

“I think you might be taking some poetic license with that.”

“Whatever. Cum in my mouth,” she commanded as she took my cock into her open mouth and slobbered over it with her tongue.

“And spoil your appetite?” I asked, enjoying the sensation and the thought of what a dirty, slutty girl she is.

“It’s more of an appetizer.”

“No,” I said flatly, pulling out of her mouth.

She pouted.

“I’m starving,” I said. “If I don’t eat soon, I’m going to waste away.”

She rolled her eyes sarcastically – as if I was in any mortal danger of wasting away.

“What?” I asked. “Look at me,” I said, striking a pose, flexing my biceps, “One hundred seventy-five pounds of pure muscle!”

“One hundred and seventy-five?!” Lo exclaimed in disbelief, “Aren’t you a few pounds off there?”

“No. It is a hundred and seventy-five pounds of muscle. The other thirty pounds might be fat, but under it is the pure muscle.”

“Still a little shy of the mark, I think.”

“Well, the other ten pounds is brain, of course.”

“Of course,” she said sardonically.

I stepped on the scale and cursed it saying, “You lying sack of shit!”

Lo, naked but for her T-shirt, stepped on the scale after me and said, “It better not be lying, it says I lost two pounds!”

“It lies.”

“Does it? Or could it be that my diet and exercise and drinking plenty of liquids has caused me to lose two pounds?”

“It lies.”

“Why would it lie to me that I lost two pounds and lie to you that you. . . well, uh, you’re. . . ?”

“Because it likes the view it has of you from down there.”

She laughed. She almost never laughs at my jokes, but I suppose this one also appealed to her vanity. I love it when she laughs.

“Do you like the view?” she asked, bending over and looking at me from between her knees.

“I don’t know why they call it mooning when it looks as bright and pink as the sunrise to me,” I said. “But as pretty as you are, morning glory, can we please go get breakfast?”

“Sure,” she said as she slipped into her bikini bottoms. “How do these look?”

It was a very skimpy pink thong bikini bottom that she purposely pulled up extra tight.

I gave her a cat-call whistle and launched into a sing-song limerick:

Do your labia hang low?
Do they wobble to and fro?
Can you tie ’em in a knot?
Can you tie ’em in a bow?
Can you throw ’em o’er your shoulder
Like a continental soldier?
Do your labia hang low?

“What?!” she asked, looking down between her legs.

“Look in the mirror,” I gestured.

She took a look and could see what I saw: her puffy pussy lips straddling the skinny g-string. She’s very self-conscious of her large labia.

“Ah, fiddle-dee-dee,” she said, dismissing my concern. She walked up to me and, seeing that I had pitched a tent in my shorts, she sang back:

Does your cock stand high?
Does it reach up to the sky?
Does it droop when it’s wet?
Does it stiffen when it’s dry?
Can you wave it at your neighbor
With an element of flavor?
Does your dick stand high?

“Touché,” I said.

“Tushie?” she asked, turning around and showing me her bottom again.

I smacked it hard and said, “That’s for being tardy.”

We finally got in the rental car and I let Lo drive. Lo being Lo, she blasted the radio and “I’m Real” by Ja Rule happened to be on, pounding the bass of the speakers to the chorus:

-Cause I’m real-
The way you walk
The way you move
The way you talk
-Cause I’m real-
The way you stare
The way you look
Your style your hair
-Cause I’m real-
The way you smile
The way you smell
It drives me wild
-Cause I’m real-
And I can’t go on without you

Lo was contentedly squirming in her leather bucket seat to the beat of the music.

“Can you shut that damn music off?!” I complained.

“You know, you sound like an old man when you say that.”

“You know, I am an old man.”

“Oh, I know. It’s just sad to think about.”

“Well, if you want to break up with me, go right ahead.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“No. You said that it’s ‘sad’ to think about me being an old man.”

“It is! I mean, I’m not even at the great hump of my life yet.”

“I thought I was the great hump of your life.”

“I should hope not.”

“What?!”

“What I mean is, I’m not over the hill yet.”

“I should hope not.”

“What does that mean?”

“It simply means, that at twenty-something, you still have some great humps to look forward to.”

“And you don’t?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m looking forward to humping you in about five minutes.”

“Why so long?”

“So long? Is five minutes too much to wait for you youngins these days?”

“Five minutes is like two and a half news cycles.”

“Well, here’s some breaking news: the best is yet to come.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Why’s that?”

“Cause I love cumming.” She pulled up to the curb. “Here we are. Where are you going to fuck me?”

“Well, I need nourishment first. Let’s eat,” I said as we got out of the convertible and went to the hostess stand on the sidewalk. We were seated at a quaint table outside with a view of Ocean Boulevard and the beach across the street. Pretty people were walking by and fancy cars were cruising slowly to see and be seen.

