Smalltown Strumpet Part II – The Doctor Will See You Now

Smalltown Strumpet

Continued from: A Room with a View

Outdoor Strip Club

 

NO MASTURBATING

The sign was clear, yet ambiguous.  Hung up in a strip joint, did it apply to the relatively rare female patron of the arts?

Lola was keen on testing the bounds of linguistic imprecision.

She unbuttoned her tight short-shorts and slid her hand down for a publicly displayed diddle.

No sooner had she done so than a bouncer came up to our table and said, “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to stop that.  All patrons need to keep their clothes on.”

“My clothes are on,” she protested, batting her eyelashes at him, continuing to caress her cunt.

Lola’s short shorts before

“You know what I mean,” he said, unmoved by her flirtations.

She removed her hand from between her legs, licked her fingers and buttoned up.

“The nerve,” she said to me once he left.

She got up and began walking away.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I’ll be back.  Keep it in your pants until then, ok?”

About five minutes later she returned.  She sat down next to me where she was, but this time she turned the little chair around and sat on it backwards, spreading her legs to make room for the back rest.

“What’s up?” I asked, confused.

“Well, your cock would be if you could see me from the front,” she replied.

I was curious.  I got up and, carrying a single in my hand, walked to the stage, gently tucked it in the dancer’s thong, turned around, and looked at my love sitting with her legs spread on the backward chair.

Ahhhaaa!  I see now.  When she went to the restroom, she apparently took with her some knife or something and cut her short-shorts through the crotch revealing her lack of panties.  (Or did she take off her panties in the bathroom?)

She was proudly displaying her very widely spread pussy lips covertly through the split seam of her short-shorts.  The only ones who could see were the strippers on the stage.

Smart.  Smart and sexy.  My woman has a head for hedonistic hijinks.

She had to refrain from stroking herself lest she alert the bouncer to her little pussy ploy.

The dancers all danced for her, as if greatly amused by the novelty of an amateur exhibitionist putting on a show for them.

I, for my part, was rather nervous about the whole scenario.  It seemed to be inviting trouble.

The dancer’s name wasn’t Trouble, but she accepted the invite.  She walked off the makeshift stage, strutted up to Lo’s spread legs, got on her knees and pantomimed cunnilingus.  The other men in the audience wanted to get a better view.  They sauntered around to look between Lo’s legs and well, soon Mr. Bouncer was back.

Lo closed her legs (a rare act for her) as he gestured that we were to leave.

Lo didn’t make a scene (also rare), but gathered up her dignity (what little was left) and strutted out to the cat-calls and whistles of her supporters.

“Another fine mess you’ve gotten us into!” I said as we left, quoting from Laurel and Hardy – a film reference from before Lo’s time.

“What?  Me?!!!” she said with anger.

“I’m just kidding.  But you sure do know how to get ejected quick.”

“Meh,” she said, “I’ve been thrown out of better strip clubs than this.”

“That you have.”

“What now, Daddio?” she asked, grabbing my arm as we walked down the street.

“Now we hope we don’t get arrested.”

“I have a better idea,” she said, pulling me down a dirt road that intersected with street where we were walking.

“Lo,” I said, “I have a feeling your idea is not better.”

She ignored me and pulled me further, before bending over to expose the wide gap in her shorts that revealed the wide gap that is her pussy.

“What good are these shorts if we’re not going to use them for a quick doggin’ session?” she asked over her shoulder.  “Bang me!”

Lola’s short shorts after

I looked left and right and saw no one.  I will admit, I was feeling pent up power needing penetration after the show at the strip club.  I hastily pulled out my cock and entered Lo from behind.  She let out a long, loud moan.

“Lo, if you want me to keep this going then you need to put on your silencer.”

I rapidly ransacked her raw desire as she gushed girly juice all over my rod.  She was overflowing, soaking what little remained of the crotch of her pants.

Lo knows when I’m about to blow and, anticipating my climax, she lunged forward and spun around, landing on her knees, taking my cock in her mouth to catch every precious drop of fluid.

Swallowing her fill, she dabbed the edges of her mouth where a bit had dripped and she sat on the ground to stroke herself silly as I watched and put away my spent serpent.

Finger-fucking herself, she eventually squirted, sprinkling the earth with her holy water.

Mission completed, she got up, dusted herself off, and we continued on our way back to the street and then the center of town.

At one point she walked in front of me and, over her shoulder asked, “Can you see the hole in my shorts, Daddio?”

“Nope, not at all,” I said.

“Too bad.”

We got back to the car and, as I was driving us home, she spread her legs and was touching herself.

“Lo, come on.  Didn’t you have enough?”

“It itches, Daddy.”

“Well, wait until we get home.  We’ve had one-too-many close calls today.”

“No, I mean it really itches.”

She wasn’t stroking, she was scratching.

She spread her legs wider and looked between them.  “It’s irritated.”

I drove faster.  “I’ll get you home and you can take a shower.  Maybe that will help.”

In my haste to get her home, I got pulled over by a cop.  Out here the cops just lie in wait for out-of-state license plates and pluck them off like fish in a barrel.

“What the fuck?” said Lo as I slowed down, edging to the side of the road.

“Cop,” I said, furious that I was going to get a speeding ticket.

“I’m really in some serious discomfort here,” said Lo.

“What do you want me to do, have a high-speed chase through the dirt road Dukes of Hazzard style?”

Cops know that if you’re speeding, you’re in a rush and so they purposely take their time getting out of the car, walking up to the driver’s side window, and talking.  This guy was no different.  All the while Lo was clamping her thighs together, trying to itch herself surreptitiously.

“Hello officer,” I said when he finally greeted me.

“License and registration,” was all he said as he looked us over, apparently liking what he saw in the passenger seat.

I reached in front of Lo to the glove compartment to grab the papers.

“Hi officer,” said Lo, flirtatiously, but clearly agitated.

“Ma’am,” was all he said.

He took the papers and just as slowly as he had walked to the car, he walked back to his cruiser.

Lo spread her legs and began rubbing, slapping, and smacking her pussy to make the itching go away.  She was getting distressed rapidly.

“I can’t take this!  I don’t know what’s happening!  Look!” she said, swiveling in her seat toward me and spreading her legs.  Her entire pussy was swollen with red irritation.  So were her knees.  “I must have sat in poison ivy!!!”

I was very concerned.  Where was that cop?

“We have to go to the hospital, not home,” said Lo, pleading and commanding simultaneously.

Finally the cop came back and gave me a $75.00 ticket.

I took it from him and asked, “Can you tell me the fastest way to get to a hospital?”

“What?”

“We need to go to the hospital right away.”

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“Lo,” I said, “Do you want to show the officer?”

Lo turned toward me again and spread her legs showing her poisoned pussy.

There was a lot of information for the cop to take in at once: the ripped shorts, Lola flashing him, the inflamed pussy.  But he took it in stride and simply said, “Follow me.”  (I wondered if he was wearing a bodycam that would broadcast to headquarters Lo’s exposing herself.)

He was no longer sauntering.  He got in his patrol car quickly and drove so fast that I was hardly able to keep up.

In about fifteen minutes we were at the emergency entrance to the little local hospital.  Lo jumped out of the car as I thanked the officer.

“What happened to her?” he asked.

“We were out on a hike and, I guess she fell into some poison ivy.”

“Naked?”

“No, she was wearing shorts.”

He looked puzzled.

“Hey,” he said.  “You can forget about that speeding ticket.  I’ll revoke it when I get back to the station.”

“Thanks,” I said, genuinely surprised.  “Thanks a lot.  For everything!”

I parked the car and went into the emergency room waiting area.  I found Lo sitting and squirming in her seat.

“You checked in?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“What’s the wait time?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

She was going out of her mind and my questions weren’t helping.

Finally a nurse escorted us to a little examination room that was cordoned off from the others by a thin blue curtain hanging from a bar that made three sides of a rectangle around us.

“Please remove your clothes and get into this,” said the nurse, handing Lo a blue hospital gown.

Lo couldn’t take off her clothes fast enough.  Down went the shorts, up went the shirt.  She spread her legs and began smacking her pussy.

“I don’t know what else to do,” she said in frustration.  “Get me a wet towel.  Cold water.”

“That might make it worse,” I cautioned.

“Shut up and do it!”

There was no debate.  I followed her instructions and gave her the wet paper towel.  She placed it over her pussy.

“Does that help?” I asked.

“A little.  Where is that doctor?”

We waited for what felt like an interminably long time before the doctor finally arrived to examine Lo.

“Is it ok if I’m here?” I asked, not wanting to overstep my bounds.

“Are you her father?” he asked, stupidly.

“He’s my lover,” said Lo.

I was tempted to add, “And father,” but I refrained.  No time for jokes.

“If it’s ok with the patient, then you can stay,” he said, embarrassed.  “So, what brings you here today?” he asked.

Lo hiked up her flimsy hospital gown and spread her legs.  The doctor looked.  “Not usually this swollen, I take it?” he asked.

“No!” said Lo, insulted.

The doctor put on rubber gloves.  I noticed he wore a wedding band.  “May I?” he asked, moving in to touch Lo down there.

I have to admit, I was hard.  Very hard.

He used his thumb to spread her pussy lips and look very, very carefully.

Lo tried to assist him by offering her professional opinion.  “I think it’s poison ivy.”

“Hmmmm,” said the doctor.  “Is it anywhere else?”

“A little on my knees,” said Lo.

The doctor looked at Lo’s knees.

“Do you mind removing the gown?” he asked.  “I’d like to see if it is anywhere else.”

Lo complied.  Standing naked in front of the doctor he looked her over.  It seemed he was examining her more as a man than a man of medicine.

He had her turn around and bend over.  He looked carefully between her ass cheeks.  It was rather degrading to Lo.  Infantilizing.

She turned back around to face the doctor and sat down, naked still.

“Were you in the woods?” he asked.

I was curious as to how Lo would answer this one.

“We went for a walk through the woods, yes,” she said.  “At one point we sat down on the grass.”

“Do you have any rash?” asked the doctor of me.

“No, none.”

“Just you?” he asked of Lo, rhetorically.  “And only, er, there and on your knees?  That is odd.”

Lo was losing her patience.  Not a patient patient, you might say.

“Yeah, well, how I got it isn’t important.  How are we going to treat it?  It’s painful.”

“Painful?”

“Yes.”

“Itchy?”

“A little.”

“How long ago were you, uh, sitting in the grass?”

“I don’t know, maybe an hour or so ago.”

“Well, it’s not poison ivy.  That would take about a day to appear.  My guess is poison nettles.”

“Is that bad?” asked Lo as if being given a terminal diagnosis.  “I never heard of poison nettles.”

“Very common around these parts.  Never saw a case like this though,” he said, looking at Lo’s pussy.

“What can you do about it?”

“Well, normally I’d say soap and water and let it run its course.”

“I can’t even walk!” shrieked Lo in horror.  “There has to be something.”

“An oral steroid will work pretty fast.  But just to make sure it works, do you mind if I take a photo as a before comparison?” he asked, pulling out his cell phone.

“Go ahead,” said Lo, spreading her legs and using both hands to pull her pussy lips wide apart.

“And one from behind, to make sure it doesn’t spread to the anus,” he said, trying to sound clinical.

Lo got up, turned around, bent over, and spread her butt cheeks for him to snap a few photos.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, leaving us alone.

“That was weird, right?” I asked Lo.

“Yes,” agreed Lo, back to scratching and slapping her pussy, now that the doctor was gone.

“He used his own phone to take a photo.  And one from behind.”

“Whatever,” she said, dismissively.  “I’ll give him the blog address if he’s that into me.  Whatever it takes to have this go away!”

“I bet he’s jackin’ off to your photos in his office right now,” I said.

“I don’t really care,” she said, putting her hospital gown on.

We waited.  Lo grew more distressed at her discomfort.  She spread her legs and began slapping her pussy.  She was hoping the pain would replace the itch.  As she was busy between her legs a nurse walked in.  She was taken by surprise when she saw me sitting next to Lo and Lo going to town on her twat.  Lo looked up at the startled woman with an angry countenance and said, “Poison nettles,” and continued slapping the puffy petals.

The nurse disappeared as quickly as she had entered.  Apparently she had forgotten whatever it was she had to do there.

A few moments later a different doctor walked in.  He introduced himself as a specialist from dermatology.  He said the previous doctor wanted him to render a second opinion on the rash.  “Do you mind if I see it?” he asked, clearly aware of what part of Lo’s body was affected.

Lo spread her legs yet again.

The doctor made all sorts of thoughtful, considered grunts and moans.  “Hmmmm, ah.  Yes.  Hmmm.  I see.  Anything on the back or chest?  If there is a rash on the chest it could indicate a severe allergy.  May I check?”

Lo removed her gown again and brought her breasts within kissing range of the doctor’s face.  He looked them over carefully.  “Well, that is good,” he finally said, “appears to be confined to the. . . uh. . . lower parts.”

“May I put on my gown or did you want to check my ass?” asked Lo.  “The other doctor checked my ass.  Wanted to make sure it hadn’t spread to my anus.”

“Does your anus itch?” asked the doctor.

“No, not really.”

“Well, if you want me to check it out, I will.”

Lo turned around and bent over.

“May I?” asked the doctor before grabbing her ass cheeks.

“Go right ahead.”

He spread her ass cheeks wide and, as she was bent over, he asked, “It itches here?”  He touched her vulva with his fingers.  Notably, he wasn’t wearing gloves, but he too was wearing a wedding band.

“Yes.  It stings a bit there.”

“And here?” he asked as he slid his fingers to the back of her pussy.

“Yes,” she said over her shoulder.

“But nothing here,” he said, running his fingertips gently around Lo’s anus.

“No.”

“That’s good,” he said, letting go of her ass.  “You may turn around.”

“Do you also want a photo?” asked Lo.

“What?  Uh, no.  That is not necessary.”

“Because the other doctor has a few?”

“Yes, yes.”

“He showed you?”

“No, he didn’t,” said the doctor, blushing.

“Will a third doctor need to see me?  Maybe all the male doctors of the hospital would like to render an opinion?”

At this point I couldn’t tell if Lo was sarcastically calling out the doctor’s unprofessional voyeurism or if she was letting her fantastically erotic imagination run wild.

“That won’t be necessary,” said the doctor.  “I’ll just go consult with my colleague and we’ll get you a prescription.”

“This town is full of sexually frustrated men,” said Lo to me when we were alone again.  “And I have to pee,” she added.

“There has to be a bathroom close by.”

“B-R-B,” she said, getting up and leaving our little semi-private area, walking down the hall with her butt crack exposed by the hospital gown.

When she returned, I asked her, “Did you really have to pee or did you just want to put on a little show?”

“A little from column A and a little from column B.”

She laid down on her side, her rear exposed by the skimpy hospital gown in the back.

Another nurse popped in and saw Lo’s rear.  She looked at me.  “The doctor will be right here,” she said.  She looked at Lo and asked me, “Is she ok?”

