Category Archives: camel toe
Smalltown Strumpet – Part IV – Gatekeeper
2
[Continued from Smalltown Strumpet Part III – Flaming Lips]
In my haste to leave the library the previous day, I had not realized that I accidentally left with my pile of research material a lone copy of Match, Cinder & Spark there among the various historical texts.
And I didn’t realize it until. . . well, let me pick up where I left off.
It was Sunday and it was hot! Hot and humid. There was no air conditioning in this country house and we woke up in sopping sheets. Now, granted, some of that moisture may have been from the ice-play the night before. Some of it may have been from whatever antics Lo got up to while I was sleeping – slapping her pussy, masturbating to who-knows-what, and squirting. I have no recollection of anything since it was a king-size bed and I slept like the dead.
All I know is I woke to a sticky, tropical atmosphere and I did not like it.
Lo was asleep, naked, next to me – her fine, round ass in a revelatory and prominent position.
Hot Lola on a hot night
I made some coffee and wondered what the hell we would do in this oppressive heat.
Lo eventually got up and sauntered through the house naked.
“Daddy,” she complained, “I can’t take anything else off to get cool.”
“You could fill up on ice again,” I joked.
“How can you possibly drink that hot coffee in this?”
“I need something to get me up.”
“Doesn’t this do it for you?” she asked, posing seductively.
Would this get you up in the morning?
“That only gets up one appendage and one appetite.”
“Well, it should stimulate your entire being.”
Suddenly we heard a knock.
“What was that?” I asked.
Lo shrugged her shoulders.
Another knock.
“The door?” I asked out loud, walking over to the rarely used front door. Lo followed, naked, filled with curiosity.
I opened the door a crack. A man in his late twenties or early thirties stood on the front steps.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
I saw his eyes dart over my shoulder and attempt to catch a glimpse of my nymph standing in the living room’s shadows and morning light.
“Hi,” he said genially, “I’m Tom. I live across the way, over yonder.” He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.
“Yeah?” I asked, a bit defensive.
“Well, it’s a hot day and we have a pool in the backyard. I was just wondering if you wanted to use it.”
“That’s awfully nice of you, Tom,” I began to say, when Lo ran up behind me and, edging her way next to me, exposing her entire self to Tom and the front yard and the street beyond, she interrupted and said, “That sounds great! We’ll be over in about an hour.”
“Sure thing ma’am. Just walk around the side and let yourself in.”
I closed the door and turned to Lo, who had a very contrite look on her face.
“Lola, do you really think that we are going over there?”
“Yes. Why not, Daddy?”
“You’re going to put on your little dental floss bikini and tan and swim with a bunch of redneck hillbillies?”
She nodded her head up-and-down rapidly.
“It’s hot,” she said, “and I want to get wet.”
After breakfast we walked across the country road – Lo wearing almost nothing at all – and went around the side of the house. There was a gate around the backyard.
“Why do you think they need a gate in these rural parts?” asked Lo.
“It’s the law,” I said. “If you have a pool, you have to gate it in to make sure no little kids accidentally get in, fall in the pool, and drown.”
“Ah, I get it.”
We walked into the enclosed backyard. By the looks of the front of the house, I didn’t expect much, but I was pleasantly surprised by the inground pool and the upkeep of the grounds.
There were five guys, I’d say all in their twenties, standing around, practically drooling when they saw Lo in her bikini. Did I mention that she literally stopped traffic as we crossed the street?
“Hiya!” called Lo, waiving.
“Hi,” they almost grunted back.
“Got a nice cold beverage for a thirsty girl?” she asked. “Make sure it has a straw for me to suck.”
One of the men ran inside and got her something in a tall glass.
“Why you boys so over-dressed?” she asked. They were in shorts and t-shirts.
“What?”
“Get naked,” she said plainly.
They did as she said. They got right down to nothing, revealing the pale white areas that were exact replicas on their skin of the shorts and t-shirts they had just removed.
Their junk hung out and Lo liked what she saw.
She lay down in a lounge chair and spread her legs, hanging them over the sides.
“Isn’t anyone going to offer to apply sunscreen?” she asked, holding out the bottle.
The five guys sprang to it, each taking some lotion and applying it to a limb, leaving one to apply it to Lo’s neck and shoulders. His cock was very close to Lo’s face.
During this whole circus routine with the trained bears, I just stood in the shade of a large oak by the side of the pool. No one even questioned me with a “How you doing?” or “Can I get you anything?”
When Lo was good and greased up, she lay back as the nude men stood around her.
“Well, you just going to stand there, or are you going to get to wanking?”
“What?” asked one of them, not comprehending.
“Jerk off! Put your puds in your palms and start stroking.”
Lo lay back while they formed a circle-jerk for her. That’s just what she enjoys – being the center of attention, the object of affection, the target of ejaculation.
She pressed her tits together in the tiny bikini top.
She allowed first one then the other nipple to peek out of its tight cup.
She pulled up the thin thong between her legs, allowing her meaty pussy to protrude on either side of the taught string. Her flappy folds fell from between her legs, yet her wet hole was obscured by the itty-bitty material nestled up in her nook.
She rolled over and pulled the back of her bikini bottom up high, revealing just about all of her balloon knot, but the spot itself.
Then the gentle tributes began to rain down on her like warm droplets and streams of liquified love.
First one, then two, then all five of the guys were releasing their pent-up power onto her soft and supple skin. She was eager to see it happen in its full glory of the morning sun and she swooped over on her back and caught the remaining orgasmic rush with her tum and tits.
When they were done, she gracefully sat up, licked her lips, walked across the lawn to the pool, and slowly descended into the cool blue water. The pearly patina of the libation bearers floated on the surface of the water, gradually spreading further and further out across the large pool.
“Aren’t you guys going to come in?”
They all dove in right quick. They swam around and close to Lola like she was a rarely seen sea animal who, against impossible odds, was in captivity and available for inspection.
“Aren’t you going to come in, HH?” called Lo from the side of the pool. “It’s warm and wet,” she said quite unambiguously.
“I’ll wait till it’s not quite so crowded,” I responded wryly.
“Suit yourself.”
“More than I can say your suiters have on!”
“Huh? Oh. Funny,” she said, sticking out her tongue and swimming away.
After some frolics in the water, they all got out and someone refreshed Lo’s drink. They sat around naked as the day they were born – except Lo. Ain’t that a twist?
Somebody asked, “Lo, why don’t you take your clothes off?”
“Clothes? Am I wearing clothes?” she asked with her Scarlett voice. Her affectation left zero impression on her audience.
“You sure are.”
