Hind Hunting

“Daddy, have me.”

“Get naked.”

“I’m naked, Daddy.  Have me.”

“Come here.”

She nuzzles up to me, putting her head and soft hair on my shoulder.  Her right hand reaches down for my hard cock.  She moves her head down toward it.  She opens her mouth and takes it in – wet, warm, soft, and loving.

She maneuvers to climb on top of me, straddle me, ride me.

“Hey, what’s the hurry?”

“I want it.”

“We got all night.”

“I want it in me, now.”

“Can’t we enjoy each other first?  A little stroll through the Garden of Good and Evil before going in for the kill?”

“Daddy,” she says as she lowers herself on my rod, “it needs it.  My pussy needs it.  My cunt needs to be filled.  I’m sorry.  Play with my titties,” she says as she bounces up and down.

I reach up and grab her breasts with both hands.

“Pull my nipples.”

I pull on them.

“Pinch them.  Pull them harder.  Make it hurt.”

I do as I am told.

Pull them.  Really pull them.  Pull them down.  Make them sag.  Pull my nipples to my navel.”

I do as she says.  She moans a moan of pain and delight.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” she says after mere seconds.

“Lo, what were you looking at on your computer before coming to bed?”

She bites her bottom lip.  She’s not able to reply.  Her pussy squeezes me out and squirts like an overripe peach on the first bite.

Her fingers clutch my shoulders.  She lifts up her ass in the air.  She slides down my torso with her tongue out, licking up all she spilled on me in her exuberance.

She gets to my navel.  She pauses.  She falls asleep.

I push her gently onto the bed, sliding her off my still rock-hard cock.

“Lo,” I say, quietly, “Lo, I want you.”

From her dreamlike state she says, “Do whatever you want.”  She’s off to Never-Never Land.

I pull out a German porno mag from my nightstand drawer.  I open it up on her ass.  I compare her to Gili Sky, the porn star of the magazine’s centerfold.  I prefer Lola.  But the juxtaposition is nice.  I know Lola would prefer Gili and the three men Gili is with as well.

I try to jack it to the photos and Lo’s ass.  Lo’s ass looks too good to pass up.  I rub some lube on the tip and her target, take aim, and swoosh!  Direct hit.

Driving home the happy hunter, I lie down on her back and open the magazine and begin leafing through the pages, reading what I can in German.  It’s been a while.  Lo is motionless, soundless.  The lack of her longing for my donging diminishes my fervor.  I pull out.  As I do so, she says, almost from the depths of her depraved dream, “Al wanted some new photos.  Take some of me, Daddy.”

I’ve never seen a woman so eager for the camera and yet, so very very relaxed in front of it.

Lola and Gili Sky

I replace the book on her rear and snap a few for her long-distance lover.  Now I know what she was doing before coming to bed in a feeding frenzy.

Gili Sky Front, Lola Rear

The next day she wakes up chipper as can be.

“Sleep well, Darling?” I ask.

“Great!  You?”

“I wish I could say I slept hard.  But it’s more like I hardly slept because I was hard.”

“Awww, poor baby.  Didn’t you have me?”

“It’s not worth going into,” I say.  “You’ll read all about it anyway.”

“I hope so!”

“What’s for breakfast?” she asks, pulling at her nipples over the thin t-shirt she’s wearing.  “Wow!  My nips really hurt!  Kiss them better, Daddy.”

Lo in Lace

She lifts up her shirt and forces her breasts in my face.  I give them gentle kisses.

“Mmmmm,” she moans.  “Can I have you for breakfast?”

She drops to her knees in the middle of the kitchen, pulls down my pajama bottoms, and goes to town on my torpedo.

After she slurps down her morning smoothy, she gets up, wipes her mouth, and says, “Looks like a no pants, no panties, pussy party day at work for me!”

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Smalltown Strumpet – Flaming Lips

Smalltown Strumpet – Part III: Flaming Lips

Continued From: The Doctor Will See You Now

The Flaming Lips

Lo was out of commission.  There would be no sexy suntanning in the front yard, no strip club short-short shenanigans, no teasing the townies down Main Street.  She spent much of her time submerged in the clawfoot tub or strutting bottomless around the house, airing out her nettle-enflamed pussy.  She had to sit on pillows and masturbating was now out of the question.  This put her in a very unpleasant mood.

Though I wished to attend to her, I needed to get out of the house, lest I bear the brunt of her frustration with her cunt.

I had been working on an article about bestiality portrayed in art and literature through the centuries and thought I’d mosey down to the local library to continue my studies.

