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G.I. Confidential

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[This story was published today, in honor of Memorial Day and all those who serve, on MyErotica.com.]

G.I. Confidential

 

It started when he wrote an email that said simply, “Love your blog.  Can I please have a password?”  From that brief, shy, initial correspondence grew a virtual pen-pal connection with one of our men in uniform deployed abroad – somewhere in the deserts of the middle east.  He couldn’t say where because it was confidential and who knows who was also reading those emails?  But whoever was reading them was in for a tantalizing treat.

[Some images you get from a Google search of “mysexlifewithlola”]

            Lo wrote back, in her flirtatious, friendly way, and soon found out much more about her G.I. fan.  He was twenty-two, married, one kid.  He had been deployed for two years.  His wife wrote to him frequently and he loved and missed her dearly.  But she sent sexy pics only on occasion, and even then, they were more suggestive than explicit.  He loved her, but he dreamed about Lo.  He read the blog and studied her pics.  He had hotwife fantasies and wished that his own wife would send a nude pic now and then with a note saying, “Please share with your friends.”  But that was beyond the realm of possibility.

Because he was so shy around women, it took him a long time to get up the courage to write to Lo requesting a password to the protected posts.  Little did he know how flattered she would be.  Little did he know how she secretly had a fetish for men in uniform.  She encouraged frequent correspondence, but, due to his rigorous duties and the limited time he got on the internet, he could only write back very brief missives.

Even so, he complimented her, flattered her, and reported on his “down time” – his “Lola Down” time, that is.  Excited to the point of bursting, Lo sent him many explicit photos with little notes like, “Please be sure to share with your bunk mates,” or “Tell all the guys with you that Lola wishes them all to be safe, strong, and hard.”

After gaining his trust, the G.I. sent Lo some pics of himself and his family.  Lo thought it was sweet and that his wife was truly beautiful.  He sent a pic of her on their honeymoon in Hawaii where she wore nothing but a lei. Then he sent her the address where Lo could send him actual letters and such.  She sent him a signed calendar, saying, “I’ve always wanted to be a pin-up girl.”  She told me after the fact.

When she received a warm thank you from him, in which he told her that he posted it by his bunk in the barracks and that all the soldiers were commenting on it, she was thrilled!  When he wrote to her a week later, saying that someone had stolen it, she was even more elated.  She took it upon herself not only to send her pen-pal a replacement copy, but one for every guy in his battalion.

You can imagine her delight when he wrote her the following email:

 

Hi Lola.  All the guys say thank you for the calendars!  They are envious of me because you have been like a hotwife to me.  I ordered your book, Match, Cinder & Spark, (even though it’s really expensive in hardcopy!)  and at night, before lights out, a bunch of us sit around on our bunks and we take turns reading HH’s stories about you.  Last Sunday, we were given some R-n-R and we read the book in the morning.  After reading it, five of us went to the showers.  It’s one long tiled room with about fifty showerheads.  The five of us were naked, under the hot showers, soaping up and very hard and horny from the story we had just read.  I hope my wife never finds out about this, but as we were there, lathered and rinsing off, we all started casually grabbing at our cocks.  Eventually we started jacking off.  Someone grabbed the cock of the guy next to him and soon enough it was a full-fledged circle jerk.  We came on each other and laughed and washed down, smacked one another’s ass, and got out of the shower much refreshed.

Pretty soon Lola was getting emails from other guys in the troop and some of them told her how they had Tumblr accounts with their wives or girlfriends on which each would post something that turned them on or pics of themselves so that it was like virtual sex.  They told her that they were including Lo’s Tumblr pics so that their wives could see what they like.  Lo was thrilled to be the object of the attention of those couples – her virtual three-way.

After a few months of this sort of thing, Lo encouraged her original soldier to tell his wife about mysexlifewithlola.com and loladown.tumblr.com in the hopes that she would become more adventurous in their marriage.  With trepidation he did and, we’re happy to report, she opened up to him like never before, admitting to all her erotic longings, fantasies, and desires.  The grateful soldier thanked Lo and eventually his correspondences with her became less and less frequent.  Hopefully the hot couple is blissfully reunited by this time.

Many thanks to all our men and women in uniform serving our country!

 

Nevertheless, She Persisted

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Nevertheless, She Persisted

 

It had been a long forty-eight hours.  It began with a business meeting out of town on Thursday morning.  It continued with a red-eye flight back Thursday night.  It concluded with a quick shower Friday morning, a change of suit, a coffee, a peck on the cheek hello to Lo as she slept, and then off to the office for back-to-back-to-back meetings all day Friday.  The fact that we were in the middle of a heat-wave didn’t help any of that.

Finally, around seven o’clock I returned home, sweat stains under my arms on my white dress shirt.  I stripped out of my suit, took a cool, refreshing shower, and changed into a t-shirt and pj bottoms.  I told Lo I was too tired even to eat dinner.  She pouted, but she understood.

I got into bed, the windows open with a gentle breeze blowing.  Before long, lying there on my back, hands behind my head, I had dozed off.  It couldn’t have been much later than eight or nine.

Lo, of course, was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed awake.  I heard her in the bed next to me.  I saw the blue glow of her computer screen as she tried to watch something unobtrusively with her earbuds in.

I heard her toss, I heard her turn and her presence weaved in and out of my dreams.  At some point I heard her in the shower.  Then I felt her in the bed next to me again.

A little later I detected her unbuttoning the crotch of my pj bottoms.

“No,” I said firmly from my light sleep.  She continued.  “Lo, no.”  She was undaunted.  “Lo, I said NO!”

Her hand was already in, her fingertips gently caressing my flaccid member.  I said nothing because the soft strokes felt good.

I then felt her tongue on the tip.  I was still soft.  I felt her lips envelope my whole organ.  I felt her tug and pull up and then get her mouthful as she went back down, her head bobbing with the motions.

I could hear her right hand slapping her pussy lips.  Then I could hear her hand plunging in and out of her puss with a splosh as she fisted herself, or so I imagined in my dreamlike state.

Soon she had crawled on top of me and was rubbing her pussy up and down my stiff cock.  I could feel her dripping down on me.

“Please, Daddy,” she begged.

I made no response.  She reached down between her legs and grabbed me and directed my shaft inside her.

My hands involuntarily reached up and squeezed her midriff.  “What are you?” I asked from my torpor.

“Horny,” she said.

“What are you?” I asked again as my hands kneaded her belly.

“Eager and wet.”

“What are you?” I asked a third time.

“I don’t know Daddy.”

“It starts with a ‘p-h,’” I said.

“Phenomenal,” she said.

“Try again.”

“Philosophical.”

