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.
Soon the guests had arrived. Because they were an international contingent traveling together, they all arrived together rather than in drips and drabs. There were eight of them; two women and four men.
Thank goodness it was buffet style and not a sit-down dinner because with those numbers and pairings I would have been the odd-man-out. Or, at least that was my first thought. But then, as the guests were introduced to me, I had a follow-up thought: If Lola is Robert’s partner, then that means, for all intents and purposes to these folks, I am single, available, and, I hope, an attractive American catch! Ah-ha! Two can play at Lola’s little game!
Yes, each of the Aussies were introduced to me, but I’m horrible at names. The only name I remembered was Imogen. Of the two female guests, she was the older, more mysterious, more attractive, and more married. It also helped that she was named after a Shakespearian character. She looked like she was thrilled to be so far away from home where what happens here stays here. I was very pleased to make her acquaintance.
Imogen had sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes. She had a very casual, relaxed attitude and was dressed in tight jeans with heels and a very sheer, sleeveless white top. When she drank, it was with her left hand and that gesture displayed her very large, prominent wedding ring. I’ll admit, I was also taken in by her accent and foreign phrases.
The guests mingled and made small-talk and Lo played her part to a tee. She kept her left hand in the nook of Robert’s right arm and positively glowed as he introduced her to each of his colleagues as his partner. Her eyes sparkled and her mouth was inviting.
Small dishes and appetizers were served. Wine was poured. Eventually we all found our way to the living room where there was ample seating. Lo brought out a tray of cheese and crackers and other little bites and placed it on the low coffee table in the center. As she bent over to carefully set it down, I could see up her short black skirt. So could others, I’m sure. She looked so dainty in full hospitality mode. Little would anyone suspect that Robert had been ramming his rod up her beautiful Betty Boop just a little while ago.
She took her “proper” place next to Robert on the couch. Her right hand was gently, maybe unconsciously, stroking up and down his pantleg as she would normally do to me when we had company at our house. It was a surreal feeling, as if we had broken up and now I was viewing her with her new man at a soiree that we both, coincidentally, happened to attend. However, every now and again she would glance my way and give me a knowing look, as if to say, “This is all just show. I’m going to jump your bones tonight ’cause this is making me so horny.”
I positioned myself next to Imogen and made some small talk with her. I expressed exaggerated interest in her, looking deep into her eyes and feigning a strong connection to whatever she said. Occasionally I gave a sidelong glance at Lo to insure that she was seeing my Academy-worthy performance as much as I was a witness to hers. Maybe I overplayed my hand. Soon Imogen was actually making the moves on me! I mean, I liked her and found her attractive, but I certainly wasn’t looking for anything other than a counterpoint to Lo’s cruel counterfeit.
I got up and made my way to the kitchen. Lo followed, excusing herself in order to get some of the entrée. She stomped right up to me and in a hushed voice she threatened, “You stop your little flirtation or you will be sorry. You hear me?”
“Lo,” I stammered. “I was hardly flirting.”
“Oh, that’s so interesting,” she mocked my voice. “Keep it up and. . .”
“And what?” I taunted. “You’ll sleep with Robert?”
She stomped her foot, but quietly. She abruptly turned and opened the oven to get the fish. As she was bending over to take it out using oven mitts, who should appear next to me but Imogen! “Can I help you with that?” she asked, her lovely accent making the question sound almost like a lilting melody.
“Oh no,” said Lo, “I’ve got it. It’s just hot, but nothing I can’t handle.” She was being as pleasant as pie, but I knew her too well and thus was aware that this was her “I’ll kill you with kindness” voice.
Lo brought out all the food and we all ate and drank to excess. Imogen was uncomfortably cordial toward me. But the more drinks I got in me, the less concerned about Lo’s feelings I was.
Lo, for her part, was playing the dutiful girlfriend and hanging on Robert’s arm, laughing at his every banal witticism. Her sparkle, I must admit, brought real life and charm to the party.
After a good deal of indulging, Lo brought out the dessert tray and cozied up next to Robert on the couch again. In the position she was sitting, I could see her cute tum rolls and it drove me wild! I watched intently as she ate one delicacy after another, picking up the confections with her fingers and popping them into her mouth. I thought of how I was feeding her before the guests arrived. She must have seen me dreaming, because she looked right at me as she seductively put a chocolate truffle into her mouth.
After that, for me, the night wore on. I just wanted to be alone with Lo, to feed her in both literal and metaphoric ways. But there still was the problem of Imogen. She became more and more flirtatious, placing her hand on my knee and occasionally moving close enough to me on the couch that her shoulder and mine were touching.
I felt that I was at an inflection point. I could take one more drink and throw caution to the wind, indulging Imogen’s interests while ignoring Lo’s warnings. Or I could cut myself off and take control of the situation. The former prospect was fraught with problems and so was the latter, especially since I had very knowingly led my Australian married friend to believe that I was truly interested in her. I knew which was the right choice, but neither was an easy choice.
“Daddy,” asked Lo, “if it’s ok with you, when the guests arrive, I’d like to pretend for the night that I’m Robert’s girlfriend.”
I raised my eyebrows as a confused bunch of emotions swirled in my mind. Of course one of those emotions was arousal. But there was also intrigue, surprise, befuddlement, and a twinge of hurt and even a sliver of jealousy. Why wouldn’t she be ok with introducing me as her partner? Why the rouse? All of these thoughts flooded my mind, but then, at the flash of her pearly whites and her sexy red tongue gliding over them seductively, I could see that the real reason for the roleplay was because it excited her.
She liked the thought of taunting me, making me jealous, leaving me in the cold – the third-wheel as she got to be the center of attention. So, what was I to do? I capitulated and she gave me a devoted little peck on the cheek as a reward.
She practically danced back to Robert to give him the good news and I saw his face light up. I imagine he has felt a bit awkward as a middle-aged single guy in a mostly coupled world. And that awkwardness couldn’t have been diminished at all by coming to our house at all hours of the night for a booty call with Lola. So, her little charade for the evening’s entertainment must have boosted his confidence.
“You know,” I said to Lo at one point before the guests arrived, “there’s a job for what you do.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, clearly delighted by her acting role.
“It’s called ‘girlfriend rental,’ or something like that. I saw an article about it a while ago. Men who don’t have girlfriends can hire a woman to be their date for a company function or even for Thanksgiving!”
“Hmmmmm, interesting,” she pondered, “a little side-hustle.”
“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.”
“Come,”
I heard her yell from the bedroom down the hall as I walked into the house
after a long Friday at work. She might
have been saying “Cum!” to a lover.
There’s never any way to tell from the sound of her voice – only on the
page.
I
cautiously walked down the long hall to the bedroom. What would I find?