“Yes,” I said, “just recovering from overexposure.”

The nurse looked puzzled and disappeared.

Lo sat up and said, “More people have seen my ass here than in our books.”

“That’s not true,” I said, my pride bruised by the comment.  “I know, on good authority, that your ass has been seen by thousands.”

“Give it some time,” replied Lo.

Now both doctors returned to our room.

“Amazing attention you’re getting, Lo,” I said.  “Does your staff treat everyone this way or is this a particularly extraordinary case of poison pussy?” I asked the doctors.  They chuckled.

“Here is the prescription said the first doctor,” handing me the note.

“And here is an ointment that should cool down and numb the stinging and itching pretty quickly,” he said, passing it to Lola.

“Can I apply it right now?” she asked, eagerly taking the small tube from him.

“Yes.”

Before either of the doctors could leave, Lo removed the cap and looked up at them.  “How much should I use?”

“About enough to cover the tip of your finger should do it,” said the doctor.

Lo squeezed out the white cream that looked like toothpaste and applied it to her fingertip.  She then spread her legs and smeared it all around the labia.

“Is it for external use only?  Cause it itches inside a bit too.”

“Do you mind,” said the doctor, “if I show you how you can apply it to the sensitive region?”

“Not at all.”

The doctor then put a dab on his fingertip and rubbed the ointment up and down Lo’s pussy lips, careful not to penetrate.  “I’d recommend not going any deeper than that,” he said.

Lo was moaning, “MMMMmmmmm, that feels good.  Tingly.  Can you apply some to my anus, doctor?  It’s beginning to itch too.”

Lo lifted her legs higher, exposing her behind to both doctors.  The doctor ran his finger around her sphincter.  “How’s that?”

“Much better,” moaned Lo seductively.  “So, nothing internal?”

“No, not with this.  I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“If it itches internally?” asked Lo.

“Well, KY jelly or lube is fine.  It may help cool it down.”

“You’ll take care of me?” Lo asked, looking at me.  I could almost hear her say, “Daddy.”

“Yes, Lo.  I’ll try to be as attentive as these good doctors.”

She smiled.  She spread her legs again and asked, “Did you get all the affected areas?”

The doctor applied a tad bit more of the cream to his fingertip and began to apply it to her clit.  Big mistake.

I saw her look up at me.  She bit her lower lip.  I saw her hands tense up and her nails dig into the backs of her legs.

Suddenly, Lo squirted a laser-like shot directly onto her tits.  It was a strange shot since she was contorted with her legs being held by her arms and her anus exposed.

“Wow!” remarked the doctor who was standing up, breaking with his professional demeanor.

“Whoops!” squealed Lo, playfully, “I sometimes do that.”

She let her legs down and as she did so, another squirt shot out and got the doctor in front of her, right on his chest.

“I can’t control it.  Honestly!” she said defensively.

“It’s ok,” said the good doctor, calmly, yet taking a couple of steps back.

“I’ve just been rubbing it all day and so now it’s. . .”

She squirted a third time on the white tile floor, making a puddle.  This time she didn’t try to stop.  It was a lot.  Her head went back and she said, “Fuuuuuuck!”  Since we weren’t cut off from the rest of the emergency room by real walls, I’m sure those in the immediate vicinity could hear her.

“Well,” said one of the doctor as he wiped down his tie, “if that will be all, we’ll get going.”

“Thank you.  Thank you both,” said Lo, a smile on her face clearly apparent even under her mask, her legs pressed together over the mess she had made.  She batted her eyelashes at the two doctors flirtatiously.  I passed her a few tissues to wipe down her chest.

The doctors lingered to watch her do this.  She dried herself off and then reached in her bag and pulled out a magazine.

“I can tell that you both are two very ethical men of science,” began Lo.  I was wondering where she was going with this.  “Perhaps you’d be interested in reading this magazine I happen to have found in the waiting room of the hospital?  There’s a fascinating article in it on nymphomania.  Actually, I have more than just a casual interest in this subject and I’d be very interested to get your professional opinions on it and the claims made in the article.”  She passed one of the doctors a copy of Ethical Non-Monogamy.  An article I had written about Lola was featured with a spread of her.  It was called, “A Report on the Nymphomaniac Condition.”  Lo found a pen next to her on the small table and carefully wrote her email address, downloladown@gmail.com, on the back cover of the magazine.

ENM Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine Lola Spread

The doctors left, magazine in hand like a consolation prize.

“Lo,” I said disapprovingly.  “You are bad.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”  She shrugged her shoulders as if to say that it’s all beyond her control – the exhibitionism, the squirting, the flirting, the manipulation.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said, “before they call the cops on you.”

“I didn’t do anything illegal.  Why would they call the cops?”

“Carrying a concealed weapon.”

“I’m naked, what could I possibly carry that’s concealed?”

“Your dirty mind!”

“Well, you would get me off, wouldn’t you Daddy?”

“I think it would take me and the rest of the town to get you off completely.”

“Well, let’s get home and you can examine the body of evidence.”

It was getting dark as we drove to John’s home where she had me wait on her hand-and-foot through her convalescence.

[To be continued. . . ]

Smalltown Strumpet – A Room with a View

Part I – A Room with a View

Book Cover, Excerpt

How do you like the view?

My friend John has a large house out in the woods.  After fifteen months of COVID lockdown, he and his family were eager to get out and go on a vacation.  He called me up one day and asked if Lo and I would be interested in a house swap.  We’d get to use his country farmhouse and they’d get to stay in the city at our apartment.  Lo was game.  A weeklong vacation in June sounded good to her.  “We’ll have a love-fest,” she said, licking her lips.

“When you say it, it sounds like a sextival.”

“Yes, that does sound better!”  She looked off into the distance.  “Imagine,” she said, “Merry-go-arounds, Ferris wheels, haunted houses – all for sexual variety.”

“Don’t forget the fun we could have with cotton candy.”

“We could do that at home.”

“The only downside to this swap is that John had asked if I would install a couple of windows in their kitchen so they could look out on the front lawn when doing dishes.”

John, though very skilled, knows that I worked as a carpenter in my twenties.  He preferred that I do the window framing because he was concerned his amateurish abilities would lead to leaks and other problems.

“Do I have to help you?” asked Lo.

“No, I don’t think I’ll need help.”

“Well, then it sounds like a great plan to me!”

We arrived Friday night and Lo made an excellent meal with the provisions John had left for us.  As a token of his gratitude, he left a very expensive bottle of Scotch for me.

The next day was sunny and warm.  In fact, that was the forecast for the whole week.  I was glad for it, since it meant I wouldn’t have to worry about the weather while I cut a hole in the wall of the house, framed out the windows, installed them, and then did the finish-work on the outside and inside.

As I was arranging my tools for the job, Lo came downstairs in a skimpy bikini.

“And where are you going?” I asked her.

“To tan.”

“Where?” I asked.

“Right there,” she said, pointing to the front lawn.  The backyard was basically woods.  The front lawn was flat and open, but the house was on a fairly busy street – busy for the country, that is.  Cars were constantly driving by – maybe one or two a minute.

“Lo, are you seriously going to suntan like that?”

“Like what?”

“Wearing that thong bikini.”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because. . . because, uh, your pussy lips.”

“What about my pussy lips?”

“They’re too big for that thong.  They’re hanging out and over, flapping on either side of it.”

String Thong

“So?”

“What do you mean ‘so’?”

“I mean, bikinis are meant to accentuate the positive.”

“And you have positively large, long, and loose pussy lips.”

“I prefer to think of them as limber,” she said, pulling at her labia to show me their elasticity.

“Call them limber, call them lithe, call them labia-lobes, I don’t care what you call them, they are flopping in the wind, exposed.”

“Since when have you become such a prude?”

“Suit yourself.”

“That’s exactly what I’ll do.  And I fully expect to find many suitors at the beach this summer.”

“I’m sure that they will expect to fill you too.”

“The more meat between these thighs the better!”

“Well, need I remind you, this is not the beach.  We’re in a rural town in the sticks and you’ll be flashing your wares on the front lawn.  I wouldn’t be surprised if the village vice squad slapped a fine right on your ass.”

“I bet they’d like to touch this fine ass too!” she said, turning tail and walking out the front door.  I could see the silhouette of her labia in her thigh gap as she strutted away.  I watched as she set up her lounge chair on the lawn, close enough to the road for everyone to get a good look.  She purposefully spread her legs as she adjusted her bikini top.  Cars were slowing down as they drove by, in order to get a closer look.

I watched her for a bit before taking a drill to the wall and cutting a hole right through to the exterior.

“Hey Lo,” I called across the front lawn.

She turned around.

“Come here, I want to show you something.”

She didn’t look pleased that I was interrupting her exhibitionism, I mean relaxation.  She sauntered across the lawn, flaunting her ass in the thong to the throngs of people in the street.  At least in her mind that was what she was doing.  In reality, cars were passing by at their usual rate.

“This better be good,” she said.

“Look,” I said, pointing to the circle I had cut in the wall.

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s the bottom left corner of where the window is going to go.  I’ll use the Sawzall to cut out the rectangle, but that’s what I’ve done so far.”

“Are you going to have me praise each and every step of your progress?”

“No, I just thought you’d want to see it because right now it could double as a glory hole.”

“Not for you it couldn’t.  That wall has to be at least eight inches thick.”

Deflated, I said, “You may return to your previous position as lawn ornament.”

I pulled out the Sawzall and recalled how a while back Lo and I looked into converting reciprocating saws into sex machines.  We ultimately passed on the idea because, after a bit of research, we found that a number of women had sustained serious injuries from the DIY project.

I cut through the wall and hung a tarp over it.  That was enough work for one day.

I went to the front porch, opened a cold beer, and watched as Lola played the part of town strumpet for the passersby.

The next day I had to frame the rough cutout I had made.  I measured twice to insure cutting once.

With the three-by-six foot gaping hole in the wall, I had a direct view of my little Lo as she allowed her slightly smaller gaping hole be on display in the front yard.  She wore the same bikini as the day before and today promised to be a repeat performance.

However, word must have spread among the locals, for now there was pedestrian traffic whereas yesterday there was none.  This is a town without sidewalks, mind you.  People – excuse me – men had to go out of their way to stroll casually down the street as if they were on an errand.  No such errand existed because there was nowhere to go.

One of the men, wearing overalls no less, stopped to ask if John was home.

“Nope,” said Lo, looking him up and down over the top of her dark sunglasses.

“His wife home?” asked the gentleman.

“Nope.”

“Anyone home?”

“Just me and my ole man,” said Lo, pointing her thumb in my direction.

At a loss, the overalls observer moseyed his merry way down the street.

A half hour later another voyeur just happened to be passing by.  He was a little more clever than the first one.  He politely asked Lo if she might have a glass of water for him on this brutally warm day.  This had the desired effect of getting Lo up and letting her strut her way across the lawn back to the house to fetch him some water.

He drank it in one swig, all the while looking Lo over from head to toe.

“Thank you,” he said, realizing his reason for standing there was no longer valid.

I swear, Lo should have been collecting admission fees!

You would think not a single man in this town ever saw a sexy woman.

The third day I was all set to lift the window into the frame and secure it.  To my great astonishment, a friendly neighbor came over to offer me some help.  He was in his early twenties and he spoke to Lo, who was again lying out in front, first, asking if I wanted a hand with the window.

She directed him my way.  I said I’d be happy to have another man help me ease it in and hold it there while I leveled it all out before screwing it in good.  I do believe he was eager to do all those things, just not with the window.

He assisted me in the task which took only a quarter of an hour and then he asked if I needed help with anything else.  I told him I was all set.  The rest was just finishing work I could do myself.

He said he’d get going and he walked up to Lo to say goodbye (and take one more good look at her).

She looked at him over her glasses and said, “Like what you see?”

“Yes, yes I do,” he said.

“You hard?”

“No, not right now.”

“Get hard,” she said.

“What?”

“Get hard and jack off.”

“Here?”

“To me.  I like that.”

“Here?” he repeated.

“Where else?” she asked.  “I’m sitting here ain’t I?”

“Yes, but.”

“You can keep it in your pants.  Just let me see the cum stain when you’re done.”

He reached in his pockets with both hands and, watching her lying there, her meaty mound surrounding the thin thong, and he came within a few minutes.

“Good boy,” said Lo.  “Feel better?”

“I can hardly walk, but yeah.”

“Don’t tell anyone about this, ok?  It’s our little secret.”

“Sure.  See you later,” he said as he hobbled away.

I brought her a cold drink once he was out of eyeshot and she looked up at me, accepting it as if she had ordered it from a cabana boy, and said, “Still got it.”

I should tell you, dear reader, that each and every night, after her hours of daytime display, Lo would be hungry for my cock.  Being away from home and her toy chest, she used me to the full extent of my abilities which, as always, was not nearly enough for her.  Those nights, I saw her fuck: a broom handle, a bedpost, and a shampoo bottle.  None of this is new.  I’ve seen it all before, just not in rapid sequence.  The retreat to the country was like a recharge of her sexual energy.

“How about tomorrow we go to town and explore a little?” I asked.  “I’m nearly done with the window.  I can take a day off.”

The next day, instead of Lo donning her microbikini and me sweating away at the carpentry, we put on our rural regalia and ventured out to taste the local flavor.  Apropos of the occasion, Lo was wearing her “Daisy Dukes” and a little flannel shirt.  She tied the bottom front corners of the shirt into a bow in order to display her midriff.  She looked sweet walking down the street in the sunlight.  We hit up the nick-nack stores, the antique shop, the bookstore (of course) and grabbed some lunch followed by ice cream.

She got some long stares from passersby on the sidewalk and in the boutiques.  In the early afternoon, as we were cruising around the countryside just taking it all in, what should we espy on a desolate corner but the local strip club.

It was COVID times, so the establishment had converted a large part of the rear parking lot into a fenced off cabaret.  There was a roughly constructed stage of two-by-fours and plywood, a few small tables and chairs set up for the patrons, and scantily-clad waitresses running drinks from the bar inside to the thirsty men outside.

They were all men, except Lo.  Did they think Lo was a stripper when she walked in with me?  I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.

We sat down at a table and ordered a couple of beers.  We watched the ladies of the hamlet dance and, if I’m being honest, they couldn’t hold a candle to Lo’s flame.  The men were intrigued by the female foreigner in their midst and eyed Lo more than they eyed the day’s entertainment.  Lo knew it too.  She nudged my arm for me to observe the attention she was getting and then nodded in the general direction of the fence where, in handwritten scrawl, a sign was posted that said, “NO MASTURBATING.”

I know the question that was going through Lo’s mind at that moment: Does that apply to women too?

I saw her reach down and undo the button on her shorts, reach her right hand down under them and under her panties (if she was wearing panties), and saw the outline of her small hand rubbing her mons pubis.  It made a bulge in the front of her shorts as her bare legs were spread wide and she watched the women on the stage in various states of undress.  Her head fell back, her mouth opened just a bit.