“Again.”

“What, Daddy?”

“Say it.  Say it for me.”

“Phat.”

“Yes.”

“Phat, for whom?”

“Phat for you, Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

She came all over my pj bottoms.

She then pulled up and off of me.  I thought that I was now free to return to my regularly scheduled programming – sleep and dreams.

“Get behind me and fuck your phat girl,” she commanded.

“Lo,” I began, as if begging to be relieved of duty.

“Get back there, Daddy.  I need it.”

I got behind her and slid in with ease.

“You’re so big, so wet, so loose,” I said.

“I know Daddy.  I’m so horny.  I’ve been masturbating all night.  I even took a shower to cum again.  I thought that would be it, but I need you.  I need your cock.”

“I can hardly feel you,” I said.

“I can hardly feel you,” she replied.

“Do you want me to put on my sheath?” I asked.

“No, Daddy.  I just want you, even if I can’t feel you.”  As if oblivious of what she just said, she then added, “If I had two cocks in me, then I might feel something.”

“I’m willing to share,” I said.  She came again to that thought.  Her pussy squeezed tight on my cock and pushed me right out, as she usually does in that position.

“Get back in,” she commanded.

I did as told.  I penetrated her as deeply as I could go and she let out a little moan, saying, “That’s it, Daddy.  Stay nice and deep.”

I could feel her Kegel muscles constricting around me.

“I think only a big dog with a good knot would be able to stay in you.”

With that one line, she came again, shooting me out again.

“Fuck me and fuck me fast and furious,” she commanded again.

I entered her and began thrusting in rapid fire.  I could hear and feel the splashing.  My heart rate was no longer a calm sixty beats per minute as it had been only moments ago when I was asleep.  I was up and awake now.

“Slow down!” she called.  “Stop!”

“What?  Why?” I asked, genuinely puzzled.

“I’ll squirt.”

I thrusted again as I said, “Good, I want you to squirt like a fountain.”

“No, Daddy,” she said, but it was too late.  She was squirting uncontrollably.  But she didn’t cum.  She was too wet, too slippery.  She didn’t stop squirting.  She tried to escape by crawling forward, but I didn’t let her.  I followed close behind.  She was no longer in control of her body.

“That’s a girl!” I said.

She reached both hands down between her legs to try to stop the geyser, but to no avail.

There was only one way for her to put an end to this hostile takeover of her body and she knew it and used it.

“Don’t cum, Daddy,” she said.  “Don’t cum!  Whatever you do, just don’t fucking cum.”

I pulled out and stood over her and came with as much force and power as she had all over her back.

“Never fails,” she said from beneath me.  “Now, clean me up and hurry, get some new bedding.”

After changing the sheets and blankets, throwing my pj bottoms and t-shirt in the laundry and lying back down in bed, her head on my chest, she asked, “Did you like that, Daddy?”

“Yes, little girl,” I said.

“What did you like?”

“How horny you were.  Why were you so horny?”

“I missed you.”

“Lo,” I said, skeptical.

“I missed you and I was watching naughty movies.”

“And so you thought it was ok to fuck me even though I was asleep?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.  But you liked it?”

“Yes, ultimately.”

“What did you like?”

“Your persistence.”

“Nevertheless, she persisted,” she said.

“Well-behaved women seldom make history,” I responded.

“In bed,” she quipped.

Sexy Shorts: Thirty Seconds of Pure Magic

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Thirty Seconds of Pure Magic

I walk into the bedroom and find her with her knees up under the sheets.  She looks at me, guilt all over her face.

“What are you up to?”

“Oh, nothing.”

I rip the sheets down and find her Hitachi lying next to her.

“Nothing, eh?”

“Well, nothing anymore.”

I reach over and grab her cell phone.  “Let’s see what you were looking at.”

She tries to grab it back from me, her naked body tackling me as she clamors for me to return it to her; her arms stretching, reaching to get it.  With my left hand I keep her at bay and with my right I rifle through her browsing history.  I find the evidence.

“Nothing, eh?” I ask again as the video plays.

She lies down in the bed again and spreads her legs.  “Come here, Daddio.”

“No,” I say, watching the video.

“Come here and hug me,” she asks in her little girl voice.

I lean over and hug her.  I try to get my hips between her legs.

“No no!” she says.  “I have to go to work.”

“You had enough time for Mr. Hitachi here,” I say, picking up her Magic Wand.

“Yes, but that only took thirty seconds.”

“So, you’re saying I can’t make you climax in under thirty seconds?  I’ve never been more insulted in my life!”

I get up from the bed.

“Pull it out.  Let me see it,” she says, delighting in her teasing of me.

I comply with her wishes.

“Mmmmm,” she says.

“Well, too bad, you don’t have enough time for me – only for your machines.”

“I like thinking that you’ll go through your day hard-up for me.”

“Better watch out, I might find me a fembot and fuck the sprockets out of her.”

Sexy Shorts: Scores

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Scores

 

Lying in bed at night, I’m sitting up reading a book.  She’s on her back, playing with her tits – pushing them up, pulling on the nipples, looking down at them.  She says, “Do you think my breasts are pretty?”

I look over at her.  “Yes.  Very much.”  I go back to reading.

She continues contorting her boobs.  “No, I mean, do you think they’re attractive?”

“Of course I do, Lo,” I say, without losing my spot on the page.

“Do you think people find them attractive?”

“What people?”

“People?”

“Like who?  The people who fuck you?  The people who look at you on the internet?  People you meet in the street?  What people are we talking about?”

“Yeah, all those people.”

“Well, Lo, judging from the number of men and women who write to you every day and send in dick picks and photos of themselves jackin’ and jillin’ to your lovely images, I think the answer has to be ‘Yes.’  Anymore questions?”

I looked back down at her – she was jillin’ it to the thought of all those people cumming to her.  Not satisfied with the thought, she rolled over on her tum, pulled out her phone, and began flipping through the scores of photos sent to her by her fans until she hit on one that did the trick.  She came.

“Daddy?”

“Yes Lo?”

“Don’t you want to get behind me while I do this?”

“Didn’t you already do it?”

“Don’t you want to get behind me while I do this again?”

I put down my book, got up and out of my pj bottoms, and mounted her round ass as she, on her hands and knees, looked through the fan photos again.  I thought to myself, “This could go on all night.”

Her tits were hanging down, rocking forward and back with each thrust.  She held herself up with her left hand as she held her right hand, palm open just below her nipples so that they’d graze against her palm as they went back and forth.  She liked feeling the fullness of her breasts as they hung there.  “Do you think they are saggy?” she asked me over her shoulder as she scrolled through some more pics.