The
door was open a crack. I peeked in. She was naked, on her tum, her round rump
nicely illuminated by the setting sun.
Her legs were bent at the knees and her bare feet dangled up in the air,
twined around each other. In her hand
she held her phone.
“Come
in, Daddio,” she said without turning her eyes from the screen in front of
her.
I
walked in and removed my jacket and tie.
“What
you up to?” I inquired.
“I
bet you’d like to know.”
“That
is why I asked,” I said flatly as I removed my shirt and undid my belt.
“Get
naked, get hard, and get in me,” she commanded.
“I’m
already hard,” I said.
“As
you should be,” she replied, moving her hand to her mouth, licking her fingers
and then moving her hand to her ass and circling her wet fingers around her
special spot.
“Oh,”
I commented, “You want it like that?”
“No,
Daddio,” she said, “I’m just enjoying myself.”
Always
coy when it comes to her ass. Always for
someone else, or for her own pleasure, but never for me.
I
got behind her and tried to look at her phone by leaning forward over her back
and seeing over her shoulder.
“Get
up there and fuck me,” she instructed, her finger still rounding her sweet spot
as I slid into her puss. “I’ll tell you
what I’m looking at.”
I
did as she said and she told me that a fellow blogger, a woman named TJ, wrote
to us saying, “I love reading your blog.
It gets me so wet.”
“Really?! Do I know this TJ?” I asked as I thrusted
harder.
I
slowed down a bit trying to remember which erotic blog that was.
“Don’t
stop!” Lo said as her hand grabbed the girth of my cock and she pushed her ass
back into my hips, bouncing off of my bare bodkin.
I
resumed my powerful, pleasurable, pelvic pounding.
“Look,”
she said, putting her phone up on her back for me to read the email. It said:
I love how
accepting you are of Lola’s magnificent sexuality. You guys seem to have ‘it’
don’t you? I wish I could masturbate as openly as you do, Lola. I feel
self-conscious, like an addict or something. But I fucking love fucking myself.
. . it’s the best. I am more autosexual than anything else I think. Keep
celebrating each other.
Fan mail like that makes it all
worth it. Well, that’s not completely
true. I know that I would be writing all
this whether no one read it, or only one person read it – Lola. But knowing that others read it, enjoy it,
and get off to it is the icing on the cake.
Speaking
of icing, as I read the email, Lo began to climax as one hand worked her ass
and the other, from underneath, worked her clit. Her Kegel muscles contracted and I was
squeezed out of her as she curled into a convulsing, throbbing ball, squirting
uncontrollably. The more she pushed her
knees up to her breasts in a tightly bound fetal position, the more she sprayed
the bed and my knees. I lifted up her
phone to prevent it from being ruined by the liquid.
TJ, author and model of The Lustful Empress, getting off to Lo
“Fuuuu-uuuuck,”
she groaned as the last bit of lady juice spurted out of her.
When
she regained control of her limbs, she slowly got up and pulled the soaked
sheets with her, dropping them in the laundry basket. “I’ll clean up, Daddy, but right now I have
to get ready.”
“Ready
for what?” I asked, holding my throbbing, hard rod in my hand.
“My
date.”
“Date?”
“With
Robert. I told you, didn’t I?”
I
just looked dumbfounded.
“We’re
going to the movies.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“And
what are you seeing?”
“The Favourite.”
“Is
he your favorite now?” I asked, demoralized.
“No,
Daddio, she said, caressing me and looking up at me with those beautiful big
brown eyes. “That’s the name of the
movie. It’s a period piece.”
“Really? Not a porno?”
“Well,
I hear it has a lot of woman-on-woman sex scenes.”
“I
knew it!”
“But
that’s not why we’re going to see it.”
“You’re
going to see it to have sex in a crowded theater.”
“Oh,
Daddy, you always impute to me the most debased of motives.”
“So
why are you going to see it?”
“It’s
historical. It has great sets, acting,
and costumes.”
“And?”
“And
probably to fuck in a dark theater.”
“Don’t
get caught.”
“But
getting caught is at least half the fun.
Does that make you jealous?” she asked, as her hand stroked my hard
cock.
“So
you’re leaving me home alone on a Friday night?”
“Not
totally alone,” she said, “You have TJ.”
“Who?”
“TJ,
the woman from the blog.”
“Oh,
right,” I said to my consolation prize.
Lola
made the bed and I watched her tits droop as she bent over to tuck in the
sheets. Her naked body moved like a
delightful dance as she unfurled the blanket.
“Look,”
she said, as she hopped back in the bed and took up her phone. I sat next to her. Her left hand stroked my hard erection up and
down as she scrolled through TJ’s blog with her right hand.
We
read and looked at the photos together.
Lola
TJ of The Lustful Empress
“She
sounds like she could be your twin sister,” I said as I read about how TJ
becomes aroused by her own naked body.
“Hold
this,” she said, giving me the phone.
Now,
with her right hand she was stroking her pussy and I scrolled through the
blog.
“Oh
boy,” I said, “You want her.”
Lo
bit her lower lip.
“Lo,”
I cautioned, “You just made the bed. You
don’t want to. . .”
Before
I could finish my sentence, she had jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom,
barely making it to the toilet before releasing her ejaculate all over the tile
floor with a scream.
When
she had regained her composure, she got some paper towels and got on her hands
and knees to clean up the mess.
“What
time is your movie?”
“Eight,”
she called back. “But we’re meeting for
drinks first.”
“Well,
you’re going to be late,” I told her.
She
jumped in the shower and I continued to look at the blog, hard up.
“Hey,”
she called to me, “you’re not allowed to cum.
You know that, right?”
“I
still don’t understand how that is fair,” I said, taunting her.
I
got up and looked at her in the shower.
“Get!”
she screamed. She hates when I see her
in her shower cap.
“How
is it fair that you get to cum twice and then go on a date with another man and
I’m not allowed any autoerotica myself?”
“First,”
she said from behind the shower curtain, “it’s not autoerotic if you use
someone else’s pictures. Second, you
didn’t count the three times I came before you got home.”
“Lo,
now you’re just. . .”
“And
third,” she cut me off, “this has nothing to do with fairness. It has everything to do with me.
What I want. What I allow
you. Got that? Don’t forget it.”
Lo
jumped out of the shower and hastily dried off before slipping into a blue
dress and blue heels. No panties.
“You’re
going to be cold like that,” I cautioned.
“I’m
planning on things heating up quickly,” she said.
Soon
enough she was out the door, leaving me alone.
I
scrolled through TJ’s blog, which I recalled I had seen before, and I thought
to myself, “She said no cumming, but she didn’t say no edging.”
I
spent about an hour going through each and every post before I thought to
myself, “If I don’t stop this right now, I’m going to explode!”