Lola outside, short-shorts

To Be Continued. . .

Meet Cailah

Cailah

We want to introduce you all to our friend Cailah, an OF creator, MILF, and avid reader of literotica!

Cailah reading Match, Cinder & Spark, Vol. V

There’s been a lot of talk lately about Twitter’s OnlyFans site. First Twitter said they were going to ban sexually explicit material, but then when they realized that they would go the way of Tumblr.  If you recall, as many of us in the kink community do with great disdain, Tumblr sold for $1.1 billion to Yahoo in 2013. Yahoo wanted Tumblr to be allowed as an app on iPhones and so banned any sexually explicit content.  Result: Tumblr sold in 2017 for only $3 million to WordPress! Just goes to show, don’t take away the guys and gals who give you free content and make you rich.

After huge outcry, mainly because, in the wake of this global pandemic that has put so many people, not only sex-workers, out of business, OF was a great way to stay safe and earn a living. And a lot of moms, like Cailah, took advantage of that market.

Sexy Cailah telling you what she wants to do

Luckily, Twitter realized its stupidity and revoked its ban on sexual content. But not before a number of content creators had jumped ship to find other, less prudish, outlets for their sexual energy, creativity, and entrepreneurial spirit.

Cailah topless

How will this all shake out? My take is, the more outlets for people to earn a living, the better. But it does become challenging to find the main spot for creative spirits.

Cailah looks interested

You can now find Cailah at:

https://fansly.com/BeautifulDisaster69/posts

Professional Cailah Photo

 

Cailah Short Shorts

Cailah likes to ride

The Beautiful End

I Need a Dirty Woman, I Need a Dirty Girl

We were into December.  It had been almost a month since our last “drive-in” date with Ron and Nicole.  In the meantime, they kept up an intense correspondence with us through email.  Turns out that they have three kids, all under ten, and she has been dealing with some health issues that have impaired her energy and libido.  He is an avid nudist and exhibitionist who loves to go to clothing optional beaches and bare it all!  Although he doesn’t have that much to bare.  Not to worry, Lo is always intrigued by different shapes and sizes.

Ron

Poor Ron was eager to please – his wife and anyone who would have him.  Nicole, however, was not so keen on sex.  Even before her medical problems dampened her desire, she was not enthusiastic about her sex life with Ron.  They had dated since high school.  They were raised as good Catholic kids and told not to have sex before marriage.  They got married in their early twenties and that’s when Nicole was disabused of the adage “size doesn’t matter.”  No.  It really did matter for her.  But, due to her upbringing, she wasn’t able to think about alternatives.  Masturbation, sex toys, other partners were all off the table.  She wasn’t even comfortable with having sex in any other position than missionary.

Nicole

After the birth of their third child and the onset of medical issues, she not only couldn’t feel Ron’s cock, but wasn’t interested in it anymore either.

They had tried a couples’ counselor, a marriage therapist, and now were working with a sex coach.  They went to a woman Ron had found on the internet who specializes in Catholic sexuality.  She had suggested that they both explore their own bodies alone, with porn, erotica, or whatever excited them.  For Ron, that was easy – nude beaches, exposing himself, and being seen, even if only virtually were already in his wheelhouse.  He had discovered a number of websites where he could hang-out as much as he wished and no one would be offended.

Ron & Nicole – the happy couple

For Nicole, this was much more difficult because her sexual desire was directly related to her guilt.  She required multiple special sessions, one-on-one, with the sexologist.  Through the coaching, she slowly learned to appreciate sex and sexuality in a new way.  Rather than think of it as a necessary bodily function that had to be endured in order to achieve a certain result, much like relieving oneself in the privy, she was opened up to the idea that sex was sacred, divine, and a sacrament.  The Church doesn’t often promote this aspect of sex.  Why would they?  The officers of the institution are all celibate!  It would be like college professors encouraging students to get an education outside of academia.

Nicole

Slowly, Nicole came round to the notion of at least accepting her sexuality rather than being ashamed of it.  And that went for Ron’s sexuality as well – if Nicole could accept that she is a sexual being, then this was the first step to accepting that Ron is also a sexual being.  The next step was to realize that sexuality is not experienced or expressed uniformly.  It is like the sun – its origin is the same, but how it illuminates various objects depends on the individual make-up of each object.  Some are square and green.  Others are round and pink and white stripes.  Similarly, we all feel sexual urges, but they manifest differently for each of us.  For some that means hetero, monogamous, vaginal intercourse.  But for others, it can be expressed in a myriad of ways – from men wearing woman’s panties, to women donning strap-ons.

Nicole

This was a great hurdle for Nicole to overcome.  But, along the way, she was willing to try new things for the sake of the relationship.  Through Ron’s explorations of the interweb, he found Lola, struck up a correspondence, included Nicole, and eventually we had our first “date,” which I already described for you.  Through our correspondence, it became clear that Ron desperately wanted Lo and Nicole desperately wanted to be like Lo.

Nicole

Lola in her thong

They were eager to have a second date.  Due to COVID, we had to take the same precautions, but we arranged to meet in a remote spot, far outside of our city, so that the experience wouldn’t be foiled again.

Ron hanging out

Nicole’s medical issues had done things to her body that caused her even more shame.  She didn’t want us to be shocked so, in preparation for our second date and to help her become more comfortable with her body (that Ron, incidentally, found very desirable) she posed for some boudoir photos taken by her husband.  They emailed them to us.

“Do you still want to do this?” she asked, afraid we’d be turned off by how gravity distorted her once toned and tight flesh.

“Yes!” replied Lo, enthusiastically.  “Every body is beautiful in its own way.”

Much was the same on our second date as it was on the first.  Cold.  Late night.  Dark, vacant parking lot.  The two cars parked next to each other.  But this time Lo had put some thought into the “performance” she wished to put on for the struggling couple.  She stripped naked and danced seductively in front of their headlights.  They had on their high-beams and, thanks to the chill, Lo’s were on too!

Lo sauntered up to the passenger side window where Nicole sat and pressed her tits up against the glass.  Nicole and Ron had removed their clothing too and Lo could get an imperfect view of them behind the frosted glass and through the round figure eight where her tits had melted the icy coating.

Nicole

Lo returned to the car where we had the heat blasting and took out her phone.  She called Ron.  Their phone was on speaker, as was ours.

“Did you like what you saw?” Lo asked.

“Very much,” replied Ron.

“Are you hard?” asked Lo.

“As hard as I can get,” he said.

“Yeah, I saw.  Two inches?”

“Slightly longer than that, when I’m hard.”

“I’m stroking him,” chimed in Nicole.

“Suck him,” commanded Lo.

“Can we watch you suck off HH?” she asked.

Lo looked up at me.  “Will you stay hard if we go outside?”

“For you, darling, anything.”

First she warmed me up in the car with her mouth, the wetness of which only made the shock of the cold air even more acute.

We got in front of the headlights and Lo got on her knees, taking me in her mouth.

We lasted like that for about a minute or so, but then hopped back into the heated car.

Nicole said that Ron had cum already.

“What about you?”

“I haven’t cum in ages,” she said with a certain sadness in her voice.  She also sounded resigned to this fact.

“HH is going to suck on my hard nipples,” said Lo, taking me to her chest.  “I can cum through nipple stimulation alone.”  She didn’t mean to sound as if she was bragging, but wanted to inform them why she’d soon be moaning and even calling out that she’s cumming.

Lo’s Orgasmic Nipples

“I wish I could,” said Nicole.

As I sucked, bit, stretched, nibbled, and tongued Lo’s nipples, we could hear Ron and Nicole getting their clothes back on.  They drove away as Lo climaxed, but they left the phone on to hear it.

When Lo regained her composure, she went down on me as I put the car in reverse and drove home.

Truthfully, I forgot that Lo’s phone was still on as I commented about how hot Lo was and what a show she put on for the couple.

Lo occasionally took her lips off of my cock to remark about how she wished we weren’t in COVID times so she could have let Nicole suck her tits through the window or so she could have gone over to the driver’s side, reached down between Ron’s legs and give him a handjob.

She resumed sucking as I drove the abandoned streets.  She said she wished that Nicole would wear a strap-on and fuck her over the hood of the car.

Suddenly, through Lo’s phone, we heard moaning and heavy breathing.  It was loud – loud enough for us to hear it over my own heavy breathing and Lo’s slurping.  It was Nicole.  She was cumming.

Ron informed us after the peak had subsided that Nicole masturbated (for the first time!) in the car on the ride home, listening to us and the dirty things Lo was saying and she managed to bring herself to a clitoral climax.

Mission accomplished.

 

“This Might Get Messy”

“Hi, I’m here to use your bedroom,” said Meri as she stood in the doorway to my house.

Meri

I was well aware of the plan.  Despite that, she seemed hangdog about showing up on my stoop and having to ring the bell to be let in by me in order to engage in a tryst.  It was all the more awkward because the tryst was not with me, but with the two young brothers from across the street.  Her curt sentence – to the point, devoid of pleasantries – told me all I needed to know.  She was not proud of her choice.  She was driven to do this by some internal compulsion.  She wanted as little interaction with me as possible.  She was hoping that I wouldn’t even acknowledge that I know her.

I know who she is.  I know what she was there for.  I know her secret.

I decided to play to her weakness.  It wasn’t kind of me and I’m not proud of it either.

“Oh, hi Meri!” I said, loudly and genially.  She almost shuttered at the sound of her name and I detected a darting sideways glance to see if anyone was around to hear me say it.

She stepped in hastily, almost landing on my toes.

“Hi,” she said, reluctantly.

Her red hair brought out the blush of her cheek.  She was embarrassed.  She was wearing tight jeans and a black V-neck t-shirt.  Her oversized, dark sunglasses – the kind movie stars wear in order to remain inconspicuous – looked downright comical on her and, if anything, would draw more attention to her, not less.  She was dressed very casually, even understated, except for her fancy, black leather, strappy high heels.

“Why don’t you come in?” I said, getting out of her way as she was already inside.  “Can I offer you anything?  A seltzer?  Coffee?  Glass of wine?”

“No, no thank you,” she said.  She was also nervous.

“Something to eat?”

She wasn’t there for tea and crumpets.  She was there to get fucked and fucked good by two boys less than half her age.  She was eager.  She was guilty.  She was sneaking around behind her husband’s back.  I knew this because, at the very same time that I was letting her into my house for her mid-day delights, Lo was arriving at her house, seducing her husband.

Her timorous greeting was surprising, given how bold and confident she appeared the last time I saw her at the backyard luncheon that Lo and I hosted for her to meet the brothers.  That day she came in with all the confidence and certitude of a seasoned hunter in search of prey.  Her self-assured airs were, perhaps, her most attractive feature.  But now, in the glare of the noonday sun, deprived of young men for whom she turned on the charm, she appeared to me completely transformed.  She was a middle-aged suburban mother of three.  A woman of my own generation.  She and I could have been in high school together.  Back then she would have been the belle of the ball, the prom queen, Ms. Popularity.  But now I could see she was desperate to preserve her youth, in spirit and in appearance.  She feared the ravages of the next twenty-five years.  She hated with a fierce passion the thief who would slowly, methodically, persistently steal from her her most treasured possession – her looks.  That accursed Thief Time! – whom Botox cannot keep out, Silicone and Saline cannot evade, and lifts only delays but fails to destroy.  In that moment, I felt great pity for her.  I could understand her completely and compassionately.  Weren’t we both in the same predicament?

Yes, it may be true, as I’ve often heard women remark with bitterness, that men grow more attractive with age.  Whenever they observe that fact, they never fail to add that it is supremely unfair to women.  Yet, Time steals from us all that which we most covet.  For me, it is my mental acumen and creative powers.  Each time I fail to recall just the right word in a sentence – whether while speaking or writing – I suffer as greatly as Meri when she discovers another age spot or laugh line.

She had aged, and pretty well too for a mother of three boys, but she felt as if Time had stolen more than her prized looks.  It had stolen from her twenty-five years of opportunity.  For twenty-five years she had remained faithful to her husband.  For twenty-five years she had settled for mediocre sex (at best) and the life of suburban ennui.  She felt as if she had been sleepwalking through life and now, her kids grown and nearly out of the house, COVID bearing down on us all, the threat of sickness and death imminent, she had finally awoken from her long slumber.

Though she began her affair with Lola prior to the outbreak of the global pandemic, it probably was the events of 2020 that steeled her resolve.  The news reporters announced that COVID was a threat to “the elderly,” and then it was people over sixty-five.  But then they reduced it to fifty-five.  And finally, people over fifty shouldn’t fly.  In Meri’s mind that was a threat to other people.  Old people.  Until it set in with a vengeance, “Oh, wait.  I’m in that category.  I’m over fifty!  I’m one of the ones at ‘elevated risk.’”

That little thought, that snippet of data, that thread of realization circulated her psyche like a bit of programming virus through a computer, infecting all of the cognitive functions slowly, unnoticed, until eventually, one day, she had made up her mind that if she was mortal and the winter of her life was in sight, then she was going to live out her autumn to the fullest.

The immediate result of that was her here, in my house, staring at me, her contemporary and, perhaps also, in her mind, her rival.  I didn’t view her that way.  But she may have viewed me as such.  She also may have been irritated by the fact that though I was her own age, my partner was the young and lovely Lola – her lover – while her husband was also in his fifties.  If, as I often say, Lola keeps me young, maybe she felt that her husband keeps her old.  At the very least, he was a constant reminder of her fading youth.

“I think you know where the bedroom is,” I said to her, seeing as how she was cool to my hospitality.  “Feel free to use the master bath.”

She looked at me and struggled to form a small smile.  But her eyes expressed a question that she couldn’t bring her mouth to articulate.

“Oh, I’ll make myself scarce so you can let the boys in.”  I emphasized the word “boys” just slightly.

She seemed both appreciative and perturbed.

I opened the closet to take out my jacket since there was an autumnal chill in the air that morning.

Before I left, she plucked up the courage to say, “HH, I know what you’re thinking.”

“That makes one of us,” I replied.  “What am I thinking?”

“You think I’m a terrible person.  You think that I’m an adulterer and a whore for wanting those two brothers.  And who knows what else,” she said with a tortured expression on her face.

“I’m not thinking any of those things,” I replied.  I really wasn’t.  All of that was her projection of her own thoughts on me.

“I’m sure you are.  You’re just too polite to say so.  Who wouldn’t?”

“I don’t.  I’m not here to judge you or anyone.”

“Well, I want you to know that. . .”  She didn’t know what she wanted me to know.  Her sentence trailed off like a road covered by the sands of a desert.

“Meri, all I know is you’re doing Lo a favor and she’s doing you one in return.”

 

Lo pulled up in the cul-de-sac and parked in front of Meri’s house.  Meri had told her husband Scott that she needed a day to herself.  Without the option of going to the hairdresser, the spa, or the nail salon due to COVID, she needed to have some way of engaging in “self-care” and “me-time.” She told her husband she craved some time away, but didn’t say how she was going to spend that time.