“What?” I asked.

“My tits – do you think they’re sagging?”

“No, Lo.  You’re on all fours, like a bitch in heat, and gravity will do its thing, you know.”

She flipped through the photos on her phone and she said, “Look, this couple here – she has very big, very saggy tits.”

Glancing over her shoulder, I could just make out what it was I saw.  Luckily, I still had my reading glasses on.  “They’re in their forties or fifties Lo.  You’re in your twenties.”

I kept going at her as her fingers kept working their magic between her legs.  “Do you think they’re attractive?” she asked.

“Who?  The couple?”

“No, her tits?”

“Yes, Lo, they’re attractive,” I said.

“Saggy tits can be attractive, right?”

 

I gave up on answering and focused on hitting hard at the target.  Apparently that took Lo’s mind off of her tits for a while because she found a photo that she stared at intently and she began convulsing on my cock, cumming hard.

When she was done, she pulled off of me and rolled on her back, phone still in hand, looking at the photos submitted by fans to her.  I asked her, “Lo, what do they all do for you?”

“It’s not what they do for me that turns me on, it’s what I do for them.”

 

[All photos were submitted to loladown.tumblr.com]

Slut Lust

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Slut Lust

 

It was Thursday and Lo was late getting home.  She hadn’t texted or called or anything to say that she’d be late.  I had texted her around 7:00 to find out where she was and I got no response.  That was unusual, so I tried calling.  No answer.

Finally, around 8:00 she sauntered in the door.  Her hair was done and I saw right away that her nails were done.  “Where the hell were you?” I asked, not so nicely.

“I’m sorry, Daddio,” she said in her sweet little-girl voice, as she reached out to caress my chest.  “I went to get a haircut and then for a mani-pedi.”

“You could have called, texted, carrier pigeon, you know.”

“I’m really sorry.  It wasn’t a scheduled appointment.  I just walked in.  I didn’t know if they’d have time for me, so I didn’t tell you cause I didn’t know myself until I was already in the chair.  My phone was in my purse on the coatrack.”

“What’s the occasion?” I asked, suspicious.

“I’ll be right back.  I just want to change,” she said as she dashed off to the bedroom.

When she came back into the living room, she was just wearing her little black negligee.  She stretched out on the couch across from me and put her legs up with her toes close to my side.  “Do you like, Daddy?”

I looked down at them and they looked like ten pieces of shiny, pink candy.  “Yes,” I said, still sounding grumpy.

 

“Pet them,” she said, wiggling the little toes for attention.

I pet them and she cooed saying, “That’s right.”

“So tell me, what’s all this about?” I asked again.

She bent her legs at the knees in order to spread her legs a bit for me, displaying her lack of panties.  She stroked her pussy lips.  “Did you miss me?”

“Yes.”

“Were you worried?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me?” she asked, running her tongue over her teeth and her lovely, manicured fingers deep between her pussy lips.

“Lo, answer the question.”

“What’s the question?”

“Why are you getting yourself all done up?”

“Well, if you must know, I have a date tomorrow night.”

“A date?  With whom?”

“Brian.”

“What?  I thought you said he was off limits – except in your imagination – because he’s a business associate?”

“Well, it’s not a date date.  It’s a business date, of sorts.”

“What does that mean?”

She was still stoking her pussy and spreading her legs wider now.  “Don’t stop playing with my toes,” she said.

I made sure to pay attention to her toes with my hand.

“We are working on a project together and he asked if I would like to talk about it over drinks tomorrow night.”

“Is that so?”

“MmmmHmmmm,” she moaned, followed by, “Are you jealous?”

“Should I be jealous?”

“MmmmHmmmm,” she moaned again and then she came.  It was a surprise orgasm.  It caught us both by surprise.  It just gripped her and suddenly her toes curled up, her left hand grabbed a pillow and clutched it with all her might and her right hand continued stroking her pussy.  After the convulsion had loosened just a bit, she managed to whisper, “Get a. . .” and she pointed.  I knew what she needed and I dashed to the linen closet, grabbed a plush terrycloth towel, and dashed back.  She stuffed it between her legs and released, squirting into it, letting her breath go, her body suddenly shaking and trembling with the force of her hysterical paroxysm.

When she calmed down, she said, “Put this in the laundry and then fuck me in the bedroom.”

I followed her instructions and when I entered the bedroom she was bent over the bed, her hands pulling her butt cheeks apart, prominently displaying her still dripping pussy.  “Slide right in, Daddy.”

I did so.

“How’s it feel?” she asked.

“Like fucking in a hot tub,” I said.  “You’re gushing.”

“Am I tight?”

“Not at all.  I can hardly feel you.”

“Do you think Brian will think I’m a slut?”

“Do you plan on fucking him?”

“You never know where drinks on a Friday night will lead.”

“Whether he thinks you’re a slut or not, I know the truth.”

“Tell me.  What is the truth?”

“You’re a horny, slutty, cock-hungry, strumpet!”

“Go on,” she said.  She was just warming up.

“A cheating little bitch.”

“Yeah.”

“A fucking whore who. . .” I didn’t get to finish because she was screaming louder than I was talking at this point.  She collapsed into the covers and was dripping down to her knees.  I could hear my cock splashing about inside her as I continued to thrust.

“Stop.” she said.

“What?”

“Stop!”

“But I’m. . .”

“I know.  You’re so close.  I want you to stop.  Pull out.  Don’t cum.”  She crawled away from me on the bed, leaving me hard-up, dripping wet with her cum.

She turned around and cleaned me off with her mouth and looked up at me.  “I want you to be very hard up when I get home tomorrow night.”

“I will be, even if you finish me off now,” I said as my hands reached down to weave my fingers in her thick hair and push her head back down on my dipstick.

“I want you to be desperate for me,” she said, resisting any more pleasure for me.

“Fine,” I said, angrily.

The next morning, Lo was up before I was, which is something very unusual.  She was already stroking it to Brian’s photos that she had found by searching him out on Facebook.  Just as I was stirring, her left hand grabbed and held my right wrist tightly as she again convulsed, pressing her knees together, clasping on her fingers between her legs, dropping her phone, biting down hard.  And then it was over.

“Morning Daddio,” she said pleased as peach.

“I want to fuck you,” I said.

“Nope.  Not till tonight,” she said and she got up and went into the master bathroom, sat on the pot with the door open and looked at me as she squirted into the bowl and then peed.  She knows that this is a real turn-on for me and she did it deliberately to arouse me.

She got up, bent over and flushed, went to the sink and began brushing her teeth, all the time popping her little ass out at me and looking over her shoulder to make sure I was watching her.

“Are you coming home before your date tonight?”