Lo had taken a couple of Tylenol PM and was resting comfortably when I slipped out with my computer and backpack.  I figured I had a couple of hours to myself.

The library was a very small brick building.  There were two rooms and a small anteroom at the entrance that contained the check-out desk, a couple of computers, and a display table for new books.

I set up in a small corner of the library, sitting in a large, square, worn brown leather club chair that looked like it was at least as old as I am.  It was remarkably comfortable and the arms were flat, so they were perfect for resting my books and computer around me conveniently.

I began by looking at a blog from Remittance Girl on “Defending the Indefensible: Bestiality in Erotica.”  It was a great place to start my research.  She had written the article in response to censorship of erotica authors by PayPal – an infringement of speech that this very author had suffered by that very company!  They should call it PrudePal.

In her article she referenced one of my favorite authors, Neil Gaiman, and his defense of Chris Handley, among others who have been prosecuted for the material they read, write, draw, collect, sell, or possess.

This led me down a rabbit hole into a morass of law, liberty, and lurid content.  Thank goodness my chair had its back against the wall because if any local busybody were to see the ‘scholarly studies’ I was researching, there’s no telling what would happen.

Actually, there is a telling what would happen and if you have a moment, I will inform you as to the tempest in a teapot that an oversight by me stirred up in that little hamlet.

I was deep into my investigation of Greek portrayals of bestiality and had about ten different books from the library surrounding my chair when I received a text from Lola.  “Where are you, Daddy?”

I guess I won’t be able to start my deep dive into Hokusai and the Japanese tradition of erotic images.  I packed up my stuff hastily, leaving behind the library books in their sprawling spread of towers on the armchair.

Perhaps another time I will get back to you with my developed thoughts on the matter.

I drove back to the house where we were staying, to find Lo fully naked and fully submerged in the tub.  She looked up at me and said, “I’m wet, and not just because I’m taking a bath.”

“Feeling better?”

“Much,” she said.  “But you left me, Daddy!”  She pouted.

“I’m sorry Lo, but. . .”

“Shut up and get naked.”

“I’m not going for a swim.  There’s only room for one in there.”

“Who said anything about that?” she asked as she put her mouth on the edge of the tub and opened wide.  She looked up at me.  “Insert your cock.  I’ll be your cumdump.”

I did as instructed.  She sucked.  I fucked (her face).  Water splashed around.  She contorted in the tub, eventually getting to a position where her legs were going straight up the wall in a “V” formation, her head was tilted back over the opposite side of the tub, and she was squeezing her tits and pulling on her nipples as I fucked her face.  With every thrust into her mouth and down her throat, my heavy ball sack was slapping up against her upside-down face, smacking her squarely in the eyes and on the bridge of her nose.  She liked it.

Lo, cooling down her flaming lips

Somehow the plug came undone and the water drained out of the tub.  Lo moved her hands from her tits to her pussy.  She began smacking it hard and then even harder.  She slapped her pussy like a mother spanking a very naughty child, with force and anger, until she finally squirted all over the wall of the bathroom.  The naughty child crying from the pain, perhaps.  Seeing that, I couldn’t control myself any longer and I came directly into Lo’s esophagus.  She gagged and nearly puked in the tub from the odd position of the climax.

I was dreading another trip to the hospital!

She jumped out of the tub, coughing and sputtering like she had been tossed at sea.  Cum was oozing out of her nostrils and she was struggling to catch her breath.  When she finally did, she said something I didn’t quite catch.

“What?” I asked.

“That was awesome,” she repeated.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“This stinging sensation in my pussy lips really makes for an incredible orgasm.”

“You should sit in poison nettles more often.”

“I think I might be able to have sex now, Daddy.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but my pussy is still burning.  Do me a favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Grab a tray of ice cubes from the freezer and meet me in the bedroom.”

I did as she asked, wondering how I was going to get hard again in order to give her what she wanted.

I met her in the bedroom and she was lying on her back.

“Take an ice cube and trace it around my labia,” she said.

I gently applied the cold, slippery, dripping ice to her pussy lips.  She loved it.

“Slip it in.”

I inserted it.

“Another,” she said.

I did the same thing a second time.

“Again,” she said.

And a third time.

This continued until there were more ice cubes in her pussy than in a tall glass of lemonade.

“Now fuck me.”

At this point, the eroticism of what I had been doing had me rigid.  Timidly I inserted the tip of my penis just a bit into her ice-packed pussy.