Little did he know or even suspect that it was really “fuck-me-time” with two brothers the same age as her sons that she craved so much and how she chose to care for herself.

Knowing that Scott wouldn’t object to her being out of the house, she also informed him that Lola wished to come over to use the kitchen.  She would be making a meal to deliver to a friend who wasn’t doing too well and Lo’s kitchen wasn’t big enough.  The friend had a large family and Lo wanted to help out during these trying times.  All of that was actually true, except it conveniently left out the ulterior motive which was to seduce Scott in order to provide Meri with a clear conscience.  If you ask me, that was not the way to clear her conscience.  My guess is that her unconscious had ulterior motives, one of which was to have her man fuck Lo.  Another of which may have been to prove to Lo how terribly awful Scott is in bed in order that Lo wouldn’t judge Meri harshly for wanting to fuck the brothers.  Her motivations remain murky, but this was the plan.

Lo was assured that the three boys would be out of the house when she arrived that Sunday morning and only Scott would be home to receive her.  Wearing her turquoise pumps and a cute matching dress, Lo practically skipped into the house when Scott opened the door for her.  The contrast between Meri’s skulking and Lo’s bright, cheerful, perky personality couldn’t have been more stark.

Lo carried some ingredients in a paper shopping bag and passed them to Scott at the door, saying, “I just can’t wait to make use of this kitchen!  It’s enormous!  I’m so envious.”

Scott wasn’t used to this sort of feminine energy in his house.  He was enchanted by Lo’s Manic Pixie Dream Girl persona.  Who wouldn’t be?  Lo began talking a mile a minute.

“I have so many plans for this meal.  Will you help me make it?  Are you busy?  Am I interrupting something?  I hope not.  I’m making it for a friend who’s not feeling well and she has four kids.  You can relate, right?  By the way, where are your boys today?  I don’t see them around.  I hope I didn’t scare them off.”

Scott was about to answer each question, but Lo just steamrolled to the next sentence.  He was left speechless.

“This might get messy,” said Lo, “I don’t want to ruin this dress.  Do you mind if I change out of it?  Do you have a kitchen apron I can wear?  Oh, I see one right there,” she said in rapid fire, going towards the door with a hook on the back where the apron hung.  She grabbed it, draped it over a chair, and then slipped out of her dress.  She had on no bra.  All she wore was her blue satin panties with lace frills.  “You don’t mind if I change in front of you, do you?  I hear you’ve already seen me naked.  And you saw me sunbathing in your backyard, so it’s not like it’s anything new.  There,” she said, putting the apron on over her bare breasts, “done.  Now, are you interested in helping me?  You can beat the eggs.  Here, let me show you.  Do you have a lot of experience in the kitchen?  Probably not, with Meri here.  She’s fabulous.  You know, she told me you’d be willing to do anything I ask.  Is that right?”

Lo readily enlisted him to assist her.

“Here, move the whisk in this motion,” she said, grabbing his wrist and guiding it, using the same motion that she would use to jack him off.

For the most part, he made a halfway decent sous-chef.  They made a quiche, a soup, and they were in the middle of preparing the ingredients for a cake when Lo, slightly frustrated that Scott had not made any moves on her yet, “accidentally” spilled the flour on him.

“Oh my!  I’m so clumsy!  I’m sorry!  Let’s get you right out of those clothes.  You look like a ghost.”  She reached for his shirt and helped him to unbutton it.  He didn’t resist.  She went for his pants and unbuckled his belt.  He didn’t resist.  She unzipped the fly.  He didn’t resist.  She dropped them to his ankles.  While she was down on her knees, she looked up at him, her mouth slightly agape.  There was finally a pause to all her chatter.  They looked at each other – she from below up, him from above, down.

“Should we get you out of these too?” Lo asked while gently pulling down his boxers.  He didn’t resist.

Lo was supremely curious to see just how small his member was and, though she had been fully warned ahead of time by Meri, she still was shocked by the diminutive size of it.  It was truly a micropenis.  Lo thought to herself that her own clit is probably larger than his prick.

Nevertheless, there it was.  Erect?  She wondered.  Only one way to find out.  She lifted her mouth to it and took it between her lips the way she would if she were teasing Meri’s clit.  She used the tip of her tongue to flip and lick it.  It grew, but only slightly.  He was nervous.  She could tell by his shallow breathing.

“Do you like?” she asked when she took her mouth off his clit for a moment, looking up at him.

He could hardly speak.

She took his small balls in her mouth from below.  She teased and tickled them with her tongue as well.

She removed her mouth and looked up at him once again.  “Do you want to fuck me?”

She stood up and dropped the apron, revealing her breasts.  She kissed him on the mouth.  He had to hunch over to reach her since their height difference was so great.  She grabbed his left hand with her right and placed it on her right breast for him to fondle it.

“Do you want to fuck me?” she repeated again as she slid out of her satin panties.

“Y-Y-Y-Yes,” he stammered.  “But. . . Meri.  But, I’m m-m-m-married.  I can’t. . .”

Before he could finish his sentence, Lo put her index finger to his lips to shush him.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered seductively.  “Meri knows.  I told Meri how much I have wanted to fuck you since the first time I laid eyes on you.”  She lied.  “She gave me permission.”  This revelation wasn’t in the plan.  It was a last resort in case just this sort of conflicted Scott presented an impediment to their scheme.

He looked startled.  Confused.  He had lived a faithful, monogamous life with Meri.  Their marriage had been the picture of domestic decorum, so he thought.  Where did this come from?  He surmised that it was his fault.  He attributed it to the night he and Meri read the blog together and he fucked Meri from behind while looking at Lola’s pics on the computer.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Lo repeated.

“Yes,” he finally admitted, “but not here.  The boys might come home at any minute.”

He led her to the master bedroom.

“The boys might come home at any minute.”  The phrase was echoing in her head as he walked in front of her.  This made no sense to her.  She was promised they wouldn’t be home.

“Where are they?” she asked before they got upstairs to the bedroom.

“Meri asked them to do some errands.”

“Errands?  Like what?”  Lo needed to know.  She needed to calculate how much time they had together.

“Taking the trash to the dump, shopping, bringing her clothes to the cleaners.  That sort of stuff.”

“When did they leave?”

“About a half hour before you got here.  Why?”

“Just curious,” said Lo.

They entered the bedroom.  To be very honest, Lo did not find Scott attractive at all.  But Lo does find the power to seduce a married man, especially a man married to a woman as sexy as Meri, very attractive.

 

Brothers, Lo, Meri

Meri was doing Lo a favor by redirecting the brother’s sexual attention from Lo to her.  Though Lo has used the boys for their perpetual pumping prowess during the strict restrictions of COVID, when her usual prowling about for pleasure was severely curtailed, and though they have used her like a 24/7 drive-thru window, Lo had grown bored and tired of being the living sex-doll for the siblings.  Spread legs, pump hard, fill ’er up, repeat.  But she didn’t want to leave them high-and-dry when social interaction had been so reduced due to COVID protocols and the strict, watchful eye of their doting mother, who didn’t allow them out of the house or to have visitors over, with the exception of going to see Lo.  Meri seemed to be the perfect wet stream into which to channel their virile energies.

For Meri, these two handsome youths provided a more acceptable outlet for her overflowing and irrepressible gravitation toward young boys.  And not only was there one willing wanker, but two!  Each, roughly the same ages as her sons.

 

The two brothers arrived at our doorstep at the appointed time.  Meri, now dressed in a black satin robe, barely long enough to cover her ass, greeted them at the door.  Thanks to Lo’s preparations, they knew that they would be met by her and not me or Lola.

They were eager to have this MILF, especially after hearing Lo’s rave reviews of Meri’s sexual abilities.  Meri, for her part, was overwhelmed by their youthful good looks, their innocent smiles, their sibling resemblance, their trim and V-shaped torsos that had not yet fully grown into the frames of full-fledged men.  To say she was wet with the anticipation of seeing them both nude, together, standing intensely at attention and desirous of her would be understating it.

 

She led them to the bedroom, allowing them to enjoy the teasing revelations that her robe afforded them from behind.  Once she had let them in the bedroom and closed the door behind her, her demeanor suddenly changed from friendly and salivating over her prospects to stern and commanding.  “Strip,” she said with authority.

The boys were not used to this tone, but they hastily obeyed, unbuttoning their shirts and removing their pants until they stood before Meri without a shred of clothing on either of them.

Meri liked what she saw.  Not only were they fit, with abs as rippled and firm as a washboard, but they were hung like she hadn’t seen in a long time, except in porn.  Each of them possessed a cock that, even when flaccid, as they were then standing naked before her, displayed a girth and length that was very impressive.  She was eager to see just how much those cocks would impress when aroused.

Now that they were naked, she slowly removed her satin robe, revealing a black lace bra and matching black lace panties underneath.

“Lie down and lie back,” she ordered.  The two boys got on the bed – the bed I share with Lola, just to be clear – and she got between them.  She grabbed a cock in each hand and began stroking up and down.  “Let Mommy make you feel better,” she said to them, revealing her kink to them.  They responded with enthusiasm.

 

Lo calculated that this had to be quick and dirty.  Naked, she climbed up on the bed and remained on all fours, looking back over her shoulder at Scott as she said, “Fuck me.”

He approached the side of the bed.  He was very tall.  His cock was aligned with Lo’s pussy, but it was too small.  He made a few thrusting movements and Lo looked over her shoulder again and said, “Good.  Now fuck me.”

“I am fucking you,” Scott said.

Lo couldn’t feel it.

“Get in there.  Give it to me,” she said.

He thrust harder.  She felt nothing but the slap of his fat pelvis on her round ass.

“Fuck my ass,” she said, hoping she might get more stimulation that way.

“Really?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes.  Fuck me.  I need it.”

She could feel him doing something back there, but whatever it was, it didn’t feel like he was penetrating her any more in her ass than he had in her puss.

She didn’t want to make him feel as inadequate as he was, so she gave in and began to moan.  “Yeah,” she said, long and drawn out, “that’s it.  Fuck my ass.  Oh yeah.  I love to feel cock in my ass.  Do you like my ass?  Am I tight?”

Scott only managed to make a few grunting noises.

“Slap it.”

Scott slapped her right ass cheek.

“Harder.”

He complied.

“Yes.  I’m going to cum.  I’m going to cum.  You’re making me cum in my ass,” she said, lying all the way.

Suddenly she felt his warm jizz all over her.  She pulled forward, turned around rapidly, opened her mouth and took his small, wet pud between her lips, rolling her tongue over it, licking it clean.

He immediately fell into the bed like a giant sequoia toppling to the earth.

“Holy shit!” he said.  “Lola.”

And without any other comment, he promptly began to snore lightly.

The whole affair, from the moment they entered the bedroom to his collapsing, was less than five minutes.  Lo knew because she was keenly aware of the time, afraid that they would get caught in the act when the boys came home.

Relieved that her performance was complete, Lo got up and went downstairs to put her clothes back on, but just as she entered the kitchen, she heard the three sons enter from the front door.  She threw on her panties and, without enough time to put on her dress, grabbed the cooking apron.  She was still adjusting it when they entered the kitchen with groceries.

“Lola!” said the youngest one – the one who knew her the best.

The other two gave her a suspicious look.

“Oh, hi,” she said, awkwardly.  “I’m Lola.”  She hadn’t ever formally met the two older brothers.

“We know,” said one of them.

She smiled, realizing that they know her from getting off to her images and stories on the blog.  The three brothers were all very tall, like their dad, but of three different heights.  And they were thin and lanky, indicating that all their caloric intake was still going toward there expanding vertically, not yet horizontally, like their dad.

“Didn’t your mother tell you I was coming over?” she asked.

“No.”

“Oh, Meri invited me to use the kitchen to prepare a meal for one of my friends who is not doing so well.  Your kitchen is so much larger than mine.”

“Do you always cook barefoot and topless?” asked one of the boys rudely.

“Where’s dad?” asked another one.

“He’s upstairs, sleeping,” said Lo, hoping they wouldn’t ask too many questions, like how did you know he was sleeping upstairs and why would you know that?  Also, Lo couldn’t remember if she shut the bedroom door behind her as Scott lay naked on the bed.

She wanted to distract them from that line of questioning and so she “accidentally” dropped the whisk.  She bent over to pick it up, showing the three boys her ass in the cute turquoise panties she was wearing. But her little ruse backfired, so to speak.  The boys, noticing her ass, also noticed that her lower back was covered in cum.

“You and dad?” asked the youngest.

“What?” replied Lola, dropping the ‘innocent little ole me’ routine.

“You fucked dad.  There’s cum all over your back.”

“Ew!” said one of the other boys.

“It’s more like he fucked me,” responded Lo, quickly realizing that in order for this situation to be contained, she’d have to act fast.  “And so can you,” she said to the three of them.  She removed the cooking apron, revealing her breasts.  “Who wants to be first?”

“It’s more like sloppy second, isn’t it?” said the oldest.

Lo walked to the bedroom on the first floor.  She had noticed it earlier.  She turned to the boys, “I’ll be in here.  One at a time.”

One at a Time

She got up on the bed on all fours, as she had done earlier, and slowly removed her panties.  The door to the bedroom was across the open-concept kitchen and she left it open for them to see her wet snatch, inviting them in.  The eldest brother went first.  He took down his pants just far enough to let out his cock.  He didn’t shut the door behind him and the other two brothers watched.  They could only see his back.  His pecker was only slightly larger than the father’s.  He fucked Lo from behind for about ten minutes before cumming in her pussy.  Though more significant than Scott’s ineffectual fuck, this hardly proved substantial enough to get Lo off, but she put on a first-rate performance again.

As soon as that son left the room, the middle one came in.  He too left the door wide open, as if there was an unwritten rule in the house about not closing doors.  He got completely naked and told Lo to suck his cock.  She did so happily and easily since he too was diminutive in size.  He got very hard, though not thick or long, and then turned Lo around and had her doggie-style as well.  He too came in her cunt.  Lo’s faux climax was louder and more intense than the previous two.

Finally, the youngest boy came in.  He had desired Lo for a long time, and especially since he was Lo’s eager student for the intimate biology lesson she gave him when they were camping.  Lo resolved that she couldn’t say no to him after granting permission to every other household member.

He looked like the wolf about to devour Little Red.

“On your back,” he said with a surprisingly authoritative tone.  He spoke like he owned her.

Lo rolled over.

“Spread your legs, wide.”

She did.

“Spread your pussy lips.”

She used her index finger and thumb of each hand to pinch her pussy lips and pull them apart.

He got on his knees and dove in with his tongue, like a honey badger, the way Lo had taught him.  He licked and sucked and sloppily slurped her up, as well as her cream filling, bringing her to her first authentic orgasm of the day.