“Of course I am,” she said.

“So I’ll see you around five?”

“Yeah.”

Soon she was out the door going to work.  She texted me and asked, “Are you still hard-up for me?”

I texted back three eggplant emojis.

Later that day, Lo came home and, after a perfunctory little peck on the cheek, she removed all her clothes and hopped into the steamy hot shower.  I went to peek in and I was greeted by her yelling, “Get out!” as I saw her wearing her shower cap – something she hates to be seen wearing.

When she was out, she spent a good long time naked in front of the mirror doing her makeup.  Finally, she came into the bedroom where I was watching her and she said, “This sucks.”

“What?”

“Look,” she said, showing me the little dangling string between her legs.

“Today?!”

“Yes.  Can you believe it?  I got it hard and heavy.  I’m so fucking pissed.”

“Well, you weren’t planning on fucking him anyhow, were you?”

“When I go on a date I like to know that all options are open.”

“And all holes.”

“You’re so vulgar.”

“But right.”

“Yeah, so?”

She slid on a sexy little thong, put on her bra, and slid into her sexiest dress.

“Remember,” she said, as she put on her heels, “no cumming for you!  Not until tonight.”

“Have fun,” I said as she dashed out the door, already late for her six o’clock appointment.  “Remember,” I added, “not to mix business with pleasure.”

She turned around and, with a laugh, she said, “Darling, pleasure is my business,” as she smoothed out her dress over her curvy ass.

She left and with those parting words I thought about what a trollop she is.

Left to my own devices, or rather, my own vices, I poured myself a generous helping of scotch and ensconced myself on the couch with my computer to write.  Every so often, when I wistfully thought of my little lush Lo, I would pull up her photos to look at – and only through a manly act of willpower, prevent myself from pleasuring myself to them.

To my surprise, nine o’clock came and went.  Then ten.  Then eleven!  I didn’t dare text her because of some sadistic pleasure I took in the not knowing.  But where the hell was she?!

Finally, at eleven-thirty-five, I saw the lights of a car pull into the driveway.  It was Lo.  She walked in the door and looked at me on the couch.  “Hey Daddio,” she said as she sauntered up to me, leaned over and kissed me.  She then turned to walk toward the bedroom and as she did so, she slowly slid her dress up over her ass so that I could see her bare bottom.

“Hey,” I called after her, “you were wearing panties when you left!”  I got up and followed her to the bedroom where I managed to see her pull the dress up and over her head.  She undid the clasp on her bra and took it off just before turning out the light and hopping into bed.

“How was your night, Daddio?” she asked, purposely being coy about her night.

“Fine,” I said.

She reached down and pulled out my hard cock.  “Did you miss me?”

“What do you think?”

“I want to hear it.  Did you miss me?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“A lot.  Why are you so late and why don’t you have your thong on?”

She stroked my cock.  “Were you good or bad?”

“I think I should be asking you that.”

“I asked you first.”

“I was good.”

“Did you jack it?”

“No.”

“Did you look at porn?”

“Only yours.”

“Did you cum?”

“I told you, I didn’t jack it.”

“Yes, but you could cum just by looking at my porn.”

“That’s true,” I said upon reflection, “but I didn’t.”

“Good.”

“Tell me about your night.”

“Are you sure you want to hear?”

“Yes,” I said, bracing myself for whatever she might reveal.

“Well, we met over at the restaurant.  He was a perfect gentleman, even though it must have been obvious that I was a slut in lust.”

“Really?  And how do you define lust?”

“Oh, Daddio, I’m disappointed.  A writer like yourself should know that lust and slut are the same word, just slightly rearranged.”

“That’s true,” I said, pondering the similarities.

“Lusting is the desire to have someone’s body and to give them yours in return.  Sluts don’t limit themselves to just one.”

“And love?”

“Oh, aren’t you the romantic?  Love is wanting not just the other person’s body for one night; it’s wanting them totally and completely forever.”

“And you’re a slut in lust?”

“Yes.  And it turns out Brian lusts for a slut. . . just like me.”

“Really?”

“Was there ever any doubt?”

“Go on.”

She tugged on my hard shaft and reached down below, cupping my balls.  “Daddy, your junk is huge!”

“It’s been a while, Lo,” I said flatly.

“Don’t worry, ole man, you’ll get yours.”

“Can you continue your story?” I said, rather frustrated by the interruption.

“He was a perfect gentleman at dinner and we talked mostly about work stuff, but he did ask me some questions about my personal life.”

“Such as?”

“If I was dating anyone, who, how long – things like that.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“I told him the truth, of course.”

“There are many versions of ‘the truth.’  Which one did you tell him?”

“I told him that I’ve been dating you and that we have an understanding.  I let him know that I’m free to play.”

“And?”

“And he invited me back to see his place.”

“Really?”

“Are you jealous now?”

“Did you go to his house?”

“Of course!  Don’t be silly.”

“And?”

“He has a beautiful place overlooking the skyline of the city.  He offered me a drink and I accepted.  We sat on the couch and talked for a while, but then. . .”

“Then what?”

“Oh, it’s too embarrassing.”

“What?”

“Well, a good slut should never wear a thong when she has a heavy flow.  At least not without a spare!”

“Uh oh!”

“Yeah.  I had to get up and throw out my panties in his bathroom garbage.”

“So, you left your calling card!”

She hit my chest playfully.  “Don’t be so rude!  I’m a lady.”

“A slutty lady.”

“Nevertheless.  So, I went back out, drank the last of my drink and thanked him for a wonderful evening.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“And now?”

“Now I want you, Daddy.”

“Good, cause I want you too!  Spread your legs.”

“Uh-uh,” she said.

“What?”

“It’s too heavy for that.”

I was already between her legs and her hand had a firm grip on my member.  She was pushing it up and down, causing the tip to rub against her clit as she moaned.  I could feel how erect she was.

“But. . .” I protested.

“Mmmmmm,” she hummed, “I like this.  Can I just give you a hand-job?”

“Sure,” I said, excited.  I was ready and willing to take anything.

She reached over to the nightstand, put some moisturizing lotion in her palm and grabbed me again, slathering up my hard rod.

“You just want me to get your rocks off like some animal.”

“Yeah,” I said.  “What kind of animal?”

“Like a big, horny dog.”

“Tell me about it.”

She was rubbing my slippery cock up and down her pussy and it felt at least as good for me as it did for her.  She didn’t go on talking, so I took the lead.

“What if you lived alone.  What if, after a hot and steamy date with a big, built, handsome guy like Brian, you came home all horny.  You came into an empty apartment.  Empty, except your faithful companion, your dog who has been waiting loyally for you to return.”