Stoya Left, Lola Right
In
order to take the edge off, I switched to photos of Lo, which are always fair
game, and I pulled out the old Stoya Fleshlight. Lubing up Stoya and myself, I imagined what
Lo was up to with Robert. I didn’t even
need to see Lo’s photos. Soon enough I was
cumming and cumming hard and deep in Stoya’s pussy, just thinking about Lo in a
dark theater, legs spread, and Robert discretely moving his hand up her smooth
thigh until reaching that wet pussy, pulsating with anticipation. Gently he would rub and flick her pussy lips,
clandestinely making her cum. I pictured
her hands gripping the seat and her upper teeth biting down on her bottom lip
to prevent the scream from escaping her mouth.
That was enough to bring me over the edge and release me into a deep
sleep.
Lo’s
trysts with Robert continued on a fairly regular basis. He’d text.
She’d encourage him to come. He
would. But as his drop-ins became more
frequent, the novelty of it began to wear off for Lo, and perhaps for Robert as
well. And so they would engage in
different, ever more elaborate conceits to involve me in their affair. I shall mention just a few of them here.
Though
I sat merely yards away from where they were going at it in the bedroom, one
time Lo called me on her phone from there to the living room. I could practically hear her talking, even
without the use of the phone, yet she spoke to me as if I was far off in
another town.
“Daddy,
do you want to know what Robert is doing to me now?”
“What’s
he doing, Lo?” I asked, nonchalantly.
“He’s
behind me, fucking me doggy-style. His
cock is so long, it’s hitting my spot perfectly,” she said, following it up
with a long moan that I could hear perfectly in the living room.
Another
time, as they were going at it in the bedroom, Lo took a selfie. She was doggie-style, he behind her. She made a big ‘O’ with her mouth as if she
were in ecstasy. She texted the photo to
me.
A
different night, after I showed Robert into the bedroom and I was about to turn
to leave, Lo stopped me. She was naked
under the sheets. Robert was fully
dressed and anxious. Lo said, “Wait,
Daddio.”
“Yes,”
I asked, like a dutiful servant in a nineteenth century English manor
house.
“Tonight
I’m going to give Robert my ass,” she said.
“And?”
I asked politely.
She
fumbled in the nightstand drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube. “Will you grease me up?” she asked, pulling
down the sheets, turning over, protruding her ass in the air and pointing to
her special spot.
Devotedly,
I took the lube and covered my index finger with it and proceeded to spread it
all around her target as she moaned and wiggled her ass. I then inserted my finger in and out as
Robert looked on. “Like this, Lo?” I
asked.
Right there!
“MmmmmHmmmm,”
she said, “More.”
I
continued. She orgasmed, collapsing into
the bed.
“That
will be all,” she said dismissively.
“Robert, I’m ready for you.” And
she slid on her tum so that her legs were spread on the floor and she was bent
over at a ninety-degree angle on the bed.
I saw Robert unbuckle his belt and undo his pants as I slowly closed the
door. I heard Lo moan as he entered her
and I walked down the hall.
“Daddio,”
I heard her call once more, just as I got to the living room.
I
returned and knocked on the door.
“Come
in,” said Lo, struggling to speak.
I
entered the room. Robert had already
entered her. Lo looked up at me.
“Daddio,”
she said.
“Yes?”
“Do
you want to fuck Stoya while Robert fucks my ass?”
“If
that gives you pleasure,” I said.
“Where
is it?”
“She’s
in the closet.”
“She?!”
she said, “Now it has a gender?!”
“She’s
a vagina. Of course she has a
gender. She goes by the pronouns: She,
Her, Hers.”
“It
is just a vagina.”
“I
don’t reduce women to only their genitalia,” I said, aware of the irony of my
statement.
“Well,
grab your vagina and pull out your cock,” she said.
I
got my Stoya Fleshlight and unzipped my pants.
Lo applied the lube to my cock and then held Stoya in her hands as I
penetrated her (that is, Stoya’s) vagina.
Stoya & Stoya’s Fleshlight
“That’s
it, Daddio. You fuck Stoya while Robert
fucks my ass,” she said with clear delight.
She shut her eyes and enjoyed the ride.
In a remarkable chain reaction, Lo began to cum and then both Robert and
I came, making for a splendid triple play.
“This is for you, Daddy”
These
odd requests and variations were the exception, however, not the norm. The norm was a five or ten minute shag, one
orgasm achieved by each party, and then on went the clothes and out the door
went Robert.
One
night Lo had already said yes to Robert’s request to come over, but as he was
on his way, she remembered that she was supposed to make a call overseas for
work. She was planning a major event and
had invited some big name people to join.
She had to make the call and it wouldn’t be a short conversation.
Lo
was already on the phone with her connection abroad when Robert arrived. I explained to Robert the mix-up when he
walked in and he asked, “Should I wait?” looking uncomfortable about the
prospect, and also a bit disappointed and a tad upset. Spoiled man.
“No,”
I said in reply. “Lola said you could
quietly sneak in.”
Sneak
into what? The bedroom? Her snatch?
Both apparently.
Lo
was naked, standing up, bent over a desk, one hand holding the phone and the
other a pen as she took notes. She used
the pen to point to her ass and indicated where she wanted Robert. She then put the pen perpendicularly over her
lips to indicate, “Shhhhhh.” Robert
didn’t even fully undress. He just
pulled out his rod and mounted her, slowly and easily. She continued her conversation as if nothing
was happening behind her. He slid in and
out, using her wet snatch for his pleasure until he finally came deep inside
her. He put his pud back in his pants,
zipped up, washed off, and blew a kiss goodbye to Lo as she continued to take
notes, cum dripping down her inner thigh.
After I saw Robert out, I got a warm washcloth to clean her off. When she was finally done with her business
call, she joined me in the bed.
Thanks Robert
“Did
you enjoy that?” I asked.
“Enjoy
it?” she asked back, surprised. “I
didn’t even notice. I was too focused on
the phone call.”
Friday and finally all my meetings were over. I flew home that night. I hadn’t heard from Lo since the previous night when she enigmatically told me that she had dinner with Robert. I was eager to see her. I was hard-up and aching for release. On top of that, there was the tantalizing mystery of what happened on her “date” with Robert. Just to make matters worse, fate so ordained it that on my flight home I was seated next to a young, attractive college girl wearing a tight fitting miniskirt and a low cut blouse. Her breasts were full and, when placing her carryon in the storage compartment above, she stretched and revealed a delectable midriff and even some under-boob. When we sat down, she saw that I was reading Fast Girl, the book by Suzy Favor Hamilton about her life as a high-end Vegas escort and her sex addiction.
Suzy Favor Hamilton
“What
is that?” she asked, naively, but with a hint of being in-the-know.