A tricked-out car drove by – shiny, sparkly, loud. Lo was clearly impressed.

She observed it closely and then commented, “The exhaust is merely cosmetic.”

“Just like yours!” I quipped.

She gave me a look of faux shock.

A musclebound fella walked by in a tiny speedo and a loose fitting tank-top.

“Lo, stop drooling. Or at least use a napkin.”

“What?! He’s a very beefy boy. . . and I’m a beefeater,” she said, taking a slow, seductive bite of her sausage.

After breakfast, we walked down the strip and Lo was window shopping, until she was actually shopping. I sat outside sipping my frozen drink. When she came back out, she gave me a t-shirt like the one worn by Mr. Muscles.

“I didn’t know whether to get you a large or an extra large,” she said.

“You should always get me grandiose.”

“To match your ego?”

We walked down to the beach and Lo pulled out of her oversized bag a sheet she stole from the hotel. She spread it out on the sand and then spread herself on top of it. I sat down next to her and began rubbing in the sunscreen on her shoulders. When I was done I said, “I’ll draw on your back with my finger and you tell me what I’m spelling.”

“OK. But where’s the top?”

“Here,” I said, as I scribbled up by her shoulder blades.

“Hey! What are you doing?” she asked as my finger went down between her butt cheeks.

“I’m just seeing where the bottom is. Oh! Look at that. I think I found the ink well.”

“Yeah?! You’re gonna have a broken nub if you keep it up!”

After a bit, she pulled out the deck of cards from her bag and began shuffling them.

“What are you playing?”

“Strip Solitaire.”

“Are you winning or losing?”

“I’ll take off my top and you tell me.”

I scanned the beach to see if any other women were going topless.

“Hey!” she said, “I’m over here!!!”

She thought she saw me looking at some of the other sexy women on the strand.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, teasing her. “So I like looking at them. They’re like boats: I like how they look, but I don’t want to have one.”

“Oh yeah? Like boats? You better watch out that I don’t wash them away with my tsunami.”

“Are you squirting again? I didn’t even see you touch your puss.”

“I don’t need to with all this eye-candy.”

“Oh, so it’s ok for you to look, but not me?”

“Exactly. Next pair of sunglasses I buy you will be blinders.”

With that comment, she left her card game and sauntered into the water. Just at the water’s edge, she turned back to me and called, “Daddio! Aren’t you coming?”

“Not yet,” I called back, “but I will be.”

“What?!” she called.

“I’m not coming!”

She yelled back, “I’ll fix that!” She then turned tail and bent over, revealing her shoelace thin thong. She feigned finding a seashell, but she was just showing off. She eventually walked in the water, sticking out her tongue at me over her shoulder as the waves crested and fell over her hips. Then she dove in.

When she returned from the cool dip, she asked, “What do you think of my hair?” as it dripped from its curls down her breasts.

“You look just like Medusa.”

“That’s not a compliment. Wasn’t she so ugly that she turned anyone who looked at her to stone?”

“No no no, that’s not it. What the Greeks meant was any man who saw her got hard as a rock and that’s how I feel about you and your wild, curly hair.”

“Nice save,” she said with a smile as she laid down next to me, getting me all wet.

I had just got comfortable and was engrossed in the book I was reading, The Postmodern Condition, you know, your typical beach read, when she said, “Let’s go for a walk Daddy.”

“What? Now?”

“Yes, Daddio. I want to go find something nice.”

“To wear?”

“To fuck.”

“I’m still available, you know.”

“Available? No you’re not. You’re taken.”

“I’d never know it.”

“You had me this morning.”

“For thirty seconds to help you get your rocks off.”

“So, what the hell are you complaining about?”

“I’d like to get my rocks off.”

“Oh, are your rocks aching?”

“Yes. Yes they are.”

“Follow me. Let’s see if we can do something about that.”

We went for a walk through the dunes to a little wooded park, verdant with scrub pines, palms, and colorful flowers. When we found a little bench, she said to me, “OK, you go over there and just watch.”

“What am I watching for?”

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

I sat diagonally from her, about thirty feet away. I watched as she sat there looking pretty. Guys walked by, mostly couples. But then one muscular black man in a skimpy bathing suit, bulging out of the itty-bitty stretchy material, stopped and asked her a question. She looked up, batting her eyelashes at him, smiling, licking her teeth with her tongue as she looked down, furtively, at his crotch. They began chatting. And then, within not so very long they got up and walked out of sight.

About a half-hour later Lo returned to the spot where I waited for her.

She approached me slowly, with a look of wily satisfaction and mystery about her.