“A big dog, Daddy?”

“Yes.  A Doberman.  He gets all happy and excited when you walk in and his little tail starts wagging, but you’re so horny that you just need to jump into bed and start masturbating.”

“You’re bad, Daddy.”

“You get naked and he hops up on the bed next to you.  He smells that you’re in heat and he gets between your legs.”

“Does he lick me?”

“Yes, and he’s a big dog and you never had him fixed, so his balls are huge and his cock grows at the slightest hint of your scent.  You can see his giant erection as you stroke your pussy.  You feel bad for him cause he has no bitch to get him off.  He has to go so long without any sexual relief.  You don’t want him to accost your guests.  You want him to be a good dog.  You don’t want him to hump your leg if Brian comes over, so you try to take care of him.  You reach down between his haunches and you grab his cock with your hand.”

“Like this, Daddy?” she asked as she rubbed me up and down.

“Yes,” I said, moaning because her grip and slip felt so good.  “You feel how big and hard it is and it reminds you of Brian.  You just like having eager dick near you, no matter the type.  You like that he’s big and hard-up.  You know you have the power to make him feel better.  You stroke him up and down with your right hand as your left is stroking yourself.  He’s eager to get between your legs, like he has before, but you don’t let him this time.  You do all the work with your gentle, but firm hand.  He begins to thrust, sliding in and out between your slippery fingers and thumb.  You know he’s close.  You begin to cum yourself and just as you do, he ejaculates all over you!”

As I said it, she was cumming.  I was cumming.  We were cumming and cumming hard!  After I was done, she leaned forward, took my cock in her mouth, and licked it clean.  I thought about how that would make the perfect end to my little bedtime story.

I got up out of bed and grabbed a towel from the bathroom and returned to clean up my mess from her chest and belly.

“Hey,” she called out, “what are you doing?!  It’s not a spill in isle eight!”

“Look, little girl,” I said, “your hound wouldn’t be able to do this for you.  Accept the kind gesture with grace.”

“My hound would have licked me clean,” she said.

“Touché!”

Sin-esthesia

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Sin-esthesia

 

“Daddy, fuck me,” she said.  I had been in bed for at least an hour before she joined me.  I had read, trying to stay awake until she got home, but reading a book in a reclining position while sipping a whiskey at midnight on a Friday is simply not the best way to stay awake.  I had fallen asleep sometime around 12:30.  Lo was out with her friends.  I hadn’t heard her come home or enter the bedroom.  I hadn’t heard her remove her clothes, get ready for bed, or slip under the covers.  All I heard was her whisper into my ear, “Daddy, fuck me.”

Some people say hello when they get home.  Some people say good night when they get into bed.  Some people don’t wake their partners when their partners are asleep and they come home in the a.m.  But Lo says, “Daddy, fuck me.”

I don’t recall what inarticulate grunt of a response I made, but Lo was dismayed at the rebuff.  Lo, being the extrovert that she is, gets energized from time out with friends.  I, on the other hand, being an introvert, declined the invitation to go out with others.

Being fully aroused by her night out on the town, she was not nearly ready for sleep.  She pulled out her phone and then I heard her talking to me again.

“Hunter wrote to me.  He has a new girl.  He sent me pictures.  Do you want to see, Daddy?”

I didn’t respond.  I heard her pull out her Hitachi.  I heard the familiar buzz of its vibration.

“Mmmmmm,” she moaned, “she’s very hot.  Oh, and he sent a few pics of him too.  He’s grabbing his long cock.  He says his new friend is eager to be with a woman and guess what Hunter is suggesting?  That’s right, he wants me to join.  What do you think of that?  Would you be upset if I had a threesome with them?  Would you feel left out if I went over there and got fucked by the two of them and you were all alone?”

I heard her put down the Magic Wand and tap out something.  I rolled over.

“What are you telling him?” I asked.

“Oh, now you’re awake?”

“Thanks to you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What are you telling him?”

“I’m suggesting some times that we could meet.  I’m also asking if he would build a milking table for us so that she and I could be under it sucking and tugging on his long cock.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

“Let me see,” I said, about the new girlfriend.

“No.”

“Let me see.”

“If you want to see, get behind me and fuck me.  You can look over my shoulder. . . if you’re good.”

I grabbed my reading glasses from the nightstand and got up and slid right into Lo’s wet pussy.

“That’s it, Daddio.  Get in there deep,” said Lo as she held up the phone and displayed the pics of Hunter’s new affair.

“You want her?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“You want to. . .”  I didn’t even have time to finish my second question before Lo came with gusto.

“Fuck, I was horny!” she said.  She fell forward into the pillow and slipped her pussy off of my shaft.

“You just used me,” I complained.

“So?”

“My cock was nothing more than a dildo or your Hitachi.  A two minute orgasm.  Isn’t that right?”

“Yep.  But you were better than the dildo or Hitachi.”

“Only because with me, you had your hands free to look at Hunter’s pornographic pictures.”

“Right again.”

“And now that you woke me from a deep sleep, you’re going to leave me high and dry.”

“More like hard-up and wet, but yeah.  I’m so tired all of the sudden.”  She was already almost asleep.

“Unbelievable.”

“Jack it.”

“No.”

“Why not?  You can cum on me.”

“No.”

“Please.  I love it when you jack it.”

“You love it when anyone jacks it.”

“And when you cum on me.”

“You love it when anyone cums on you.”

“Hunter jacked it and came on me.”

“I know that.”

“Fine, if you don’t want to.”

“You’re really going to sleep.”

“I can’t help it.  But I give you full permission to fuck me while I’m sleeping.”

“Oh, blanket consent, huh?”

She was asleep now.  I tried to go back to sleep, but couldn’t.  Her naked body next to me was too tempting.  I slowly got behind her, put my warm body down on hers, and wiggled my way inside her still wet cunt.  She didn’t move.  She didn’t wake.  I propped myself up on my elbows on the pillow and slowly slid back and forth inside her.  I turned on her phone and saw the email from Hunter.  He wrote to her, “Still turning heads and dropping pants, darlin’?”

She wrote back, “I’m still dropping my pants and giving head.”

Their banter went back-and-forth.  I thought of what a little slut my girl was and as I did, I came deep inside her.  I collapsed on the bed next to her and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, just prior to waking, I found my hands gliding gently over her naked skin, feeling the roundness of her bum and the curves of her breasts.  As they hovered over the surface of her body, they transmitted to my dreaming mind an image, like a blind man reading braille.

This had the dual effect of making my cock stiff and waking Lo from her slumbers.  She looked at me and I looked at her and said, “I love seeing you with my hands, feeling you with my eyes, caressing you with my tongue, evoking you through olfaction.  I love to know you through our bodies.  I love to get physical with you in my imagination.”