“Well, boys, the way I see it, men just want to see only about four to six inches of a woman’s body,” she said, sliding her finger over the skimpy string between her legs, “but a woman is much more than these six inches.”
“You got that right,” said one of the guys. When we all looked towards him to see what he meant by that, he grew silent, apparently lacking comprehension of his own comment.
One of the guys suggested a two-hand-touch football game.
“Sure,” said Lo, “I’ll be goalie. I’m good at goaltending.”
“First of all,” I said, setting her straight, “football doesn’t have a goalkeeper. And second of all, you’ve let a lot of balls in your goal, from what I can tell.”
“No balls! Some logs or sluggers, or whatever you call them.”
“Call what – baseball bats?”
“Yeah!”
“Again, wrong sport.”
“I think you just don’t know what game I’m playing.”
“Touché!” I called.
The guys picked up a football and gave it to Lola. They explained the game and said that she could be on whichever side she wanted.
Lo certainly enjoyed touching those guys with her two hands. It took some more explaining that, though the game is called “two-hand-touch,” that doesn’t mean that Lo’s team gets points every time she touches a man on the other team with both hands. She looked very dismayed at her misunderstanding.
We played a little more and at one point Lo was the quarter back. The other team blitzed and the guy who was guarding Lola reached up and grabbed her tits with his two hands as soon as she said “Hike.”
“Hey!” she called.
“What? You’re down.”
“I know I’m Down, but who said to stop? Try Lo Down,” she said, moving one of his hands to her crotch.
Later Lo was covering one of their receivers and, as the ball was thrown to him, she grabbed him by his dong.
“That’s pass interference!” he cried out after he missed the ball.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“It’s a penalty.”
“Punish me!” she said, turning tail and sticking out her bum for a spanking.
Eventually we got hot again and we all ended up in the pool this time.
“Wasn’t I a great gatekeeper?” she asked me.
“Gatekeeper? I told you Lo, there’s no goalkeeping or goaltending in football.”
“I wasn’t talking about football, I mean not one of these guys has fucked me yet. I’ve been gatekeeping.”
“You want praise for that? It’s COVID times. You know that.”
“Yes, Daddy, praise me.”
“Good girl,” I said with sarcasm, and she rubbed her wet, dark hair up against me like a loving kitten.
But soon our fun and games came to a halt because we heard what sounded like a mob outside.
We got out of the pool and dressed and saw a number of women with signs. It looked like they were picketing the house across the street – the house where Lo and I had been staying.
Turns out that the previous day, when I was at the library and got called away in a hurry by Lo, and I accidentally left my copy of Match, Cinder & Spark behind with the other library books, someone found it. I’m not sure exactly how it went down, but my guess is this person who found it read a little of it, but then he or she put it on the small table in the entryway of the library, and displayed it with the other “new acquisitions” books. So, there it sat, prominently. Who knows how many people saw it, picked it up, read it? But eventually it caught the attention of some busy-body do-gooder who promptly called a meeting of like-minded people and, after church on this particular Sunday morning, they organized a protest against Lola Down. Word had spread through the town as to where we were staying and so women showed up in droves to protest the smalltown strumpet!
Anti-Lola
Apparently, they were against pornography, but not just that, they were against the use of “perfect women” in pornography. One housewife displayed her sign calling for banning our books in the libraries, but she was protesting in the buff. I guess she was trying to make a confused point about “real bodies.”
Pro-Lo
To my surprise, however, there was a counter-protest of women in support of Lola. They were certainly in the minority, but they praised Lola as the champion of fifth-wave feminism.
It was a Lo Down showdown and we were caught in the middle. The only fortunate thing was that no one who had come out to protest knew that we were across the street from the house where they were congregated.
The police showed up, the local news showed up, even the county judge showed up! In a small town like this, any commotion creates a snowball effect. The crowd was growing through curiosity and also people eager to see tits.
Lola on the News
“What are we going to do?” asked Lo, looking out the front window. “Oh shit!” she said.
“What?” asked one of the guys.
“That huge guy, the bouncer from the strip club, he’s walking right up to your front door!”
There were a loud three knocks at the door and one of the guys inside opened it up cautiously.
“You made it!” he called out, “and not a moment too soon!”
The bouncer walked in and said, “What the hell is happening across the street?”
We filled him in. He had been invited to join the Lola Show by the owner of the house, but he ended up saving Lo’s sexy ass by leading her out the back door, putting her on an ATV and disappearing into a wooded trail, leaving me with the five guys and the angry mob. I was quite worried. All I saw was her cute little rear, triangulated by the three lines of her thong bikini bottom as she held on tightly to the bouncer, and the two of them bounced their way into the thicket.
“Got a second ATV?” I asked, pathetically.
Lola was whisked off over the hills and through the woods to. . . the strip club. It was Sunday morning and, per the town’s regulations, there is no stripping allowed on the Lord’s day.
He brought her into the vacant establishment of disrepute and offered her a drink.
“Sure,” she said.
“Sorry I had to throw you out of the joint the other day. I was just doing my job.”
“I understand.”
Lola felt like little Hermione Granger in the hut of Hagrid.
Hagrid placed a potent potion in front of Hermione and she took a few sips, looked up at his hulking figure, and smiled just a little.
“Heap a trouble you got yourself into.”
“The power of my pussy is truly amazing to me.”
“Girls dancing here all day, all night, and you come to town for a few days and suddenly you’d think the gates of hell had swung open.”
“I prefer to think of them as the pearly gates to heaven,” said Lo. “Would you like to see?” She asked, looking over at the empty stage.
“My own personal show?”
“Yeah. Can you put on some music?”
“What would you like to hear?”
“Got any Rihanna?”
“Anything you want.”
“How about ‘Love on the Brain’?”
Hagrid put it on. As the lyrics echoed in the empty hall, “What you want from me? What you want from me?” Lo swerved and shimmied on the stage, slipping this way and that like an Asklepion serpent.
“You’re good enough to work here,” said Hagrid.
“Thanks,” said Lo. “There was a time when I really wanted to do it, either professionally or just for fun.”
“What happened?”
“I went to an amateur night and the management treated me and the other girls so disrespectfully that I swore I’d never go back.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. We’d treat you right.”
“Oh yeah? How would you treat me?” asked Lo as she sat on the edge of the stage, her legs spread.
Hagrid was unfazed. He works in a strip club.
It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good
And I can’t get enough
Must be love on the brain.
The music continued and Lo slapped her pussy to the beat. Hagrid looked on as he poured some beer for both of them.
“We treat the girls right. I can assure you of that.”
Lo turned over onto all fours and began stroking her ass. Over her shoulder she asked, “I’d like to believe that.”