“You can have me now, Daddy. He’s all done.” I noticed jizz covering her clavicle. She grabbed my hand and walked me to the secluded spot where she had just been with the tall, dark stranger.

“Lo,” I said, “What do you mean he’s all done?”

“Well,” she said, “do you want me to act out exactly what we did?”

“Sure.”

She laid down on the bench and began stroking her pussy over her short shorts while I stood over her and looked at her.

“Well, Daddio?”

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to take out your cock and stroke it? That’s what he did.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did you do?”

“What do you think? What should a good girl do when she goes to the park and begins masturbating over her shorts and a tall, dark, hung stranger appears pantless ready to fuck?”

“Did you get his digits?”

“All of them.”

“All of them?”

“Yeah, all of them, inside me.”

“Right here?”

“Right here.”

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, confused.

“To a bar. I need a drink.”

Truth was, it was hot. I was thirsty. I was tense. I was irritated. I was horny. And I wasn’t about to start fucking Lola right there in the barely concealed patch of public privacy.

“Wait!” she said. “I have to change first.” She spread her legs and showed me the dark spot covering the crotch of her denim shorts where she apparently squirted.

She popped into the public restroom and a moment later, she popped out wearing just her bikini top and a short skirt.

“Wow!” I said. “You’re like a superhero!”

“Super Squirt!” she pronounced, swinging her shorts around her finger, grabbing me by my arm.

We went to a fancy hotel with a rooftop deck, pool, and bar. This was a new hotel and the rooftop was pretty high up there and it even had a balcony with a glass floor.

Lo walked out and leaned over the railing and said, “Wow! Don’t look down!”

“I’m not,” I said, “I’m lookin’ up – lookin’ up your skirt, that is.” No panties. No bikini thong. Nothing. Just her perfectly shapely and shaved mons pubis.

We then went and sat at the bar where I ordered a Tom Collins. Lo apologized to the bartender for my unfashionable taste in drinks, saying, “I’m sorry, he’s old.”

The bartender chuckled.

For the middle of the day, on a beautiful beach day, the bar was pretty busy. But, I guess for the people who live down there, going to the beach every day loses its allure pretty quickly.

Lo asked me, “You want to see what I saw on the bench?”

“Sure,” I said, not knowing where she was going with this.

She pulled out her phone and pulled up a photo of her with her legs spread and a guy with an elephant trunk hanging down from his crotch standing over her.

The old pervert seated next to Lo at the bar – not me, the guy on the other side of her – looked over Lo’s shoulder out of curiosity.

“Nice shot,” he said.

“Not nearly as nice as when he came on me,” retorted Lo without missing a beat.

“Is that so?” asked Mr. Intrusive.

“Yes, that’s so,” said Lo, followed by, “Oh, how rude of me. HH, this is,” she said, as if introducing an old friend.

“Kip,” he said.

“Kip,” said Lo. “Kip, HH,” she said, introducing us.

I shook his hand over Lo’s lap and said, “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure,” he said.

He clearly had had a few already. He wore a festive Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts, sandals. I’d say he was about 46 and beginning to bald. A bit overweight. Genial smile and friendly – midwestern friendly. Too friendly, you might say.

Lo was in a festive, flirty mood and so she teased and toyed with this guy, telling both him and me what happened with her mystery man down by the beach.

“How very slutty of you,” he said.

“I thought so,” replied Lo proudly.

The guy asked, “Will you be my slut?”

“I’m everyone’s slut. That’s what being a slut is.”

“I don’t know if you could handle me,” said the guy.

“Why not?” asked Lo, defiantly.

“My cock – it’s pretty big and has a lot of girth,” he said.

Lola pulled out her phone and found a photo of her horse cock dildo. “This is one of my toys,” she said. “I can handle any cock. Any human cock, that is.”

The guy was trying to play it cool, but I could see he was intrigued by Lo’s unabashed candor.

What about Lo? She was flirting and teasing, but was she actually into him? I couldn’t tell.

We had a few more drinks and continued chatting. The fella next to us was married, had adult children, older than Lo, and claimed to be in Miami on business. But it was Thanksgiving weekend. Who is in Miami on business?

Lola was waxing rhapsodic about how much she loved Miami – the ocean, the beaches, the restaurants.

The guy interjected, “The orgasms on the boardwalk.”

Lo squirmed in her barstool and pressed her knees together.

She looked at me, embarrassed. I knew what happened.

I said, “You could say, she cums with the territory,” as I feigned spilling my water.

“That’s the worst pun you ever made,” said Lo as she watched me clean up the mess she made under her stool from her perch.

“Really? I’m sure I’ve made worse,” I said, looking up at her, hoping she wouldn’t have another accidental squirting orgasm.

“I’m sorry,” Lo apologized to our new friend, “Dad jokes.”