She said, “Well, how about you fuck me with your cock?”

“That works too!” I said as I got behind her and gave her what she wanted.  As I slid in, she said that my caresses during the night gave her wild sex dreams.  “I’m so wet!” she said.  “All night I’ve been dreaming of people using me, fucking me, fucking every one of my holes.  You, Hunter, his girlfriend, strangers.”

“Well, one of those happened,” I said.

“What?”

“You said I could fuck you even if you fell asleep.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I did.”

“You did?” she asked, and as the thought of it filled her mind, she came, gushing all over me.

Markings On Rear

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Markings On Rear

 

“If you could have me anyway you want me, how would you have me?”

“I think you know.”

“No, I don’t.  Tell me.”

“You know.”

“Please, Daddio.  I want to hear you tell me,” she said seductively, pulling at her nipples as we lay in bed naked, next to each other.

“There’s one way that I really like to have you.”

“In the arms of another man?”

“Well, that too, but that wasn’t what I was thinking of just now.”

“Tell me.  In the arms of another woman?”

“There’s that as well, but. . .”

“The arms of another man and another woman!”

“My my, is this your fantasy or mine?”

“Well, it’s yours, but for my pleasure.”

“Isn’t it always for your pleasure?”

“No!” she protested, “I do things for your pleasure.”

“Only when my pleasure brings you pleasure.”

“That’s true.  But stop beating around the bush and tell me.”

“Interesting turn of phrase since the way I’d like to have you is. . .”

“Ooohhh!  I know what you want.  You want my ass, don’t you Daddy?”

“What gave it away?” I asked sarcastically.

She wiggled her ass in the air and said, “Well, you can’t.  Not tonight.”

“You say ‘Not tonight’ every night!”

“That’s not true.”

“Well, tell me something.”

“What’s that?” she asked, excited.

“Did you used to give up your ass more frequently than you do with me?”

“MmmmHmmm,” she said with a smile and licking her lips.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, before you, with some of the fellas I dated in college. . .”

“Dated?” I interrupted.

“Well, fucked.”

“That’s more like it.”

“I used to take long, hot, steamy showers while they lay on the bed.”

“I bet you did.  And I know what you did in those showers too.”

“That’s right.  I’d cum and cum loudly about two or three times while I got myself all nice and clean and him all nice and hard.”

She stopped to pull on my cock and feel how hard I was at the time.

“You like my story, Daddy?”
“Oh yes.  Go on.”

“Well, when I was done, I’d come out of the shower and into the bed and I’d lie on my tum while my ass was in the air, like this.”  She put her cute bum up so she looked like a little inchworm.

“And?”

“And then I’d motion to my lover-for-the-evening to grab the body oil from my nightstand and give me a good massage with it.  He’d rub it into my calves and my lower back and I’d keep on putting my butt up in the air and I’d direct him where to go.  If he didn’t find his way, then I’d put my hand back there like so.”  She moved her hand over her ass cheek and began massaging her special spot.  “And then I’d finger myself until I came and then ask him – whomever he was – if he wanted to do the same.  I’d instruct him and direct him until he got me all revved up and then I’d tell him to get behind me and I’d make sure he slid into my puss first to get him nice and slick and then I’d direct him right. . . there.”  She let out a moan as she fingered her special spot even deeper.

“I remember those days when you used to go crazy – demanding that you wanted A to P and back again.  You’d even go A to P to M!”

“Ah, young love.  How romantic of us.  Right?”

“Why don’t you do that anymore?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”  The truth was, I was afraid of her answer.  But I still wanted to know.

“Well, Daddio, I’ve never had anyone as thick as you.”

“Come on!” I protested in disbelief.

“No, really.  I’ve had longer, but never thicker!  You stretch me till it hurts.”

“I thought you like that.”

“Sometimes.  But I need a lot more practice.”

“Well, let’s get to it,” I said, pulling her little princess plug out of her toy drawer.

She took it from me and put it in.

“Fuck me,” she begged.

“No,” I said.

“What?”

“I said no.  You have to be punished for all your sins.”

“I like the sound of that,” she said.

She got on all fours and as I spanked her bottom, the lyrics of the song “Take Me to Church” played in my head:

Take me to church
I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

 

She delighted at each open-handed smack of her bottom and I could feel her getting wet.

“Have me now, Daddy,” she pleaded.

I flipped her over on her back and spread her legs.  I worshiped her like a dog, using my tongue and lapping up her sweet nectar.

I reached below the bed and pulled out her Remus as another verse of the song chimed in my ears.

Drain the whole sea
Get something shiny
Something meaty for the main course
That’s a fine looking high horse
What you got in the stable?
We’ve a lot of starving faithful

“No, Daddy!” she pleaded.  “I want you.”

“First I’m going to fill you up.”

She accepted her sentence like a proud princess on the rack.

When she was stuffed beyond a reasonable amount, I pulled out the lengthy and thick dildo and replaced it with my hard rod.

“Fill me up, Daddy,” she whispered.

“I am,” I said.

“Oh.”

She had already cum twice and now I was slipping and sliding inside her.  I could feel the princess plug protruding from below.  I flipped her over again so that she was on her hands and knees and I was thrusting behind her and with each thrust my torso pushed the princess plug in a bit deeper.

“I’m cumming!” she called, “I’m cumming in my ass!”  Oh, how I longed to hear those words.  I thrusted with greater speed and more intensity until she collapsed, falling forward on the bed and, with both hands between her legs, she tried to prevent her flood gates from bursting, to no avail.

The sheets soaked, she asked me, “Did you cum?”

“No.”

“Do you want to cum?”

“Yes.”

“Well, too bad.”

“Why?”

“Because abstinence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Darling, I am hardly abstinent.”

“You’re hard alright,” she said, looking at my member.

“Did you like it?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I like that when I’m good I get spankings and when I’m bad I get more. . . a lot more,” she said, looking at the Remus horse dildo lying next to her on the bed.

Sexy Shorts: Letter to the Editor (A Masturbation Monday Post)

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Letter to the Editor

 

 

A thirty-something guy wrote to Lola saying, “H.H.’s writing about you is so amazing.  Do you read it much?”

Lola told him, “H.H. reads every story to me in bed before they are published.  I masturbate to them and edit them at the same time.”

He said, “That’s an amazing talent!  Multitasking.  It must make finishing the stories pretty hard.”

“I like making things hard.”

“It’s great to like what you’re good at.”

He then sent a number of photos of himself wanking to Lola’s pics.