“Believe it,” said Hagrid as he placed one beer on the table in front of him and one on the stage for Lo. “My younger sister strips here.”
“What?! No way?”
“It’s true,” he said, taking a sip, which left a foam line on his mustache.
“She doesn’t have a problem with you working here?” asked Lo as she sat next to Hagrid and had some beer.
“Why should she?” he asked, naively.
“Well, I mean, she’s your sister.”
“Whatever,” he said. “I see her naked and more at home.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“She brings guys home from the bar. . . and women too.”
“Really?”
“She likes to strut around naked, teasing them, when I’m home.”
“You both live with your parents?”
“No, we have an apartment together.”
“You. . . and your sister. . . live together?”
“Yeah. Cheaper that way.”
“And she fucks guys in the apartment?”
“All the time. And women.”
“In her room?”
“In her room, with the door open. In the living room. In the kitchen. It doesn’t really matter to her.”
“I’ve got to meet this woman!”
“You already have.”
“What?!”
“Yeah. The skanky stripper who was trying to eat you out when I threw you and your man outta here.”
“She’s your sister?!”
“Yep.”
Hagrid looked at his phone.
“Well, you’re in luck,” he said, looking up at Lo.
“How’s that?”
“She just texted me and said the guys dropped your man off at our apartment.”
“What?! We gotta get over there!” said Lo, frantic that while she spent time dirty dancing for Hagrid, Hagrid’s little sister might be trying to bed her ole man. Double standard? You better believe it.
Hagrid and Lo arrived just as I was explaining to the little sister why I had to be smuggled to their apartment like a fugitive from justice.
Lo strutted in after Hagrid’s big bouncer body filled the frame of the door.
“You!” said the little sister.
“You!” said Lo right back at her. It was like, how do they say it, when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? But in this case, it was an insatiable slut meets a nymphomaniacal tramp. Who is who? Does it matter?
Hagrid’s sister, let’s call her Luna Lovegood for convenience, was wearing just her pink heart panties and a ratty old t-shirt, no bra.
Luna Lovegood/Evanna Lynch
The guy from the across the street, Tom, was with me. He had hid me in the back seat of his old Buick and got me to Hagrid and Luna’s place without drawing the attention of the mob.
“Jesus, Luna, put some clothes on for fuck’s sake,” demanded Hagrid.
“Why?” she asked, leaning over me and letting me see down her t-shirt. “They’ve all seen me naked anyway.”
Evanna Lynch
“Whatever,” said Hagrid.
Evanna Lynch
The apartment was more just a three room shack than an apartment. It had two bedrooms off of the main kitchen/living room. The walls were paper thin and looked like they’d fall down if someone sneezed too loudly. The living room had a drab, dirty, worn green carpet with an old, ratty couch. The kitchen had dirty grey linoleum tiles from the middle of the last century and a tiny table with three chairs around it. There was a large, flatscreen TV that hung unevenly on the wall of the living room and looked out of place among all the decrepit furniture and peeling paint.
On the wall was one calendar – out of date already – issued by the strip club and with a photo of Luna nude, spreading her legs with the stripper pole blocking sight of her slit, her tits visible on either side of the pole.
“Do you want to fuck me?” Luna asked me, point blank.
“No, he doesn’t want to fuck you,” inserted Lo.
“Can’t he speak for himself?” asked Luna. “He’s a grown man.”
“If he’s going to fuck anyone around here, it will be me,” she said defiantly.
I sort of liked the attention and having the two women fight over me.
“Why is the town all up in arms about Lola when Luna lives here?”
“What does it mean to be ‘all up in arms’?” asked Lo in her little girl voice that she knows turns me on.
“Play your cards right and I’ll show you tonight,” I said.
“You’re such a pervert – that’s what I love about you,” she said, sitting on my lap and kissing me.
“They don’t give a shit about her,” said Hagrid, nodding at Luna, “because she grew up here. They know her. They know all about her. To them, she’s just more white trash in a town full of white trash.”
“Fuck you!” said Luna, grabbing her handle of vodka and taking a swig. Mind you, it was early afternoon on a Sunday.
“But you,” said Hagrid, undeterred by Luna and talking to Lola, “Your white ass has class. You’re from the city. You’re not from around here.”
“I’d like to have some of her white meat,” said Tom. “Her chicken tenders look delicious.”
“It might be white,” said Hagrid as he put on a pot of coffee, “but it ain’t tight.”
“Hey,” said Lola, “don’t judge a pussy by its possessor.”
“Well, is it tight?” asked Tom.
I played dumb. Lo spread her legs. Anyone could see her pussy flaps falling on either side of the thong.
She pulled at them with both hands. “It’s accommodating.”
“That’s one word for it,” said Tom.
“Look,” said Luna, “if you want some real pussy. . .”
“Real skank pussy,” interrupted Hagrid.
“You can have it,” continued Luna. “Right here,” she said, rubbing her pussy over her shorts.
“OK,” said Tom, dumbly.
“Do you have to fuck every damn friend I bring here?!” bellowed Hagrid at Luna.
Luna put out her hand. “A hundred.”
“What?!”
“It will cost you. One Benjamin.”
“Seriously?”
“I don’t give it away for free, you know.”
“Yes she does,” said Hagrid, getting a couple of coffee mugs from the cabinet.
“Fuck you!” yelled Luna at her brother, “This is our rent, asshole.”
“I don’t have a hundred.”
“What do you have?”
He pulled out his wallet. He opened it. He looked in. “A twenty.”
Luna reached into his wallet and pulled out the twenty before he even knew what happened. “It’s a deal.”
Luna stuffed the twenty in her jeans shorts and took the guy by the hand into her bedroom.
Lo, Hagrid, and I were left in the kitchen. The coffee maker sputtered indicating it was brewed.
“Coffee?” offered Hagrid.
“Sure,” I said.
“Got anything to eat?” asked Lo.
Hagrid looked in the fridge, in the cupboard, and finally said, “I got these crackers and some cheese.”
“Perfect,” said Lo.
As Hagrid was preparing the cheddar and a plate of crackers, we could all hear Luna saying, “Yes, yes, yes,” in the other room, coinciding with what sounded like the slam of a bureau against a wall in rhythm with her affirmations. The wall to her bedroom was literally shaking with each thump.
“Is it like this a lot?” I asked.
“Pretty much every night she dances.”
“I guess she’s gotta pull her weight for rent.”
Hagrid laughed a little. “You saw how little she weighs. She barely pulls that weight. All her money goes to that,” he said, indicating the handle of vodka. “And drugs.”
“That’s too bad.”
Hagrid just shrugged his wide shoulders as if I had said that it’s too bad it gets dark so early. It’s out of his control.