“It’s
a memoir,” I said tersely. Her interest
made me nervous. Her looks made me more
nervous. Her age made me simply
petrified – in every sense of the term.
“I
think I’ve heard of it. It’s about. . .”
her brow wrinkled with the struggle of recall.
“A
woman who leads a double-life as a devoted wife and mom and as a prostitute.”
“Oh,”
she said, shocked at my candor. She
quickly followed it up with a smile and, “Do you like it?”
Suzy Favor Hamilton
There
was a mischievousness to her question that indicated to me that she wanted to
know what turns me on.
“It’s
my homework,” I said, as if that negated any pleasure I may derive from it.
“Homework?”
she asked. “What class are you in?” She wanted to enroll.
“My
girlfriend assigned it to me. She said
it would help me understand her better. The last assignment was Getting Off, about a woman addicted to
self-pleasure through humiliation porn.”
“Girlfriend?”
she asked. “Aren’t you married?” she
inquired while indicating my wedding band.
Clearly she was interested in more than my reading material.
“Oh
that,” I said, “I wear it to keep the ladies away.” My standard line.
“Yeah
right,” she said. “Every guy knows that
nothing attracts single women like a man who’s spoken for.”
“You
got me there,” I said. She was
attracted. This would be a l-o-n-g
flight.
“I
wish,” she said under her breath. “So,
your girlfriend – or whatever – is addicted to porn?”
“I
don’t know that she’s addicted to porn.
She likes porn. But she
definitely is addicted to pleasure.”
“I
know the feeling,” she said.
“Is
that so?”
“Would
you like to know the feeling?”
“Look,”
I said, “what’s your name?”
“Kayla,”
she said. Of course her name was Kayla.
“Look
Kayla, I’m already involved with a nymphomaniac. It takes every ounce of my energy, focus,
concentration, devotion, love, and chi to satisfy her. . . and still I come up
short. I appreciate your interest. I really do, but I’m on my way back home to
see her, and, well, to be honest, the beautiful batting of your eyelashes is
very well and good, but I’ve got a perfect slut waiting for me at home.”
If
this attractive, flirty, young woman had been sitting next to me on the departure
flight, when I was more mad at Lo than missing her, things may have been
different. Even then, the fact is, no
matter how angry I am with her, I still love Lo. And I know, no matter how attractive other
women may be, the witty repartee that Lo and I have is inimitable.
I tried to make my
position clear. She accepted the
boundaries I had set. But she switched
gears and now asked me all about Lo. I
gladly told her. It was probably my best
in-flight conversation. By the time we
landed, despite our fight or because of it, I wanted Lo more than ever. (I gave Kayla the blog address, just so she could
see for herself how it’s done.)
I
got home and as soon as I walked in the door I knew I was in for trouble. Lo wasn’t talking to me except monosyllabic
words. “Hi.”
“How
are you?” I asked.
“Fine.”
You
get the gist. But she was dressed in a
pink sleeveless t-shirt and her black lace panties. That’s it.
She pranced around with her hard nipples poking through the front of her
shirt, her side-boobs bouncing and peeking out from the open underarms. She.
Looked. Good.
Surf’s Up
I
was hard.
I
wanted her.
I
needed her.
I
had no idea how to approach her.
So
I took the direct approach: “You wanna fuck?”
“Your
seduction technique is so subtle, yet captivating,” she said.
I
knew I was making good progress because captivating is four syllables.
“Yeah,”
I said, nonchalantly.
“Then
why are you still wearing your clothes?”
I
stripped and she pulled down her panties.
Her
pussy was smooth, shaven, pink and beautiful.
“What’s
the occasion?” I asked.
“This?”
she asked, stroking her lovely mons pubis.
“Yeah,”
I said, “that.” For a moment I was under
the impression that she was anticipating my return and that she had shaved for
me. She disabused me of that notion
right away.
“I
told you,” she said, “I was seeing Robert last night.”
We
were in the bed now. I was looking down
at her lovely body. “You did that for
Robert?”
“Semper
fi,” she said.
“Semper fi?” I asked,
perplexed.
“Yeah,”
she said, “Always prepared; the motto of the marines.”
“Semper
fi means ‘always faithful.’”
“Oh,”
she said. “Whoops!”
“You
can say that again. So, were you
faithful?”
“Fuck
me and I’ll tell you.”
I
was arched over her and I enjoyed looking at her beautiful body as her hand
guided my protruding member up and down her wet labia. “Come on, Daddy,” she said, “fuck me. You know you need it. Take it.”
I
penetrated her. From the feel of things,
she needed me as much as I needed her.
Once
I had fully engorged her, I asked, “So, what happened last night?”
She
was too busy enjoying my rod. She came
within seconds.
I
waited for her to catch her breath.
“Tell me,” I commanded.
“I
met him at his house,” she said in her breathy voice.
“What
were you wearing?”
“A
short skirt. My leather boots. A tight top.”
“Go
on.”
“I
met him there. He kissed me hello.”
“On
the lips?”
“Yes.”
“Mighty
forward of him.”
“I
made sure it was on the lips.”
“Oh.”
“We
talked a little and then he drove us to the restaurant. I think he liked being seen in there with
me. It looked like a first or second
date, I’m sure.”
“What
did you talk about?”
“Him,
mostly. His needs. His wants.
His desires.”
“Oh,
so you talked about you.”
“You
could say that.”
She
came again. Nothing excites her as much
as she.
“And
then?”
“We
went back to his place. He invited me
in. He offered me a drink. We sat on the couch. Before I finished my first drink, we were
making out. His hands were under my top,
feeling my breasts, pulling my nipples.”
Too
much! I came.
As
I pulled out of her and rolled on my back, she said, “Well, I guess you’ll have
to wait to hear how the night ended.”
“Uh-uh,”
I said, “You’re going to finish this slut-saga tonight.
“Only
if you’ll fuck me again.”
“Start
talking. You know what your words do to
me.”
She
moved closer to me and her index finger twirled around my flaccid cock as she
spoke:
His fingers were running up and down
my clit over my panties. Within a couple
of strokes, my panties were soaked. He
could feel it.
‘Why
have you held out on me all this time?’ I asked Robert as he was feverishly
trying to slide my panties over my boots.
He got them off and he was trying to
remove my skirt, but it has a zipper in the back. I kissed him and slowly stood up, turned
around, and let him unzip it. The skirt
fell to the floor and he felt my bare ass with his hands and then he began
kissing it.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he said. ‘Even more beautiful than in your photos.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, turning around
to face him. He saw my silky smooth
pussy. He kissed it. I came.
I came hard just from the light touch of his lips on my soft
triangle. I had to grab his shoulders to
steady myself. I pulled his head in to
my tum and he kissed me as he slowly removed my shirt. He sucked on my tits as I stood totally naked
before him.