Then he dropped his pants and entered her pussy.  “Mom always said I could learn a lot from you, Lola,” he said.  He then added, “I can’t believe this is finally really happening!”

Learn from Lola

As Lo lay there, spreading her legs wide, feeling nothing of his repeated and vigorous thrusts, she grabbed her tits and stretched out her nipples, putting on a show as she internally was waiting for him to finish.  She looked over at the bookshelf in the room and read the titles: Tampa, the Fifty Shades series, all five volumes of Match, Cinder & Spark.  That’s when she realized, this isn’t any of the boys’ bedrooms.  This is a spare bedroom that Meri uses for her masturbation session.

She then heard the sound of heavy footsteps upstairs.  She tried to speak, to utter a warning, but the youngest was going at her and he had bent over, sucking on Lo’s udder like it was feeding time.

“Your Dad.  He’s coming,” she managed to articulate just before. . .

Two for One

Meanwhile, back at our house, Meri and the two brothers engaged in just about every conceivable permutation of penetration possible with two penises and a hungry MILF who likes to perform kinky roleplay.  Besides the positions you might readily expect (including many that they had practiced on Lo in the preceding months of using her as their COVID cum-dump), the highlights included Meri taking both their cocks in her mouth at once for a double-brother-blow-job.  Why hadn’t Lo thought of that?  Meri wasn’t ready or able to accommodate the two in her ass and puss because, after years of sex with Scott, the girth of just one cock was almost too much for her, in either orifice.  But she tried to outperform any of the brothers’ previous partners, including Lo, by being as raunchy, dirty, and devilish as she could.  She let her wild imaginings roam free.  The brothers had never experienced anything like that and after the raunchy rendezvous they never could look at their mother the same way again.  As if two brothers sharing a mother (not their own) wasn’t incestuous enough, Meri had to push the boundaries by saying things such as, “You want to suck Mommy’s tits?” and “Kiss Mommy hello,” as she spread her legs, “Tell Mommy how much you love her.”  Meri lost count of how many times she climaxed and also, to her great astonishment, was unable to count how many times the brothers came since, unlike her husband, they were capable of reloading their weapons with astounding alacrity.

As they fucked her, as she sucked them, as they penetrated her ass, as she ran her hands up and down their smooth torsos, as they squeezed her tits, as she held their hefty balls and weighed them in her hands, she thought of all sorts of other perverted possibilities that she’d like to perform with them, for them, on them.  She, being a natural-born schemer, was scheming already.

 

Scott was on the stairs when he saw two of his sons standing by the kitchen countertop, looking intently at something.  He glanced over to the mirror, positioned on the wall just-so, allowing a view of the bedroom door.  There he saw his youngest going at Lola with more vigor and verve than he ever could muster.  He waited on the stairs silently until the show was over and the youngest emerged from the bedroom triumphant.  Then he continued his descent down the stairs and onto the first floor.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, pretending to be oblivious to it all.

“Guess who just lost his virginity,” said the oldest brother, proudly slapping his youngest sibling on the back and presenting him to his father.

Apparently this family really was quite open and matter-of-fact about all things sexual.  However, Lo knew that the congratulations for this accomplishment was actually late and misplaced.  But there was no simple way of explaining to his father or his brothers how he actually lost his virginity, so the youngest just accepted the accolades and smiled broadly.

Lo emerged, naked from the bedroom.  Her clothes were haphazardly strewn about in the kitchen.  There was no other, more graceful way of getting them.  The three boys and their father looked at her as she walked silently.  Her hair was a mess.  Her breasts still glowed red where she was groped and sucked.  And the cum of four men was dripping down her ass and inner thighs.  She could feel it slowly oozing past her knees and down to her ankles.  (Parenthetically, it is rumored that the smaller the penis, the larger the load.  Lo would attest to the veracity of that adage.)

“I probably should be going,” she said as she picked up her panties and slid them on over the tacky mess.  She felt like she was literally the glue that kept this unusual family together.  She slid on her dress and slipped her feet into her shoes.  She could feel cum on her instep as she did so.

“Bye,” she said, trying to smile, trying to walk with class and dignity as her bare feet in her shoes were slurping and her pussy was making gurgling noises as even more cum slid out of her.

Queef

“Too bad you missed Meri,” called Scott to her.

When he said that, the youngest son, who had met Roy and Gary at our backyard picnic a couple of weeks prior, put two-and-two together.  He suddenly realized where his mother was and what (or whom) she was doing.  That’s right.  It was all just a convenient ploy to allow her to have the brothers.  These four men thought they were taking Lo for their pleasure, but they had been taken in by Meri, their mother/wife/lover.  This created a poignant pang of jealousy in the mind of the youngest boy as the full implications of the deception dawned on him.

Lo sped home, fearing that she had gone too far, said too much, fucked too many.  She doesn’t usually feel that way after coaxing the cum from four men, but these weren’t just any random four men.  They were three brothers and their father, the husband and three sons of Lo’s lesbian lover who, at that very moment was coaxing cum from two other brothers roughly the same age as her own sons.

Lo pulled in the drive.  She saw my car was there and Meri’s car was parked across the street.  She had called me on her way and so she knew that I had left on foot for a walk through the neighborhood and to the park.  She asked me to come home.

I arrived just as she did and she asked me, “Where’s Meri?”  Neither of us had to wait long for our answer because, bellowing out from our bedroom window, just as Lo had done so many many times before, was the primal scream of a woman climaxing like crazy.

We both looked up to the window in astonishment at the sound – for it conveyed almost supernatural overtones of pleasure – and in fear.  For how long had she been carrying on like that?

Window Crack

“Doesn’t she know that the brother’s live just across the street and their mother can hear her?” asked Lo, articulating the concern we shared.

Lo parked and tooted the horn to give a signal to Meri that we were returning to our home.

In we went, and from the entrance we could hear the boom-boom-boom of someone being fucked as if bent over a bureau down the hall and in the bedroom.

“Wait here,” said Lo, taking command of the situation.  She strutted down the long hallway and knocked rapidly and loudly on the wooden door.

One of the brothers opened the door.  He stood naked beneath the lintel.  Lo looked in and saw Meri bent over, her hands supporting her by resting on the windowsill, her legs spread wide, and the other brother banging her from behind.  In her behind?  Possibly.  Probably.  The brother at the door, Gary, was limp, sweaty, and panting, as if recently tagged to be replaced by his teammate.

“Look,” said Lo, “this is fun and all, but her bellowing like a banshee is going to alarm the whole neighborhood, including your mom, if it hasn’t already!”

Just at that moment the doorbell rang.  It was the bothers’ mother!  I answered it, slowly, coolly, calmly.

Lo was busy getting the brothers dressed.  Roy, who had been banging Meri, framed by the window, pulled out, hard, wet, and fully loaded.

“Are my boys here?” asked the mom.

“Just a minute,” I said, stalling, “I have to grab a mask.”  COVID precautions.

I ran down the hall.  “She’s here,” I whispered.  I saw Meri, stark naked, cum covered, her hair matted down with sweat and who knows what other bodily fluids, her chest heaving on the bed, her hands cupped between her legs either giving her pleasure or keep the cum inside her.

Lo was in full-on damage-control mode.  “Tell her that they’re helping me move some furniture.”

“Right.”

I returned, no mask.

“They’ll be right here,” I said, nervously, “they’re just banging. . . some furniture.”

“What?  And where’s your mask?”

“Oh, sorry, I couldn’t find it.  Let me go look again.”

I disappeared down the hall again.

“She’s not happy.  She’s suspicious,” I said to Lo.

“No shit!  Make her unsuspicious.”

This time I grabbed a mask from the nightstand.  I went back to the front door and as I approached our nosy neighbor, I went to put the mask on.  Only, it wasn’t a mask.  It was Meri’s black underpants!  And they were quite creamed in too!

“Oh, this isn’t mine!” I said, fumbling.  “I’ll be right back.”

I tossed the panties somewhere, anywhere, and reached in my bag to find a proper mask.  Returning, I said, “Lo’s tied up at the moment.”

This wasn’t exactly true because there had been times when the brothers actually tied her up to the bed and had taken turns with her.  But, as a turn of phrase, it was true enough.

“But my boys, are they ok?  I heard screams.”

“Fine.  Strenuous work, you know?  But they’re big, strapping young men.  Great energy and enthusiasm those two.  You should be proud.”

“They don’t ever lift a finger for me at home.”

“Well, ain’t that just like boys,” I said, not knowing what the hell I meant.  “I assure you, they are always up for the occasion here.  They’ve helped Lo when they’ve come many times.”  I was babbling now.  “And Lo has come and come.”

“What?” she asked, suspiciously.

“I mean, here comes Lo now!” I said, relieved to see Lo appear next to me in the doorway.

“Thank you so much for the use of your boys. . . again,” she said, sweet as pie.  “How can I show my appreciation for everything they do?”

“I just was checking to make sure everything’s alright.  I heard some screams.”

“Fine, fine.  Just the old power saw.”

“Power saw?!”

“Yes,” she said searching for a story.

“Do they even know how to use a power saw?” asked the concerned mother.

“Oh, they’re handy, those two!  They can slice and drill, bang, and erect things like master carpenters.  I’m always amazed at their talents.  Do they take a shop class in school?”

“No!  I don’t think they’ve ever even held a hammer.”

“They sure can wield a tool,” said Lo.  “This old apartment would probably just go to pieces without them.  Thanks ever so much!”

Just then the brothers appeared in the doorway.

“Hi Mom,” said one of them genially.

“Everything alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure,” said the other brother.

“They were just moving furniture,” I said, trying to clue them into the alibi.

“And using the power saw,” added Lo.

“Right,” said Gary.  “Make sure you don’t touch that.  It’s dangerous.  But thanks for letting us help you out,” he added.

“Such sweet kids, thanking me for their time and talent,” interjected Lo.  “I hope I didn’t keep them too long.  I told them you’d be worried.  Especially with all that ruckus.”

The confused but genial neighbor mom finally left with her two angels.

Lo removed her mask and walked back to the bedroom, got naked and climbed into bed with Meri.  The two of them shared stories of their busy afternoons.  Contrary to Lo’s fears, Meri ate up all the nefarious fornicating Lo relayed to her about Scott and the three boys.  Literally.  When Meri heard that Scott came on Lo’s back and the boys in her cunt, she licked Lo’s lower back and labia, lapping up the sticky sap from her sons and husband.

Lo and Meri

Lo returned the favor after Meri recounted with arousal the ways that she was used by the two brothers.  When the two of them finally finished fucking and filling in the gaps, Meri got dressed, sans panties (since later that evening I found those where I had tossed them when searching for a mask) and said a curt goodbye to me.

She felt rejuvenated, light, high, like a teenager again.  She needn’t see my old countenance to remind her of her true age.  She went home to her husband and sons.  She was reeking of sex, sperm, and self-satisfaction.  How was she greeted by her family when she arrived?  I don’t know.

Meanwhile, Lo was reeking too and ready to relive the day’s events by recounting it to me.  We got into bed and she said, “You want me?”

I said, “I do.”

She said, “Well, you’re going to have to settle for Stoya because I’m all fucked out.”

“Really?” I asked in disbelief.

“Well, you can start with her and we’ll see where things go.”

She took out my Stoya Destroya, lubed up my hard cock, and slid the Fleshlight cylinder down my shaft.

“Her pussy feel good?” she asked.

“So good.”

“Kiss me,” she said.

I kissed her wet lips that had done so many dirty deeds throughout the day.

“Tell me all,” I said.

She turned on her back and put the prosthetic pussy between her legs and moved her finger down to the clit on Stoya’s pussy, just as she would do to herself during sex.  She slid it into the slippery slit, pressing up against my shaft as I fucked her – I mean, fucked Stoya.  She knows I love that feeling.  She slid into Stoya’s tight twat a second finger.

Then she began speaking, starting with pulling up in front of the suburban house.  We had to take many breaks because she kept taking me to the brink with her words and wiggling fingers.  Eventually, she removed the sex toy from my cock and replaced it with her own puss, sitting up on top of me, riding me up-and-down.

“Oh, Daddy, you have no idea how much I craved a good, thick, long cock today,” she said.

“I’m glad I can satisfy your craving.”

She chuckled a bit and said, “I wasn’t talking about your cock.  Your cock is serviceable.”

She came nonetheless, but then she asked me to pull out her Remus horse cock dildo to actually fulfill her deepest desire.  I took it out of its box and affixed the suction cup bottom to the full-length mirror about a foot and a half from the floor.

Lo got on her hands and knees and slid back onto the protruding equine penis.  From that position she looked up at me, sitting on the side of the bed, and continued her story, cumming multiple times.

Sometimes I think that she engages in these sexploits only to turn herself on by the recollection of it later.  Anaïs Nin has said, “We write to taste life twice.”  In the same vain, Lo tells her tales to me to be in control of her own climaxes.  By her own account, she came many more times in retelling than in the actual encounter.  As I stroked my cock to her tale, she told me to cum all over her when she got to the part about frolicking with Meri in our bedroom.  She told me how Meri greedily licked all the remaining cum from her body that was deposited there by the three boys and Meri’s husband.  That was the depraved detail that delivered me from my state of delirious desire.  Lo tilted her head up, opened her mouth, and received my offering to her divine chalice like a champ.

Crisscross

It was Labor Day weekend.  The COVID numbers were down low.  Lo Down’s libido was up high.  She always wants summer to last forever, but this particular year she was fearing the worst about the fall and winter.  Predictions were dire.  After her relaxed restrictions with MILF Meri and the brothers, she was increasingly feeling like a cornered animal as the days grew shorter.

Though her camping trip with MILF Meri and her son was way more than she had anticipated and it resulted in a couple of weeks of added anxiety, it seemed that the whole matter had just blown over.  She and Meri had been in frequent communication together, trying to suss out implications of their rendezvous.  Nothing seemed to come of it, to their great relief.

At the same time, they had been conspiring to create a way for Lo to politely bow out of her irregularly scheduled, but frequent, meetings with the brothers and for Meri to have an extramarital affair that could fulfill her desire for young, virile, and large cock, without her having to look too close to home.  Occam’s Razor – simply swap Meri for Lo as the brothers’ playmate of choice and Lo for Meri at home.  But the best laid fans require groundwork.  Lo and Meri set their minds to pulling off the switcheroo.  The opening gambit was introductions.

A backyard barbeque, socially distant, with only a few select guests presented itself as the most appropriate, convenient, and expeditious option.  To our little affair, Lo invited the brothers and Meri.

You might recall that the last time the brothers had paid a booty-call to Lo, they brought over a little something.  After they left, I said to Lo, “That sure is a big package.”

“Whose, Gary’s or Roy’s?” Lo asked.

“Whichever one left it.”  I still don’t know who is who.  It’s not like we engage in any actual conversation when they come over to pay a visit.  That is, when they pay a visit to cum over Lo.

“Oh,” sung Lo, “that package.  I thought you were talking about something else.”

The brothers had left something on the living room coffee table before they abruptly left.