“But the village vice squad leaves her alone?” I inquired.
“Like I said, she’s a known bad apple. Lo here, she’s. . .”
“I’m more of a juicy peach,” Lo said.
“Or nectarine,” I said, indicating her smoothly shaven puss.
“The sweetest nectarine you ever tasted.”
“Fuck! Fuck! Jeeezuuus, fuck!” we heard Luna from the other room screaming.
“When do you think it will be safe to get back to. . .” I started to ask just as the walls began shaking like it was an earthquake. The door to Luna’s bedroom opened and she stood in the doorway, bent over, getting it from behind.
“Will one of you get me a glass of water?” she asked. Her hair was matted to her forehead with sweat. “I just squirted and I’m so thirsty.” It was hot in that shack. No AC.
“She’s thirsty alright,” muttered Hagrid.
Lo got up and got a grungy glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water from the tap. She brought it to Luna who stood naked with Tom’s hands covering her tits as he rammed it home from behind.
Luna downed it in one gulp. “More,” she said. Was she talking to Lo or Tom?
Lo filled up the glass again.
“This guy’s getting every cent of his twenty bucks worth,” she said before drinking the second glass.
She handed the glass back to Lo and propped herself up by bracing her hands in the doorway.
“He’s goo-oooo-ooo-ood,” she said to Lo. Her “good” was drawn out and had bumps in its tone as she was rammed hard from behind.
“I’m good,” said Lo, laughing a bit.
“Shut the damn door,” cried Hagrid, exasperated.
Luna just gave him her middle finger.
“Fuck my ass,” she said over her shoulder. It seemed she said it just to piss off her brother.
“The condom fell off as I pulled out,” Tom said to her. “It’s still in you.”
“Forget the condom. Fuck my ass.”
“I don’t have another one.”
“FUCK. MY. ASS.”
The three of us slowly sipped our coffee as Luna got it up the ass in the doorway.
“What were you saying?” asked Hagrid.
“Oh, I was wondering when you think it will be safe for us to get out of here.”
“We could do a drive-by now and check it out.”
“ATV or. . . ?”
“We’ll take my pickup truck.”
“Wait!” said Luna. “I want to go with you.”
The guy behind her was still fucking her ass.
“There’s no room,” said Hagrid.
“It’s big enough for everyone to fit in,” she said without irony.
“Why would I take you?” asked Hagrid.
“Because, I want to go.”
“You’re busy, right now, earning rent.”
Luna looked over her shoulder, shut her eyes, and appeared to be focusing on performing some sort of Jedi mind trick.
Suddenly the guy behind her was cumming and cooing and cumming and calling out for the Jesus.
“Works every time,” said Luna.
“What does?” asked Lo.
“I have incredible control over my sphincter.”
Luna pulled forward, turned, got on her knees, and took Tom’s cock in her mouth. I couldn’t help but think, “Wow! What a Lola move!”
When Luna was done cleaning him off, Luna put on some raggedy clothes and the four of us piled into the tiny back seat of the pickup truck.
Why were all of us in the back seat? Hagrid was driving and in the passenger seat was his giant Great Dane, sitting regally with the window open, surveying the landscape as we drove.
Lo sat on my lap and Luna on the other guy’s lap. Lo’s and Luna’s legs were touching.
“I really liked what I saw of you in the club,” said Luna, rubbing her hand up Lo’s thigh.
“Cut it out, whore!” called Hagrid from the front.
“Fuck you!” said Luna.
Luna spread her legs. Lo could see the tight shorts stained with wetness from the cum leaking out of her ass. Luna unbuttoned the shorts and unzipped them. She reached down and appeared to be finger-fucking herself. But then she pulled out her hand.
“There it is!” she cried, displaying the recovered condom. She tossed it out the window with a laugh.
We got to the house and the angry mob had moved on.
“Thanks so much,” I said to Hagrid.
“No problem. Get outta town while you can,” he cautioned.
“Will do!”
“Thanks! Thanks for everything,” said Lo to everyone in the truck.
“Bye!” called Luna, to Lola, as she flashed her tits. “Stay slutty!”
“You know I will!”
Lo and I waisted no time packing up, writing a little note to my friend John, and getting the hell out of Dodge.
The End
Lola Down – Cover Girl
Smalltown Strumpet – A Room with a View
Part I – A Room with a View
Book Cover, Excerpt
How do you like the view?
My friend John has a large house out in the woods. After fifteen months of COVID lockdown, he and his family were eager to get out and go on a vacation. He called me up one day and asked if Lo and I would be interested in a house swap. We’d get to use his country farmhouse and they’d get to stay in the city at our apartment. Lo was game. A weeklong vacation in June sounded good to her. “We’ll have a love-fest,” she said, licking her lips.
“When you say it, it sounds like a sextival.”
“Yes, that does sound better!” She looked off into the distance. “Imagine,” she said, “Merry-go-arounds, Ferris wheels, haunted houses – all for sexual variety.”
“Don’t forget the fun we could have with cotton candy.”
“We could do that at home.”
“The only downside to this swap is that John had asked if I would install a couple of windows in their kitchen so they could look out on the front lawn when doing dishes.”
John, though very skilled, knows that I worked as a carpenter in my twenties. He preferred that I do the window framing because he was concerned his amateurish abilities would lead to leaks and other problems.
“Do I have to help you?” asked Lo.
“No, I don’t think I’ll need help.”
“Well, then it sounds like a great plan to me!”
We arrived Friday night and Lo made an excellent meal with the provisions John had left for us. As a token of his gratitude, he left a very expensive bottle of Scotch for me.
The next day was sunny and warm. In fact, that was the forecast for the whole week. I was glad for it, since it meant I wouldn’t have to worry about the weather while I cut a hole in the wall of the house, framed out the windows, installed them, and then did the finish-work on the outside and inside.
As I was arranging my tools for the job, Lo came downstairs in a skimpy bikini.
“And where are you going?” I asked her.
“To tan.”
“Where?” I asked.
“Right there,” she said, pointing to the front lawn. The backyard was basically woods. The front lawn was flat and open, but the house was on a fairly busy street – busy for the country, that is. Cars were constantly driving by – maybe one or two a minute.
“Lo, are you seriously going to suntan like that?”
“Like what?”
“Wearing that thong bikini.”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because. . . because, uh, your pussy lips.”
“What about my pussy lips?”
“They’re too big for that thong. They’re hanging out and over, flapping on either side of it.”
String Thong
“So?”
“What do you mean ‘so’?”
“I mean, bikinis are meant to accentuate the positive.”
“And you have positively large, long, and loose pussy lips.”