‘Here I am, bare as the day I was
born,’ I said, ‘and you have all your clothes on.’
I began unbuttoning his dress
shirt. I got him out of it and out of
his t-shirt. I then got him to stand as
I got on my knees and I undid his belt, his pants button, his fly, and slowly
pulled down his trousers. I could see
his enormously long cock in his boxers.
I wanted it. I pulled down his
boxers and there it was, just as I remembered it. It was beautiful, but it was as soft as you
are right now.
I
was soft, but getting harder. “He did
tell us that he has a performance problem,” I said.
“Yeah,
I know,” she said. “I sucked on it and
gave it my best blowjob, but damn it all, I couldn’t get it hard.”
“Really?!” That was a first.
“Yeah,”
she said.
“Please
demonstrate,” I asked. “Perhaps there is
a problem with your technique.”
That
really pissed her off. Never insult Lo’s
skills in the bedroom, or any other room.
She
put her mouth on my cock and said, “I have impeccable technique.” That she did.
She worked on my slack slinky and it slowly regained some rigidity.
As
she lifted her soft lips off my stuff, she said, “He didn’t respond to my
loving labia, so I got under him and opened wide, taking his huge balls in my
mouth. That he liked. It got an immediate reaction.”
“You
are fond of instantaneous reviews.”
“He
then guided me to the bedroom where. . .”
“No,
wait,” I interrupted, “let me get in you now.”
I was hard-up and wanted to hear the end of her story from a position
that would allow me to gage her level of excitement. I slid my arousal-meter inside her and she
continued.
“We got into bed
and, well, he was still having difficulty performing. I asked him, ‘Do you want to look at some
porn together?’”
“You wanted it
bad, didn’t you?” I asked.
“I’m always up for
porn,” she said, nonchalantly. “And he
was too. He pulled up the blog.”
“Our blog?!”
“Yes. What other blog?”
“OK.”
“And we scrolled
through some pics together. He settled
on one of you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. And he got hard.”
“You’re kidding
me.”
“No I’m not. I asked him, ‘You like his cock?’ and he
said, ‘Yes.’”
“You wouldn’t put
me on like that, would you?”
“I swear,” she
said, sincerely. “I asked him more about
it and he told me that he thinks his problem might be that he’s gay. He said he likes being with women, but he gets turned on by looking at guys.”
“So what did you
do?”
“We looked at some
more porn together, mostly gay porn, cuck porn, and swinger porn. He eventually turned me over, doggy-style,
put his laptop on my back, and fucked me from behind.”
“He used you like
a coffee table?!”
“Well, if someone
invented a cross between a coffee table and a fuck doll, then, yes.”
“Good idea.”
“And then he asked
me if he could go in my ass.”
“The audacity of
that man!”
“And I said yes.”
“You little slut.”
“Yes, Daddy. Say it again.
You’re turning me on.”
“You skank. You trollop.”
“He went in my ass
and then he asked, very politely, if he could cum in me.”
“You anal
whore. I bet you wanted him to.”
“Well, I had cum
so many times by that point, it only seemed fair.”
After she said
that, I came, not in her ass, but deep in her, for the second time.
“I’m glad you were
able to be so charitable while I was away,” I said. I have to admit, I felt a twinge of jealously
and, for a moment, I regretted not taking advantage of my opportunity on the
plane.
“Why didn’t you
sleep over?” I asked her.
“It had been a
long time since I had anal sex,” she began to say.
“Don’t I know it,”
I added.
“And so I wanted
to go home to clean up. I’m sorry, but I
may have made a bit of a mess on your car seat.”
“She
has one boyfriend in Naples, another in Amsterdam, and then she toys with me.”
“Toys
with you?” Lo’s ears perked up.
Robert
had made an excellent meal for Lo and me even though we had dropped in on him
unexpectedly. He is a very generous and
hospitable man and he opened a bottle of wine for Lo as he and I enjoyed an
excellent bottle of Scotch. It was so good
and so smooth that, before we knew it, he and I were on our fourth already. It hit me all at once and I suddenly realized
that I was having difficulty seeing straight.
“We
Skype with each other once a week.”
“Ooooh,”
squealed Lo, “Skype sex.” Her tongue
slid over her front teeth.
Robert
blushed, “It’s not like that,” he protested.
“I’m
sure,” responded Lo.
“No,
really. Well, maybe once in a long
while.”
“I
knew it!”
“But
I meant no double entendre. I simply
meant that. . .”
“Do
you like to watch?” interrupted Lo.
“What?”
“Do
you like to watch, to watch her, Linda, when she toys with you?”
Robert
squirmed a little in his seat, uncomfortable.
He’s tremendously uptight and prudish, but he also thinks of himself as
enlightened and courageous, so he answered the question, “Well, yes.”
“Do
you reciprocate?”
“That’s
usually why she calls me on Skype. To. .
.”
“To
see you jack it?”
“If you wish to put it that
way, yes.”
“I
do like this gal. When can I meet her?”
“That’s
just the thing. She shuttles between
Italy, Holland, and London and I don’t think we’ll be together in person again
anytime soon.”
“She
can’t just puddle jump the pond and come over for a quicky?”
Robert
laughed at the suggestion.
“Boy,
you must be so hard-up,” said Lo seductively.
Robert
poured himself another whiskey and gestured to pour another for me. I covered the top of my glass to decline the
offer.
“I’m
sorry,” I said, “I’m going to lie down for a bit.” I got up, unsteadily, and found my way to the
guest bedroom. It was right off the hall
that went to the living room and so I heard snippets of their conversation from
bed.
“I
remember when I was between boyfriends,” Lo was saying, “not literally. I mean, after I graduated college and before
HH, I used to spend two or three nights a week at my friend Alyssa’s
apartment. She and I were the best of
friends back then. I had no romantic
designs on her, but we’d share a bed, both of us naked, holding each
other. She and I were both single and on
nights that we didn’t want to go home with a stranger, we’d take comfort in the
love we shared. After she fell asleep,
I’d lie there, wide awake, horny, and I’d touch myself silently, careful not to
wake her up with my strokes or my inevitably powerful orgasm. Now that’s what I do next to HH
sometimes. Like tonight, I’ll probably
have to do that since he drank too much.”
Hearing
her say that brought a smile to my lips as my mind drifted off on
whiskey-saturated clouds. I dozed for I
don’t know how long before I was roused from my slumbers by the sound of Lo’s
voice saying, “Are you sure you don’t want some company?” She was just entering my room and, as I
opened my eyes, I saw Robert’s shadow in the hallway.
“I’ve
had too much to drink. I’m going to feel
like shit in the morning. Thank you,
Lo,” he said politely.
“Well,
won’t you at least tuck me in?” she asked.