“You know Lo,” I said, thinking about the way they treat her, “those two had better not go into the stock market.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked, picking up the big box and looking at it with curiosity.

“Because their only technique is classic pump and dump.”

“Funny,” she said with sarcasm.

“And you had better get out of the stock market.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“You cause things to get over heated and that leads to dangerous inflation.”

“You are taxing the economic analogies,” she said.

“And you’re a quick wit.”

“And a faster fuck.”

“What’s in the box?” I asked, returning to the large item on the coffee table.

Lo picked it up, shook it, and then slowly slid off the top.

“Oh, look at that!  The brothers’ mother sent over a little thank you gift.”

“Is it a large box of condoms?”

“No, silly.  Besides, it would be a box of large condoms for those two!”

“Then what is it?”

Out of the box she pulled a hefty blue glass vase.

“Isn’t that sweet,” I said, “a wide receptacle in which to place long stems.”

“Enough of the single-entendre.  There’s a note.  ‘Dear Lola, Thank you so much for all your care and concern for my boys.  They have told me how sweet you are to them and, as their mother, I appreciate it.’  That was nice.”

“Little does she know how sweet you are to them!”

“Let’s hope so,” said Lo.

We hadn’t seen them since then.  Lo was busy with her MILF Meri.  And the brothers, well, who knows what those boys were up to.

But now Lo and Meri had it all perfectly choreographed.  The brothers were to join and finally meet MILF Meri who had been keen to bed them ever since Lo hatched this plan.  Matchmakers’ schemes rarely ever come off without a hitch and this was no exception.  As if still attached to his mother by the umbilical cord, MILF Meri’s youngest son, the one who tagged along for Lo and Meri’s camping weekend, also came, uninvited, to the BBQ.  As if that wasn’t bad enough to upend Lo and Meri’s machinations, Roy or Gary (I still can’t tell them apart, though they’re not identical twins or even twins at all!) brought his girlfriend, unannounced.  The young, innocent doe was everything Lo despises in a female competitor (and let’s face it, she views almost all females as competitors).  The girlfriend was a thin waif with long blonde hair, big blue eyes, and she was quite young – still in high school.  She wore a cutoff t-shirt, proudly displaying her midriff and navel piercing, almost displaying her underboob, and she wore tight blue denim shorts (fashionably ripped and faded of course), and flip-flops.

The moment she walked into the back yard with one of the brothers, I could see Lo’s soul fuming, even as Lo pleasantly said, “No, it’s not a problem at all that you came.  What’s your name?”  The word façade is from the word face and Lo’s face was a true façade – concealing her inner green-eyed slayer.

“Ell, short for Ella.  Everyone calls me Ell,” she said with a bubbly, vapid smile.

“And you’re whose girlfriend?” I asked, impolitely, reinforcing the interchangeability of the siblings in my mind.

“Gary’s, of course,” she said, grabbing his arm.  I took note that Gary was wearing a blue shirt and Roy wore a black shirt.

“I see.  How long have you been dating?” I asked, offering them a drink.

“No alcohol,” called Lo over her shoulder as she eavesdropped on our conversation.  “She’s not old enough.”

I passed Ell a ginger ale.

“We started dating just before COVID.  It’s been so difficult,” she complained, “because his mother has been so strict about him and Roy seeing anyone.  We’ve only been able to meet in person once or twice since then and all without his mother’s knowledge.”

“Please don’t say anything about her being here today, HH,” requested Gary.  Those were, perhaps, the most words he had ever spoken to me, though he had been banging Lola all through COVID, along side his brother.

“Oh, I can keep a secret.  Rest assured,” I replied, well aware that his trysts with Lo were a secret to innocent, young Ell as well as his ever-watchful and protective mother.

“Thanks,” said Ell, flirtatiously with me.  It was transparently obvious that she was trying to use her sex-appeal to get me on her side.  “And you’re Lola’s father?” was her follow-up question.

Before I could answer, either affirmatively or negatively, she added in her bubbly attempt at charm, “I can see the resemblance.”

“Now you’re just flattering me,” I said.  Luckily, Lola was out of earshot and neither Roy nor Gary let on otherwise.  I think they were dumbstruck, metaphorically scratching their heads at Ell’s inappropriate and incorrect question and my hesitance to disabuse her of the notion.  I winked at the boys, including them in my little ruse.  If they were going to implicitly include me in their deception of Ell, then they owed me an old man’s little joke.

MILF Meri approached and introduced herself and her son, as if he needed her to do everything for him.  He too was still in high school.

“You’ll excuse me,” I said, “I have to get the food ready.  I’m sure you all have lots in common.”  I knew very well that the one thing they all had in common was that they all had fucked Lo, with the exception of Ell, who was in the dark about it all.

MILF Meri was wearing a long, flowy orange skirt with a sexy slit that originated at her waist.  She wore a tight tank-top with a bra that accentuated her cleavage.  I wondered if her son knew that she was attending this party specifically to seduce the brothers.

“Looks like you have some rearranging to do,” I said when I met Lo in the kitchen.

“What do you mean?”

“MILF Meri has her horny son hanging on her and Gary brought a third-wheel who’s not you.”

“I’m never the third wheel,” she protested.  “If anything, I’m the hub at the center.”

“You mean the hole that fits the axle?”

“Whatever.  I’m a well-oiled machine.”

“With lots of horsepower.”

She laughed and said, “Do you think you can distract Shell?”

“Shell?” I asked.  “Her name is Ell.”

“Whatever,” said Lo dismissively, “she’s a shell of a person.”

“Just because she’s young, blonde, stick-skinny, and flirting with me doesn’t mean. . .”

“Flirting with you?!”

“Yes.  Is that so surprising?  You should know better than anyone that I am irresistibly attractive to younger women.”

“Get out of here before I turn you into a gelding!” she said, raising the knife she was using to cut the tomatoes.

I quickly left with a laugh and returned to our company in the backyard.  Soon after, Lo emerged with a plate of appetizers.

“Help yourselves.  HH will fire up the grill and take your orders,” she said cheerfully.

I fulfilled my hosting role, as instructed, and Lo disappeared back inside.  Little did I know at the time that Gary had followed her, leaving his girlfriend to talk to me while I put the meat over the flame.

“I wish you had told me you were bringing Ell,” said Lo to Gary, reproachfully.

“I’m sorry Lo, but she insisted.  I couldn’t say no.”

“You couldn’t?  It’s not your house.  You could have just said that it’s an invitation-only party and she wasn’t invited.”

“It’s not as simple as that,” said Gary, meekly.

“What is it, then?”

“Well, I was hoping she’d meet you.”

“Me?  Why?”

“Well,” he began without confidence, “she’s just not like you.”

“Few women are.  Few men are, for that matter.”

“I mean, she’s so inexperienced.  In bed, that is.  She doesn’t do the things you do.”

“Of course not,” said Lo matter-of-factly, “she’s a skinny chick.”

“What does that mean?” asked Gary.

“Come with me,” she said, grabbing his belt buckle and leading him out of the kitchen, down the hall, to the bathroom.  She shut and locked the door.  She got naked.  She sat on the toilet and unbuckled Gary’s belt, unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock and took it in her mouth.  He was very hard.  She peed and looked up at him, saying, “Guys use me.  I’ll do what a skinny chick won’t.  Would Ell do this?”

Gary reached down and pulled Lo’s head closer to him, causing her to envelop his meat with her mouth until it was in the back of her throat.  While he was enjoying Lola’s oral pleasures, he glanced out the window into the backyard where he could see his girlfriend chatting with me.

Lo pulled her head back.

“Uh uh,” she cautioned.  “You need to stay eager for your girlfriend.”  She wiped, flushed, got up, bent over the sink until her bare rear was pressing up against Gary’s cock.

As she washed her hands, he attempted to penetrate her.  “Can I have you, really quickly?”

“Na-ah,” she said, denying him.

“Just two minutes,” he pleaded.

“I’ll give you one minute.  In my ass.”

Lo reached in the medicine cabinet, took out a tube of lube and circled it around and then in her special spot.  Gary slid right in.  He was desperately trying to cum in under sixty seconds.  Lo was bent over the sink taking it and keeping track of the time.  She had no intention of letting him cum.  She needed him hard for MILF Meri.

At the sixty-second mark, Lo pulled forward and got on her knees, taking Gary in her mouth and looking up at him with a smile.

She could have easily coaxed him to cum in her mouth, but she released him and stood up, saying to him, “You see, boys use me when a skinny chick just won’t do.”  She kissed him, open-mouthed, for a long time while her hand held his hard cock in her palm.  “Maybe I should get a t-shirt that says that,” she mused, “Use me when a skinny girl just won’t do.”

She got dressed and led him out of the bathroom.  Luckily for both of them, the coast was clear.

Back in the kitchen, Lo continued with the food prep as if nothing had happened, but Gary was stunned by Lo’s revelation about the difference between thick and thin.  He was thinking it over as Lo washed some cucumbers.

“You mean,” he began to formulate a question.

“Pass me the pepper,” said Lo, with no time to spare for looking deep in his eyes and explaining the finer facts of life to him.

He passed the pepper unconsciously.  His mind was elsewhere.  “All the stuff you do. . . in bed. . . that. . .”  He didn’t even know how to phrase it.

“Look,” said Lo, “I’m not saying every skinny chick is a missionary-two-minute-no orgasm-might-as-well-fuck-a-slice-of-warm-pie chick.  I’m just saying that if you want to have what you have with me, you should be looking at a woman more like Meri.  Fish where the fish are, you know?”

“Meri?” he said with shock.  “That kid’s mom out there?”

“Yep.”

“But she’s married.  A mom.  A –”

“Amazing in bed!” Lo said, interrupting his slack-jawed confusion.

“What?”

“She’s a fucking animal in bed.  I should know.”

“You and Meri. . . ?”

“That surprises you?”

“Um, well, ur. . . she’s married,” he protested again.  “And a mom.”

“You have to stop seeing only labels.  She’s a woman of flesh-and-blood.  She has needs, wants, desires, drives.  I’m with HH.  That doesn’t stop me.  Or you.  Or your brother.  Or Meri.  Or her son.”

“Her son?!”

“Never mind I said that,” said Lo, happy to have planted the seed of jealousy.  “You should see her tits,” continued Lo.  “Here, will you carry this out to HH?” she asked, handing him a plate of hotdogs.  “Tell him I’m done with them.”

“You didn’t. . . ?”

“No, I’m just kidding,” said Lo.  “Or am I?  Not to worry, I have lots of fresh, long, stiff cucumbers.”

Gary went outside with the dogs and, no sooner had he left than Meri walked into the kitchen.

“What the actual fuck?!” asked Meri dramatically.

“I don’t know,” said Lo, preparing the steak, “what?”

“You didn’t tell me his girlfriend would be here.”

“I assure you, I didn’t know.  But really, remember the story of the kettle and the stove?”

“What?”

“You come in here accusing me of inviting Gary’s girlfriend and you show up with your son.  He couldn’t stay home and make himself a pb&j?”

“I had no intention of. . .”

“After what happened last time, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Lo, really, I. . .”

Lola wasn’t in any mood to hear yet another excuse for why Mamma’s Boy was tagging along with MILF Meri to the party Lola planned especially for Meri to hook up with the brothers.

“You’re making my job a lot more difficult, you know.”

“What did Gary have to say to you?”

“Gary?”

“Yeah.  He was just in here with you, wasn’t he?”

“He wants me to turn his inexperienced, prudish, girlfriend into a slutty sex goddess like me.”

“Ha!  Good luck!”

“I redirected his attention to you.”

“That’s my good little pimp,” said Meri as she grabbed Lo around the waste to give her a kiss.

Just then, her son barged into the kitchen.

“Ma,” he whined, not realizing what he was interrupting.

“What?” asked Meri, turning away from Lo.

“Oh, come on, Mom!  Give it a rest.  Can’t you be around her for more than a minute without trying to get in her pants?”

“I imagine your intentions for coming with me were lily-white!”

He turned around, walked out, and slammed the door behind him.

During all of this, I was talking with Ell.  Since Lo had invited all of her paramours here, I figured I had license to make her just a tad jealous while also teasing the unfortunate girl.

She and I had struck up a pleasant conversation, but she eventually asked to use the bathroom.  I told her where it was and watched as she disappeared inside just as Lo was returning to the party with the salad bowl.

Lo loves to play hostess to large crowds.  One of the most painful sacrifices she had to give up for COVID has been throwing parties.  Well, that is the second most painful sacrifice for her.  The first, of course, was no longer being the community cockbox.  But the brothers had helped mollify her.  She delights in feeding people and seeing them enjoy in her food and drink.  I think that on some deeper psychological level that primal pleasure is connected with the sexual satisfaction she seeks from providing for others to feast on her carnal sweets.  It is as if feeding people is how Lo vicariously fucks them.

Soon after, Ell returned and, acting glad to be in my company, picked up the conversation where she had left off.

“Where do you live?” she inquired of me.

“Oh, I live here, with Lola.”

“Is this your apartment?” she asked, a little surprised.

“I share it with Lo,” I said, matter-of-factly.

“Just you two?”

“Yes.  Why?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to snoop or pry, but I couldn’t help seeing all those photos of you two inside.”

“We make a great couple, don’t you think?”

I could see her effervescence flattening as she continued learning about us.

“Does she have a boyfriend?” she asked, clearly disturbed by what she had seen.

“Many,” I replied, truthfully.  “And a few girlfriends too.”

Now I could see the wheels turning.  She was wondering if I was misunderstanding her questions.  Maybe I was so old that I wasn’t clear what she was trying to get at, she thought.

Just then, Lo came over to me and slid her arm around my waist.  “What are you two talking about?” she asked, giving me a kiss on the lips to emphasize to Ell Lo’s complete ownership of me.

Ell seemed to blanch.

“We were just talking about you and all your boyfriends and girlfriends,” I said.

Lo let out a little laugh and said, in a show of confidential solidarity with Ell, “He’s very good to me.  He lets me do whatever I want.”

“I see,” was all Ell could muster.

“The bedroom has had a lot less traffic since the pandemic, but every once in a while she still asks that I sleep on the couch to allow her and her lover some privacy.”

“And a bed,” said Lo, confused by Ell’s outrage.  “Only I’m allowed to play.  He’s not.”

“That’s fine by me,” I said, with a wink to Ell, “with a beauty like Lola, it would be a sin to keep her all to myself.  But she always asks permission first.”

“He’s so paternalistic,” commented Lo, “But that’s ok by me, because of my daddy issues.”  Lo let out a little laugh as if it were a joke with a hint of seriousness, but poor Ell was horrified.

“I, I, I think I have to get going.”

“So soon?” asked Lo.  “We haven’t even gotten started yet.”

Ell walked over to Gary.

“Strange girl,” remarked Lo.

“Yes, but cute,” I said to get Lo’s goat.

She elbowed me playfully in the stomach.