“I prefer to think of them as limber,” she said, pulling at her labia to show me their elasticity.
“Call them limber, call them lithe, call them labia-lobes, I don’t care what you call them, they are flopping in the wind, exposed.”
“Since when have you become such a prude?”
“Suit yourself.”
“That’s exactly what I’ll do. And I fully expect to find many suitors at the beach this summer.”
“I’m sure that they will expect to fill you too.”
“The more meat between these thighs the better!”
“Well, need I remind you, this is not the beach. We’re in a rural town in the sticks and you’ll be flashing your wares on the front lawn. I wouldn’t be surprised if the village vice squad slapped a fine right on your ass.”
“I bet they’d like to touch this fine ass too!” she said, turning tail and walking out the front door. I could see the silhouette of her labia in her thigh gap as she strutted away. I watched as she set up her lounge chair on the lawn, close enough to the road for everyone to get a good look. She purposefully spread her legs as she adjusted her bikini top. Cars were slowing down as they drove by, in order to get a closer look.
I watched her for a bit before taking a drill to the wall and cutting a hole right through to the exterior.
“Hey Lo,” I called across the front lawn.
She turned around.
“Come here, I want to show you something.”
She didn’t look pleased that I was interrupting her exhibitionism, I mean relaxation. She sauntered across the lawn, flaunting her ass in the thong to the throngs of people in the street. At least in her mind that was what she was doing. In reality, cars were passing by at their usual rate.
“This better be good,” she said.
“Look,” I said, pointing to the circle I had cut in the wall.
“What is it?”
“Well, it’s the bottom left corner of where the window is going to go. I’ll use the Sawzall to cut out the rectangle, but that’s what I’ve done so far.”
“Are you going to have me praise each and every step of your progress?”
“No, I just thought you’d want to see it because right now it could double as a glory hole.”
“Not for you it couldn’t. That wall has to be at least eight inches thick.”
Deflated, I said, “You may return to your previous position as lawn ornament.”
I pulled out the Sawzall and recalled how a while back Lo and I looked into converting reciprocating saws into sex machines. We ultimately passed on the idea because, after a bit of research, we found that a number of women had sustained serious injuries from the DIY project.
I cut through the wall and hung a tarp over it. That was enough work for one day.
I went to the front porch, opened a cold beer, and watched as Lola played the part of town strumpet for the passersby.
The next day I had to frame the rough cutout I had made. I measured twice to insure cutting once.
With the three-by-six foot gaping hole in the wall, I had a direct view of my little Lo as she allowed her slightly smaller gaping hole be on display in the front yard. She wore the same bikini as the day before and today promised to be a repeat performance.
However, word must have spread among the locals, for now there was pedestrian traffic whereas yesterday there was none. This is a town without sidewalks, mind you. People – excuse me – men had to go out of their way to stroll casually down the street as if they were on an errand. No such errand existed because there was nowhere to go.
One of the men, wearing overalls no less, stopped to ask if John was home.
“Nope,” said Lo, looking him up and down over the top of her dark sunglasses.
“His wife home?” asked the gentleman.
“Nope.”
“Anyone home?”
“Just me and my ole man,” said Lo, pointing her thumb in my direction.
At a loss, the overalls observer moseyed his merry way down the street.
A half hour later another voyeur just happened to be passing by. He was a little more clever than the first one. He politely asked Lo if she might have a glass of water for him on this brutally warm day. This had the desired effect of getting Lo up and letting her strut her way across the lawn back to the house to fetch him some water.
He drank it in one swig, all the while looking Lo over from head to toe.
“Thank you,” he said, realizing his reason for standing there was no longer valid.
I swear, Lo should have been collecting admission fees!
You would think not a single man in this town ever saw a sexy woman.
The third day I was all set to lift the window into the frame and secure it. To my great astonishment, a friendly neighbor came over to offer me some help. He was in his early twenties and he spoke to Lo, who was again lying out in front, first, asking if I wanted a hand with the window.
She directed him my way. I said I’d be happy to have another man help me ease it in and hold it there while I leveled it all out before screwing it in good. I do believe he was eager to do all those things, just not with the window.
He assisted me in the task which took only a quarter of an hour and then he asked if I needed help with anything else. I told him I was all set. The rest was just finishing work I could do myself.
He said he’d get going and he walked up to Lo to say goodbye (and take one more good look at her).
She looked at him over her glasses and said, “Like what you see?”
“Yes, yes I do,” he said.
“You hard?”
“No, not right now.”
“Get hard,” she said.
“What?”
“Get hard and jack off.”
“Here?”
“To me. I like that.”
“Here?” he repeated.
“Where else?” she asked. “I’m sitting here ain’t I?”
“Yes, but.”
“You can keep it in your pants. Just let me see the cum stain when you’re done.”
He reached in his pockets with both hands and, watching her lying there, her meaty mound surrounding the thin thong, and he came within a few minutes.
“Good boy,” said Lo. “Feel better?”
“I can hardly walk, but yeah.”
“Don’t tell anyone about this, ok? It’s our little secret.”
“Sure. See you later,” he said as he hobbled away.
I brought her a cold drink once he was out of eyeshot and she looked up at me, accepting it as if she had ordered it from a cabana boy, and said, “Still got it.”
I should tell you, dear reader, that each and every night, after her hours of daytime display, Lo would be hungry for my cock. Being away from home and her toy chest, she used me to the full extent of my abilities which, as always, was not nearly enough for her. Those nights, I saw her fuck: a broom handle, a bedpost, and a shampoo bottle. None of this is new. I’ve seen it all before, just not in rapid sequence. The retreat to the country was like a recharge of her sexual energy.
“How about tomorrow we go to town and explore a little?” I asked. “I’m nearly done with the window. I can take a day off.”
The next day, instead of Lo donning her microbikini and me sweating away at the carpentry, we put on our rural regalia and ventured out to taste the local flavor. Apropos of the occasion, Lo was wearing her “Daisy Dukes” and a little flannel shirt. She tied the bottom front corners of the shirt into a bow in order to display her midriff. She looked sweet walking down the street in the sunlight. We hit up the nick-nack stores, the antique shop, the bookstore (of course) and grabbed some lunch followed by ice cream.
She got some long stares from passersby on the sidewalk and in the boutiques. In the early afternoon, as we were cruising around the countryside just taking it all in, what should we espy on a desolate corner but the local strip club.
It was COVID times, so the establishment had converted a large part of the rear parking lot into a fenced off cabaret. There was a roughly constructed stage of two-by-fours and plywood, a few small tables and chairs set up for the patrons, and scantily-clad waitresses running drinks from the bar inside to the thirsty men outside.