I saw her silhouetted against the hall light filling the doorway. She slowly removed her blouse, dropped her
jeans, undid her bra and took it off, and then slid out of her panties. I felt her naked body sit on the edge of the
bed and then lift up her legs on top of the covers under which I was
lying. Her legs spread and her hand
stroked between them.
Robert
entered the room timidly. He bent down
to offer Lo a kiss goodnight. She pulled
his arm and gently guided him into the bed.
“There’s room enough for all three of us,” she said.
He
got into the queen-size bed. I heard Lo
kiss him and before very long I heard him sleeping. I was about to drift off again myself when I
felt and saw Lo caressing herself, there, naked, between the two of us.
After
a restless night of beautiful dreams, I awoke to find Lo next to me, naked, and
Robert next to her, fully clothed. She
was nestled up to his body with her right hand on his crotch. I was holding her – a big spoon to her little
spoon – caressing her breasts.
I
carefully extricated myself from the scene and snuck into the kitchen to make
coffee. I found my phone in my pocket
and on it was a text from Lo. It was
sent only a few hours earlier: “Can I fuck Robert? Please!”
I texted her back: “Good morning, my love.
I was hard-up all night – from the moment you got into the bed next to
me to the moment I woke up next to you, caressing your breasts and your sweet
ass. Your warm, soft, luscious, naked
body looks lovely in the morning light.
In my dreams a word came to mind for you – NILF: Nymph I’d Like to
Fuck. Yes, that’s you.
By all means, feel free to get
Robert up! You have my permission to
rouse him. Show him what a NILF you
are.”
I
was sitting, enjoying a warm cup of coffee when Lo sauntered into the living
room wearing one of Robert’s dress shirts, covering her sexy body down to the
middle of her thighs. She said
nothing. She just cozied up to me on the
couch.
“How
are you, sweetheart?”
“I
missed you, Daddy.”
“What
about Robert?”
“Out
like a light.”
“And
you?”
She
nestled her face into my chest and said something inaudible.
“What?”
She
looked up at me and repeated it in a whisper, “I need to get fucked.”
“By
me or him?” I asked, adding after, “Or
both?”
“Preferably
both, but I’ll take what I can get.”
I
stood up and dropped my trousers. She
bent over the side of the couch and I entered her from behind. She held herself in place with her left hand
and rubbed herself between her legs with her right. It took all of 90 seconds before she came the
first time, audibly. It was about
another minute and a half before she came a second time, even louder. The third time took about five minutes and it
was deafening.
I
pulled out and said, “You’re just trying to wake him up, aren’t you?”
“Am
I a good NILF or bad?”
“It
doesn’t matter, dear.”
“Why
not?” she asked, puzzled.
“Because
you’re my NIFL and I love you.”
She
got on her knees and sucked me off until I came in her mouth and then she got
up and we made breakfast together. The
aroma of the eggs and toast must have woken Robert, because he finally emerged
from the bedroom holding his head.
“Owe!”
he lamented, “Aspirin!”
“Here,”
said Lo, helping him to sit down at the table.
“Have some of this,” she said as she poured him some orange juice and
went into the bathroom to get the aspirin.
She came back and nursed him.
“That’s
my shirt,” said Robert after a moment.
Daddy’s shirt
“Oh,
sorry,” said Lo. “Do you want it back?”
she asked and made as if to unbutton it.
“No,”
said Robert, “I just realized – it looks much better on you.”
We
had breakfast together and then Lo removed the shirt and handed it back to
Robert. “I’m just going to change and
then we’ll be going,” she said, standing naked before him.
Robert
was speechless.
“Thanks
for the hospitality. But next time, try
not to drink so much,” she said before disappearing into the bedroom.
“Do
you remember what happened last night?” asked Robert of me.
“Yes,”
I said.
“Do
you mind sharing?”
“No,” I said, “but when I share, it is only good manners to stay sober enough to be up for it.”
[Editor’s note, this story involves Dr. Robert Smith. For previous stories that include him, click on the links to: Well Laid, Hey Good Lookin’, Pyro, Happy as a Clam, Good Night, My Whore, and Attention Slut. There’s no need to read those stories in that order for this story, but if you are interested in the long flirtation between Lo and Dr. Robert Smith, you can get the backstory in those posts.]
Recently
our financial situation improved. In no
small part, Lo’s getting a full-time job has certainly contributed to our
recovering fiscal health. Now that we
aren’t always scraping by to pay the rent or put food on the table, we actually
have a little bit of money that we can set aside for a rainy day. So, trying to be the responsible adults we
pretend to be, we created a joint savings account. I know, nothing says sexy like money in the
bank. Walking home from the bank,
feeling a sense of accomplishment, I said to Lo, “We’ll call our account ‘The
Community Chest.’”
“Community
Chest! – That’s what they called me in college!” she blurted out with a
smile.
I thought she was
joking and said as much.
“No,” she said,
“that’s really what they called me.
There’s a long story there that I’ll tell you when we get home,” she
said, grabbing hold of my hand and pressing her palm into mine.
When we got home,
I started to make myself a sandwich in the kitchen. “So,” I said to her, “what’s the story from
college?”
“What story?” Lo
asked, playing dumb. She loves to tease
me and see that she has succeeded in piquing my interest.
“You know what
story,” I said, taking out the pickles, “the ‘Community Chest’ story.”
She reached down and
slid her hands from her waist up and under her bust, pushing upwards so that
her cleavage bulged out of the neckline of her black tank top. “You like, Daddy?”
“Yes,” I said,
“but I want to hear the story.”
“Kiss them,” she
instructed.
I wagged my pickle
at her (literally, no pun), and said, “Look here, Lo, if you’re trying to get
me to hop in the sack with you and forego this lovely lunch I’ve just made,
you’re in for some disappointment.”
“I’ll be your
lunch,” she said, standing up, unzipping her skirt and letting it fall to the
kitchen floor. She stood in her little
black lace panties and her black boots.
“Lola,” I said
plaintively.
“You know,” she
paused and thought and then said, “I’m hungry too.” She sauntered over to the fridge like a stripper
on the stage. She bent over, putting her
ass in the air, standing on her tiptoes, and took a long look at the
contents. “I know what I want to eat,”
she said, turning and walking toward me.
What is there to eat?
“Lo. Lo, I see that look in your eye. Lo.”
It was no use. She dropped to her knees on the kitchen
floor. She undid my belt, unbuttoned and
unzipped my jeans, pulled them down, pulled out my hard cock and filled her
mouth with meat.
Snack
“Fuck my face,”
she asked, looking up at me. “Put your
hands here,” she said, moving my hands to her head, “and push me, use me, fuck
my mouth.” I followed instructions. “Harder, Daddy!” she said before I forced her
back on my rod. I had passed the point
of no return and soon I was filling her up as she ravenously swallowed all I
gave her. It all happened in the matter
of a few moments. Then she got up, took
my plate with the sandwich that I had so carefully prepared, and sat at the
table, taking a big bite of it.