“I’m a dad,” he said, “no need to apologize.”

Along one side of the pool there were semi-private alcoves with recliners made for two. Lo ordered another drink and suggested we take the one that was recently vacated before someone else got it. She picked up her bag and casually sauntered to her destination.

Mr. Middleage followed her, leaving me to grab (and pay for) our last round.

When I got to the little cabana, Lo was lying down with her Mr. Marriedman next to her. I handed Lo her drink and said I was going for a swim. Her antics were beginning to upset me, if I’m honest.

I got in the warm water and rested up against the side of the pool with my drink in hand, watching Lo and her beau.

She lay with her legs crossed under her skirt. She removed her bikini top. The guy ogled her. They were making small talk. I could practically read Lo’s lovely lips when she said, “That’s ok, you can touch.”

The guy put his hand on Lo’s hip and slowly caressed her. Lo turned over and he put his hand down under her skirt and I could see him touch her bum as she took a sip from her straw.

She rolled on her side, showing him her tits and letting her skirt open in front. She said, “You like what you see?”

He said something I couldn’t make out.

“Are you hard?”

Again, I couldn’t make out the words.

“Jack it,” she commanded.

He pulled a towel over his cargo shorts and reached down. Lo watched him intently.

She loves being the stimulant for sexually starving strangers, the sweet release for men and women who need a focus for their swirling smut-dreams like a mantra for meditation.

She was speaking softly to him, encouraging him, telling him dirty things about her, probably telling him about how she sucked my cock after letting me have her ass that morning.

His head dropped back and he became rigid for a few seconds before crumpling like a suit having all its starch sucked out in one magic moment.

Lo got up and came into the pool. Her skirt billowed behind her in the water. She swam to me and said, “Let’s go, Daddio.”

“Mission accomplished?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. My mission is to make you cum like that,” she said as she grabbed my cock under the water.

We got out and Lo put her top on, and we walked out, both dripping wet, but she in more ways than one.

She blew a good-bye kiss to the man with the mess in his cargo.

Back at the hotel, Lo could hardly wait.

“Did you like everything today, Daddy?” she asked as she lay naked on the bed.

“Most of it,” I said, thinking it over.

“Let’s take a shower,” she said, just as I got out of my clothes and was very ready and eager to have her.

“What? Now?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I got sand in my hoo-ha.”

“What did you say?”

“You know, I’m not interested in any pearls in the ole clam.”

“Only you, darling, only you,” I said, amused at her pornographic poetry.

The shower had a small seat built into the back wall of it. She sat on it, spread her legs, looked up at me, and said, “Was I a very bad girl today, Daddy?”

“Yes, yes you were.”

“Was I a dirty little slut?”

“Very much so.”

“Are you mad that I let a man cum on me in public?”

“No, darling.”

“Are you mad that I walked around with his cum on my body all day?”

“Proud of your accomplishment?”

“Oh yeah,” she said.

“Am I terribly disgusting?” she asked.

“Not to me,” I said. I can’t lie.

“Show me, Daddy, that I’m yours,” she said.

I wasn’t sure what she was after.

She reached out and grabbed my cock and held it in her hand.

“You drank a lot at the bar,” she said.

“Not too much. A few drinks.”

“Have you peed even once today, Daddy?”

Now I knew where she was going.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” she said, a certain neediness in her voice.

I closed my eyes, relaxed, and let go.

She shook her tits and spread her legs wide as I drenched her in the warm stream from her chin down to her twat.

“That’s right, Daddy,” she said, “I’m such a slutty, cum-hungry, whore.”

I looked down at her, dripping wet, and said, “Ah, the Fountain of Youth!”

When I was done, we turned on the warm water and took turns washing and worshipping each other.

When we finally got in bed she said, “Use me, Daddy. Use me however you want. Treat me like your little fuck-doll.”

I had her on the bed just like I did in the morning. I slid in her puss only briefly and then went back to her other hole, filling her from tip to balls.

“Mmmmm, yes. Hold me down. I like that. Slap my ass. Slap my puss. Slap me. Hold me down. Hurt me. Make it hurt! Make me yours again, Daddy. I’ve been so bad today. I just want to be yours. Yours. Make me stop whoring around town. Make me good again. Make me so sore I can’t even walk. Make me stop searching for cock. Make me good again.” She went on like that the entire time I fucked her until I was nearly ready to cum – finally after a full day of teasing and edging, watching her degrade herself for me and for others, in private and in public. Finally, I was ready to explode with all that pent-up jealousy, desire, rage, ravage, revenge, lust, love, and “Lo!” I called out as I was about to erupt.