They were all men, except Lo. Did they think Lo was a stripper when she walked in with me? I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.
We sat down at a table and ordered a couple of beers. We watched the ladies of the hamlet dance and, if I’m being honest, they couldn’t hold a candle to Lo’s flame. The men were intrigued by the female foreigner in their midst and eyed Lo more than they eyed the day’s entertainment. Lo knew it too. She nudged my arm for me to observe the attention she was getting and then nodded in the general direction of the fence where, in handwritten scrawl, a sign was posted that said, “NO MASTURBATING.”
I know the question that was going through Lo’s mind at that moment: Does that apply to women too?
I saw her reach down and undo the button on her shorts, reach her right hand down under them and under her panties (if she was wearing panties), and saw the outline of her small hand rubbing her mons pubis. It made a bulge in the front of her shorts as her bare legs were spread wide and she watched the women on the stage in various states of undress. Her head fell back, her mouth opened just a bit.
Lola outside, short-shorts
To Be Continued. . .
The Many Moods of Monday Morning
Monday morning. 4 am. Lo wakes me up by fucking herself with her glass dildo and Hitachi Magic Wand. “Must you do that now?” I ask, irritated.
“Well, I wouldn’t have to do it if you’d fuck me at night, but you just went to sleep after getting in bed – like sleep is what the bed is made for!”
“Don’t blame your nymphomania on me. You’re like Buzz Lightyear over there, masturbating to infinity and beyond!”
“Yeah, well, from the looks of things, you’re like Woody over there. What’s that popping up under the covers?”
It’s true, I often wake up with a raging hard-on.
“I had crazy sex dreams all night,” she says, more sweetly.
“Really?” I ask from my own dreamlike state. “Tell me about them.”
She tells me about how she dreamed about sex with a guy from work. “I told him I want him to be with me in the biblical sense.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“What’s not?”
“To ‘be’ together in the biblical sense. The saying is, ‘to know one another in the biblical sense.’”
“Well, I want to be together with him – in an existential sense.”
“Why do you think you were dreaming that?”
“Because you were groping me all night.”
“That’s impossible. I slept like I was hit by a bus.”
“Well, groping while sleeping is one of your natural talents.”
“I have many natural and unnatural talents.”
“What are you going to do with that?” she asks, looking down at my rock-hard shaft.
“I’m going to suffer with it. It’s my half-a-cross to bear.”
“Well, don’t get any ideas, I’m getting up,” she says as she pulls out her dildo and rests it on her nightstand.
“So am I,” I say, removing the covers, looking down at my phallus standing at attention.
A good erection is not to be wasted, I suppose, so instead of getting out of bed, she climbs up on my morning wood and eases herself down onto it.
When I don’t meet her descending motion with a thrust upward, she asks, “What’s the matter?”
“You’re using me,” I respond.
“Only for your body.”
“Oh, well, in that case then it’s ok.”
Within seconds she is gushing all over my hips. She climbs off my body and collapses into the bed, eyes closed.
“Are you sleeping?” I ask, incredulously.
“Shhhhh,” is all she manages to respond as she drifts off back to dreamland leaving me hard-up at 4:10 in the a.m.
There’s no going back to sleep for me and I look at her peaceful face.
“Just jack it like any other guy would,” she mutters.
I get out of bed and do what I always do with my sexual energy – channel it into a good story.
A couple of hours later my phone buzzes. “Come,” she texts from the bedroom.
I follow her command.
As I enter the bedroom, I find her naked, legs spread, fingers caressing between her glistening pussy lips. I sit down gingerly beside her. She looks up at me. Her hair is a mess.
“What time did you come to bed?” she asks.
“When?”
“Whenever you came to bed.”
Not knowing if she was speaking about last night or this morning, I reply, “Just now.”
“Did I give you a handjob?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“Why?” I ask, curious.
“I had a dream that I did.”
Her left hand is already fondling my hard cock over my pj bottoms.
“Take it out,” she commands.
I take it out for her to hold. “Do you want to make your dream come true?” I ask.
She doesn’t bother to answer. She is already stroking it with her left hand and stroking herself with her right. Her eyes are closed as if continuing her dream. Within mere moments she cums again, and falls back to sleep, leaving me hard-up for a second time.
I hop in the shower and then get dressed for work figuring that it’s just not my morning.
A few minutes after I leave the bedroom to have a cup of coffee, Lola walks into the kitchen. I can tell just by her footfall that she’s upset. Without a “hello” or “good morning,” she launches into a tirade.
“I’m so pissed,” she says.
“Why?”
“I just am. My computer sucks, my schedule sucks, everything just sucks.”
“Do you want to go fuck it out?” I ask, hoping that I might finally release the tension between my legs.
“I thought you’d never ask!”
We return to the bedroom to have sex. I slip out of my pants, but leave on my shirt. I’m still horny from not cumming earlier in the morning and I figure this will be quick and fun. But this time, she isn’t reaching orgasm like she did earlier. She takes out her Hitachi and puts it on her clit and it vibrates between our bodies. After only a few minutes she switches it off and stops her motions. “It’s not working. I think I’m broken.”
“What?”
“I’m not cumming. I think I’m broken.”
“Lo, you had at least two or three orgasms already this morning!”
“Orgasms are like football, it doesn’t matter if you won your last ten games, the only game that matters is this one.”
“You don’t even like football.”
“So? It still holds true.”
“You’re just thinking about all you have to do today.”
“Yeah, but I always cum.”
I get up.
“Where are you going?”
“To make breakfast. Do you want some?’
“No. I’m going to keep trying ʼtil I cum. Everyone has to have goals.”
Two minutes later she’s walking naked into the kitchen.
“That was fast.”
“And how! What’s for breakfast?”
After breakfast I say, “Well, Darlin’, I have to go to work.”
“You’re not wearing any pants!”
“It’s underwear Wednesday.”
“It’s not Wednesday, it’s Monday,” she corrects me.
“I plan my outfits ahead of time.”
“And don’t you mean Wonderwear Wednsday, as in, I wonder where my pants are?”
“Yeah.”
I go to the bedroom and put on my pants. She follows me.
“You can’t go out in those pants!” she gasps.
“I could take them off, but I’d catch a breeze.”
“No no no. I mean, I can see every line and curve of your cock clear as day through those.”
“Well, that never stopped you from wearing your yoga pants in public, now did it?”
“What are you talking about?” she asks defensively.
“As if you were unaware of your camel-toe.”
“Phhh,” she says, dismissively while staring at my crotch. “That thing is huge in there! Sheesh, you’ll scare your secretary.”
“Is that what you’re afraid of, or are you afraid she’ll get the same look in her eye that you have now?”