“Mmmmmm,” she said, “can I have a glass of seltzer to go with
this?”
“Lo! That was my
sandwich!” I rebuked as I pulled up my jeans.
“I just wanted a
bite. Here you have it.”
“No, it’s yours,”
I said dejectedly as I got her a drink.
“No, I feel
bad. Have half.”
“Fine.” I sat across from her and we ate. “Now,
tell me the story.”
“Well,” she began,
chewing, “you remember Ryan?”
“No, I don’t
remember Ryan.”
“Ryan, the boy
from college.”
“I’m going to need
a little more to go on than that. There
were a lot of boys from college.”
“I told you about
how one night after watching a movie in a friend’s dorm, he and I crashed there
on the sectional couch.”
“I vaguely recall
that.”
“You just want me
to tell you again.”
“Indulge me.”
“Well, we got to
talking in hushed tones about sex.”
“And who initiated
that topic?” I asked sarcastically.
“He was curious
about my masturbatory practices,” she said, ignoring my question. “I told him that I jill it once a day – at
least.”
“Oh yes, I
remember that story now.”
“Well, there’s
more to it than that. Come to the bedroom
and I’ll tell you the rest.”
I followed her
sexy ass to the bedroom, got naked, and climbed into bed with her.
She got on her
back and spread her legs. Putting her
hand down there, under the covers, she continued in breathy tones. “I was masturbating under the covers, like I
am now, as I talked to him in the dark.
I imagined that he was masturbating too.
I asked him about his girlfriend – someone I didn’t really know. He said that he wasn’t too happy with her and
I asked him why he didn’t break up with her.
He said, ‘because she gives really good blowjobs.’ I said, ‘Oh yeah? Tell me how you like it.’ He told me about what she does, adding, ‘but
I don’t think she really enjoys it.’”
Lo was pulling on
her nipples now and squirming in the sheets.
“I was sad to hear
that.”
“I’m sure you were
broken up about it,” I added full of sarcasm.
“I told him, ‘You
should try getting a blowjob from someone who really enjoys it.’”
“Did you give him
one?”
“I really really
wanted to.”
“I’m sure you did.”
“But he was too shy.”
“Too shy?!”
“Or
something. Maybe he felt bad cause of
the girlfriend. Whatever the reason, I
didn’t get to give it to him. I just
masturbated till I came. After that
night, there were many nights when I’d be in my dorm, chatting on Facebook, and
he’d pop up and quickly turn the chat into something sexual.”
“So you had
virtual sex with him?”
“You could say
that.”
“But that still
doesn’t explain how you got the nickname.”
“I’m getting
there. Give me a minute,” she said as
she climaxed.
I
waited for the waves of pleasure to subside.
She
flipped over and lifted her ass up.
“Fuck me, Daddy, and I’ll tell you the rest of the story.”
“Lo,
you just blew me in the kitchen.”
“Come
on! You can do better than that. Can’t you get it up again?”
Her
belittling comments didn’t help the situation.
“Get
behind me and fuck me,” she demanded.
I
got behind her, but I wasn’t hard. She
reached under the bed and passed me her glass dildo. “Use this for now,” she instructed. I slid the smooth, hefty sculpture into her
slippery puss and she continued talking in spurts.
“He
was a gamer and I think he told his nerdy friends about me. Soon they were inviting me over their dorm
rooms to play with them. They each
wanted me to jiggle their joysticks.”
“I
bet they did.”
“They
were all computer geeks and none of them had much sexual experience. Anyhow, I didn’t actually do anything with
them.”
“Nothing?”
I asked in disbelief.
“Not
much, but they made up stories about me.
They each claimed that they fucked me and so they began calling me the
community chest, bragging that they each made a deposit.”
“And
you let them get away with that?”
“Let
them, I got off on it.”
All
this time I was almost mechanically pushing and pulling the glass object in and
out of her puss as she was backing up and pulling forward on her hands and
knees. Now she said, “Harder,
Daddy. Pay attention to what you’re
doing!”
I
tried to give more attention to her puss, but I had more questions for
her. “So,” I asked, “what did you do with them?”
“Well,”
she said, ramping up again, “like I said, they didn’t have much sexual
experience and when I did try to blow one of them he. . .” she broke off and
began her howling orgasm.
I
pulled the dildo out from her and she squirted, involuntarily, all over the
sheets. She thrust her hands between her
legs, trying to stop the sprinkler, and she exclaimed, “Wow! I feel like a fucking Slip-n-Slide!”
“You’re
more fun,” I said.
Collapsing
in the bed when she was done, I brought a towel over and applied it between her
legs and to the sheets. I asked her
again, “What happened?”
“I
squirted,” she said, annoyed at my ignorance.
“No, silly. I mean, what happened with the geek?”
“Oh, well, I was
on my knees and I unzipped his pants, but when I opened up his fly, I saw that
he had already cum. I said to him, ‘Let
me blow you. You can take my tits out of
my top and suck on them,’ but he was so embarrassed that he just zipped up and
left.”
“And
the thought of that made you cum just now?” I asked.
“No,”
she said, “the thought of making all of his friends cum the night that I went
over there to play video games and they watched me finger myself – that made me cum.”
“Tell
me that story.”
“Another
time, Daddio, when I actually have a shot of getting fucked by you,” she said,
closing up shop for the day.
A
July vacation at a beach house for a week can be the perfect antidote to all of
your problems. Unless that vacation is a
family reunion and the beach house is for thirty people. And among those thirty people are married
dads in their forties and fifties who are in good shape. And your girlfriend is Lo. Then, you might have ninety-nine problems,
but Lo is the only one you have to really worry about.
That
was the case this week. Every seven
years or so my extended family decides that we should make a pilgrimage from
all the corners of the globe, rent one enormous house on the beach with enough
bedrooms and bathrooms to accommodate us all, and stay under one roof for seven
days straight. We have been doing this
for a few decades now, but we hadn’t had one of these since I started dating
Lola.
She
hadn’t met most of my family – only heard about them through various stories I
told her and, to be fair, with thirty of them, I doubt that she really could
tell one from the other without having met them in person. But this week, right in the middle of July,
we were all going to be up-close and personal with each other. Foolishly, I hadn’t thought of warning her
prior to our departure. This was my
family. Did I need to warn her? Apparently so.
You
see, if I do say so myself, I come from a very good looking family. My brothers and sisters and my cousins have
certain family features in common – features that drive Lo wild. I’d even venture to say that, of the lot of
us, I am probably the least physically attractive. My male relatives all have strong-cut jaws,
expressive eyes, and the classic broad shoulder tapering to a thin waist. They are very health conscious, for many of
them were athletes even through college.