She quickly hopped off my rod and spun around, opening her mouth wide and accepting the offering I emitted like a parched nomad in the desert desirous of every last drop of life-giving liquid. She wrapped her mouth around my cock and sucked, encouraging me to continue cumming until I could stand no more.

I fell down on the bed next to her and immediately lost consciousness, falling into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Thank You Daddy

Schrödinger’s Pussy

Posted on November 14, 2019 by Lola Down

“Lily texted me,” I texted to Lola, “and she invited me to meet her at the bar to watch the World Series.” It was the seventh game. She was hoping to see her team win. “Do you want to join?”

“Will Jim be there?”

“I don’t know.”

“Nah,” Lola texted, “I’ll stay in.”

I walked into the crowded watering hole after a long day at work. Lily, was sitting at the bar, close to the TV. To my surprise, she had saved me a stool next to her. She gave me a hug and turned toward me. Despite the cold October air, she was wearing only a short skirt and a thin, loose fitting blouse. Her legs were spread a bit as she talked to me.

“Where’s Jim?” I inquired.

“He’s with some of his friends watching at their house.”

“You didn’t want to join them?”

I could see that she hadn’t invited me there just to watch the game. She was already on her second drink of the night. What was on her mind?

After just a little prodding (it didn’t take much), she revealed her true design. She was looking for some free legal advice and simultaneously looking for some special attention.

She had recently graduated and got her Master’s in Sexuality and Gender Studies. Now she was looking to do something with that degree and was interested in becoming a “Sex and Spirit Guide” to individuals and couples. The question on her mind was, “If my therapeutic techniques involve hands-on help and I accept money for it, what’s the legal distinction between that and prostitution?”

It was a real zinger of a query – one that they don’t ask you in law school! And my first inclination was to say, “I’m not sure I follow. Could we please go back to your place and you can provide me with a demonstration in order that I understand what you do a little better?” But I wisely withheld that request, which was purely for the academic purpose of gaining clarity, and I asked instead, “So you envision digitally manipulating and stimulating your clients?”

“Well, not only that, but possibly role-playing, BDSM experimenting, discovering their inhibitions through play therapy – you know, taking them on a real sexual and spiritual journey to the seat of their soul.”

“Wow!” I said, “It sounds very Jungian.” Once more the images of Sabina Spielrein and Carl Jung came to mind.

“Yeah, this morning I had a professional photographer come to take some risqué photos to advertise my services.”

I got lost in my imagination as I envisioned the scene, but she continued. “And Jim even joined for some of them.”

“Oooh,” I cooed, “Boudoir photos?”

“Some were,” she replied alluringly. She began to pull out her phone as if ready to show me the raw, unedited shots. I wanted to look. I wanted to tell her all about the blog. I wanted to divulge everything. But I knew better. First, it’s Lo’s secret to reveal, not mine. That has always been the rule. Second, I’ve learned that letting on to the blog to people who are in the blog creates a Schrödinger’s Pussy situation – where the knowledge of being observed contaminates the observation.

Again I got lost in my thoughts.

She was clearly trying to attract my attention. She regained it as she unlocked her phone. I fumbled for my words a bit and said something stupid like the answer to her legal question would take some research. “A deep dive,” I remember saying.

“If you could advise me,” she said, playing the role of the helpless dancer in need of a savior, “I’d appreciate it so much. I want to heal people, not get arrested.”

Her allusion to consequences kept me in check and I soon paid my tab and said a friendly farewell to her, looking forward to going home to my sweet slutwife.

I got in late. I found Lola in bed, almost asleep, Stoya on my pillow.

“What’s this?” I asked. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said. “Come to bed. I’ll explain.”

I removed my clothes, washed up, and got in bed. She was on the verge of sleep. I moved Stoya to the nightstand.

“I’m all ears. . . and a penis,” I said.

She rolled over toward me. “I was bad,” she began. I could have figured that. “I was thinking of Heather and Erin and all the other women I’ve been with. I was feeling like being with a woman tonight.”

“So you took out Stoya?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“I tried a little experiment,” she said.

“Schrödinger’s Pussy,” I muttered under my breath, recalling my conversation of earlier in the evening.

“What?”

“Nothing. Continue.”

“I fingered myself a bit, rubbed some of my girly juice on her lips, fingering her, and put her over my clit. I fucked her pussy with my clit.”

“Did you cum?”

“Many times. It really does feel pretty realistic.”

She hugged me and asked, “Are you mad?”

“No. But I take it you didn’t wash her properly when done.”

“Sorry Daddy.”

I got out of bed and performed the recommended cleaning to Stoya’s pussy and then hung her out to airdry.