“Keep it in your pants, old man,” Lo said, “she’s in high school.”

“Like you have the moral high-ground in that regard.”

“Whatever.  If you want her, you can have her.  I’m much better and badder.”

“Oh Darling, you know I’m only teasing you.”

“Such a big tease,” Lo said sarcastically.

“Speaking of tease, I guess I should also let you in on something.”

“What’s that?”

“Ell thinks I’m your father, not your lover.”

“What?!”

“Or, rather, I guess she now thinks that I’m your father and your lover.”

“Oh boy!  That’s why she had to leave so quickly.”

“Yep.”

Roy, Gary, and Ell were sitting together on one side of the small backyard patio, while Meri and her son were on the other side.  Lo and I were by the grill.  We knew something had to be done to get these groups to mingle more.

Just then, to my great surprise, Lily made an appearance in our backyard, sans Jim.  I had no idea she was invited.  Was she?

In any case, this new addition served a convenient purpose.  Lily’s stag arrival allowed her to mingle within and among the three distinct groups of people: the brothers and Ell; MILF Meri and her son; Lo and me.  However, it also made Lo and Meri’s design a little more complicated, for the brothers were captivated by Lily’s beauty and, I surmise, her wedding band.  She was off limits and that is always an attractive feature in a person.

I found out later that Lo had told Lily about our Labor Day garden party and that Lily was extremely curious to meet all the people Lo had been pleasing during the pandemic.  But she was not sure if she would make it since Jim and Lily had another engagement at the same time.  It so turned out that Jim was enjoying himself there more than Lily and so Lily politely excused herself to inspect Lo’s summer conquests.

“Maybe we should introduce an ice-breaker party game?” I suggested to Lo.

“What did you have in mind?”

“We could play find the hidden dildo?”

“That wouldn’t work.  Too many dildos lying around the house.”

“Even better – everyone can be a winner!”

“How about Pin the Butt-plug on the Mommy?”

“MILF Meri?”

“The only mommy here.”

“Sounds like it would take too much skill.”

“Any other ideas?” she asked.

“Each of the women has to hold a beer bottle in her cleavage and pour a sip into a guy’s mouth.”

“You’ve got some perverted ideas,” she said.  “And I like them all.  But that wouldn’t work.  Ell over there is no more than an A-cup.”

We compromised and chose “Heads-Up!” – the charades game you can play using a smart phone.

Lo chose teams: MILF Meri and Gary, Roy and Lola, Lily and me, Ell and Meri’s son.

We played for a little while and as the adult beverages began to work their magic on the adults at the garden party, Meri became gradually more comfortable with Gary and attempted to engage his brother Roy.  Lily and I played nice, but she knew I was off limits and was more interested in teasing out the brothers, creating conflict and friction with Meri.  Finally, Ell and Meri’s son couldn’t have been more awkward together.

We only played a couple of rounds and it became quite clear that Meri and Gary were the hands-down winners of this game.  When it was over, the purpose of the game proved a success – the various parties were mingling and getting to know each other better.

To my consternation, after Lo went inside to prepare dessert, Meri’s son approached me.  He hadn’t said a word to me the entire time.  Not even a hello.  But now he walked up to me and looked starstruck.

“Did you really go to Japan?” he asked.  No introduction.  No small-talk.

“Yes,” I said, politely.

“And studied in a Zen a monastery?”

“That’s right.”

I’m not one to toot my own horn, but he approached me like I was a famous explorer or a celebrity.

“I want to do that someday.”

“I’m sure you will,” I said, mindlessly.

“And Lo really fucked all those guys there?”

He had blurted it out as if it was common knowledge.

“Where’d you hear that?” I asked.

The blog!  And the books!” he said enthusiastically.

“Shhhhh,” I said, pulling him closer to me in confidence.  “Look, it’s all well and good that you know about the blog and have dotingly read every story, but not everyone here knows about it,” I said, looking around at our guests.  “And some of the people here are in the blog.”  Namely: Roy, Gary, and Lily.  Now we can add Ell to the list of characters, I suppose.

“Oh,” he said, comprehending the need for secrecy.  “Well, I guess I just wanted to say, uh, that, I really admire you.”

“Thanks kid.  Good to hear,” I said, feeling like Hemingway.

At the same time Lily had begun to make conversation with Ell.  As I cooked, I eavesdropped.  I don’t know how they got on the topic, but Lily was telling Ell about her time in New York City.

“When I lived there,” she was saying, “I was in a thruple.”

“What’s that?” asked the naïve Ell.

“Well, in my case, it was an older married couple.  They took me into their place.  I had my own bedroom and when either the husband or the wife needed more sexually, they’d page me.  I’d go into the bedroom and service whichever one had need of me.  Sometimes both, but not often.”

Ell’s eyes widened.  Her jaw dropped.  Lily was bragging, but trying to play it as if it were nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Some nights she wasn’t in the mood, so he’d call me in to help him.  Other nights he might have fucked her, but came too early, so I’d use my mouth on her until she was satisfied.”

“What about you?” asked Ell, engrossed by this alternate lifestyle as if hearing for the first time about an alternate universe.

“Me?  Oh, I got a lot of pleasure from it.  I’m like Lo in that way.  I enjoy pleasing others.”

“Like fucking them?” asked Ell.

“Yeah.  But, with me, I’m chaste.”

Now Ell’s mind looked as if it was about to explode.

“What?” she asked in disbelief.

“I’m what’s known as A.O.L. – anal only lifestyle.”

“So he’d fuck you in the. . .”

“Well, not always,” said Lily nonchalantly.  “Sometimes he would bind my hands behind my back and my ankles together, have me sit kajira, and fuck my mouth.”

“Kajira?  What is that?  A Japanese term?”

“No, Gorean.”

“What?”

I could see that Ell was in for an education in the subtleties of fantasy fiction fan sexual positions, so I made my way over to Meri on the pretense of offering to refill her glass.  She was busy trying to entice both Gary and Roy into her den of maternal delights by speaking to them about sports, specifically hockey, as she feigned not knowing how much cleavage she was showing.  I saw the brothers struggling to keep eye contact with her while they desired to look down the V-neck opening of her tank top.  Simultaneously, the slit of her skirt was sliding further and further up her left leg, revealing just about everything, including her pantiless crotch.

I indicated that I would like to pour her some more wine.  She didn’t even look up at me.  She just waved her hand toward her glass, as if I were a waiter and she was indicating a refill.  She had the boys and she knew it.  She wasn’t going to let anything interrupt the seduction.

Everything seemed to be going fine and now that the awkward introductions were over and we were well past the getting-to-know-you period, time sped by.  Before any of us knew it, the sun had begun to go down and we had seamlessly transitioned from an afternoon lunch to thoughts about dinner.  No one wanted the party to end, especially since, due to lock-down and COVID, we had not spent time with this many other people in a long time.

Lo and I, reading the crowd, but lacking the provisions, discussed what to do.  We finally turned it over to our guests, letting them know that they were welcome to stay, but that we didn’t have enough food for dinner.

Sexy Sushi

After a bit of discussion, Meri suggested Sushi.  She said she’d pay for it and the Grubhub delivery.  Everyone gave Meri their orders and she took care of it.  After she was done with the extensive list that must have cost her over $200.00, she said, half jokingly, “We should make Nyotaimori of it.”

“What?” asked some of our guests.

“Nyotaimori,” she repeated, explaining, “You know, body sushi.”

Most people still looked confused.

“It’s an ancient Japanese tradition of serving sushi on a naked body – a woman’s body, traditionally, but it could be a man’s, I guess.”

“Ewww, that’s gross,” blurted out Ell.

“I think it’s sensual,” replied Lily.  “For a lot of people, the closest they come to embodied existence is eating, and even then they do it mindlessly.  This tradition really drives home the experience of living in the flesh.”

“Maybe it drives it too close to home,” added one of the brothers.

“Do we want to try this?” asked Meri, persistent and clearly eager to do it.

“Who would be the, er, serving table?” asked Ell nervously.

“The host should, of course,” responded Meri, quick to volunteer Lola.

“Oh, I don’t think you want to see me naked,” I chimed in, playfully.

“I wasn’t talking about. . .” began Meri, before she realized I was just joking.

“I’m game,” said Lo.  “Luckily I showered and shaved just before you all got here.  Hun,” she said to me, “will you light the firepit?”

“Sure.”

It was a warm evening, but Lo loves the ambiance of a firepit.  Lighting it wasn’t a problem since it was a propane fueled fire.  Living in the city, we couldn’t have a wood-fueled firepit.  We’re lucky to have a postage stamp sized backyard.

Lo went inside, stripped, put on a bathrobe, grabbed a couple of rarely used blankets, and returned to our company outside.  She spread the blankets on the long-neglected picnic bench and the brothers and I lifted it and moved it to the center of the yard.

Not much later, Meri’s phone alerted her that the food would be delivered momentarily.  She told Lo, who went around front to greet the delivery boy.  He had stopped on the street in front of the apartment building and got out with the large bag of food.  He was about to go in the front door when he saw Lo saunter up the side of the building in her white, plush, terrycloth robe.  He looked startled.

“I’ll take that,” said Lo.

“Meri?” he asked, making sure he was delivering the food to the right person.

“Yes,” replied Lo.

He passed her the bag.  Lo reached out for it, allowing her robe to open slightly in the front, revealing her nakedness.

He cast his eyes away as he scurried off like a frightened deer.  Lo chuckled.  She returned to the crowd in the back.

“Food’s on!” she called, adding, “On me!”

Lo slowly removed her robe and passed it to Roy as she climbed naked up and onto the flat surface of the picnic table covered by the blankets.

While Lo was getting the food, Meri had gone inside to grab a head of lettuce from the fridge.

“The proper way to do this,” she said, authoritatively, “is to place a leaf of lettuce under each piece of food in order to prevent contact between food and skin.”

“Very sanitary,” whispered Ell under her breath sarcastically.

“It actually is quite sanitary.  I had the pleasure of being exposed to this time-honored tradition when I was in Japan many years ago.”

At this point, Lo was the one being ‘exposed’ to the tradition.  She was lying, baring all, on the table and looked, if I do say so, good enough to eat.

Meri took the lead and said to Lo, “You’re going to have to lie perfectly still.  Very shallow breathing.  No sudden moves.  Can you do that?”

“I’ll try,” replied Lo, a little nervous.  It was a lot of sushi that rested literally on her shoulders, and other body parts.

Meri placed the lettuce leaves down on Lo’s body, strategically – breasts, navel, the two corners of her Delta of Venus.  She placed a few more on her legs, and in between the other cardinal points.  Then she began to arrange the sushi pieces delicately on their little lettuce plates.  She arranged the soy sauce, ginger, and wasabi on the table, next to Lo.

“Who’s first?” she asked, handing out chopsticks.

Before anyone could answer, Meri turned to me and said, “I think, as co-host of this evening, you should do the honors.”

I took the chopsticks and found a succulent, deep red slice of tuna sashimi resting right over the topmost part of Lo’s slit.

Picking it up with dexterity, I dipped in the soy sauce and ate it all.  It was fabulous!

Others followed suit.  Ell notably refrained with a disgusted look on her face.  She tried to prevent Gary from indulging, but was completely ineffective.

Perhaps the most notable aspect of this cross-cultural culinary immersion was its lack of eroticism.  At least that was my experience of it.  Lo was so focused on her breath and remaining still that it was more like a meditation session than a sensual, sexual foray in exhibitionism.  The guests were careful to grasp their food in their chopsticks without incident to such an extent that they hardly noticed the body upon which they feasted.  It was only, perhaps, in between bites that one could take in the whole scene and even then, there was so little action on the part of Lo that her seductive charm seemed dormant.

The one aspect of it that did particularly strike a chord for me was that this form of hospitality yoked Lo’s two great loves: stylishly satisfying her guests’ appetite for food and elegantly gratifying her lovers’ desire for her body.

When we were all done feasting, and Meri had even popped a few sushi rolls in Lo’s mouth so that the conduit of the cuisine wouldn’t go hungry herself, Lo asked, “Anyone for dessert?” as she spread her legs and scooched down to the edge of the table.

Gary had his girlfriend, Ell, to keep him in line.

Meri thought it might appear unseemly to partake of Lo’s parted pussy lips in front of her son.

Roy seemed vicariously inhibited by his brother’s girlfriend’s harsh judgment.

Lily, though open-minded, preferred thick cock in her ass to giving oral pleasure.

That left Meri’s son.  Maybe he was intent on making his mother jealous after all of her overt interest in the two boys where were just slightly older than he.  Maybe he was tired of being the background wallpaper to his mother’s grab for attention.  Who knows, but after approaching the table, bashfully, he stepped up and indulged exactly the way Lo had taught him on their camping excursion earlier that summer.

Lo’s hands held on to the side of the table as she let him lap her up like a thirsty dog sloppily licking every last bit from his water bowl.

Meri stood at the opposite end of the table and fondled Lo’s breasts, pulling and tugging at her nipples.  Eventually she alighted on a creative way to inflict more intense pain.  She picked up a couple of chopsticks and turned them into a miniature vice in which she trapped Lo’s nipples and twisted them in the primitive torture implements.

Predictably, Lo came and came a lot all over Meri’s son’s eager and enthusiastic mouth, to such a point that his shirt was soaked from the collar to the navel.  Her climactic ejaculation was a revelation to Ell who, if she had ever had heard rumor of such a thing, certainly had never witnessed it.

When the waterworks were complete, Lo slowly got up from the table and found her way to a chair by the fire.  She sat, her bare legs crossed, her head drooping back, as she breathed heavily, catching her breath, causing her exposed chest to heave up and down.  Her nipples were erect and red with the results of Meri’s sadism and from them all the way up to her face her complexion was flush with the rush of blood following her orgasm.

Nipple Twist

Everyone sat staring at the Sushi Strumpet until I interrupted their gawking disbelief with an offer to refresh their glasses or grab them a drink.

Lo asked for a tall glass of ice water.

The night continued on with polite conversation as Lo sat among our circle around the fire, nude among the other clothed guests.  Occasionally she got up to get something or use the bathroom and her entrances and exits were dramatic by design.

Eventually our guests began to file out, beginning with the brothers and Ell, who had to be home early, so she said.

Then, seeing the night had reached its apex, Lily bade us all a good night.

Lastly, Meri and her son said they were off to their sleepy suburban home.

This left just Lo and me to clean up and, let’s be real, Lo wasn’t going to clean up anything.  She went into bed and said she’d welcome me there when I was done.

I found her with her legs spread wide saying, “Oh, Daddy.  Have me.”