Doppelgangers

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Doppelgangers

 

 

Sometime back, you may recall, Lo and I met a couple whom we lovingly referred to as “the protégés.”  Erin and Zach were, in many ways, a younger version of Lo and me.  We had met them through an ad on Craigslist that Lo had placed looking for a third – male or female, or a couple – to help her with her insatiable appetite for sex.  They answered the ad and we hit it off right away.  Unfortunately, they lived pretty far away and meet-ups were difficult to arrange before they moved to the other side of the country.

Well, recently, I had the pleasure of meeting a new couple whose moniker here will be “the doppelgangers.”  A while back I was presenting at a conference out-of-town when a friend said, “Oh, I have to introduce you to Jim.  You two have so much in common.”  At the dinner reception that night she made good on her promise and it turned out that Jim and I had even more in common than our match-maker imagined.  Not only were our interests aligned, but we had studied at the same college, knew many of the same people professionally, and, oddest of all, it turned out that Jim lived in the same city as Lo and me.  How had we not met before?!

But the uncanny coincidences didn’t stop there.  While at the dinner, I noticed that Jim was sitting next to a slender, attractive blonde whom he introduced to me as his girlfriend Lilly.  Lilly, I found out, was a student of sexuality and gender studies.

“You must meet Lola, my girlfriend,” I said, explaining that besides having the same consonantal pattern in their names, they are in a similar field – though Lo is engaged in sex therapy.  I soon found out that Lilly’s focus was getting people to be “in touch,” literally and metaphorically, with themselves.  Our dinner conversation was far better than the usual polite chit-chat.  It was deep and philosophical and I couldn’t wait to introduce Lo to the doppelgangers.

The first weekend back at home we went out for a double date and, much to my surprise – though I should have seen it coming – Lo took to Jim right away but was not sold on Lilly.  “Oh my God!” said Lo after the date, “Can’t you see it?”

“See what?” I asked, innocently.

“All that talk about sex and helping women to squirt and finding ways to treat men’s impotency – all of it!”

“What about it?  I thought you’d find it. . . interesting.”

“She’s showing off.  She’s looking for attention.  She’s trying to shock us with her ‘open-mindedness,’ her – grrrrrrrrrrrrr!”  Lo couldn’t find the right words and was frustrated.

“Lo,” I said, trying to be conciliatory, “Don’t you think that maybe it’s just that you two are so. . .” I hesitated to use the word, “similar?”

“WHAT?!”

I knew it.  I shouldn’t have said it.

“How could you even suggest that?!  She’s such a, such a, a, a. . .”

“Attention slut?”

“Yes!”

She agreed with me right away, but a split second later, the irony of it set in – the fact that I had specifically said about her in the past that she is an attention slut.  She gave me a sidelong glance.  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said.  “You’re thinking that I’m also an attention slut.”

“Well, aren’t you?”

“Not like she is!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see the difference.”

She was ready to knock my block off when I said that.  “She’s desperate for attention,” Lo insisted.  “I’m just good at getting it and I enjoy it.  That’s the difference.”

“Whose attention is she desperate to get?” I asked.

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

“Whatever do you mean?”  I admit, I was toying with her a bit and found the situation amusing.

“Don’t think I didn’t see how she was flirting with you.  ‘Oh, HH, tell me more about. . . and, HH, what do you think of. . . .’”  She quoted Lilly in a mocking, bimbo caricature voice, batting her eyelashes at me and smiling falsely.

“Was that how she was talking?” I asked.

“Yes.  And don’t think for a second that I didn’t see her checking out your package.”  She looked down at my crotch and stared.

“Was she?” I asked with mock naïveté.

“Fuck off!”

“So is that really what this is about?”

“What?”

“You’re afraid of her attracting my attention.”

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”  There was a pause.  “No.  I mean, I’m insecure.  There.  I’ll own it.  I’m afraid that you’ll find her waiflike, Kate Hudson, faux-innocence with a dirty mouth attractive and you’ll leave me for her.  You know I have abandonment issues.  And frankly, it’s not an irrational thought, is it?”  The levy had broken and now the flood of her thoughts was unleashed.  “I mean, look at your history – you’ve left every single woman you’ve ever been involved with.  You’ve never been broken up with.  You’ve only done the breaking up.  Why shouldn’t I be insecure?  You tell me practically on a daily basis that you are free as a bird to do whatever it is you want.  For our first anniversary you bought me a bracelet that said ‘Impermanence.’  I mean, what the hell?!  What do you think a woman is going to understand from that?  Don’t you think that I have a reason to feel threatened, to be insecure?  Look at her – she’s your dream come true.  Isn’t she?  She’s skinny and she talks about sex incessantly and she looks at you with those eyes that say fuck me and she wants an older father-figure of a man and she shuts me down and. . .”

She wasn’t done talking, but I grabbed her and held her closely and with a bit of a grin on my face, amused at her sudden confession, I said, “Even if all that were true – though I deny that it is – but even if it were true, so what?”

“So what?” she asked, looking up at me with the tears running down her face, pulling her mascara down in straight lines over her cheeks.

“Yeah, so what?”

“I’m scared you’ll leave me.  That’s so what.”

“Lo,” I said, “even if everything you just said was true, there’s one thing that you are leaving out of the picture.”

“What’s that?”  She was more quiet now.  Ready to listen.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not to me.”

“Lo,” I said, looking into her eyes, “she’s not you and I’m in love with you.  Only you.  All I want is you.  Yes, I may be a bit flattered if a woman shows some interest in me now and again.  Can you blame me?  I’m not anywhere near as attractive and appealing to others as you are.  You get men and women showing an interest in you all the time.  So, let me bask in some attention on occasion.  I’m not interested in anyone else but you.”

 

 

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”
“I mean, what do I have that she doesn’t have?”

“I don’t know.  I can’t explain it,” I said as I put my lips to her forehead and took a deep breath with my nose buried in her hair.  “The way you smell.  The touch of your flesh against mine.  The sound of your voice when you call me ‘Daddy.’  The way you know when I’m depressed before even I do.  The way you make me laugh.  Everything.  It’s as if every cell in my body shares DNA with every cell in yours and that DNA is meant to be intertwined together in its double-helix union.  My genetic structure calls out for you and only you answer that call.  It’s as if we are of one psyche.  Your thoughts are mine and mine yours and without you I’d be braindead.”

“If that’s really so, then why do we fight so often?”

“Don’t you know?”

“No.”

“I think you do.”

“Tell me.”

“We fight,” I said quietly and gently, “only because you’re afraid.”

“Afraid?  Afraid of what?”

“You know.”

“Say it for me.”