When I got back into bed, Lo was sound asleep on her tum. I was on my back. My right hand caressed her back. Then her lower back. Then the roundness of her rump. Then between her legs. I could feel how wet she was still. My fingers circled around her pussy, becoming soaked. I then slid one finger back and did circles around her other special spot. Slowly, gently, furtively, I dipped in, just a bit. No response. Then a bit more. Lo’s ass raised slightly. A little more. She either consciously or unconsciously elevated her hips. She looked like an inchworm as my finger wormed its way into her bum.*

Then a moan. Then a sigh. Then a “Daddy, what are you doing?”

“Nothing, Lo. Sleep.”

I was in up to my first knuckle. I went deeper. And deeper. And then added a finger. Her ass indicated it liked what it was getting. It was completely relaxed and open to exploration.

And then, without warning, it seized up on my fingers. It clenched like a vice and I heard Lo’s breathing accelerate. After only a few seconds it was over. I pulled my fingers out. She was back to sleep. I was hard-up.

“There’s always Stoya,” I thought.

* See the story, “Sin-esthesia” in which Lo gives her “blanket consent” to being fucked while asleep.

Absolution

Posted on October 29, 2019 by Lola Down

[Continued from “Holding on Comes Easy“]

Last I remembered, Lo had engaged in a lengthy session of self-service before falling asleep between Robert and me. When I woke in the morning, she was sound asleep, her back toward me, and Robert had his hands around her waist. I was turned toward them, my arm drooped over her side, my hand fondling her breast, and my cock rigid and eager for more attention.

I carefully extricated myself from the bed, found a robe and quietly went to the kitchen to make some coffee.

As I sat down to take my first sip, Lo suddenly appeared in the kitchen wearing one of Roberts t-shirts and nothing else. She was carrying a bundle of clothes.

“Here,” she said, passing the clothes off to me.

“And a good morning to you too,” I said sarcastically.

“Get dressed.” They were my clothes.

“What?”

“Get dressed. You have to get out of here.”

I was perplexed. “What do you mean I. . .”

“Imogen is still sleeping. When she wakes up, she can’t find you here. Remember, she thinks I’m Robert’s girlfriend and you’re just Robert’s friend. You have to go home.”

“Are we still putting on that little ruse?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, if that’s the case, why don’t I just crawl into bed with Imogen?”

Lo gave me an angry look.

“Ok, Ok,” I said. “I’ll get dressed and go.”

She gave me a quick peck on the cheek to show her appreciation. “Don’t worry, Daddy,” she said, “I will make it up to you.”

My cock must have liked her tone because it immediately popped up like a little puppy who just heard the treats bag open.

“Nope, none of that now,” said Lo curtly, before turning tail and returning to the bedroom with Robert.

I dutifully got dressed and went home to shower, have more coffee, and nurse my hangover.

Sometime later I got a call from Lo. She sounded out of breath.

“Lo?”

Pause. “Yeah?”

“Are you ok?”

Pause. “Yeah.”

“Are you at Robert’s?”

Pause. “Yeah.”

“Are you fucking?”

“Yes, Daddy, he’s behind me, fucking my ass now. What would you like us to do next?”

I won’t deny that I was titillated by the call, but I was also furious. I was home, hard-up and hungover, while she was being banged by her backdoor man.

“I want you to tell me you love me.”

Long pause. “I – I – I love you, Daddy,” I heard.

I put the phone down for a moment and hurriedly grabbed my Stoya Fleshlight, some lube, and picked up the phone again. Lo was screaming. I could hear Robert smacking her ass.

“Daddy, I love you,” she repeated.

I slid the prosthetic vagina down on my cock. I held the phone with my left hand and slid the contraption up and down with my right. I listened to Lo getting fucked. She was calling out, “Harder. Harder. Deeper. Cum in my ass. Cum deep in my ass.” As she was saying that, I thought of how Robert came in her mouth after fucking her ass yesterday.

“Daddy,” she said into the phone, “I want him to cum in my ass. Do you want him to cum in my ass too?”

My eyes were shut. I was vividly imagining her bent over his dresser, Robert behind her, looking at her tits swinging in the mirror as he fucked her from behind. I pictured her left hand holding the phone to her ear and her right hand moving back to her ass, pulling her right cheek to spread as wide as she could go for him to bury his long dick in her bum. Maybe she was fingering her hole as well.

I heard her ramping up, going into the overture to her orgasm.

I slid Stoya’s cunt up and down more vigorously and I could feel my cuckolded cum rising to the surface. Lo launched into her operatic aria and I could hold out no longer. I came and came deep inside Stoya as Robert came deep inside Lola.

A perfect triple play!

After we all were able to bask in the beauty of the trifecta, Lo stayed on the phone with me as Robert went to clean up.

“Did you like that, Daddy?” she asked.

“You. Are. Amazing,” was all I could say.

“Do you like seeing him make me cum, Daddy?”