My female relatives share many of the same good genes that have
preserved their looks into midlife. And
they are married to rather attractive spouses.
Throw
into this mix of middle-age men – all walking around topless, biking, kayaking,
swimming, cooking, and being dads to their respective kids – a twenty something
nymphomaniac with daddy issues wearing a skimpy bikini and you have just
brought all sorts of wrath down upon your head.
Such was my lot for a week.
It
began innocently enough. We were on the
beach with a few of my cousins. The sun
was blazing and the waves were rough and tumble. We had our boogie boards with us and, after a
beer, Lo said she wanted to ride the waves with me. We grabbed the boards and went into the
refreshing water, waded out past the crashing waves and waited for the right
moment. As we were out there, Lo turned
to me and said, “Daddio, I’m so wet!”
“We’re
in the ocean, Lo. Of course you’re wet,”
I replied.
“I
don’t mean like that,” she said with a devilish grin.
Before
I could respond, a wave came and soon she and I were soaring towards the shore
atop the white crest of the surf.
Conditions were just right for multiple sorties. She looked happy, like a little girl. I had never seen her see so happy. She was grinning from ear-to-ear. What I didn’t realize, since I was next to
her for most of the wet-n-wild rides, was that each and every time we caught a
wave and were carried in atop the undulating surge, Lo’s bikini top would be
pushed downward and, each and every time she stood up from the excursion, her
breasts were popping out, wet and glistening in the sun for all my cousins to
see.
I
only found out about this later, when, back in the house, she got naked in the
bathroom with me to take a shower. “Are
you mad, Daddy?” she asked.
“Why
would I be mad?” I said as I saw her perfectly tanned body before me.
“Because
of my ‘accidents’ at the beach.”
“What
accidents?” I asked, naively.
Then
she told me about her struggles with keeping her top on her tits.
We
got in the shower together and washed each other down with body-soap. It was one of those large shower/hot tubs
that had a comfortable seat to sit. I
told Lo to sit down below me and spread her legs. She did so, mistakenly thinking that I was
going to put my cock in her mouth. She
opened up to receive me, but, instead, I took aim and let lose, releasing the
golden stream formed from the many beers I had had on the beach. She relished in the warm stream I doused her
in, covering her tits and tum, puss and feet.
When I was good and done, she pulled my hand down and reversed positions
with me and, putting one foot up on the ledge, she took aim and allowed me to
get it just as good as I gave it.
Then
she got down on her knees on the floor of the shower and took my hard cock in
her mouth, fondling my balls with her right hand as her left rested on my
knee. Her long, wet, dark hair bobbed up
and down under the stream of the shower.
She wanted me to cum, that was clear.
She worked hard to earn my ejaculatory appreciation, but I denied her
the satisfaction of completion. Before
she got lockjaw, we got out of the shower and dried off.
She bent over the
bed, her ass beckoning me. It was my
turn to get on my knees and worship her tumescent pussy lips with my
tongue. She tasted sweet and I wanted
more. I buried the tip of my tongue as
deep as it would go in her cunt and then in her ass and back again and
again. She came multiple times, her cum
dripping down the sides of my mouth and saturating my beard as it streamed down
my neck onto my chest. I delighted in
making her so wet. Due to the cramped
living quarters, she had to bite her lower lip and swallow her orgasmic
screams. She buried her head in the
pillow to moan and groan.
At some point I
heard the sound of a radio playing from the pool area outside our window. AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” was narrating
the scene.
She was a fast
machine,
She kept her motor
clean
They sang as I
licked the smooth mons pubis of Lo from behind.
She could take it no longer and she crawled forward on the bed like a
wounded soldier out of the heat of battle.
She rolled over, exhausted already, and spread her listless legs.
She was the best
damn woman that I’d ever seen.
I slid in her
pussy with my aching rod and, honestly, I couldn’t feel a thing. Just wet.
So wet. At the very instant of my
shaft lodging deep inside her, she came in waves – waves like those of the
ocean that we were riding just a little while earlier. After her quick climax, she was suddenly
filled with new energy. She rolled me
over onto my back and slid her wet slit down the length of my solid pole,
kneeling on top of me as she pulled and pinched her nipples. I grabber by her hips and rocked her forward
and back, slishing and sliding over my hips.
She had a certain
size,
Telling me no
lies,
Knocking me out
with those American thighs.
She came
again. Again, all I could feel was
wetness cascading down upon me.
She dropped her
head down to bite on my neck and then she slid off of my rod slowly as her
tongue slid down my chest, over my abs, eventually resting at my cock. She took it all in her mouth and down the
back of her throat.
Taking more than
her share,
She had me
fighting for air,
She told me to
cum, but I was already there.
I filled her with
my pent-up power. But she wasn’t done –
no, not by a longshot.
She wanted no
applause,
Just another
course,
Made a meal out of
me,
And came back for more.
Had to cool me
down
To
take another round,
Now
I’m back in the ring
To
take another swing!
She
licked and sucked, bobbed up and down, and opened wide for my balls –
everything and anything she could do to get me back up and hard again. When she finally succeeded, she lowered
herself slowly on me once more and grabbed me, letting her nipples gently touch
mine as she let her body become enfolded in mine. I wrapped my arms around her and held her
tight.
Shower Time
From her state of
delirium, she began whispering in my ear.
“You know,” she
said in a hushed tone, “I think your family likes me.”
“I’m sure they
do,” I said.
“I mean,
especially your brothers. They really
like me.”
“I think they
really liked what they saw.”
“And I liked what
I saw.”
“What was that?” I
asked as I felt her excitement increasing with the taboo things coming out of
her mouth. I slowly moved my hands from
her back to her thighs, to her ass cheeks, and then I pulled them, spread them,
and placed my index finger on her special spot.
“They’re so
built,” she said enthusiastically, “so mature.”
“You mean old.”
“Not old.”
“Older than me.”
“Yeah, but in such
good shape.”
“I see,” I said,
knowing where she was going. . . and liking it.
“And so big.”
“Big?” I asked as
I entered her ass with my finger.
“Their cocks. Their balls.
Wearing a Speedo. . .”
She couldn’t
finish her thought. She was cumming and
cumming harder than any of the previous times.
My finger was deep inside her and I could feel her clenching up on it
and releasing multiple times.
When she was done,
all orgasms finally brought to fruition and her body exhausted, she said to me,
“That last orgasm, it felt just like I was riding that boogie board. It felt like I was riding that wave, topless,
the sea carrying me, lifting me, thrilling me, covering me with spume and salt
and sun.”
“Did you cum when
you were out there?”
“I think I might
have, a little bit.”
“You really are a
nymph, fucked by Poseidon himself.”