It felt cold.  Freezing, to be exact.  But not unpleasant.

“Fuck me!”

She likes to go from zero to balls-deep in under a minute.

I slide my rod all the way into her snow cone.  There was a curious mixing of hot and cold and wet, since all the ice cubes were melting pretty rapidly inside her.

We had hardly started to stir her dirty Shirley when she said, “Go get more ice.”

I pulled out, feeling a chill on my thermometer, and got another tray of ice.

I inserted my manhood to her ice bucket and as I fucked her, the friction creating heat and melting her internal coolant, she reached over and took fresh ice cubes and, one-by-one, slipped them into her slit over the shaft of my cock.  The tightness, the alternating hot and cold, the slip-sliding of the cubes inside her pussy, was unlike anything I had ever felt.

“Should I put a few in my ass?” she whispered.

I couldn’t answer and before I knew it, she was spreading her ass cheeks with one hand and putting the cubes in with the other.

“Do you want my ass, Daddy?”

I did.  I did, so bad.

I pulled out and slid my hot and cold compress into her smaller icebox and within mere seconds I melted her heart with the heat of my love.

I pulled out and all the white, watery liquid spilled out of both holes as she stood up to go to the bathroom.  It quickly dribbled down her inner thighs to her feet and puddled on the hardwood floor, leaving a trail from the bedroom to the bathroom.  I suddenly heard a loud rattle.  Her remaining ice cubes slipped out and crackled on the tile floor.

“Whoops!” I heard her call.

When she returned, she got on her knees beside the bed and looked up at me.

“Did you like that Daddy?”

“Very much, Lo,” I said.

She licked my balls and continued up my cock and then took the tip of my flaccid shaft into her mouth.  “Can I be your cock-warmer, Daddy?” she asked before taking the entire length of it in her mouth and resting her head gently on my inner thigh.

[To be continued. . .]

Lo’s cockwarmer

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Immoral Support

Lo Bursting her Blouse

[Continued from Brass in Pocket]

 

“You can’t use lube, moisturizer, not even spit or pussy juice,” warned Cam.  “The fitness of the sperm depends upon it.”

“I understand,” said Lo, clinically neutral in tone.

Ted had seen Lo’s photo and was intrigued.  He consented to have her help in the donation room.

“I might just observe the first time,” said Lo.

We had been invited to Cam and Gina’s house for dinner in order to meet Ted.  It was awkward at first.  But Lo’s seductive stares boosted Ted’s ego, I’m sure.  I don’t think Lo was as attracted to him, per se, as she was attracted to the idea of being a facilitator for a man to ejaculate.  The set-up captivated her more than the stud.

Lo got the call from Cam one afternoon.  “It’s time.”

Off she went to their house the next day.  I stayed home.  I was superfluous to the process.  This was two people trying to conceive, after all, not a spectator sport.

Lo and Ted went into the spare bedroom as Cam and Gina were in the master bedroom.  Lo had worn a button-down white shirt with a collar.  It seemed two sizes too small for her.  Under it she wore a lacey red bra.  She had on a short leather miniskirt with a red lace thong under it.  On her feet were red heels.  Her toenails and fingernails were fire engine red, as were her lips.  She was the picture of crimson seduction.

She sat in a corner chair in the bedroom.  Ted stood over the bed.

“I usually look at some porn on my phone,” he said to Lo.

“Go right ahead,” replied Lo.

“I don’t really need to today,” he said shyly.  “I mean, if you don’t mind me looking at you.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess.  You look great,” he said.

“Pull out your cock,” Lo said, not mincing words.

Ted unzipped and reached into his boxers to pull out his long, hefty meat.

“Take off your pants.  You have to aim that thing and those will just be in the way,” said Lo, indicating the plastic cup on the bed that had a diameter of about three inches.  “Come on, don’t be shy.  This is for Cam and Gina.”

He pulled out his cock.  It was limp.

“Mmmmm,” moaned Lo, encouragingly.  She licked her tongue over her pearly white teeth.

“Do you like cock?”

“You have no idea,” she said.  “Do you like tits?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you like mine?” she asked, boosting her tits with her arms so they burst out of her small bra and blouse.

“They’re hot.”

“Jack it.”

Ted began to stroke his cock.

“What turns you on?” asked Lo.

“Um, I, uh, I don’t know,” he said, his cock getting soft again in his hand.

“Tell me.  I won’t tell anyone.”

“I like dirty talk.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“I like women to say nasty things.”

Lo leaned over in her chair.  She rested her head on her hands and her elbows rested on the bed.  Her mouth was mere inches away from his cock.  She looked up at him.

“Cum for me.  Stroke your long, thick cock and cum for me.”

Ted began stroking.  He inched forward toward Lo’s face.

“That’s it.  Pretend I’m a little whore who wants to swallow your hot jiz.”

She put her tongue out and she could tell he was about to cum.  She held up the receptacle to the tip of his penis and. . .

“Holy shit!” said Lo, her face covered in Ted’s torrent.  “You totally missed!”

“What are we going to do now?” he asked, scared.

Lo used her fingers and swiped as much of the sticky pearlescent goo into the container as she could.

“We can’t do that,” protested Ted.

“Shut up and get me a towel.”

Ted complied.

Handing her the towel, he apologized obsequiously.  “I’m so so sorry.  I don’t know how that happened.  I guess I was excited.  I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok,” laughed Lo.  “I liked it.  Now just play it cool.”

“But,” Ted began to protest.

“It’s ok.  Just give them the collection jar.  I don’t wear makeup.  Only on my eyes and luckily you missed my eyes.”

Lo’s Lips

Brass in Pocket

Continued from ICI – Home Insemination with a Known Donor

Lola uses her arms

 

“What do you think you’re going to do with this Ted?” I asked Lo as we drove home from Cam and Gina’s.

“I like to imagine what he’s going to do with me,” she responded, looking out the window into the middle distance as the storefronts and pedestrians streamed by on the illuminated street.

“What does that mean?  You heard them, he’s involved with a guy.”

“Meh,” she sounded, dismissively.

“Meh?  What if you get in the room with him and he can’t get it up?”

“He won’t agree to it if he thought that would happen.”

“What if he doesn’t agree to it?”

“You miss every pitch you don’t swing at.”

“Clever, but in this instance, he’s holding the bat.”

“I sure hope he is!”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I’ve been called worse. . . and I like it.”

“This is Cam and Gina’s attempt at getting pregnant, not your opportunity to turn a trick.”

“When a door closes, a window opens.”

“Will you stop with the platitudes.  They’re not even appropriate.”

“Are you jealous, Daddy?” she asked, suddenly realizing that she might be turning me on with her antics.

“No, I’m confused.”

“There’s nothing to be confused about, Daddy.  It’s all very straightforward.”

“Explain.”

“I love to see men jacking off.  You know that.  You don’t do it for me nearly enough.”

“I hardly have the opportunity; you’re on me before I can even stroke it.”

“Nevertheless.  Here is a perfect chance to see a man do it, live, in person.  Not just photos.”

“But it’s a complicated situation.”

We arrived home.  When we were in the bedroom, we continued the conversation.

“I am troubled by your enthusiasm for this ‘helping hand’ business.”

“It’s not a business. . . yet, but who knows.  Maybe I could become a fertility assistant – like a midwife, but instead of aiding in the birth of a baby, I aid in the ejaculatory process.”

“Lo, be serious for a moment.”

“I was,” she said, deadpan.

“Sometimes I think you believe yourself to be God’s gift to men.”

“And on the eighth day, God said, ‘Let there be Lola.’  Eve can be a helpmate.  I’ll be the playmate.”

“After a day of rest, God had a wet dream and Lo and behold!”

“Lo and behold.  I like that.  I’m Lo, you’re Behold.”

I took out my cock and grabbed it for her.

“To have and to hold, ʼtil death do you part,” she said.

“So, if I were Ted, what would you do?”

“The possibilities are endless.  Should I give him my ass, Daddy?”

“You can’t, remember?  The specimen has to be immaculate.”

“I’m insulted!!!  Are you saying my ass isn’t immaculate?”

“No, I was just saying. . .”

“Immaculate conception, right.  I’m just teasing you.  Should I lick him?”

“Off limits.”

“Jerk him off?”

“No lubricants allowed.”

“I could use my feet.”

“That’s ok.”
She broke into song:

 

Gonna use my arms,

Gonna use my legs,

Gonna use my style,

Gonna use my sidestep,

Gonna use my fingers,

Gonna use my, my, my imagination.

 

With each lyric, she pantomimed the part.  She used her arms to boost up her breasts; she got on her back to spread her legs; she licked her lips slowly, seductively, she put her fingers down her panties, and then, she squirted just as I came.

“I see I got your attention.”

“Yes, you did.  Now, if you can just get Ted to do that.”

“Oh, I will, don’t you worry.”

Lola uses her legs

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