“I didn’t see you,” I said, confused.

“I meant yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “You’re a dirty, dirty girl.”

“Am I bad?”

I changed the topic, fearing she’d get all riled up again. “Is Imogen still there?” I asked.

“Oh her? No. She woke up, I think a little embarrassed and very hungover, and we called her a cab. She only had fragments of memory from last night, but she asked me to say something nice to you.”

“Oh, and what was that?”

“She really just said, ‘Say something nice to him.’”

I laughed and she did too. Apparently all was forgiven. Nothing absolves me of my transgressions like Lola’s seducing men to sodomize her.

Feed it to Me

Posted on October 12, 2019 by Lola Down

Faye Danielles Getting Off to Lo’s Pics

“I’m having a dinner party on Friday,” said Robert to Lo as he was about to depart from one of his rendezvous romps with Lo in our bedroom. She was standing naked in the hallway and I was opposite her, fully dressed, holding a tumbler of whiskey. Robert was between us, but facing Lo. “I was hoping you both would come,” he continued as he turned to me.

Lo walked up to him, a sparkle in her eye, and grabbed his arm. “That sounds like fun,” she said, without even consulting me or my calendar. “Who’ll be there?”

“It’s a group of colleagues from Australia. They’re here for a conference and my department nominated me to welcome them.”

“Australia!” Lo exclaimed. “I love going down under.”

“You’ve never been there,” I said, without thought to her double-entendre.

“I can’t wait,” she said without regard for my remark. “What time is the party?”

“I’ve invited people for seven,” he said, and before he could say any more Lo interrupted.

“We’ll come over at five! I love party planning!”

“But. . .” stammered Robert. “I was just inviting you to. . .”

Lo grabbed his arm and said, “A bachelor like you needs help throwing a party. Trust me. It takes a woman’s touch.” She leaned in closer to him and kissed him, her naked body pressed against his clothes as her left hand reached down and stroked his cock over his pants. “We’ll see you at five.”

Robert turned, nodded to me, and left in a rush, slightly embarrassed perhaps.

Friday Lo left work early and spent time at home getting all dolled up. By the time I walked through the door, she was wearing her black pumps, her short black skirt, and a low cut, tight fitting blouse. Her red lipstick stood out against all the black.

“Hi Daddio!” she said, “I thought you’d never get home. Are you ready to go?”

“I guess,” I said.

“Oh no,” she replied, looking me over. “You can’t go like that. Here, let me dress you.”

She led me to the bedroom where she promptly picked out exactly what she wanted me to wear.

“No, not that. I can’t stand that shirt,” I said.

“It looks great on you.”

“It’s too constricting.”

“We can’t all wear sweats all the time you know.”

“Just anything but that.”

“Fine,” she said, picking out an equally disliked shirt. I made no argument because I could see her determination.

“You just like me because I’m like you’re little plaything that you can dress up, take out, and show off,” I said.

“I could say the same about you, but I dress myself up, take myself out, and show myself off.”

“Touché.”

We left and Lo was very anxious and eager in the car. She kept rubbing my crotch as I drove and talking about the party. At some point I turned to her and said, “You know, Lo, it’s not planned to be a gangbang?”

“Who says?” she pouted.

We arrive just before five. Robert had four grocery bags full of food on the kitchen table. His plan included baking fish, a pasta side-dish, and a pie, as well as lots and lots of appetizers. Lo dove in, but before getting to work, she said, “I don’t want to get my outfit dirty while prepping.” She stripped down naked, but for her heels, and put on a cooking apron. Where it tied in the back revealed her sexy sweet ass. She was the picture of domestic bliss.

Lo was fast, efficient, and knew exactly what she wanted. Both Robert and I fumbled to keep up with her. But eventually we had everything laid out nicely, ready to receive Robert’s international cadre.

Surveying the open-plan living room and dining room, Lo seemed well pleased with her accomplishment, but then she said, “I just realized, I’m starving.” Between the kitchen and the dining room there was a tall half-wall that had a number of appetizer dishes laid out on it. Lo bent over and leaned on the wall, looking at the appetizers. As she did, her right hand moved down, behind her cooking apron and to her ass where Robert, who stood behind her could see. She added, “And I’m horny. Robert, are you up to fuck me?” she asked as she slapped her ass loudly to get his attention, as if he wasn’t already staring at her cunt.

Without a word, as if her ass slap was a special language between them, he unbuckled his belt and pulled out his cock. As he approached her from behind, she looked up at me and said, “Daddy, feed me.”

I was standing in the kitchen and saw her open her mouth. I picked up one of the small hors-d’oeuvre’s and raised it to her lips. She bit her lip as Robert entered her, but then she opened wide and took the whole thing.