“Afraid of admitting the truth – that we are so closely connected that if I were to leave, your biology and psyche would also be severed.  You’re afraid of accepting my love because you fear, deep down, that I am going to leave you.  And so you fight it rather than accept it.  To accept it wholeheartedly would mean being fully, completely vulnerable – even more vulnerable than you already feel.  Deep down you want me to leave.  You want your worst nightmare to come true because then you wouldn’t be vulnerable.  Then you could put up your wall as high as the stratosphere and sit comfortably alone behind your defenses and not sit with this uncomfortable insecurity and vulnerability.  You want me to hate you and leave you because you don’t feel that you’re deserving of me and my love and you want to prove yourself right.  Well, I’m here to tell you you’re wrong.  I love you.  But, it’s like Bruce Springsteen says, ‘You can’t shut off the risk and the pain without losing the love that remains.’  Love is never secure, never complete, never safe.  If it were, then you’d leave and look for someone else.”

“Who’s to say that I won’t leave, looking for someone else?” she asked, defiantly.

“Oh, you might go looking for someone else.  You might find someone else.  You might fuck someone else.  But you’ll always come back to me.”

“Why should I?” she asked, still as stubborn as ever – trying to disprove my accurate insight into her psychology.

“Because you love me.”

“I love you because you can leave me at any time and because I love you, I want you to leave me?  That’s your theory?”

I nodded yes.

“Well, you’re wrong,” she said, obstinately.  “I hate you.  I just love hating you so much that I want to fuck you, cause when we fuck, I know I’ve got you in my power and you’re mine.”

“That makes absolutely no sense,” I said.

“Shut up and get in the bedroom,” she said.

Sexy Shorts: The Raunchy Game

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The Raunchy Game

hitachi3

 

 

“I have an idea for a game I’d like to play,” I whispered to her as she lay next to me on her back, her legs spread and her Hitachi buzzing between them.

“What’s that?” she asked, opening her eyes for just a moment.

“I’ll tell you if you put that Magic Wand down and let me get between your legs.”

“Um. . . just a minute,” she said, clicking it into ‘hi-gear.’  Seconds later she was convulsing, clutching the sheets with a clenched hand as she struggled to hold the giant vibrating mechanism on her clit.  Her jaw dropped and her breasts heaved with her gasps for air.  After a minute, she clicked off the Hitachi, put it on the bed next to her and said, “OK, you’re turn.  You can fuck me now.”

I climbed on top and was poised to penetrate her, but she said, “Wait, one sec.”  She spread her legs and her right hand began slapping and diddling her pussy for a few faps and then she squirted a steady, high-pressure stream right onto my cock.  I was impressed by her laser-like aim.

“Now?” I asked.

“Yes, now,” she said.

I slid right in and grasped her with my arms, putting my head down over her shoulder so my words were whispered right into her ear.  As I slowly and lovingly slid in and out of her, I said, “The idea for my game is. . .”

“Get up there,” she interrupted, “and fuck me hard and fast!”

I was taken aback a bit, but I followed instructions.  I got up on my knees, grabbed her ankles above my head, and began pounding away at her with my spear.

“My idea” I said in a much louder voice, “is called ‘The Raunchy Game’ and it’s played by each of us taking turns saying something raunchy to the other.  The other person can say Red, Yellow, or Green to the first statement.  Red means, ‘No way.  Stop right there.  Not a turn-on.’  ‘Yellow means, ‘You’re approaching my limits, but keep going.  Let’s see where this leads.’  And Green means, ‘I like that.  More please.’”

“Ah ha,” she said, followed by, “Harder.  Deeper.”

She was just looking to get off and so I gave up on my game for the moment.  I pounded her with all I had until she finally was cumming.  She yelled, “Deep.  Stay.  There.”  I lodged as far down her hole as I could plunge.  I held it there, but felt the walls of her inner thighs closing in on my instrument.  Tighter and tighter they pressed until, despite my best efforts, they squeezed me right out of her.  Upon my involuntary departure, she convulsed again and tightened up into a self-contained ball as she emitted a ray of ejaculate once more.

When she was done, she looked up and said, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s ok.”

“I’m better now.  Do you want to play that game?” she asked as she spread her legs again.

I repeated my actions of before, sliding into her slowly and descending to hold her.  I was in a loving mood, not so much a fucking mood.  I whispered in her ear again and said, “You go first.”

“Daddy, you know all of my raunchy fantasies already.”

“Just say something that you think I will find beyond the pale.”

“You first,” she said.

“OK, but before we begin, tell me what you were thinking about when you were masturbating just now.”

“You.”

“I know that’s not true.  Tell me the truth.”

“No really, you.”

“Lo,” I said in my paternal way.

“OK, I was thinking of. . . it’s bad.”

“You see, this is exactly how we play the game.  What was it?”

“I was thinking about Brian from work again.”

“Green.”

“I was thinking about how hard-up he is since he and his girlfriend broke up.”

“They broke up?”

“Yes.  Didn’t I tell you?”

“No.”

“They broke up a while ago and he’s been visiting my office more and more frequently since then.”

“I bet you like that,” I said and I could feel her pussy clench upon my cock.  “So what exactly were you thinking about?”

“I was thinking about how I want him to lift up my skirt, bend me over my own desk in my own office, with the door open and the blinds on the windows wide open, and spank me.”

“Green.”

“I want him to spank me for being such a tease to him.”

“You’ve been a tease?”

She ignored the question.

“Then I want him to fuck me for all to see.”

I had to pull out.  I grabbed my cock and shot spurts of cum all over her torso from her shoulder blades down to her clit.

“Nooooo!” she called, disappointed that I wouldn’t last to give her yet another orgasm.

As I was cleaning her up, she said, “Daddy, you didn’t even get to use your yellow card.”

“I know,” I said, very disappointed with myself.

“And I didn’t get to come a third time.”

Lately three has been the magic number for her.  Without that third, earth-shattering orgasm, she feels sexually frustrated.  “Blue-balls,” as she puts it.

I was back in bed, under the covers, drifting off to sleep and I could feel the bed vibrating as if it were one of those coin-operated beds in a cheap motel.  I opened up one eye and saw her, on her side, her back to me, the blue glow of her phone illuminating the otherwise black room.  I waited.  And waited.  And waited.  After about half an hour, she finally coaxed out that last, hidden, cap-stone orgasm out of deep within her.

“Lo,” I said.

“Yes?”

“What were you looking at?”

“Just porn.”

“Tell me what it was.”

“It was bad.”

“What was it?”

“I was looking at Brian’s photos.”

Silence and then, “Are you mad, Daddy?”

I didn’t respond.  I went to sleep and had many strange dreams.

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