“Shut up. You cannot go to work like that. It’s bad enough that you have a young female secretary. Now pull it out.”
“But Lo, I have only like three minutes to get going!”
She gets on her knees and unzips my fly, pulling out my cock. But she also continues her rant. “I’m just doing a public service. If you go to work like this, then you’re just contributing to the misogynistic, patriarchal, intersectional systems of oppression.”
“Wow, that’s a mouthful.”
“You’re also a mouthful,” she says as she goes down on me.
“Are you doing a public service or do you wish to service the public?”
She pauses in her fellatio and looks to say, “Please don’t make bad puns while I have your cock in my mouth.”
With merely the gentle touch of her lips on the tip of my cock and the beautiful view of her on her knees, I finally cum. So quick, so unexpected, and so much that it spews all over her face, neck, and tits. She looks up at me and says in astonishment, “That was a hot surprise!”
“Sounds like a special in a restaurant.”
“It’s a plate best served horny.”
“So,” I ask, “what do you want to do with the remaining two and a half minutes I have?”
Suddenly she notices something and looks up at me with a scowl. “You came all over my hair! How did you do that?”
“That’s one of my natural talents.”
“And you came in like five seconds.”
“That’s one of my unnatural talents.”
“Did you like it?” she asks.
“I loved it,” I say, “but I’m so sleepy now.”
“Yeah, because you were groping me all night.”
“Impossible! I slept like a rock.”
“You said you slept like you were hit by a bus.”
“Like a rock that was hit by a bus.”
“Where are you going all dressed up?” she asks after I zip up.
“I have a date.”
“With whom?”
“With destiny.”
“Who is she, I’ll tear her apart!”
“She’s a fickle woman who always gets her way.”
A few moments later, Lola appears in the living room, miraculously all dressed and ready to go to work. She’s wearing a pearl necklace.
“That’s pretty I say.”
“This?” she asks, holding the necklace. “It’s my second pearl necklace of the day!”
“Very funny,” I say.
She leans in to kiss me goodbye before we both leave. “You’ll be home at 11:00 to fuck?” I ask.
“Yeah. Will you be here?”
“Let me check my schedule to see if you can fit me in,” I reply.
“Darling, I could fit way more than you in.”
“Then I’ll bring a few friends.”
“Just be here at eleven. I’ll supply the extras.”
[Art by JoKoss)
Bigger, Harder, Longer
Carrying a mug of coffee, I walk in on her just as she is squirting, pulling the Hitachi away from her clit. Her hands scrunch up the sheets under her and her legs are spread. Her head lifts and her breasts heave as she breathes quick breaths, screaming, “Oh Fuck! Oh FUCK! OH Fuuuuck!!!” She looks over at me and says, “Don’t just stand there, get me a towel!” I do so.
“I just came to tell you breakfast is ready.”
“Thanks for the coffee, Daddio!”
“When you’re ready, I’ll see you at the breakfast table.”
“But you didn’t kiss me good morning.”
“Yes I did.”
“No you didn’t.”
“I did – all night long.”
“Yeah. I had to punch you to get you to stop and let me sleep.”
“Well, those were your good morning kisses.”
“I want one now.”
I lean over to kiss her good morning. She lets me kiss her on the lips before pushing my head down between her legs. “I meant there,” she says.
“Lo, I’m not going to eat you out before I eat breakfast. It’s on the table getting cold!”
“Just one kiss, Daddio. Please.”
I indulge her. One kiss turns to a full-on tongue-fuck-fest of every area between her legs from the small of her back to her bellybutton. Luckily she cums quickly. I pull back and go into the bathroom to splash water on my face. Her juices have a way of soaking my beard and mustache. I look up, into the vanity mirror over the sink and see her preparing to pound herself with a dildo.
“OK, that does it!” I call to her. “I’m just going to throw out the breakfast I made.”
“No, Daddio, I’ll be there in. . .” Her words trail off as she becomes preoccupied with the instrumental manipulation of her puss.
I walk out of the bedroom, my hard-on leading the way. I sit down at the breakfast table alone and eat the luke-warm eggs and toast while I hear her sing-song voice of oohs and ahs crescendo from the bedroom.
When we’re both done, I stand up, put my plate and glass in the sink and I bring her her breakfast on a tray.
“Oh, breakfast in bed!” she squeals, leaning over to put her toys away safely stashed under the bed.
“If Mohammed won’t come to the mountain, then the mountain will come to Mohammed.”
“Daddy, I’ll cum to anything.”
“Don’t I know it! What did you cum to today?”
“I’m sorry Daddy,” she says, looking guilty.
“Why? Because you let your eggs and toast get cold?”
She shakes her head, no.
“What is it then? That you used my mouth, but kept all the orgasms to yourself?”
Again she shakes her head in the negative. Keeping orgasms to herself gives her no guilt.
“Then what?”
She passes her phone to me. I look at it. It’s a photo of a giant black cock.
“A friend of yours?”
“Not yet, but I hope someday.”
“Who is it?”
“Just a fan.”
“A fan of your pics, not my writing I assume.”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask him about it.”
“What’s he have to say for himself?”
“I don’t know. He just sent me this pic and. . .”
“And it’s got you all preoccupied.”
She shook her head yes with a guilty look on her face. “I want it, Daddy!” she said like a girl asking for a big lollipop at the circus.
I turn to leave the bedroom.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“To do the dishes.”
“I’ll do it!”
“No, I’ll do it. I don’t like the way you do it. Besides, you have to eat your cold breakfast.”
“Why do you wish to maintain control all the time?”
“It’s not a matter of retaining control. It’s a matter of maintaining standards.”
“You have so many standards. Double standards.”
“I only have one standard. . . the best.”
“That’s my line,” she says, followed by, “but, if you’re speaking about me, then go on.”
I finally walk out the bedroom into the kitchen. As I’m in the midst of putting dishes into the dishwasher, Lo saunters up to the entrance of the kitchen naked as the day she was born, she turns to me and says, “Are you jealous?” She’s always trying to get me jealous, to no avail.
“Lo, you’re standing right where the neighbors can see you through the window, you know.”
“Does that make you jealous?”
“No. But it may make the neighbor’s wife jealous!”
“Phhh,” she sounds dismissively, bending over to give the neighbor a more explicit view. As she’s bent over, she says, “I’m just a hotwife with an exhibitionist’s streak and a loving man who can use his fingers to type out stories that make people come back for more.”
“I don’t think your big friend was coming back for my writing.”
“Well, I can’t help it if behind every good nympho is a line of men waiting to fuck her and behind every bad nympho is a longer line.”
“Which one are you?”
“Fuck me, Daddy, and you’ll see.”