“Feed me,” she commanded again as Robert was going at her from behind.

I selected a different delight for her.

Robert grabbed onto her waist. I continued to feed her and I said, “Lo, you want me to make you plump?”

“Yes Daddy. I want to be phat for you. I want to be soft and doughy.”

I continued to feed her and Robert continued to fuck her.

“Lo,” I said as I watched her tum and tits jiggle beneath her as Robert thrusted from behind, “I love your fat, your flab, your rolls, your chub, your pudge, your every delightful round, juicy, plump, perfect curve.”

She came. Then she said to me with a breathy voice, “Get me that.”

At first I didn’t know what “that” was, but she pointed. It was a bottle of extra virgin olive oil. I went to pass it to her, but she just held out her hand and said, “Pour.” I put a little in the palm of her hand. She reached back and applied it to her special spot.

“Robert,” she said, “You may have my ass now.”

Lo knew very well how, as permissive as I am, the granting of that one reserved pleasure makes me jealous. I should be the one to get the benefit of her ass. But I let her have her way. He entered her slowly as she guided him with her slippery hand. She moaned. He said, “Lo, you’re so tight.”

“Feed me!” she commanded me again. I obeyed. By this point the cooking apron’s knot had come untied and was drooping beneath her, only held up by the collar around her neck. Her tits were flopping forward and back as Robert thrust with strong movements deep in her ass. I saw her hands grab onto the marble of the countertop as she braced for a powerful orgasm. Robert began to moan loudly as he was on the cusp of cumming in her ass and Lo squeezed her knees together and held on tightly to the marble. She squirted all over Robert’s legs and the floor as he pulled out. Then Lo either decided or instinctively did something to get my ire up (and something else up). She turned round rapidly and got on her knees to take Robert’s cock in her mouth and let him explode there. She was still squirting on the floor in spurts and, when Robert finally pulled out of her hungry mouth, she collapsed in her own lady juices on the hardwood floor. Her legs were like jelly now. She squirted again as she said, “Holy fucking shit!” with both hands between her legs in a futile attempt to stem the flood.

Lola

Robert ran to the bathroom and got a few towels. He and I both helped Lo up and onto the couch, careful to place another towel under her before setting her down.

Robert dutifully cleaned up the mess on the floor and I gently kissed Lo’s forehead until she had regained some of her strength.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” said Robert cheerfully.

I removed Lo’s wet shoes and got a few paper towels to dry them off and clean them up.

Soon enough everything was neat and tidy again. Lo went to the bathroom to change back into her party outfit and spruce up a bit, leaving Robert and me alone.

“You know, you have an amazing woman,” he said. “Not only is she a fucking crazy nympho, but she can cook and host a party.”

“She’s pretty smart, too,” I added.

“That goes without saying,” he replied.

When Lo returned to the room, she looked ravishing. Even if I hadn’t witnessed it myself, her glow said, “I just got fucked beyond consciousness.” Too bad she had already been ravished by Robert and the guests were due soon, meaning I would be hard up the rest of the evening.

While she and Robert were in the living room and I in the kitchen, she said something to him I couldn’t hear. Then she came to me and was very demure.

“Daddy?” she opened.

“Yes,” I said without a hint of emotion, which gave away that I was very emotional.

“Are you mad?”

“No, Lo,” I said, perhaps lying, though I really didn’t know my own feelings.

“Kiss me,” she said.

I hesitated, but she came close and kissed me, open mouth, with lots of tongue.

When she was done, I said, “Well, wasn’t that just the coup de grâce?”

She replied, “You mean crudités?”

“I don’t know, was taking his cock in your mouth right from your ass merely an appetizer, or was it the final blow?”

“Well,” she said with a wicked smile, “I hope not final!”

She kissed me again and grabbed my package as she did saying, “Admit you liked it, Daddy?”

I said nothing, but my silence gave me away. I couldn’t both feign anger and be aroused at the same time, and the two contradictory feelings in me were wreaking havoc on my tortured soul.

Then she revealed to me the plan she and Robert had concocted together. Actually, that’s not fair. I’m sure that it was all Lo’s idea.

“Daddy,” she began, gently grabbing my arm.

“Yes?”

“If it’s ok with you, when the guests arrive, I’d like to pretend for the night that I’m Robert’s girlfriend.”

mysexlifewithlola

The trials and tribulations of dating a nymphomaniac.

Category Archives: Anal Sex

I Want to Drown in Lola Down

Like this:

“The Good Place”

Like this:

Asses Up

Like this:

Pink Grapefruit

Like this:

A.O.L.

Like this:

Hallmark of a Happy Hotwife

Like this:

Quiver

Like this:

Schrödinger’s Pussy

Like this:

Absolution

Like this:

Feed it to Me

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this: