The Body Politic

[An excerpt of the following appeared today in Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine, November, 2020 issue.  Waring, political stuff ahead.]

It’s November of an election year.  And not just any election year, but perhaps the most vitriolic, divisive, and ugly election year ever.  Well, except for 2016.  As I’ve stated before, this sacred, sexy space of ours, this small column in the vast expanse of contemporary writing, steers clear of politics, except for the fact that nothing is a-political anymore.  Writing about sex, celebrating sexuality, and depicting a strong, independent, sexually explicit woman like Lola Down is itself a political act.

Lola as depicted by Roman Doodle

But in this very politicized climate, it is nearly impossible to provide a playground where the ubiquitous partisan battles don’t bleed over the boundaries we have created.  People on the right have appropriated the term “cuck” as a pejorative for the left.  Queer men on the left have appropriated “Proud Boys,” to the consternation of that far-right group.  Just beneath the surface of these slogans and slurs is a swirl of sexual energy, frustration, confusion, and subliminal eroticism misdirected and perverted into hatred and violence.

Misogyny, racism, sexism, gender identity politics, transphobia, homophobia, xenophobia, and politization of polyamory are all interrelated issues, impossible to easily separate into isolated questions.

We live in strange times; times I never thought I’d see.  The President of the United States is a man married (his third marriage, mind you) to a woman born in a different country who had a career as a model, occasionally posing nude and with other nude women in homoerotic images.  And yet, he’s not a radical leftist liberal, but embraced by the conservative Christian right!  He has had numerous affairs with porn stars and other women, yet that hasn’t prevented him from gaining the backing of the Bible Belt.  But his exoneration by the religious right has not been equally applied.  Those who work in the sex industry were not similarly embraced or given the same shame-free-pass as the President.

In 2016 the first female presidential candidate was eviscerated, mainly for wearing a pantsuit.  Yet, in 2020, between Hope Hicks, Kayleigh McEnany, Ivanka Trump, Omarosa Manigault Newman, Mercedes Schlapp, Lindsay Walters, Zina Bash, the First Lady, and others, it is sometimes difficult to tell the difference between the White House and the Playboy Mansion.  Perhaps that is Trump’s appeal to many; he fills the void left by the death of Hugh Hefner.

Hope Hicks (Sorry Hope It's A Gentleman's Club) | Valentino gowns, Beauty, Hair

Hope Hicks gender bending at the W.H.

And all of this tumult and turmoil, not coincidentally, floats to the surface in the wake of eight years of an African American man occupying the White House.

I mention our current and past political theater as a preamble to confronting a porn/erotica trope as ubiquitous and with as long a history as that of the “Lolita” nymphomaniac figure.  I speak of the so-called “Mandingo Myth.”  This deep-seated belief, whose pedigree can be traced as far back as Ancient Greece and Egypt, holds that African men wield sexual appendages that dwarf those of fair-skinned Europeans.  Throughout the ages, the image of the hugely hung black man has been perpetuated as well as perverted in order to promote a racist agenda: The longer the penis, the more bestial the sex-drive, the less human the man and thus the greater the threat to white society, especially its womenfolk.  (See A Mind of Its Own: A Cultural History of the Penis, by David M. Friedman, chapter III, “The Measuring Stick.”)

Lo’s idea of a perfect date

Over the centuries, the long black appendage has been compared to a Priapus (that is, the male fertility god), a donkey, stallion, buck, and even a pre-Adam serpent of the Garden of Eden responsible for Eve’s seduction and the Fall.  Throughout the ages, but most prominently in America from Reconstruction onward, this archetype of the African American man’s exceptional endowment has been the focus of white fear and fetish, engendering multiple myths, none of them ending well for the African American man.  This theme is almost comically depicted in the various King Kong films, but most explicitly in the 1976 version.  Plot: The Petrox Oil Company seeks to plunder a remote island of its oil.  They find no natural resources to make their venture profitable, but they do find and trap King Kong, a preternaturally large black ape.  They return to the U.S. with their unusual cargo.  However, Kong has fallen in love with Dwan (a scantily clad, blonde woman played by Jessica Lange).  Unable to allow such an unfathomable relationship, Kong is killed.  (In the original 1933 version, he climbs the giant phallus, the Empire State Building.  In the ’76 remake, he climbs the World Trade Center buildings, thus doubling the phalli.)  The allegory is quite transparent: white colonialists set out for raw materials, they return with slaves from Africa whose unusual size threatens their white women and must be killed.

King Kong Jessica Lange 8x10 HD Aluminum Wall Art at Amazon's Entertainment Collectibles Store

Jessica Lange in King Kong 1976

A year earlier, in 1975, the same myth was played out, only without the allegorical trappings, in the film Mandingo, based on the 1957 novel by the same name, from which the “Mandingo Myth” gets its label, though its predecessors in white Western mythology predate it by millennia.

Lo and an admirer in the park

How do you measure up?

Unfortunately, today we still find this trope used as both the focus of taboo fetishes (“Blacked” porn, which fetishizes both black men with large cocks and white, usually blonde and petit, women) and phobias for political ends.  For instance, in 2017, Enrique Tarrio, the leader of the Proud Boys, posted a tweet in which he asked if white women would be more willing to donate $20 to Trump’s campaign or walk past a group of black men while wearing a sundress.  (The Daily Mail, 10/1/2020, “Leader of the Proud Boys is the State Director of Latinos for Trump”)

Lola’s fan

In today’s tribal public sphere, there is little we can agree upon, but one thing that is unimpeachable is, as David Friedman says, the one place where race and sex (and we can add politics) converge is the black penis.

Lola’s COVID Gang-Bang Datenight

The long black dong is the symbol of white, male fragility.  It signifies the fear of masculine inadequacy and the homoerotic desire for sexual prowess.  Both symbol and signifier are pointers and the thick, strong, dark schlong is frequently depicted as pointing at the helpless, weak, innocent white blonde.  Copulation by contrast.  This ubiquitous trope penetrates deep in the psyche of our culture.

Just as black men are often reduced to their primal virility as exemplified by the penis, so too women are subtly and explicitly made into a medium for the message communicated by the patriarchal culture.  In recent memory, the collective unconscious probably recalls images from silent black-and-white films of a damsel-in-distress tied to the railroad tracks by the sinister mustachioed villain.  This image is emblematic of an archetype that transcends time and space: the bound female.  Ancient stories span the globe of women tied up – as sacrificial victims, concubines, slaves – from the abduction of Sita in the Ramayana to the afore mentioned Dwan of King Kong and, of course, Princess Leia in her famous Jabba the Hut scene in Return of the Jedi (1983) – project and perpetuate the idea of women as victims in need of a hero.

Lola’s Sexy Shoes

From nude or nearly nude women dancing in cages at clubs, raves, and music concerts, to Taylor Swift reenacting the railroad scene in “Mean,” this trope is conspicuously depicted and sexualized, but there are far more nuanced ways of sending the same message.  What is the message?  Women are weak, needy, helpless, and their power, like Prometheus (an example of gender inversion of the architype) is under wraps.  Notice, if you will, women’s fashion, from undergarments to gowns.  What is a recurring theme?  Straps, bows, knots, strings, and all manner of imagery suggesting restraint while simultaneously revealing skin.  Beyond that, almost every article of clothing is designed to depict weakness, vulnerability, and impotence.  Watch your local or national news, for instance.  How are the men dressed?  Buttoned up shirts, ties, long sleeve jackets revealing the least skin possible.  They are formidable, as if wearing body armor.  And the women?  Blouses cut at the shoulder, plunging necklines, form-fitting soft colored tops.  Imagine for a moment what you would think of a male news anchor reporting in a halter-top made of thin, silky material.

Lola Upskirt

Beyond the blouses, there are the skirts.  Dresses were, perhaps, originally designed to conceal the shape of the woman hidden beneath all the folds and flourishes.  But today, dresses and skirts are designed to inhibit freedom of movement, conceal as little as possible, and leave the woman wearing them vulnerable to the inadvertent upskirt.

Lola in a cute little bow

Working our way down, we next arrive at women’s footwear.  High heels keep a woman off balance.  Not only do they prevent any aggressive action, they inhibit flight.  Women’s dress shoes, for the most part, make them a helpless victim in the face of any danger.  Beyond that, they continue the ligature leitmotif.  Straps, bows, chords, all depict the female foot in a shibari shoe.

Tied Up

It’s important to recall that liberating oneself from the cultural baggage one inherits by virtue of merely being born into a particular time and place is not accomplished by merely adopting the opposite position.  In the dialectical structure, inhabiting the antithesis merely reaffirms the thesis.  It does nothing to diminish the power of the thesis.  Rather, twisting free of the rigid and possibly oppressive cultural constraints is a tricky and subtle art.  It requires first understanding the nature of one’s servitude and then becoming master of it.

Lola is by no means exempt from our culture’s conventions any more than you or I.  However, she does like to play with the tropes and taboos just the way that a good composer doesn’t merely adhere to the rules of the times, but will surprise and delight by contorting them in unexpected patterns.

Lola’s Cock

Of course, in our relationship there is the patent hotwife – cuck/stag – bull roles to be played.  But we emphasize the play of that is inherent in any roleplaying.  Lo has her soft spot for knots (of all variety) and strappy heels, dresses, bras, panties, and even corsets.  She also has her wet spot for BBC.  But it also delights her to wear her strap-on, to wield her cock, and to fuck like a man.  Call her a switch if you wish.  She also oogles and drools over the many fan photos she gets from black bulls endowed with length, girth, and heft she has rarely met in the flesh.  But she also loves her male trans fans who send photos of themselves in their wives’ panties or cumming in their pantyhose.  For, when it comes to sex, the one rule that holds is that nothing is essentially anything.  Existence precedes essence, as the Existentialists mantra goes, meaning, before we had determined male/female, man/woman, straight/queer, black/white, there were just people doing stuff.  Their names, definitions, categories, and expectations of norms all came later.

TV fan of Lola

 

 

 

These observations are meant neither to condemn nor condone the complex cultural code with regard to BBC or BDSM as it manifests in veiled, seemingly innocuous symbols such as popular movies and fashion.  Rather, this thought piece is more along the lines of semiotics (the study of signs and symbols in culture) than a cultural critique.  Signs and symbols perform a function; they point at something.  In this piece, the sign/symbol with which we began was the black penis, which is, innately and ironically, also a pointer.  Perhaps it is pointing at our radical possibility for the future.  I simply wanted to point that out.

Smaller Big Fan of Lola

Lola Down, Putting the Cum back in Community

Hello Friends!

This post will be heavy on the images, light on the writing. I just wanted to let you all know that I, HH, am in the midst of writing a long-form (novelesque?) piece that I hope to be done with by late November. It’s called “Rogue’s Gallery.”  Here are some pre-views.

 

 

Also, in our kink news, as many of you know, we have just published our latest book, Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume VI, SlutLife.  It was supposed to come out in time for summer reading by the beach, but due to some production hiccups, it didn’t get released until September.

SlutLife

At the same time, Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume III: Writing Under Cover, has come out on audio book, narrated by the amazing Jupiter Grant.

Today’s post is to reach out to everyone in our extended virtual kink community and give a shout out to those of you who have supported us in so many ways, especially during these difficult times of limited social connection due to COVID.  We want to hear from all of you, to know how you’re doing and, also, to know if our posts here and our books, have helped you during these very trying times.

 

We have been so blessed by enthusiastic kinksters showing and telling us about their enjoyment of our blog, books, and audio books. We wanted to share with you the people who make this “work” worth it.

We would be remiss if we didn’t give our first shout out to the voice of MySexLifeWithLola, Miss Jupiter Grant. She is a talented narrator (understatement), author, and a sex goddess in her own right.

Jupiter Grant

Next, we recently received this lovely tribute photo from the seductive and interesting Lilith Avair.  She and her Daddy Dom, Michael, (in the second photo) have been crucial to our success. Without Michael’s technical help, this blog wouldn’t exist.

Lilith, Michael, Lola

We also want to give a warm shout out to Lil Gem and her man from PurplesGem. They have been enjoying the books and all of their fans have been enjoying them.

Lil Gem

Lil Gem

Lil Gem

 

 

 

 

Artistic photo of LilGem

Illustration of HH and Lo by LittleGem of purplesgem.com

LilGem’s Daddy has a happy read.

Lil Gem in B&W

Glad Lilgem didn’t get lil’ jealous about this sexy photo.

LittleGem of PurpleGem reads about Lola Down

 

 

 

Nikki reaching for her Lo fetish

In addition to Lil’Gem, we have also had some fun with Darling Nikki of Love Is a Fetish fame. Ain’t it tho?

Nikki and Lola

More of the sexy Nikki from Love is a Fetish.

Fun Fetish Nikki and Lo

More of Nikki

Nikki Nude

We also have been big fans of Floss (as in Floss Does Life)!  And she has shown us some lovin’ too!

Floss of FlossDoesLife
and Match, Cinder & Spark

Floss enjoys her reading.

Floss lets it all hang out.

Floss and Lola illustrated

MORE of Floss:

Beautiful Floss

From Floss’ Review

While this lovely hotwife is out having fun with a bull, her hubby is getting of to Lo.

Karla takes a selfie

 

Karla, the day she became a hotwife.

Karla and Chris

 

10 Years of Carla

Karla and her Bull

Evolution of Karla

Meanwhile, Chris, her hubby, printed out Lola’s photos to enjoy.

Chris Cums on Lo’s Pics

The real you is sexy!

That photo above is from an ad campaign, we just replaced the models with pics of Lola. However, the sentiment is the same – you, all of you, in your different shapes and sizes, are sexy as you are! Nothing is more sexy than feeling yourself to be sexy.

This couple have been enthusiastic fans of ours for a long time, though they don’t have their own blog. He is a professor. She is thinking about getting into the OnlyFans biz. Sam & Alia.

Sam and Alia read Match, Cinder & Spark together.

Our favorite fans are fans who get off to us together.

Alia seems more interested in the book than her hubby’s pud.

One thing leads to another.

But sometimes Sam has to take matters into his own hands.

Alia

Alia & Sam

And then there’s a beautiful blogger who has been creating poetry with the speed and power of lightning. The Lustful Empress.

The Lustful Empress with Lola

Collage of TLE getting off to Lola

Isn’t she just beautifully lustful?

We hope you’ve enjoyed this little tour of some of our friends in the bloggosphere. If you would like a free copy of one of our books in exchange for a sexy photo of you with it and some free publicity from us, just ask.

Of course, back when travel was a thing we did, when HH was apart from Lola, he would send her cumtributes as a token of his love & lust.

Portrait of the author as a horny man.

Stay sexy y’all!

Compersion Perversion

[As published in the October issue of Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine, Lola goes on a date with MILF Meri.]

Lo Casually Masturbating

It was a Thursday.  I was at the office.  All alone again.  During this pandemic and sweltering heatwaves of the summer, working from the office alone actually provided both cool central air (as opposed to our poorly air conditioned apartment) and much valued quiet, alone time, conducive to creativity and, if necessary, work.  Ms. Gale was working from home.  My other employees were working remotely as well.  I was under the impression that Lo, too, was working from home.  That is, until I received an email from her.

It’s unusual for me to get an email from Lo.  Text, phone call, even the unexpected in-person appearance for a booty-call are all to be expected.  But rarely an email.  Unless something is wrong, or the landlady has written to her demanding the rent, asking for a favor, or passing along complaints from the neighbors about the volume levels, frequency, and inconvenient late hours of Lo’s orgasmic operatic arias.

But this email was different.

“Guess where I am,” it read, enigmatically.

“At home, doing work,” I replied, unimaginatively.

“Nope.”

“Is this Twenty Questions, or can I just ask, where are you?”

“I’m in the park.”

It was another sunny, hot as hell day in the city.

“OK.” I wrote back.

“I have my computer.  I’m ‘working remotely’ from here.  That’s why I’m using my email.”

“Why do you put ‘working remotely’ in quotes?”

“Guess who I’m with.”

“Bill Murray.”

“No silly!  Meri!!!”

“Oh, that’s why you put ‘working remotely’ in quotes.”

“Yeah.  She wrote to me this morning and said that she told her husband she can’t take being cooped up in the house with the kids any longer.  She’s going to the park to get away and work.  But she had invited me and so we’re both here, pretending to work, but doing a lot more suntanning than working.”

“Which park?” I asked.

“Guess.”

“Lo,” I wrote, in the tone of voice I take with her when she’s being naughty, “I actually have work to do.”  These multiple, terse emails were not conducive to getting anything done.

“Fine,” she replied, “the park next to your office.”

My office faces out onto the street, but my employee’s office, in the back of the building, looks out onto a small oval park in the midst of the other businesses.

“Do you want to come by the window and see what I’m wearing, or not wearing?”

How could I resist?

I walked across the reception room area where Ms. Gale has her desk, into the back office.  I glanced out the window and sure enough I saw my little Lo, ass up, her computer in front of her, her admirer behind her, seated about ten feet away.  There were streets hemming in the small sward, but full sun upon my nymph and her MILF.

Allow me to paint the scene for you.  Unlike the last time these two met in the park, this time Lo came prepared to bask in the sun.  She was lying on her tum, her legs bent at the knee and her feet dangling in the air.  She had her computer in front of her.

Behind her, sitting in a beach chair, was Meri, watching.  She sat, ostensibly reading a book, but she was really just spying on Lo.  The way the two of them were in relation to each other, it did not appear that they were together or knew one another.  And I was spying on both of them.  I don’t know if Lo or anyone could see me watching from above.  If Lo noticed my presence, she made no sign of it.

Lo was wearing nothing but a very tiny bikini top and a pink thong bikini bottom.  It literally was no more than a spaghetti strap covering basically none of her ass.  I was familiar with it because she had bought it on sale last fall and was so eager to wear it that she tried it on for me at home, pretending to be on the beach showing off.  A fun little game for both of us!

Lo’s Thong Askew

It wrapped around from her crotch and, when placed just so, concealed only the bare essentials of her letter ‘i’ – if you know what I mean.  From a distance, it looked as if she was wearing nothing at all on the bottom.  And I was not the only one to think that.  Sitting around the two of them on the shaded park benches were old ladies and moms with strollers and the occasional businessman out for air or a stolen glance of Lo’s delectable derrière.  I could tell that the lecherous men interspersed with a few lascivious women were all trying their utmost best to give the appearance of doing something, anything else besides what they were doing – watching Lo.  It takes one to know one, I thought.

Lo was keenly aware of her audience, but she was performing for only one.  Meri, for her part, sat slightly askew to Lo.  She wore heels, a pink skirt that stopped just short of her knees, and a grey tank-top that accentuated her large breasts, revealing lots of cleavage and that she was wearing no bra.  She wore a baseball cap and dark sunglasses in addition to her mask, as if she were a movie star trying to stay incognito.

Lo’s performance was exquisite.  Every once in a while she would reach back behind her and ‘adjust’ her bikini bottom, as if it was riding up her ass uncomfortably.  She would pull at it so nothing was concealed, at least not to Meri, and then let it go again with an audible snap.  Occasionally she would put sunscreen in her hand and run her index finger from her pussy over her balloon knot, as if to insure that those delicate parts wouldn’t burn.

From my vantagepoint, I couldn’t help but think that the sun shines from 94 million miles away for one reason only: to illuminate, warm, and tan Lo’s perfectly spherical double-orbed bronzed rear.  It was as if Helios himself was looking down intently upon Lo’s sexy little ass and the oppressive, powerful rays of light were his enormous erection aching to feel the pleasure of that posterior, but burning hotter because infinitely frustrated by the impossibility of a non-material substance’s concupiscence being quenched by the corporeal object of its affection.

Lo pretended to be oblivious to it all, typing away on her computer as if deeply engrossed by her work emails.

Even in my airconditioned office, I was growing warm from the sight.  Since no one is allowed to come to my office due to the pandemic, I don’t even bother putting on a suit anymore.  It’s strictly t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops for me this summer.  That’s not my office attire, that’s my everything attire.

I also was growing hard in my khaki shorts.  Seeing Lo nearly nude in the middle of the pedestrian and otherwise non-nude plaza, literally the center of attention in the circle of voyeurs, and me, up there, voyeuristically observing from on high, with who-knows-how-many-others lurking in the windows, was appealing to my compersion perversion.

Just when I thought the scene could not get any better, an older gentleman (I use the term loosely) wearing slacks and a button-down sky-blue casual long-sleeve shirt walked over the green grass directly towards Lo.  He squatted down to talk to her.  She turned her head toward him and then rolled over on her back, propping herself up with her elbows.  Then, for the first time I saw that she had on the bikini top with adjustable cups and she had adjusted them to a very narrow setting, exposing most of her breasts, her side-boobs bulging out.

She looked up at the man and struck up a conversation with him.  I could see practically her entire chest falling out from where I sat and I’m sure that that man had a close-up view of it.  I could see Lo smiling at him in her flirtatious way as he continued to engage her in whatever small talk they were pursuing.

I’m sure this gave Lo the triple pleasure of teasing the man while simultaneously making Meri jealous and me mad with admiration of her hotwife hospitality.  I could see Lo glance from her interlocutor to Meri, making sure that the latter was catching it all.  And I could see Meri watching with great interest.

As Lo continued to talk to the man, she seemingly absentmindedly spread her legs, revealing the tiny triangle of material covering her smooth mons pubis, and she thoughtlessly placed her hand down there as if adjusting the bathing suit or scratching an itch.  This allowed Meri a direct line of sight into Lo’s labial lodestar.

I guess Lo’s male conversationalist eventually ran out of things to say.  I saw him pass Lo something that looked like a business card and then say his adieu.  He walked away and I saw Lo smile like the scapegrace she is at Meri and Meri smiled back.  They were like two schoolgirls pulling one over the teacher.

Lo reached down between her legs and quickly pulled back the bikini bottoms for Meri to get an unobstructed view for a brief moment of bliss.  In return, Meri spread her legs and, though I couldn’t see it, flashed Lo a glimpse of her crotch, unadorned by any panties.  (I did later confirm this with Lo.)

From my perch I could comfortably enjoy all of the sexual psychological angles: between Lo and Meri; the older women on the periphery and Lo; the younger women on the sidelines and Lo, the men and Lo; as well as Lo’s basking in the attention of all of them just as she basked in the bright sunlight as if it were her spotlight on the stage.

HH – Hot & Hard

The psycho-sexual dynamics had me rock hard in my shorts and just as I was contemplating relieving the tension, I heard the faint sound of keys and then the turning of the lock on the office door.  Before I could scramble to see who was there (especially when no one was supposed to be there), in walked Ms. Gale wearing denim shorts and a gingham button down shirt, tied up in the middle to reveal her midriff.  It covered only her shoulders and breasts, though it was unbuttoned enough to reveal much cleavage.

“Ms. Gale?” I almost shouted in shock.

“Mr. H?!” she shot back.

I was keenly aware that I had a huge erection in my shorts and that Lo and her special lady friend were frolicking outside the window by which I sat.

“Why are you here?” we both asked simultaneously.

“This is my office,” I said, authoritatively.  Though, actually, I wasn’t in my office.

“I thought you put on the calendar that you were on vacation this week.”

“Oh, I had, that’s true,” I said, “but COVID put an end to our travel plans.  So, here I am.  And you?”

“It was too hot in my apartment to work.  I only have one window unit and with the temperatures in the hundreds, it doesn’t get much colder than about eighty-seven.  I just couldn’t take it anymore.  I thought that, since you were away, I’d work in the office and utilize the central air.”

“I see,” I said, still too hard to stand up.

“Why aren’t you in your office?” she asked.

“Well, I, uh,” I stumbled for a plausible answer.  “I got bored of the view,” I said.

“Oh, is the view from that window better?  I thought it just looked out onto the park,” she said as she moved toward the window to look out.  I desperately didn’t want her to do that!

She did and we both looked outside.  To my great surprise, there was no sign of Lo and Meri!!!

“It’s just a different view,” I said casually.

She looked out the window, bending over, displaying her round rear to me in the tight shorts.

“You like the view?” she asked, enigmatically.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.  “I rarely see it like this,” I said, looking at her ass.

“I’m glad you like it,” she said.  “You should take more time to smell the roses.  You’re always working,” she added as she returned to standing in front of me.  Little does she know that more often than not, when she thinks I’m assiduously working on a legal brief, I’m actually writing this torrid encomium to Lola.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” I said like a judge.  “But for now, I’ll let you have the office to yourself.  You know, we must be socially distant.”  I said it as if I were explaining to her that we need to be sexually distant.

“You don’t have to go,” she said.  “I mean, you could just work in a separate office.  I don’t mean to push you out.”

I was eager to catch up with Lola.

I put away the files I had been working on before Lo’s email and headed toward where I thought I’d find Lo and Meri.  Five minutes into my walk, I was already drenched in sweat.  I felt like I was suffocating due to the high temperatures and humidity.  Making matters worse, I had to wear that asphyxiating mask!  But I was determined.

I walked up the busy street from my office and was about to despair of my loss, but then I spied the two women sitting in front of the ice cream shop.  They each were seductively eating their treats from cups.  I took a seat not too far away from my nymph.  I didn’t worry about being discovered.  I had on dark sunglasses and my bandana mask.  Very little of my face could be seen and, as an added benefit, Meri had never met me.  To the best of my knowledge, she had no idea what I looked like.

The two of them were engrossed in conversation.  I watched for as long as I could, but the sun was baking me.  Eventually, convinced that I wasn’t missing anything of great import, I decided to return home, take a cool shower, and await Lo’s return.

I was on the couch in the living room when I heard the front door abruptly open and close.  I heard Lo scamper down the hall to the bedroom and master bath.  She too hopped in the shower first thing, but not to engage in the usual self-pleasure that she frequently enjoys in there.  No, it was a quick rinse and then, from the living room I heard her masturbatory moans.

I quietly walked down the hall.  The AC was on in the bedroom and so Lo didn’t hear me.  I slowly opened the bedroom door and couldn’t believe my eyes!  Instead of pounding her pussy with a dildo of enormous magnitude, she was sliding my Stoya Fleshlight up and down her lower lips, pressing Stoya’s labia into her own, dripping her wetness all over the prosthetic pussy.  Her eyes were closed and with her free hand she was plucking her nipples.

“Lo,” I said in a gentle tone.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” she screamed as she jumped a mile.  “What the hell are you doing home?!”  It was almost an accusation.

“I’m sorry, Darling,” I said before explaining the surprise visit by Ms. Gale and then asking her, “What the hell are you doing with my Fleshlight?”

“I hate the COVID bullshit!” she lamented.  “I want a pussy.  I want Meri’s pussy.  I want to fuck someone who is not you.  No offence,” she said after realizing what she had said.  “I just want. . .”

“No offence taken,” I said sarcastically.  “How could that possibly be offensive?”

“You know what I mean.  Of course I want to fuck you too, but I also want to be able to fuck others as well.”

“You have,” I reminded her.  “The brothers.  Remember?”

Stoya Licking her own Pussy

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, putting Stoya back on her cunt.  “That’s for them, not for me.  They’re young men, full of testosterone and they need my sweet release, especially in this pandemic.  I spread my legs, they slip in my honeypot and unload.  That’s all for them.”

“Oh, you get nothing out of it?” I asked sarcastically.  “You’re just a simple orgasm donor?”

She laughed, “I get something out of it.  I mean, I cum, yes.  And it pleases me to be their goto girl, their flesh-and-blood Fleshlight.  I won’t deny, that turns me on.  I like being their easy access.  Their cum dump.  The thought of guys’ balls aching for my cunt and unloading into me because I can provide for them what they so desperately need is an incredible turn-on.  But I want a woman.  I want someone who will take time to pleasure me, give me what I want, know what I want.  Not just ram it in deep and hard to prove how big and strong they are.  I want Meri.”

She returned to sliding and pressing the Fleshlight’s lithe labia up against her own swollen and supple lips, causing a suction sound as her own secretions lubricated the point of contact.  She reached down with her free hand and began circling her clit with her index finger.  She did all this as if I wasn’t even there.  Oblivious to me and all else but her imagination and the feel of her pussy slip-sliding against another pussy, she was soon squirting a stream of climactic juices directly into the parted prosthetic pussy.  The receptacle, upside down, simply dribbled out the contents back onto and into Lo’s already soaked and dilated source.

She took a few deep breaths.  I stood silently awaiting her command, request, or even insinuation to fill her with my meat.  But, instead she reached for her phone.  She made a call and said, “Hi.  Yeah.  Another leak.  Can you come over and fix it right away?”

She turned to me and asked, “Will you let them in?”

“Who?”

Then the doorbell rang.

I walked down the hall and admitted the two brothers.  It was the same uncomfortable silence between us as it had been before.  Merely sheepish grins and a little nod of the head as they walked toward their destination.  They no longer needed to be shown the way.

They walked into the bedroom, saw Lola splayed out on the bed naked, Fleshlight beside her body, sheets soaked, and they immediately dropped their pants.  They didn’t even bother to take off their shoes or their shirts.  Kids these days.

Lola: “Fuck me.”

“Fill me, fuck me, pump me, pound me, use me, abuse me, whip me, worship me,” said Lo, spreading her legs further, bending her knees and slapping her cum-slathered pussy.

One of the boys pulled her to the edge of the bed and penetrated her.  She briefly looked up at me, her head upside-down, from the bed, before her eyes rolled back.  The boy was rock hard and eager.  His brother stood by the bed watching, cock in hand, stroking, and patient.  Within moments, the first reached his climax inside her.

Pulling out, he stepped aside for his brother to have his chance.  Lo rolled over onto her hands and knees, raising her ass for him to have her.  He easily slid into her soaking holes.  I saw her wince just a little as he entered the tighter of the two.  But soon he was alternating back-and-forth at whim.  Now the other brother watched and, to my amazement, grew hard as he did so.  What amazing recovery time!

Lola: “Fill me.”

After the more active brother drove his point home in Lo’s rear, he pulled out and they both watched as Lo oozed, cooed, and creamed.

Then the first returned to the pole position.

I could see that Lo, by this point, was almost bored.  Her head was resting on her hands and she looked up at me, unconcerned about what was happening beyond her shoulders.

“Daddio,” she said, “will you pass me my phone?”

Her phone was on her nightstand on the other side of the bed, by the boys.  I walked around the bed, past the brother who was slamming his shaft deep into my hotwife’s pussy at the time, past the other brother who was eagerly awaiting his chance for another deep dive in her, and grabbed the phone.  I walked back around to the side of the bed by the door and passed it to Lo.

She pressed some buttons, preoccupied with the phone and not at all occupied with the activities behind her, and looked up at me again.  “If I order a pizza, what would you like on it?” she asked in a quiet voice, as if the boys and her bum were in another room and she didn’t want to disturb them.

It seemed a most unusual question for the moment.  I must have looked puzzled.  “I’m hungry,” she added by way of explanation.

“Mushrooms and onions,” I said unthinkingly.

“Oh, hi,” Lo said into her phone.  At the very same time, the first brother finished, ejaculating in long shots on Lo’s back.  I guess Lo was put on hold briefly because she was quiet for a moment.

The second brother asked Lo, “Do you want more?”  He was clearly confused by Lo’s phone call.

Lo turned her head over her shoulder and said, “Go ahead.  You can have it.  Try to be quick.”

I heard a voice from the phone ask, “Yes, can I help you?”

Lo’s attention was back to her pizza order as the boy behind her grabbed her hips and pulled them towards his erect phallus.  “Yeah, could I get one sausage pizza and one with onions and mushrooms?”

Lo Placing an Order for Pizza

The boy behind her returned to his favorite alternating ass/puss, ass/puss plunging.  I could see him spreading her cheeks with both hands as he pulled out and pressed in.

“Medium,” said Lo into the phone and then looking up at me she asked, “Medium big enough for you?”

I nodded.

“Yeah, two mediums,” she said into the phone again.  “OK.  Yes.  Delivery please.  Great.  Thank you.”  She hung up and put the phone by her side.

Allowing her head to fall into the pillow, she reached back and pulled her ass cheeks apart, allowing her paramour to use his hands in other ways.  He reached under her and grabbed her doughy tum and squeezed.

“You going to cum?” Lo asked.

He grunted.

I guess she could feel him building.  “Come on.  You got two in you, don’t you?  You like my ass?  You like it,” she said.  She moved her fingers to her ass and felt him sliding in and out of her.  He was ready.  She was giving him a hand-job as he entered and exited her posterior.  Lo’s instincts kicked in and she turned abruptly and opened her mouth to receive his fill.  He grabbed his cock with one hand and her head with the other, pulling her mouth onto his shaft.  He began to cum and then pulled out of her mouth and sprayed the rest on her face.  She was drenched.

She looked up at him and asked, “Feeling better?”

The first brother already had his pants on.  The second, who had just finished, reached down to pull up his from around his ankles.

“Thanks Lo,” he said.

“Say hi to your mom,” Lo said.

“Enjoy your dinner,” he replied.

They let themselves out.

Lo fell backwards and, lying on the bed, she looked up at me and asked, “Will you get the pizza and tip the delivery guy?”

“Maybe you should.”

She contemplated that idea.  “Like I am?”

“Exactly.”

Lola Filled, but not full

When the bell rang, she walked to the door, dripping from the boys’ icing on her face and shoulders, and, opening the door, took the two pizzas in hand and gave a few dollars in tip.

I awaited her return in the dining room.

“What was his reaction?” I asked as she placed the pizzas on the table.

She laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“It was a woman.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“What was her reaction?”

“A cross between shock and disgust.”

“Too bad.”

“Why?”

“I thought you were going for shock, awe, and arousal.”

“I’ll take disgust.”

She grabbed a slice of pizza.  No plate.  She didn’t even sit down.  She stood by the table, naked, and ate it with fervor.  “Sorry, Daddy,” she said, mouth full.

“Sorry for what?”

“What I said before.  You understand, though, don’t you?”

“Yes Lo,” I said, sincerely, not sarcastically.  I felt love, compassion, and patience.  “But,” I added, “you need to clean up Stoya and the sheets.”

“I will,” she said, obediently.

I had a slice of pizza and cracked open a beer.

“Is there a reason you had the boys rather than me?” I finally asked.

“Yes,” she said, with no explanation.  She continued eating.

“Care to enlighten me?”

“I like to be used.”

“You didn’t even cum.”

“No, because I wanted Meri.  But, I’ll cum later to the thought of them and this afternoon.”

“With me or without me?”

“If you’re lucky, both.”

After dinner, she strutted to the bedroom to clean up.  I followed.

“What a mess!” she said at the sight.  “Isn’t it wonderful?!”  She dove into the bed.  “It smells like sex.”

“Just like you,” I said sarcastically.

When she got up to strip (the bed that is, since she already was naked as the day she was born) I asked her, “Who was that man talking to you in the park?”

“Oh, him?”

“Yeah, him.”

“Just a creep.  He just wanted a closer look at me.”

“You sure gave it to him.”

“You saw?” she asked, flattered that I took in her stunning act.

“Yes, I saw.  What did he give you?”

“His business card.”

“What sort of business is he in?”

“He says he’s a photographer and he asked if I would be interested in any boudoir photography done of me.”

“Really?  Where’s his card?”

She bent over by the side of the bed and dug through her little beach bag.  “Here it is.”

She gave it to me.

“I see,” I said, reading it.  “You going to take him up on it?”

“I don’t know.  Do you want me to?”

“Let me think about it.  Did you and Meri have a good time?”

“What do you think?”

“I think she’s at home doing exactly what you just did.”

“Eating pizza?”

 

10 Yoga Poses

[We offer here a sneak peek at the article just released in Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine, September 2020 Issue.  Here is ENM’s editor’s introduction to the story:

Hermann Humbert, writer for www.mysexlifewithlola.com and husband to beautiful hotwife Lola Down has been contributing stories about Lola’s exploits with us for months… this one may be the hottest one yet!!! You can read this story in its entirety right now in our September issue of ENM Magazine on Kindle, or we will publish it as a Patreon exclusive later this month.

Illustrations by H.H.]

Ten Yoga Poses

Dear Reader, you may recall that Roy and Gary are the young, twenty-something brothers from across the street with whom Lo has become acquainted back before COVID-19 shuttered us all in.  She seems to enjoy toying with them the way one might with two adorable puppies.  One day, not long ago, as things began reopening, she amused herself by going on a date with them to do some clothes shopping.

They went to a nearby mall and they followed her as she bounced from store to store trying on skirts, blouses, dresses, and shoes.  She would make them wait close to the dressing room to render an opinion for her.  Unless it was two thumbs up, or rather, four thumbs up and two cocks up, she didn’t make a purchase.  This scratched two itches for Lo: 1) flirting in the flesh and; 2) shopping.

This little tease titillated her and the boys for hours.

She told me all about it, eager to arouse my jealousy, when I got home from work, but she was let down when she realized that I was quite pleased with her excursion because it saved me countless hours of waiting by the dressing room for her to toggle back and forth between her natural impulse to purchase and her attempt to avoid buyer’s remorse.

“I bet you’d like to see me toggling back and forth between Roy’s dick and Gary’s,” she said, latching onto that word which placed the naughty image in her dirty mind.

“If it makes you happy,” I said, appearing aloof and disinterested in her foolish frolics.

She stomped her foot out of frustration and beat her fists on my chest, playfully.

“You will change your tune!” she said.

“My tune?  What will be my tune?”

“I Want You.”

“You do?  I thought you wanted your two boy-toys.”

“No, silly.  I Want You, by the Beatles.  That will be your tune.”

“You know, the subtitle to that song is, ‘She’s so Heavy’”

She flipped me the bird and said, “Of course you would know that.”

“But I think you’re just right.”

“So do the boys,” she added.  “Finally, a package deal: FOBO.”

“What is ‘FOBO’?”
“Fuck one, blow one.”

“I see.  And here I thought you just liked the company while you shopped.”

“I do!” she said enthusiastically.  “And I got this,” she said as she pranced around the room like an exotic dancer on stage.

“What?” I asked, befuddled.

“These,” she said, prancing around some more, her hands on her hips.

“Your hips?”

“No, silly.  These jeans.  They’re $250 jeans, but you’d never guess what I got them for.”

Lola’s New Jeans

“You blew a kiss to the shop clerk.”

“No.  Don’t be daft.”

“You blew the shop clerk.”

“If only.  But he was clearly not into my type.”

“Slutty?”

“I’m offended.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I meant, horny with a young man on each arm.”

“No.  He wasn’t into women at all.”

“I see.”

“Don’t you want to know what I got them for?”

“Who, the two young men?”

“No!  The jeans.”

“Oh, right.  What did you get them for?”

“It doesn’t matter now.  What matters is what I’ll get out of them for.”

“What will you get out of them for?”

“The two brothers.  They’re coming over.”

As she said that, there was a knock at the door.  I answered it and let in Roy and Gary, not knowing who was who.  Once they were in, Lo blurted out, “They say I need some caulk.”

“What?”

“Yeah, a lot of caulk.”

“Really?”

“Yes, to fill all the holes.”

“How’s that?”

“They just stick it in there and out it comes.  Voila!  There might be some overflow, but we can just wipe that up.”

“Sounds like you know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, I’ve handled caulk before.”

“You have?”

“Oh yeah.  Lot’s of times.  I’m practically a pro with caulk.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.  One hand.  Even two!”

During this whole performance, the boys just stood around and looked on dumbly.

“Where’s the bathroom?” one of them asked.

“Right down the hall there,” I said, pointing to it.

“And the caulk?” asked the other.

“I thought you two brought your own,” I said.

“No, silly,” said Lo.  She then went into our little tool drawer and pulled it out, along with a caulk gun, a box cutter, a sponge and a bucket.”

“Here you go,” she said to the other brother.

“Oh, caulk!” I said, with enthusiasm.  “I thought you were talking about. . . ah, never mind.”

“Yeah, what did you think we were talking about?” asked Lo, as if she hadn’t meant to confuse me all along.

She led the second boy down the hall and showed him the seam where the tub meets the tile and how discolored it had become.

The two boys set to work while Lo went into the adjacent master bedroom and slipped out of her jeans.  She wore only her thong and her blouse.  They were unaware until she called into the bathroom and offered a cool drink.  The boys looked up, dumbfounded.

Lola’s Thong and Blouse

“Uh, sure,” said one of them.

“Two lemonades ok?”

“Fine,” said the other, drawing out the vowel as if talking about Lo and not the lemonade.

Lo turned and went to the kitchen to grab the drinks for the boys.

“Don’t turn up the heat too much,” I said to her.

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked like Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind.

She turned tail and walked away from me.  I followed just to see what would happen next.

She went into the bathroom and bent over to the kneeling brothers and handed them the drinks.  “Oh, that looks much better!” she said of their job.  Truth be told, it was a hack job by two amateurs.  That didn’t matter to Lola.  That was strictly beside the point.  All the more reason to invite a professional contractor in and give him an encore performance of her Emmy Award winning act.

The boys, clearly distraught at the difficulty of the task and the distraction of Lo, wiped the little sweat from their brows and drank the lemonade.

“Maybe now that you fixed that so quickly, you two could help me with something else,” she said.  I was very curious what she had in mind, as were our two fix-it men.

Lo crawled across the bed, her ass cheeks seductively contorting like a proud lynx prancing before her prey.  She got to the edge, her top half disappeared off the side of the bed, and then reemerged with her Hitachi.  She looked over at the captivated cherubs and said, “I don’t know if the motor blew out or what, but I can’t seem to get it to turn on.”

The boys practically fumbled over each other trying to get to her.  As they did, she cast me a knowing look.  She had just used the masturbatory machine that morning.

One of the boys held it, flipping the switch on and off to no avail as the other inspected the wire.  Both of them stood over Lo’s prostrate body on the bed.  She smiled up at them.

“Did I overdo it?” she asked.  If there was a portmanteau that combined ‘innocently’ with ‘guiltily,’ like the word frenemy, then that would be how she asked that question.  And what a frenemy she was to me just then!

One of the boys flipped a switch on the power cord under the bed and the giant white ball began vibrating ferociously in the other’s hand.

“You did it!” squealed Lo.

“Yeah,” said the one who flipped the switch.  “You must have tripped the circuit breaker on this,” he said, holding up the power cord and showing Lo the emergency shut off button (that I’m sure Lo purposely shut off for just this reason).

“Oh, I see,” she said.  “Thanks!”  She spread her legs wide, indicating where the vibrating ball of the Hitachi should go.

The one holding it eventually got the hint.  He placed it between her legs, over her thong.

“Yeah,” said Lo lustily.

He let it rest there for a while.  Lo rotated her hips to get the vibrations where she wanted them.

“Turn it on hi-power,” she instructed.  He obeyed.  Lo raised her hips and pulled down her bra.  The other brother reached down and began pinching her nipples as Lo cupped her tits with her hands.

“Yeah,” she moaned again, “do that.”  Lo slowly unbuttoned her blouse and then removed it to let him see and touch her breasts.

She looked up at the boys and asked, “You two have been under strict quarantine?”

“Yes,” replied one of them.

“No going out?  No seeing anyone?” asked Lo.

“Yeah,” said the other, “not for the past two or three months.”

“No girlfriends?”

They both laughed a little.  “Even if we had girlfriends, which we don’t, our mom would never let us see them.  Not during this pandemic.”

Lo ran her tongue over her teeth as she looked up, her head very close to their bulging cocks.  “So, you two haven’t been able to. . .”  Before she finished her sentence, she grabbed the Hitachi and manipulated it to flip her switch and, without warning she was convulsing, cursing, and cumming with a wave of wetness flowing over her thong, soaking the bed covers.  All the time, I watched in silence from the doorway.

The two guys gawked at Lo’s percolations.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” she said to the two of them when she caught her breath.

Each of them looked over at me standing in the doorway, smirking just a little at Lo’s mode of flirtation.

She slid out of her soaked panties and asked, “Who’s first?” as she spread her legs wide and smacked her pussy.

One of the boys pulled down his pants and pulled out his cock.  He was large and very hard.

Lo licked her lips at the sight of it.  She turned on her tum.

Anahatasana – Melting Heart Pose

  1. Anahatasana – Melting Heart Pose

She rotated horizontal on the bed and got into the anahatasana, or melting heart pose, protruding her ass over the side of the bed prominently, while her arms were stretched out far in front of her head.

The boy whose pants were down – Roy or Gary? – slid in and Lo showed her appreciation with a long low moan.  As he was sliding in and out of her, his brother dropped his pants around his ankles.  He tapped out his brother and tapped into Lo with enthusiasm.  Lo seemed to enjoy the change of length, girth, and rhythm.  His brother stood next to him spreading Lo’s ass wide apart for his brother’s easy access.

Without warning, Lo’s body involuntarily squeezed him out – the first physiological sign that she’s about to have a violent squirting orgasm.

“You’re going to have to ride that pony better than that if you want to stay in the saddle,” I jibed, knowing full well how difficult it is to avoid slip-sliding out when her trap squeezes shut.

“Let me try,” said the other brother, thinking he’d have the superior technique.  He slid right in after Lo’s sprinkle (which soaked all the clothes on the floor) had subsided.

Bitilasana – Cow Pose

  1. Bitilasana – Cow Pose

Lo propped her torso up on both arms and her back made a concave curve causing her ass to protrude upward.  She used her arms to push backward to meet the boy’s thrusts.  Bang, bang, bang he bounced off of her butt.  Smack, smack, smack she slid down on his rod, her tits flailing forward and back with the rapid back-and-forth of her torso.  I should mention that, unlike in the first position, when she had her head down, facing the bed, now she was looking directly at me as she took the shocks from behind.  Our eyes were locked and she was feeding off of how much delight I took in her sexual prowess.

“Fuck me!” she commanded over her shoulder, as if he wasn’t giving it his all already.  “Come on, can’t you do better than that?”  She was just taunting him now.  I knew very well that she wasn’t used to this sort of rough ride.  The poor young fellow put so much force into it that I was worried he might pull a muscle in his back.

I saw Lo’s fingers curl up and clutch the bed sheets as if she were hanging on vertically to the bed, trying not to fall.  I saw her toes curl and I knew what was about to happen.

Sure enough, she shot contestant #2 right out of her convulsing cunt just as forcefully as she ejected the first one, followed by a torrent of orgasmic flow.

The two brothers watched, amazed at the quantity and velocity of her ejaculation.

Balasana – Child Pose

  1. Balasana – Child Pose

Lo curled up her knees under her and stretched her arms out far in front of her, tucking her head down between her arms as she caught her breath.  The boys were polite enough to give her the time she needed to recuperate.  They stood there, flanking her naked body, like silent sentinels at attention, their spears raised.

“Slide your hand over her soaking snatch,” I instructed them, breaking my silence.

“What?”

“Slide your hand over her soaking snatch,” I repeated.

The kid did what I said.

“Now, use that to rub around her asshole.”

“Daddy,” Lo objected.  She doesn’t like vulgarity to be used about her body.

“Around her special spot,” I corrected myself.

The kid did as he was told.  Lo moaned.

“Slide it in, gently.  Not too quickly.”

This kid needed step-by-step diagrams.

Lo moaned again.

“When she feels loose, insert two fingers.  She likes that.”

“Loose?” Lo asked, looking up at me from the bed.

“Relatively loose,” I corrected.

Uttana Shishosana – Extended Puppy Pose

  1. Uttana Shishosana – Extended Puppy Pose

Lo extended her arms out in front of her and lifted her ass up in the air for the boys to have it closer to their level.  Her knees were still tucked under her torso.  One of the brothers was wiggling his finger in her rear.  He eventually added a second finger.  The other brother held his cock in his hand, gawking awkwardly.

Lo was making small circles with her ass.  She moved one hand and slapped her ass cheek hard.  She did it again.  She looked back over her shoulder, enjoying the view of the brother with his cock in his hand.

Eventually she began to inch backwards, sliding off of the bed.

Uttanasana – Forward Fold Pose

  1. Uttanasana – Forward Fold Pose

Standing, Lo bent over at the hip, deeply plunging her torso down toward the floor as the young fella plunged his two fingers deeply in her ass.

“That’s enough,” said Lo.  “Fuck my ass.”

Both boys looked bewildered at the bounty of benefits they were getting.  The one who had been holding his cock took the lead and slid it right into her accommodating back door.

As he was going at her, Lo put her hands around her ankles and held the pose perfectly.  Though I couldn’t see from my vantage point, I imagine that she was looking up at the action from down below.

Eventually the other brother maneuvered onto the bed and sat in front of Lo.  Lo pulled up her torso out of the folded pose and placed her mouth on the boy’s rigid cock, sucking and slurping.  I was very impressed with the endurance both these youths had.

Malasana – Garland Pose

  1. Malasana – Garland Pose

Lo was very capable of bringing the brother before her to climax, but she was very careful not to.  Instead, she pulled forward, leaving Mr. Backdoor standing firm.  She lifted her lips up off of the cock they had covered with wet caresses, and she climbed up on the bed.

“You,” she said.  I think she was as confused as to who was Gary and who was Roy as I was.  “You, come here,” she commanded like a director on set before a shot.  She placed him flat on the bed, his staff protruding upward.

She straddled him, facing him.  Her hands grabbed her ass cheeks and spread them wide apart as she slowly lowered herself down on his eager erection, penetrating deep into her pussy.  She remained on her feet over him.

“You,” she instructed to the other brother, Mr. Backdoor.  “Get behind me and back in my ass,” she said, still spreading her ass cheeks apart.

He responded rapidly, hopping on the bed and, on his knees, sliding up and in her awaiting hole.

Now she had both brothers inside her.  She extended her hands in front of her to keep her balance and their pistons alternated in-and-out of her like a two-cylinder engine.  She moved her right hand down to her clit and began circling her bean.  Knowing Lola as I do, I knew that this move always preceded —————-

There it is!  Like a whale spout going off, her high pressure pussy precipitated all over the boy beneath her accompanied by her tirade of Tourette’s-like string of profanities.  I think she actually scared both boys.

Ustrasana – Camel Pose

  1. Ustrasana – Camel Pose

The boy behind her slipped out of her ass as Lo was drenching his brother caught between her legs.  Lo, thinking he was on the cusp of cumming himself, turned around rapidly and enveloped his cock with her mouth, taking it deep into her throat.  She could feel how powerfully the pressure was building.  At precisely the right moment, she pulled off his cock, drooped her head back, and grabbed onto her ankles with her hands, displaying her chest prominently for the young man to douse with his abundant display of gratification.

Covered in one brother’s cum, the second brother still lying between her spread legs, Lo leaned forward to lick clean any remnants of the first brother’s ejaculate.  But then she devoted her full attention to the second brother.

Lo turned over, and lay on the boy’s sculpted torso, slathering him in the cum that was on her breasts.  She kissed the brother on the lips, open mouth, and slid, kissing her way down his neck, shoulders, chest, stomach, and right down to his rock-solid passion pillar.

When her mouth had alighted on the object of her desire, she turned to the other brother and said, “Hold it for me.”

“What?” he asked in disbelief.

“Hold his cock for me.”

Having been the beneficiary of Lo’s abundant generosity, he obliged.  He reached out with his right hand and held his brother’s phallus firmly for Lo to lavish attention on it with her labia.

Marjaryasana – Cat Pose

  1. Marjaryasana – Cat Pose

Lo was on her knees, supporting herself with her arms, drooping her head down and lightly licking the tip of the youth’s cock as his brother controlled the large limb with his right hand, circling it around Lo’s lips and slapping it on her cheek, just the way she likes.

Merudandasana – Spinal Column Pose

  1. Merudandasana – Spinal Column Pose

Lo said, “Get up.”  The boy who’s tip she was teasing, looked momentarily stunned.  A questioning look appeared in his eyes.  But, by now he should have known better than to question Lo.  He sat up.  “All the way,” said Lo.

He got up.  Lo took his place, lying flat on her back.  She spread her legs wide, lifting them in the air, and grabbing her toes with her hands.  Her pussy, drenched and glistening, clean shaven, and pink, was spread wide.

“Stand there,” she said, indicating right in front of her, between her legs.

The youth was on his knees, his cock raring to plunge into Lo’s gorgeous glazed open pussy.

“You like what you see?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you ready to cum?”

“No.”

“Good.  Fuck me, then,” she said.

He got up and into her.  Her arms and legs enveloped his body.  Her face turned toward me.  “Daddy,” she said as she received rapid thrusts from the youth.

“Yes,” I responded.

“I’m thirsty.”

I disappeared to the kitchen where I got Lo a large glass of ice water.  I returned with it.  The boy was pounding her, oblivious of my movements.  Lo reached out with her left hand and took the water from me.  Her forehead was sweating.  Her hair matted down in front.  She gulped the water as the boy continued his enthusiastic jousts at her cunt.  I could tell that by this point, she wasn’t even feeling him, she was so wet and wide.

After she returned the water to me, she pushed the boy back, interrupting his irreverent attempts to cum inside her.

“Are you about to cum now?” Lo asked as he sat on his haunches in front of her, between her legs.

“I’m close,” he said.

“Grab it,” she instructed, but not to him, to his brother.

He took his brother’s hard cock in his hand.

“Jack him off.  I want him to cum right here,” said Lo, slapping her pussy.

The two went at it, cock-in-hand, as Lo spread her lower lips with her fingers and slid a few deep inside.

“You like seeing me fuck myself?” she asked.

The boys couldn’t answer.  They were mesmerized.

“You like how much of a slut I am?  You like that I fucked you both right here in front of my man?  You like my pussy?  You like my ass?” she asked as she began fingering her special spot for them.

Suddenly, without any warning, the youth ejaculated with more force, volume, and velocity than I had ever seen.  He covered Lo from head to pussy in his cum as his brother encouraged the multiple eruptions of his quaking cock.

“That’s it,” said Lo.  “That’s it.  Cum.  Good boy.  Cum all over me.  Yeah.”

Ananda Balasana – Happy Baby Pose

  1. Ananda Balasana – Happy Baby Pose

When the brother finally completed his composition on Lo’s canvas, he smiled, obviously very pleased with himself.  Lo smiled too and she bent her knees and curled her back a bit, pulling at her toes with her hands.

“Daddy,” she said.

“Yes Lo?”

“May I have my glass dildo please?”

I opened the night table drawer and pulled out “Glindo,” her glass dildo, and handed it to her.

She inserted it slowly in her wet pussy.

“Um,” said one of the boys, “we had better get going.”

“OK,” said Lo as she masturbated.

“This was fun,” said the other boy.

Lo was moaning at this point.

The boys were putting on their soaking wet clothes.

“Just tell your mom that you washed our car,” I said.

“Right,” said one of the boys.

“Bye Lo,” said the other one.

“Bye,” said his brother.  “And thanks!”

Lo was too self-absorbed to respond.

 

“Fuck Me Like a Pornstar”

Lola and H.H.

It’s midday.  Lo’s in the bed, naked.  “Come here, Daddy, and fuck me,” she says.

I get naked and slide into her.  “You’re so wet,” I say.

“I just jilled it.”  As I’m inside her with her legs spread, she says, “You know, all the blinds are open and all the neighbors can see us.”

“Do you want me to shut them?”

“No!” she says, “I was telling you so that you’d fuck me like a pornstar.”

“You are a pornstar.  My pornstar.”

“Not just yours.”

“What did you jill it to?”

“Get behind me and I’ll tell you.”

She gets on all fours, facing the open windows, and I mount her from behind.

Lola in the Window

“That’s it,” she says.  “I jilled it to the thought of yesterday at the beach.”

“Which part?”

“Watching the girls in their thongs.”

Before she can say anymore, the image of her masturbating in the car, her legs up on the dashboard, watching two girls wearing skimpy bikinis splashing about before her as Lo intently faps flashes before my mind.  I pull out and fire a shot that lands squarely between her shoulder blades.  A few more shots follow.

Bikini Girls

“I think you just set a new world’s record – and not in a good way,” she complains over her shoulder.

“Well next time, don’t talk.”

“I hardly had time to say a sentence.  My story certainly hadn’t reached its climax before you did!”

“In my mind, it had.”

“You know the drill,” she says, expecting me to clean her up.

“I just drilled you.”

“To hell you did!”

I grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom and gently caress it over her back as she remains bent over, her tits hanging down, framed by the window. Lo says, “I expected more.  Is that the best you could do?”

“If you predecease me, I am going to see to it that those words are your epitaph.  ‘Lola Down says of life: I expected more.  And for all those who come to visit her tomb, on it will be etched: Is that the best you could do?’”

“Don’t worry, ole man, just like in sex, in life I’ll last a lot longer than you.”

“Any neighbors watching?” I ask.

“I sure hope so.”

As she says that, she sees my cock exhibit a flicker of life.

“Got any more in you?”

“Stay just like that,” I say, returning to the bathroom to put the washcloth in the sink.

I get behind her again and sit on the edge of the bed, stroking my cock to the view, thinking about the neighbors watching her in the window.  She must have read my mind because, as I was coaxing my cock into a repeat performance, she says, “I hope the neighbors are enjoying this.”

Cum-Covered

When I’m rigid enough for reentry, I resume the position.

She moans and says, “Noon is a good time for you, Daddio.”

“Yeah, the caffeine kicks in full-force right about now.”

“Well, you can kick in full-force.  Slam me.  Fuck me like a pornstar.  I’ll put on a good show.”

I give her my all and she begins calling out, right out the open window, “Fuck, fuck!  Yeah, fuck!  Fuck me.  Harder.  Fuck me.”

I can hear the women who live upstairs walking.  The hardwood floor amplifies their footsteps and they are walking right above us.  No doubt they hear the soundtrack to Lo’s porno.

I can feel her cunt-clenching convulsions beginning.  Her voice is at peak volume.  Her pussy pushes me out as she begins to squirt on the floor and her fingers grab onto the windowsill as if she were on the outside, holding on for dear life.  “FUUUUUCK!” she cries as she sprays the floor.

“Get back in me,” she instructs desperately.

I slide in.

“Fast.  Hard.  Deep.”

I do my best.

Repeat.  I’m squeezed out, she squirts.

I sit on the bed and watch.

Desperate for her third (Lo loves to cum in threes), she lowers her dripping slip-n-slid down on my shaft.

Now she is in control of the penetration as she lifts and drops at her own pace and to her own desired depth.  Quickly she goes from slow and gentle glides to rapid, repetitive sloppy slams like a pile driver dropping at 150 beats per minute until she hits just the right spot and the dam doors burst.

Pleased with winning the Triple Crown, she falls on the bed next to me, panting.

“I tried to stay in you,” I say, apologetically, “but I’m no match for your Kegel muscles.”

“You’d have to knot me to stay in me,” she says matter-of-factly.

I’m exhausted from the workout, but Lo says I have to get up and grab a mop to clean the floor while she changes the sheets.

“Can’t we just nap and clean up later?”

“No!  I can’t sleep on soppy sheets.”

“You’re so sensitive.  You’re like ‘The Princess and the Pee!’”

Medicinal Masturbation

“Are you going to sleep, Daddio?” she asked, rubbing my flaccid member under the sheets.

“Guurerumph,” I inarticulately mumble.

“But what about me?”

“Sleep.”

She continued gently stroking my rod up and down with just her fingertips, ever-so-lightly.  I could feel my cock growing.  Her curious fingers moved lower, tickling my testicles.

“You’re so big.  So full.  Are you sure you want to sleep?”

No response.

After dallying on my scrotum for a while, she explored further down below, gently circling and prodding.

“Oh come on Daddy, I’m feeling randy!  What do I have to say?  What do I have to do?” she whined.

“Fine,” I said, groggy.  “Roll over and spread your legs.”

“But I’m on my period.  It’s heavy.  It will make a mess.”

“Grrrrrrr,” I grumbled.  “Now you’ve got me hard.”

“I didn’t do that.”

“You certainly had a hand in it.”

“Jack it for me.”

“Lo, I’m too tired to jack it.”

“I like seeing you jack it.”

“You like seeing anyone jack it, or jill it, or whatever it.”

“True, but I’m tired of being a boner donor and of just seeing cumtributes.  I want the full 4-D experience.”

“Four dicks?”

She laughed, “No, silly.  Though that would be nice.  Three dimensional, plus the added fourth dimension of the smell, taste, and feel of cum on me when you’re done.”

“Is that what they mean by 4-D?”

“That’s what I mean by it.”

By this point I was up and awake.

“Do you want me, Daddy?” she asked, despite having just told me I can’t have her.

“No,” I said out of frustration.

“Your Truth Stick says otherwise.”

“You can’t handle the truth,” I said.

“The truth is hard.”

“The truth is hard to swallow.”

She leaned over and looked up at me as her mouth descended on my ‘Truth Stick.’

“Fine,” I said.  “I’ll jack it.”

“You will?!”

“But only if you let me use Stoya.”

Now it was her turn to grumble.

“Why can’t you just jack it with your right hand like a real man?”

“Because I am a real man with real calluses on my hands.  Stoya feels better. . . and she makes you jealous.”

“Fine, I’ll take whatever I can get.  My fucking cramps are killing me.  You get Stoya all lubed up and I’ll be right back.”

She went into the bathroom and grabbed a heating compress.  She put it just above her Delta of Venus.

“OK, I’m ready to watch you now,” she said, her legs spread and her little tampon string dangling from between her pussy lips.

I stood over her, looking at her pussy, fucking Stoya’s.

Strings Attached

“That’s it, Daddio,” she said, encouraging me, her red tongue gliding over her white teeth.  She reached over the side of the bed and pulled out her glass dildo, ‘Glindo,’ as we call it, and her Hitachi Magic Wand.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Medicinal masturbation.  It will make me feel better.”

She applied the Hitachi to her clit as she inserted the dildo up, next to her tampon.

“Keep going,” she insisted.

Her various objects of sexual self-pleasure were blocking my view.  In order to enhance my excitement, she said, “You know what Kaylee told me the other day?”

I kept thrusting into Stoya, but I was listening.

“She said, ‘This guy I hooked up with told me that sometimes when he fucks girls, he pictures other girls in his mind.  But, when he is fucking me, he just pictures me.’  And you know what I told her?”

She didn’t really expect me to answer.

“I told her that when guys fuck other girls, they picture me.  In fact, they look at my naked photos to get hard for their wives and girlfriends.”

“What did she say to that?” I asked her.

“She called me a dirty slut.”

“Really?”

“She said I’m an attention whore and a nympho.”

“She knows you well.”

She dropped the Hitachi by her side.  “Fuck me, Daddy,” she said.

“What?”

“Fuck me.”

“You just told me not to because you’re on your period.”

“Shut up and get in me!”

I wasn’t in a position to argue with her.  I slid out of Stoya and into Lola, accompanied by her tampon and the dildo.

“Do you like to share me?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like it if there were two other cocks in me, instead of just this tampon and dildo?”

“Yes,” was all I could say.

“Me too,” she said and I could feel her begin to convulse under me.

It was so snug, yet so wet.  I was crushed, but I enjoyed the feeling of finally filling her up.

She could sense my body tensing in anticipation of cumming.  “Cum in me, Daddy,” she said.  “Fill me more.  Cum deep in me.  I’m your whore.”

I fulfilled her wish and then slid out.  I was still cumming.  She dropped her dildo and sat up and sucked everything she could out of me.  When she had extracted every last drop, she licked her lips and said, “You know what Joseph Campbell says?”

“That’s an odd thing to ask at this moment.  But I’ll bite.  What does Joseph Campbell say?”

“The demon you swallow gives you its power.”

“Do you feel powerful?”

“MmmmHmmmm,” she hummed.

She got up out of the bed and headed to the bathroom.

“Where are you going”

“I have to take out the fucking tampon you lodged in my throat!”

When she returned, I asked, “Did you get it?”

“Yes,” she said, “but I just remembered.”

“What’s that?”

“I have my OBGYN appointment first thing tomorrow morning.”

I pulled the covers over me and was quietly drifting off to sleep.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“You know what Benjamin Franklin says?”

“I’ll bite.  What does Benjamin Franklin say?”

“Early to bed, early to rise.”

“Well you better rise in the morning,” she said squeezing my cock with her hand, “cause I’m going to want more of this then.  It’s the only thing that relieves my cramps.”

“Don’t worry, the doctor will be in tomorrow.”

Substitutes

The plans for Robert’s engagement had to be postponed due to COVID-19.  Linda, his intended betrothed, was in Italy.  He was here in America.  His planned flight during spring break to visit her was cancelled.  Without Linda and without Lo, who was with me during quarantine in Florida, he regressed to his former self – that is, suffering from erectile dysfunction.

When Lo and I finally returned home from our temporary pandemic paradise, he was very eager to see her.  They had made a date.  Lo explained that there was no worry about social distancing with Robert because he hadn’t seen anyone or been with anybody since our departure back in February.  In addition, he was already prone to hypochondria and health anxiety, so he had taken every conceivable precaution to avoid contact with anyone.  He was a real Howard Hughes, only without the money, fame, and grandiosity.  The only exception he made to his rule was seeing Lo.  Madness drives us all.

Naughty School Girl

Lo was getting ready for her date with Robert.  She got out of the shower and was drying her hair.  I let out a cat whistle.  “Don’t get any funny ideas,” she says, “I’m already late.”

“I don’t have any funny ideas.”

“Good.”

“I have sexy ideas.”

“Most of your sexy ideas are pretty funny.”

“Like what?”

“Like your Stoya Fleshlight.  Why would you fuck her when you could fuck me?”

“Because you won’t fuck me.”

“When won’t I fuck you?”

“Like. . . now.”

“I have a date.”

“Well then,” I said, pulling out the Fleshlight, “so do I.”

“The hell you do!”she shrieked, grabbing the Fleshlight out of my hands.

“You’ll fuck me before him?” I asked, incredulously.

“I told you, I’m already late.”

“He’s waited this long, another hour won’t kill him.”

“An hour?!  How do you figure that you’ll need an hour to fuck me?”

“I was thinking two minutes to fuck you, but fifty-eight minutes for you to get dressed and do your makeup.”

“Funny.  You just. . .”

In the middle of her sentence, her phone rang.  It was Robert.  She answered it in her sweet, seductive, slutty voice.  “Hi Robert.”

There was some back-and-forth.  After hanging up, she said, “He’s coming over here.”

“What?  Why?”

“Apparently he couldn’t wait any longer.  He’s already in the car on his way.”

“Then we can do it!”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re the one who gets the sloppy seconds, not him.  And I also like to keep you in suspense.”

“Then give me back Stoya,” I said, reaching for the Fleshlight.

“I bet you’d like her, wouldn’t you?” she asked, as she put the cylinder between her legs, bent over, and made it appear that she had two pussies.

“That is inviting.”

“I told you, no funny ideas,” she said, attempting to walk around like that.

“You’re the comedian of this outfit,” I said.  She put the Stoya Fleshlight on the nightstand and began blow drying her hair, applying her makeup, and getting dressed.  She put on a special outfit just for Robert: naughty schoolgirl.

The bell rang and, as in the old days, I politely let Robert in with a collegial hello.  There was no need to point him in the direction of the bedroom.  He knew his way like a dog remembering where he buried his bone.  He hadn’t seen me in four months and yet blew right past me.  No formalities.  Not even the pretense of interest.  He was just interested in the sweet release induced by Lo spreading her knees.

I sat, frustrated, in the living room.  But before too long, I got a text from Lo summoning me.

I entered the bedroom and found the two of them in the sack.

“Daddio, Robert and I had a little idea,” she said, using a tone to match her outfit.

“What’s that?”

“Well, he’s having a little trouble.  It’s been a while since the equipment was last greaced and, well, we thought that a little role-reversal might help him to get it back up and in working order.”

“What sort of role-reversal?”  I was both curious and confused.

“Instead of Robert fucking me and you watching, Robert will watch as you fuck me.  How’s that sound?”

Lola Greeting Card

I was already hard.  I didn’t have to answer, I just removed my pants, unbuttoned my shirt, and lifted the short skirt Lo was wearing.  I got behind her and mounted her.  She was standing on the side of the bed and Robert was lying down in the bed, silently observing every expression of her face as I penetrated her from behind.

She gently stroked and tickled his testicles and she could see him getting aroused.

“You like that?” she asked.  “You like seeing your little slut getting fucked?  You like to see my ass get pounded?”

He was getting harder.

Lo called over her shoulder to me, “Fuck me like you mean it!”

I increased the tempo and force of my thrusts.

“You like seeing him slam me repeatedly like a screen door in a hurricane?”

I have to admit, I laughed at that simile.  But Robert was soberly serious.

Lo began to suck on his tumescent cock.

“Daddy,” said Lo over her shoulder again.

“What?” I asked, keeping up my aerobic gyrations.

“Can Robert use your Fleshlight?”

“What?!  No,” I said.

“You won’t share your Fleshlight with him, but you’ll share my pussy?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Fine,” she said, perturbed and lunging forward so I fell out of her slick clit.

She climbed up on the bed and slid down on Robert’s erect phallus.  “You can use Stoya while he gets the real thing!”

I went over to the nightstand and grabbed the instrument of self-pleasure, lubed her up, and slid her over my rod as I watched Lo exaggerate her enjoyment, specifically in order to piss me off, though it had quite the opposite effect.

Seeing that her affectations were not causing jealousy, she said to Robert, “Do you want my ass?”

“Yes,” he managed to mumble through his excited breathing.

She lifted up, grabbed her ass cheeks with both hands, spread them as far as they would go, and slid down slowly, gingerly on his lance.  Up-and-down she carefully bobbed, taking him a little deeper with each foray.  Soon enough she was down to the hilt of his cock.  She was making comments about how big it felt and how hard he was.  Her right hand moved to her clit and was rubbing it rapidly.

“Does it feel good?” she asked Robert.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’re so tight,” he said.

“Tighter than my pussy?”

“Much.”

“Why else?”

“Your pussy was so wet.  I didn’t even need lube.”

“I never need lube,” she said.  “Why else do you like it?”

“You’re such a dirty girl.”

“Go on.”

“Such a dirty slut.  A cum whore.  A fuck-toy.”

Lo’s love language is jealousy.  It turns her on to make me jealous.  And, conversely, her own jealousy (of other women or even of Stoya) makes her even more sexually aggressive, like she has something to prove.

“Do you think Linda would do this? – let you have her ass?”

Robert was reaching up to grab Lo’s breasts and cup them with his hands.

“Do you think Linda would let you cum in her ass?  Would she finger herself while you fucked her ass like I’m doing now?”

Indeed, Lo’s four fingers were curled and snug up inside her.

Robert pulled on her nipples.

“Smack my tits!” commanded Lo.  “Yes, pull them, smack them.”

I saw her head tilt back and I knew what would be coming next.

A powerful stream of amrita sprayed from her onto Robert as if putting out a fire burning on his chest as she screamed “FUCK!”

Simultaneously he came in her ass and I in Stoya, each of us grunting our own mantras to the goddess.

Lo quickly jumped off his throbbing hard meat and took it deep in her mouth as she looked up at him.  “Would your pure little bride Linda do this?” she asked as she licked him clean.  “Even if she fucks you, you’re still going to want your dirty little Lo to use and abuse,” she reminded him.

She cupped his balls and fondled them, changing her tone from dominatrix to endearing concubine, she asked, “Feel better?”

“Yes, yes,” was all he could emote.  She grabbed a towel from the side of the bed and wiped down the ejaculate from his chest, proud of her accomplishment.

After he was gone, she turned to me, her mood abruptly changing, and said, “You’re more jealous of Stoya than you are of me.”

“You’re right,” I said, surprised by my irrational preference, “I wouldn’t share my Fleshlight, but I would share my Lola.”

“Phhht,” she said, dismissively, “I take more pleasure in being shared anyhow.”

Full Up

Opening Up

Lo, falling out of her blue dress

 

 

 

 

[This story was just published in the August issue of Ethical Non-Monogamy ‘ENM’ Magazine, p. 34. Enjoy!]

Slowly our world was opening.  Like a tightly bound spring bud on the perennial, gradually, with the days growing longer and the temperatures climbing, the petals begin to unfurl, letting in water and air, letting out color and aromatic fragrance, similarly, with each passing day, more people were walking on the streets, more shops invited in limited customers, more restaurants set up tables outside.  The patrons cautiously caroused and conversed in the allure of springtime sunshine that thawed the COVID chill of winter.

“Daddy,” said Lo that afternoon as she called me from home to my office where I was working, alone.

I knew from her tone, she wanted something.

“Yes?”

“Daddy, it’s Friday.”

“I am aware.”

“And it’s beautiful outside.”

“I can see,” I said, gazing out my office window onto the usually bustling, now sleepy street below.

“We haven’t had a date in forever.”

I wanted to remind Lo that, in the time of COVID-19, Friday evening is no different from Monday or Wednesday or any other day.  But I refrained and listened.

“Can we go out?” she asked.

“For a walk?”

“No, I mean like out out.”

“To a restaurant?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“Lo, you know that you’ll only have a panic attack tonight if we do that.”

“I want to get dressed up, put on makeup, wear some fucking heels, and go out!”

She protested to me with the pent-up anger she had for the pandemic.

“Dressed up?  Out?  Where?”

“Anywhere!  I haven’t worn anything but yoga pants for three months!”

“Spandex is your best color.”

“How can you possibly love me looking like this?”

“What?  I love you in yoga pants.  I love you out of yoga pants.  I love getting you out of yoga pants.  Then I love getting in you.  But I digress.  Where were we?”

Lo getting out of her yoga pants

“You’re taking me out tonight and we’re going to go to a restaurant to eat and pretend like none of this is happening!”

“If that’s what you want.  You know I can’t deny you.”

“Good!  I’ll pick you up in a half hour.”

A half hour later I got a phone call from Lo.  “Daddy, I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”

“You said a half hour a half hour ago.”

“Yeah, well, I forgot how to do this.”

“How to do what?”

“Put on makeup.  I’m a mess.  I have to start over.”

About an hour later I got a text from Lo, “I’m out front.”

I packed up my stuff and walked out onto the street.  I saw Lo parked in front of my building, the windows down, looking toward the sidewalk, but not looking at me.  She wore her tight blue dress.  She had intense red lip gloss on and her hair was done like I hadn’t seen in three months or more.

I hopped in the car.  “Hello.”

She was running her tongue over her lips.

“I see you’re eager for our date,” I said.

“Sit back,” she said, hardly acknowledging my presence.

I saw her looking through the plate glass window of the store to my right.

“I have an admirer.”

In the window was a young salesclerk.  If I had to guess, I’d say he was about twenty-two.  He was gazing right past me into Lo’s seductive eyes.

“It’s been a while,” I said to Lo.  “Enjoying the attention?”

Lo didn’t answer.  She was basking in the youth’s admiration of her beauty.

“I see that COVID hasn’t killed your vanity.”

“Vanity?” Lo asked, starting the car, “If you were about two minutes later, I would have had an orgasm right here.”

“Well don’t let me stop you.”

She pulled away from the curb, blowing a kiss to her handsome stranger who was reverse window shopping Lo’s goods.

“OK Love, where to?” I asked.

“Somewhere with outside seating.”

“That’s all that’s open right now.”

“And good food.”

“Of course.  And expensive.”

“Why must it be expensive?”

“Because you judge a restaurant by how much weight my wallet loses.”

“You’re not wrong.  And it also has to be pretty.”

“Guaranteed you’ll improve the atmosphere.”

I was glad she was driving.  It’s difficult enough to find a dining establishment in this town that meets with Lo’s mood during normal times.  I did not want to be the one responsible for pleasing her palate during COVID.

We zig-zagged through our city as she made suggestions and I looked them up to see if there was a chance that we’d get a table.

“Can’t you hurry, the sun will set soon!”

“Lo, this plan suffers from one fatal error.”

“What’s that?”

“It wasn’t planned!”

Exhausted, frustrated, and hungry, we abandoned dining out in favor of picking up two to-go meals, a bottle of champagne, plastic utensils and eating on a park bench overlooking the skyline of our city as the hues of dusk drenched us in an orange glow.

“See, this isn’t so bad, is it?” I said.

No response.

“It’s intimate and romantic.”

“I want fancy, elegant, and full of possibilities.”

“Lo, we’re just not at that stage yet.  I don’t even think the governor has ‘erotic dining’ on the list of phased reopening.”

“Well he should!”

We drove home and she sulked in the passenger seat.

“What will cheer you up?” I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders.

“There has to be something to get you out of these doldrums.”

She looked off into the distance and then back at me.  She clearly was forming a thought.  She reached over and ran her hands through my hair.

“What?” I asked, nervous.

“I’ve got an idea.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I said.

“When we get home, let me cut your hair.”

“What?”

“You need a haircut and you’re not ready to go to the barber.”

“Will it make you happy?”

“Very.  I’ve always thought I could do it better.”

“You think that about everything.”

“Well, it’s true about most things.”

We got home and she said, “Get naked.”

“I thought you were giving me a haircut.”

“I am.  Get naked.”

“I don’t get naked for my barber.”

“You’re going to get naked for me.”

I stripped out of my clothes and sat on the chair she set up in the bathroom.  She pulled out the electric trimmer and some scissors, hair clips and my comb.

“Lo,” I said furtively, “you know that professional hairdressers spend one year only cutting the hair on manikins.”

“I watched a YouTube video.  I’m good.”

“Oh, I see.  Those hairstylists are wasting their tuition dollars.”

“Don’t you worry, I know what I’m doing.”

She got out of her blue dress and was wearing just her thong and a tank top revealing a lot of side-boob.

“Ok, I’m feeling better about this already.”

“I see,” she said, admiring my erection.  “Does that happen to you at the barber?”

“My barber is named Luige, what do you think?”

“Good.”

She began with the back, running the trimmer up my scalp.  Then the sides.

“You know, it’s my hair, not mowing lawn, right?”
“I told you, I watched a video.”

Then she came around the front and was looking at my head like a work of art, checking the symmetry.  She got out the scissors, leaned in, combed my hair up, and began snipping, placing her breasts in my face.  I pulled her shirt up to let her nipples dance before my admiring eyes.  I leaned forward and took one in my mouth.

“Hey!  You know I’m cutting your hair here?”

“Sorry, I got carried away.”

“Leave my tits alone until I’m done.”

“Can you cut my hair like this?” I asked, pulling the sides of her shirt into the cleavage of her breasts, revealing her tits.

“Do you promise just to look and not touch?”

“Yes, yes I do.”

“Fine.  Now stay still.”

“It’s like a dream come true,” I said.

“You’ve always wanted Luige to wear his t-shirt like this?”

Lo, A Little Side-Boob

“No!  Never mind.”

She continued cutting away and then trimmed up my beard and finally said, “Voilà!”

I stood up and looked in the mirror.  It didn’t look half bad.

I hopped in the shower to get all the clippings off of me and, within moments, she slipped in next to me.

“Luige never did this either,” I said.

“I should hope not.”

When all the hair had washed from our bodies, she got down on her knees and, looking up at me, said, “Did you like how I cut your hair, Daddy?”

“Yes,” I said.

“What would you think if I opened up a shop and cut everyone’s hair like that?”

“In your panties and a tank top?  Or giving everyone the same hair style as you gave me?”

She laughed.  “So you admit, I’ve got style?”

“The finest style, class, tits, and ass.  In fact, that could be the motto of your salon.”

She opened up her mouth and put out her tongue a little.  “Don’t I get a tip, Daddy?”

I rested the tip of my cock in her mouth.  She took the whole rod.

“Greedy, aren’t you?”

“It’s today’s special: a haircut and a happy ending.”

Lo takes the tip

Stress Relief

It was Thursday night.  I walked in on Lo taking a shower.  “Why is there a wineglass in here?” I asked.

“Because I thought I’d have a sensual, romantic evening.”

“Only you would make a sensual, romantic date with yourself in the shower.”

“Hardly.  But, if you must know, I had originally planned on a bath, surrounded by candles.”

“And?”

“I wanted to cut to the chase.”

I looked in at her and saw that she had the hand-held shower head between her legs.

“Only you could cheat yourself out of a romantic date in order to get lucky – with yourself!”

After her climax, she got out of the shower and as she was drying off, she said, “I’m trying to cultivate pleasurable habits.”

I snickered.

“What?”

“Pleasurable habits are your forte.  I don’t think you need to ‘cultivate’ them.”

“No, no.  Not those sorts of pleasurable habits.  Normally it would be things like getting coffee at a café, strolling through a museum.  Doing yoga.  But during these pandemic times we’re in, I need to discover and foster different pleasurable habits.  What are your pleasurable habits?”

“You.”

“Damn straight.”

“Glad we’re agreed on that because I was afraid you were going to tell me to work out or eat better, or, God forbid, cut out beer!”

“Speaking of that. . .”

“Oh no!”

“No, no, no, silly.  I was just going to say that since I can’t go to the gym, I am going to have to find a way to do workouts at home.”

Lola Today

She put on her workout shorts and sports bra and told me to get out of the bedroom because she was going to do some exercises.  I left and about five minutes later I heard her grunting and breathing heavily.

The next day Lola went into the bedroom to do her exercises again.  When she came out she told me about a workout video that got her hot – about burning your buns off.

On the third day, Lola went into the bedroom to do her exercises and I heard her grunting and breathing heavily.  I was curious.  I went to check on her.  I cracked the bedroom door and found her masturbating on the bed to the sexy woman in the exercise video.

“Is this how you work out?!” I said, walking in on her and interrupting the strenuous physical discipline.

“I told you, I am cultivating pleasurable habits.  If my exercise turns into a digitally manipulated cardio session, that counts as a pleasurable habit.”

The next day during her exercise time I caught her in the bedroom pounding her pussy with her glass dildo instead of doing pushups.

“I felt like I needed to work out, but needed to work it out first!  I had a really hard day.”

“Oh, is this your homeopathic remedy?”

“Why do you ridicule me?  I don’t poke fun at you when your idea of exercise is typing fifty-words-per-minute.”

“I’m not poking fun at you.  I’m in awe of your capacity for poking your yum-yum.”

“Good grief!  Could you leave me to my own devices and take your puns into the other room?”

The following night she began masturbating during a movie we were watching.

“Lo, what are you doing?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like your finger-fucking your pussy while we’re trying to watch a movie.”

“Keen observation.”

“But why can’t we just watch the movie?  Before too long, you’ll make yourself cum and then you’ll want to fuck me and we’ll never get through the movie.”

“We’re watching Brad Pitt take off his shirt.  Everyone masturbates to that!”

“You’re extrapolating.”

“What?”

“Because you do it, you’re extrapolating from yourself to everyone.”

“And everyone extrapolates.”

“Now you’re confusing extrapolate with masturbate.  Everyone masturbates, but not during every movie.”

“Extrapolate, masturbate, fornicate, what’s the difference?  Can you please press PLAY so I can get on with this?  You interrupted my rhythm.”

“You’re just going to exacerbate the problem by persisting in it.”

“Exactly.”

As I sat watching the scene unfold, I can’t deny that it got me hard.  Lo noticed and said, “If we go to bed, will you stay up?”

“What about the movie?”
“You’ll fall asleep during it anyway.  Let’s get into the bedroom where you can get into me.”

I agreed and got up.  She remained on the couch.

“Aren’t you coming?” I asked.

“I hope to be soon.  Brush your teeth, get in bed and I’ll be right there.  I’m just going to finish this up,” she said as if she were in the middle of making a spreadsheet for a work project.

In bed, I fell asleep waiting for her.  She must have entered without my noticing, pulled out her Hitachi and, after cumming once, she put it on my back and jolted me awake.  “I was just using the defibrillator to bring you back to consciousness,” she said wickedly.

After I awoke, she sucked me off, climbed on top of me, and began riding my erect cock.  It is well trained to react to her while the rest of me sleeps.  “Fucking you is like fucking a geriatrics patient.”

“You say the most romantic things.”

“I need dick.  Give it to me.”

I was almost asleep again as she bounced up and down.

“This is like fucking a cock on a corpse after rigor mortis has set in.”

“You sure know how to turn a guy on.”

“I want your cum, Daddy.  Give it to me.  Fill me.”

Relieved to hear her request since it meant the culmination of my satisfaction and the fulfillment of her nocturnal necromancy, I released my draught of desire deep inside her to her delight.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said, falling into my arms.

“So, am I on your list of pleasurable habits to cultivate?”

“Of course you are, silly!  Number one on the list is ‘Jill it. Drill it. Fill it.’”

“What’s number two?”

“Actually, it’s the only thing on my list so far.”

Stress Relief Tools

Pictures of Lily

[Dear readers, here is the story that was just published in the July issue of Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine (ENM, p. 38).  We hope you enjoy it!]

We finally returned home after months in exile paradise during COVID-19 lockdown.  We returned to a dusty house, cars covered in pollen as if after a light snow, and springtime blossoms.  With nowhere to go since work-from-home orders were still in place, we Lo set herself to doing the spring cleaning in between Zoom meetings.

I, being an entrepreneur, resumed going to my office, though it was empty of Ms. Gale and my other employees.

One day, not long after our homecoming, after work I was greeted by Lo at the door.  “What are you going to do with these?” Lo asked as I approached the threshold, holding four eight porno mags in her right hand.

My Sex Life Before Lola

“I was thinking about lining my coffin with them for the afterlife.”

“You can’t even get it up now – you think that you will be able to in death?”

“Haven’t you ever heard of rigor mortis?”

She let me inside to explain.  She placed the porno mags on the dining room table, displayed prominently as ‘Exhibit A’ in the case against H.H.

“Lola, where did you find those?”

Gili Sky in a very Lola pose

“The top shelf of our closet, buried under a pair of old shoes in an old, raggedy box.”

“That’s where you started your spring cleaning?”

“I’ll be asking the questions here.”

“I’m sorry Madam Prosecutor.  What was it you wanted to know?”

“Why did I find porno mags in our closet?”

“Because that’s where I put them?” I asked more than answered.

Gili Sky, precursor to Lo

“Begging the question!”

“OK, ok,” I said, raising my hands as if under arrest.  “Lola, look at the dates on those.”

“I don’t have to.”

“I know, because they’re so freakin’ old.  I’m sorry.   I guess I’m just sentimental.”

“Sentimental?!  What does that mean?  Are each of those porn stars an ex-girlfriend?”

“No no no.  I bought those when I was in my teens or twenties.  I haven’t let go of them.”

“Because you’re a hoarder.”

“I am not a hoarder!”

“You have alumni magazines from fifteen years ago, newspaper clippings from twenty years ago.  You even have a copy of the Sunday coupons from five years ago!”

“I’ve been meaning to redeem those.”

“Yeah, that’s my point!  They don’t even sell those products anymore.”

“Maybe I have a slight problem.  You’re right.  But, if you’re going to clean, start with the coupons, leave the porn.”

“Why?  You have all the porn you need right here,” she said, pushing her tits up, emphasizing her cleavage in the cutoff t-shirt she was wearing.

“Because?”

“Because why?”

“Just because.”

“When’s the last time you looked at those?”

“I don’t even know.  Let me see.  I need to refresh my memory here.”  I began to flip through some of the magazines.  “Oh yeah, Gili Sky.  Wanda Curtis, and Gina Wild!”

Gina Wild looking for her keys

She pulled the magazines out of my hands.  “That’s enough of that.  They’re going in the trash.”

“But Darling!”

“What?”

“Those aren’t just any porno mags.  They’re European.  I got them when I was in Germany for grad school.  They cost a fortune!”

“Trash!”

“They’re collectables.”

“You have to learn to let go.  What sort of Buddhist are you?”

“A bad Buddhist.  A very very bad Buddhist.”

“You got that right.”

“But, Buddhism is beyond duality.”

“So?”

“Good/bad, right/wrong.  All that is in the realm of Samsara.”

“Samsara eh?  Is she another porn star?”

“The best!”

“Good grief!”

“Those magazines are keepsakes.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well. . .” I didn’t know how to explain.  “You’re too young to understand.”

“Try me.”

“Back when I was growing up, we didn’t have the internet.  I wasn’t exposed to all the adult content you had at your fingertips.  In America we had Playboy and Hustler.  If you wanted some really raunchy stuff there were cheap, rather disgusting knock-off magazines.  But in Europe, well, this was great stuff and. . .”

“And what?”

“The first time I ever even heard of anal sex and so much more that really expanded my horizons.  They were truly beyond anything we had in America.”

“So, you can have all that now, in the flesh, with me!”

“Actually, it’s not the porn, so much as it is the medium.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I mean, in today’s world of internet porn, it’s all pixels and binary code.  There are no more material products that you can hold in your hand, touch, feel, see the glossy pages, and put on a shelf to age like a fine wine.  It’s all instant gratification and disposable consumption.”

“You can hold me in your hand, touch me, feel me, see me.  I’m a very material girl.”

“You’re like a mashup.”

“What?!”

“A mashup between The Who’s See Me, Feel Me and Madonna’s Material Girl.”

“Oh,” she said.

“And these, these are my ‘Pictures of Lily,’” I said, picking up one of the magazines.

“Lilly?”

“No, not our friend Lilly.  The Who’s Pictures of Lily.”

The “Pictures of Lily” drum set of Keith Moon

“What’s that?”

“A song about a boy who can’t sleep at night because he’s hard-up so his dad gives him some nudie photos to jack it to, but the boy falls in love with the woman.  Unfortunately, she’s been dead since 1929.  The boy is heartbroken.”

“So you jack it to these photos?”

“No no no!  I’m just saying, all these women, they’re twenty-five years older now.”

“So, when I grow old, you won’t love me anymore?  Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, Darling!  You’ll never grow old.  You’re forever young – er younger than I am, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, maybe you should plan on lining that coffin with these, since you’re practically one foot in the grave already.”

She hates it when I point out our age difference.

Just then there was a noise at the front door.

Lo checked it out and then walked back to the scene of our skirmish.  She held the mail in her hand.

“Look what just arrived,” she said, holding a package.  She opened it.  It was the June issue of Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine.  She gave it to me to peruse.

“I like it.  Glossy.  Centerfold.  Lola.”

“I sometimes get the feeling you like me better in print than in real life,” she said as I read over our column.

“That’s not it at all, Darling.  I like that I get to share you with so many people all at once.”

“It’s the most ‘non-monogamous’ I’ve been since this pandemic began!” she complained.

“Yes, the most ethical too.”

“Look, we’ll make a deal.  You get to keep the magazines that I’m in.  The others go in the trash.”

“At least put them in the recycling.  We don’t want to be irresponsible.”

Lo as Playboy Covergirl