“No, Lo, I already know. I was just testing to see if you would admit to it.”
“The line behind me is very long, very hard,” she says as she reaches over and grabs my cock.
“That doesn’t make sense. How is the line hard?”
“Fuck me and I’ll show you.”
She bends over, this time with her rear towards me rather than toward the window.
“Are you still doing the same old thing?” I ask.
“You mean you?” she asks, looking at me from between her legs.
“Very funny. This ‘old thing’ is going to work.”
“Work on me!”
“Didn’t I make you cum this morning? – and you squirted all over me and the bed!”
“That was a drop in the bucket.”
She wiggles her ass, like she’s playing charades. So I guess, “You’re horny.”
She sees the bulge in my khakis. “And you want me.”
“Yes, Lo. I always want you. But sometimes I have to actually go to work.” I walk over to her and give her wiggling bum a good smack.
“Mmmmm,” she moans, “again!”
I repeat.
“I love spankings,” she says, “they’re like applause, but on my ass! Let me hear how much you like my ass.”
I ‘applaud’ her five or six times. But I do no more than applaud. I then walk out of the kitchen.
“But Daddy,” I hear her call down the hallway, “what about my encore!”
I leave the house and go to work, but on my way home that afternoon, I stop and run a special errand for Lo. For a while now I’ve wanted to try a cock sleeve. I run into my local adult toy shop and peruse the possibilities. After a careful review, I decide on one that is a total of 11 inches, dark brown in complexion, very realistic, and best of all, has a ring to wrap around my balls to anchor the sleeve in place.
Back at home I find that Lo has invited a few people over for a little get-together. Unaware that we were expecting company, I have to find a way of sneaking the rather large box in the house inconspicuously. I decide to pop my head in, say hello to the guests, and declare that we need some more beer. I run out to the local store and pick up a six-pack. I throw the toy in the plain brown bag and rush in, crossing my fingers that no one stops me on the way.
They are all in the living room and I call out, “I’m back! I’ll just pop these in the fridge and be right there.” I head to the bedroom first, hide my stash under the bed, and then put the beer in the fridge, removing one for myself first.
Walking in on our little circle of friends, I take a look at Lo and see that she has put on a stunning little number. Her heels, her short-shorts, and her black tank-top with her one-size-too-small push-up bra under it, giving her quite the shelf popping out of the top. What’s the reason for this, I wonder.
I give her a kiss hello and tell her I’m famished, looking at her quizzically.
Lola complains that the meal she prepared didn’t come out the way that she was hoping.
I say, “You know, I don’t think love is blind so much as love is deaf.”
“What does that mean?” she asks.
“You could go on complaining like that all night, but because you look so good, I don’t hear a thing.”
I get a little laugh from everyone there and then the ‘guests of honor’ arrive. Two young men from across the street who had moved in recently were invited by Lo. Brothers. Built. Did I mention young?
“HH, you remember Roy and Gary,” she says, that look of desire in her eye, her tongue running over her lips as she introduces us. “I just thought,” she says innocently, “since we were having people over, I’d invite them as well.”
“Very neighborly of you,” I say.
The rest of the night goes on with Lo dancing that fine line between being a charming hostess and a wicked vixen.
Finally, past eleven, all our guests leave, including the brothers from across the street.
Lo goes into the bedroom and when I emerge out of the bathroom, cock sleeve firmly in place, Lo nearly jumps in fear and fawning over the giant extension between my legs.
“What the hell is that?!” she cries out.
“Just something special I bought for you today.”
“What? Why? Today?”
“Yes. Because you were so enamored of your fan who sent you that pic that was longer than your forearm.”
“But Daddio, you know I love you,” she says, reaching out to grab the long appendage and feel its heft and girth.
“Yes, but you long for bigger, longer, thicker, and bigger.”
“You mentioned bigger twice.”
“I like how indignant you are.”
“Indignity is my forte.”
“No, lack of dignity is your forte.”
“Daddy, I have loads of dignity. I just prefer to be degraded in the bedroom.”
“Well, do what you do best and get on the bed, spread your legs, make yourself good and wet, and let me pound you with this monster cock.”
“I thought you’d never ask. Oh, and by the way, I’m already super wet. I have been all night.”
“The brothers?”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
I do as she wishes and I have to admit that it was a little difficult to fit the bulbous bad-boy in, but once in, Lo takes all of it with grace and gratitude.
“Can I use my Hitachi?” she asks.
“Of course,” I say, since with this sleeve it’s easy for me to lean back and give her enough room to fit her Hitachi over her clit. With the sleeve on, there is significantly less sensation and I welcome the vibrations of the Magic Wand.
Within mere moments Lo is saying, “Pull out! PULL OUT! I have to squirt!”
I do as she says and an impatient stream of spray shoots out on me.
“Holy shit!” she says, as if she had never cum like that before. Maybe she hadn’t. Maybe every time it feels like the first. But just as soon as the words are out of her mouth, she rolls over and says, “Take that silly thing off now and fuck me rawdog!”
I obey and begin from behind her and say, “Lo, don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t even feel you. That sleeve spread you so wide.”
“Don’t you take this the wrong way,” she says over her shoulder, “but I can hardly feel you. Now fuck me like you mean it.”
I do as she commands and as I pound her from behind, all the wetness covering her ass splish-splashes with each thrust and it makes a slick slapping sound.
I continue harder and faster, hoping to register something within her, and after much striving I finally succeed. I hit my target and she cums even harder than she did the first time.
But then something I’ve never seen before happens. She literally passes out mid-orgasm. She faints from fucking. She swoons from sex. She is out cold for about three or four minutes. When she comes to, she just asks to hold me.
“What happened Daddy?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “One minute you were cumming, the next you were out cold. How much did you have to drink tonight?”
“One glass of champagne.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. I swear.”
“Have you ever fainted from fucking before?”
“No Daddy. Never.”
“How do you feel?”
“Great.”
“Did you cum in me Daddy?”
“No, Lo. I didn’t cum at all.”
“Are you sure?” she asks feeling between her legs.
“Yes Lo. That’s all from you.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You were wonderful.”
“But I passed out – literally on you.”
“It’s ok. I took it as a compliment.”
“You would. You have such a big ego.”
“If you’re talking about this,” I say, holding the sheath, “then you’re right. It is big. I had a big ego before, and now it’s even bigger.”
“Daddy, a man’s ego is not his cock size.”
“No. I agree. But the bigger his cock size, the bigger his ego.”
“Well, you’d better watch out. You know what they say?”
“No, what’s that?”
“The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
“Oh? Is that how it goes? I thought it was, the harder they cum the harder they pass out.”