There’s a deep, hidden connection between feasting and fucking, I thought.  It is not coincidental that the early Christian Eucharist was an orgiastic experience.  Feasting on the flesh, sacrificing the body to the spirit, elevating the soul through the nourishment of the corporeal house in which it lives, communing with the Holy Spirit through a physical act – all of these could be viewed as metaphors and substitutes for the sacred act of carnal connection and the interrelatedness of all life through the hollowed act of ingestion.  Man/Woman, Life/Death, Self/Other, Sacred/Profane, High/Low, Animal/Divine – all these pairs become intertwined and indistinct in and through the dual acts of copulation and ingestion.  Two uniting into one.  One becoming two.  The interplay of all things in the divine dance of a match: a fading cinder; a spritely spark.  They come together and form a fire that radiates light and warmth, around which the ever-widening concentric circles of the world emanate out  toward a horizon whose circumference is nowhere and center everywhere.

The union of all things

Surreal Sex

 

Feisty Married Couple Getting Off to Lola Together

“When are you going to publish something new?” asked Lola.

“For a nympho going through a dry patch, you sure have kept me busy with new material,” I responded.

“Dry patch!  That’s the worst sort of insult you can levy at a nympho.”

“Well, I mean, you keep complaining that COVID is impeding your libido, but you have me wearing my fingers to the bone typing about you and MILF Meri, you and the brothers, you and your internet fans, you and your new dates, you and. . .”

“Don’t forget me and myself and I.”

“Your favorite three-some!”

“Well, why don’t you finger me and then we’ll bone.  That sounds like more fun.”

“I thought you wanted me to post new stories.”

“It’s not me, Darling, it’s my fans.  They are clamoring for more stories from the elusive, aloof, and elite author.”

“It’s not easy to keep up with the demand.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Do they want quantity or quality?”

“In my book, quantity is quality.”

“I’m talking about writing, not fucking.  And furthermore, you know that’s not true, in your book or any other book.”

“Well, a little more quantity would help.”

“Are you talking about writing or fucking, Lo?”

“If I put your computer on my back, couldn’t we multi-task?  You write while you fuck?”

“You’re absurd!”

“Absurdist literature worked for the Surrealists.”

“Do I look like a Surrealist to you?”

“More like Magic Realism.”

“How’s that?” I asked.

“I’m the magic, you make it real.”

“You know our world is going through a cataclysmic upheaval, a clash of epochs, a seismic shift, and you’re complaining about not getting fucked often enough.”

“Or long enough.  Or deep enough.  Or passionately enough.”

“I think you’re missing the point.”

I am!  I am!  Give me the point, Daddy!  I’m missing it so much!”

“This is no laughing matter.”

“I’m not laughing, I’m begging.  A quicky.  A fast fuck.  A finger fuck.  Anything.”

“I’ll tell you what,” I said looking up from my computer.

“Yes, Daddio,” she said batting her eyelashes at me.

“I just transcribed this little conversation.  I’ll post it today.  No rewrite or review, no context or explanation.”

“Well, our readers might enjoy it, but what about my puss?  Your words are not flesh, no matter how delusional you are about your godlike qualities.”

“Get in the bedroom, spread your legs, and I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Promise.”

“Solemnly swear.”

She stood up and, in a deep voice said, “Fuck.”

“What was that?”

“I swore solemnly.  Now you’ll fuck me.”

Lo Pleases the Lady of the House

Blow with Lo

The Wife’s Panty Drawer

“Lo, you should be more careful about what you say.”

“I know.  I had no idea he’d go through with it.”

“He is an admitted sex addict.  What did you think would happen?”

This is the conversation that transpired between Lo and me after she received a photo set from her friend Al.

Al, middle aged, married, man-about-town, and confessed, convicted, and constantly surveilled sex addict, has discovered one outlet for all his pent-up concupiscence: Lola.

They chat on a regular basis and he loves to penetrate her dark and dirty mind, probing its depths, plumbing its recesses, and discovering what nascent naughty, nasty, nymphomaniacal fantasies, memories, dreams, and reflections he can conjure from there.  Their chats are word porn or sex by non-physical means.

Recently Lo told him, “If you want to know how my kinky, perverted mind works, what I think would be really hot is if you would print out my photo, take pics of you jacking off and cumming on it while wearing your wife’s sexy thong panties, then leaving the photo of me and the dirty panties in your wife’s panty drawer to find later. I know you cannot possibly do that, but wow! – that would be hot!”

The suggestion sent his mind spinning and his cock twitching.

A day later, Lo received a photoset from Al: His wife’s thong; Printouts of Lo’s photos; Him jacking off to the photos and the thong; The thong on Al as he is hard-up looking at Lo’s photos; Al jacking off in the thong; Al cumming on one of the photos; Al putting thong and cum-covered photo in his wife’s panty drawer.

The Mrs.’s Panties (dirty)

Al, Lo’s photos, the Mrs.’s panties

Al Wearing the Mrs.’s (dirty) Panties

Al and Lola b&w

Big Al

Al in his wife’s (dirty) panties

Al’s sweet release on Lola’s ass

Hiding the Evidence Where it is Sure to be Found

“Al, won’t you get in big trouble?” asked Lo.

“She has been prancing around the house in her thong and nothing else, asking for a full-body massage, and masturbating to her own stash of porn, but she won’t let me get off.  This is my passive-aggressive way of telling her that just because someone slapped me with the label of ‘sex addict,’ that doesn’t mean that I don’t deserve to have my needs met, especially with my wife, whom I adore and desire.  It’s COVID times.  I’m not allowed out of the house.  She has managed to block almost all of my naughty websites (including your blog), and she teases me with her body.  It’s like some sort of torture out of A Clockwork Orange!”

“Well, you really got my engine revving!”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  I came to those photos about three times this morning before I even got out of bed.  Poor HH.  I suspect I’m doing the same to him as your wife is doing to you.”

“Again, if you were my wife. . .” he mused.

“I want to hear more!  What if I was your wife?  What would we do?”

“What would you like to do?”

“I’d like you to go to Victoria’s Secrets and bring one of those photos of me that you printed out.  Say to the salesgirl, ‘This is my wife,’ as you show her my photo, ‘and I’d like to buy some panties for her.  What do you recommend?’  She would bring you over to the thong section and show you lace, satin, and all sorts of skimpy shapes and colors.  You’d get hard just looking at them and her, as she holds each one up for you to choose.  You’d pick about a half-dozen.  The salesgirl would say, ‘I can ring you up.’  You’d follow her sexy ass to the counter and you’d pay for the panties.  But, as she’s putting them into a bag, you’d say, ‘Actually, where’s your fitting room?  I’d like to wear these panties home,’ as you remove one from the bag.”

“Lo,” I say to her, “you didn’t tell him to that, did you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she replies, all innocent, “why?”

“Because, you know that at the very first opportunity, he’s going to take a trip to Victoria’s Secrets.”

“I sure hope so!”

“You know what?  You two deserve each other!”

Sex Drive

Our first date flopped.  Cooped up since March due to COVID, Lo was complaining that she hadn’t been on a date in “forever.”

“What about the brothers?  Don’t they count?”  I asked, referring to the two boys from across the street who had been making regular house calls to Lo’s bedroom to unload their pent-up pandemic sexual frustration with the help of Lola’s pussy.

“Those aren’t dates, Daddy.  Those are booty calls.  Pity fucks.  Besides, they’re so young and inexperienced that there isn’t even sexual tension buildup.  It’s all just ram-and-release.”

“You seem to like it.”

“Oh, I love it, for what it is.”

“So, what is it you want?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“My only wish is to please you.”

“That’s good because my only wish is to be pleased.  I want to go on a proper date.”

“So Meri also doesn’t count?”

“Well, she did count, but we dated before COVID.”

“I assume I don’t count.”

“Oh Daddio, you do count.  You count the number of men and women I fuck.”

“I can’t count that high.”

“I’ll buy you an abacus.”

“Is that the thing with the beads on it?”

“Yes.”

“That you put in your ass?”

“No.  That’s a different thing.”

Not an Abacus

“Oh.”

“I want to go on a date with a couple.”

“A couple?”

“Yeah, a married couple.”

“You have anybody in mind.”

“Daddy, I always have many bodies in mind.”

“Any particular bodies for your date?”

“Yes.  There’s a married couple that is trying to get the ole flame flickering again.”

“Let me guess, you think that you can help his wick to grow.”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“Where’d you find this couple?”

“They found me.”

“Not another ad!”

“No, Daddy.  They have been reading the blog.”

“What are their names?”

“Ron and Nicole.  She’s a schoolteacher.  He’s a lawncare person.”

“Interesting.  And how are you going to go on a ‘date’ in COVID?”

We.  We are going on a date.  You and me with them.”

“Again, how?”

“Do you like drive-in movies?”

“Haven’t been to one in ages.  Why?”

“Well, it will be like a drive-in.”

“How so?”

“We’ve picked a place to meet and they’ll go in their car and we’ll go in ours.”

“And?”

“That’s it.  We’ll see where we go from there.”

Skank Suit

We pulled up in the vacant parking lot.  It was cold out for November.  Ron and Nicole pulled up to our right in a late model Cadillac.  Ron rolled down his window.  Lola rolled down hers.  They smiled at each other.

“Hi Lola,” called Nicole from the passenger seat.

“Hi Nicole,” responded Lola.  I waved, foolishly, and smiled politely.

We could see our breath as the winterlike air flowed into the cabin.

My car has bucket seats.  Lo and I couldn’t physically be right next to each other.

Their car had a bench front seat.  Nicole slid over to Ron.  They were in their early to mid-forties, I’d say.  She was pretty.  He was smaller in frame than I had imagined.  They were clearly there to see Lo perform.

Lola stripped naked in the car, but with the windows rolled up, soon the glass was covered in condensation.  Ron and Nicole couldn’t see anything.  The more Lo tried, the more foggy the windows got.

Lo rolled down the window, which had the benefit of allowing Ron and Nicole to see her and to make her nipples very hard.  But they could only see so much.

Lo opened the car door to expose below her chest.  She swiveled and spread her legs, putting her feet up on the seat and fapping her wet pussy.  The couple in the car next to us seemed to enjoy the show, but even I was cold, so I can imagine how chilly Lo’s hairless crotch must have been!

I could see that Nicole had Ron’s cock in her right hand and was stroking it as Lo stroked herself.

That didn’t last long.  Lo was shivering.  The cold air on her nipples made them hard.  The downdraft on her bare pussy gave it goosebumps.  Pretty to look at, but no amount of caressing, slapping, or fingering could dispel the chill.

After about a half-hour of trying, we called it off and said we’d try again another time.

On the ride home, the heat blasting, I put on Poe’s “Hey Pretty.”  The seductive lyrics sang:

 

Hey pretty

Don’t you want to take a ride with me?

Through my world

 

Lo leaned over and said, “Can I just be your cock-warmer?”

“Cock-warmer?  What is that?”

“You just let your cock rest in my mouth.”

Cock-Warming

“We both know that there’s no ‘just’ with you.  Especially after this.”

“I’ll tell you what, you drive and I’ll give you the longest unzipping of your life.”

But just then our little late night drive took a strange turn.

We had just got home and I could tell by the look in her eye she was up to no good.

She walked in the front door wearing that little strumpet outfit she had put on for her audience and, not getting to give the show she had planned for them, she was ready to perform for me.  A bad, naughty little performance for a packed house of one.

She pranced into the living room in her heels, black leather skirt, no panties, leather jacket, sheer blouse beneath revealing her hard nipples.  She turned on the music: Machine Gun Kelly, “Bad Things.”  It was as if she had been waiting her turn in the strip club and the DJ finally got around to her set list.

The blinds were all open as she did her little COVID Cabaret.

“Did you like seeing me in the car tonight, Daddy?”

“I did,” I said as I sat down on the couch to watch her.

“What did you like about it?”

“Your willingness to make a couple happy.  I always say your generous nature is your best quality.”

“I have a lot of good qualities.”

“True.”

“And a lot of bad thoughts.”

“Do tell.”

“If you only knew the bad things I like,” she sang along with the song.

She lifted her skirt above her ass as she bent over by the window.

“Well, Daddy, are you going to give it to me?”

I stood up and came close to her.  I began undoing my pants, but she stopped me.

“No,” she said, “your belt.  Give it to me.”

“Punishment?”

“Yes.”

She assumed the position, bracing for it.

I pulled out my long black leather belt, bent it in half, grabbed both ends in one hand and gently let it fall upon her flesh.

“Oh, come on,” she mocked.  “Harder.”

“I gave her a mild whack.

“Harder.  Wasn’t I bad Daddy?  Wasn’t it wrong of me to arrange this COVID dogging session?”

I gave her a strong spank with the strap.  It made a clear cracking on her ass.  Her body convulsed as if she was surprised by it.  Then she said, “Yesss, that’s it.”

I gave her another.

We hadn’t engaged in this sort of play for a long time.

“You were bad,” I said, reflecting upon it.  “Dressed scantily in public like that.  Like a little skank.”

“That’s right.”

I gave her a harder smack.  I could see the outline of the belt in a red line left on her skin, even in the dim light.
“Again.”

I gave it to her again.

“Harder.”

She got another harder.

“I wish that the three of you could be doing this to me.  You, Ron, Nicole.”

I gave her another WHACK!

“I wish I was tied to a pole naked (except my heels of course) and each of you had a strap to take turns on my body.”

“Why?” I asked as I inflicted another, harder lick of the leather.

“Cause I can take it.  Cause I like it.”

“Why?”

WHAP!

“Because I deserve it.”

SMACK!

“Because I’m so, so bad.”

I gave her one last, forceful spank with the belt before she said our safe word.  She turned around.  There were tears in her eyes.  She reached out her arms and hugged me.  She wrapped her legs around mine.  She was holding on for dear life.

“I hate this pandemic!” she said, weeping.

She slowly descended, her body crumpling around my legs.  She was on the floor, hugging my shins, crying, weeping, naked.

“Come,” I said, helping her up.  “Let me apply some aftercare.”

Spank Me Daddy

I led her to the bedroom where I gently laid her out on the bed, face down.  I went into the bathroom and got out the baby oil.  I puddled some in my palm, rubbed my hands together to warm them up, and gently caressed it over her glowing red ass, sore from the spanking she received.

“Owweeemmmmmm,” she purred, her cry of pain turning to a hum of pleasure.

I made small gentle circles with my palms on her ass cheeks.  I slid my fingers between her ass cleavage.  I ran my fingertips up and down her crotch gently.  I revolved my index finger around her special spot, slowly descending into it, one knuckle at a time until fully submerged.  She moaned with pleasure.  In-and-out I went, first with one finger then with two.  I curled them and fingered her ass much the way I would finger her pussy.

Her body mimicked the motions of an inchworm, rising in the middle and then descending.  Up-and-down.  Faster my fingers slip-sliding in-and-out, until she said, “There!  Stay.  Deep.  Hold it!”  She came.  I could see her pussy juices dribbling down her thighs.  Her ass clenched up on my fingers.  Her body was motionless for a moment before the waves of involuntary convulsions shuttered across the surface from feet to shoulders.

Her sphincter released and I slid my fingers out with ease.

To my shock she was asleep.

I was hard, but happy.  My deepest desire is to please her.