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Interview With a Sex Addict
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Interview with a Sex Addict
AL gets a new monitor to look at Lo in hi-def while working from home, his wife in the next room
This week, we bring out our resident admitted and diagnosed sex addict, AL, who goes by “Al.” He graciously agreed to answer a few questions about sex addiction, for educational purposes. Lo enthusiastically put on her correspondent’s had (and nothing else) and went to work interviewing him and then, took off the newsgirl hat and teased him, as she does.
- How do you define “sex addict”?
Without Googling, I define a sex addict as someone who compulsively engages in sexual behaviors, despite any negative effects created by said behaviors. They’ve shaped/changed their arousal palette, neural pathways, and reward center to release that sweet, sweet dopamine when engaging in their desired sexual behaviors, even if those behaviors result in negative consequences affecting self, family/friends, job, etc.
- Do you consider yourself a sex addict?
Yes, and if not a sex addict—then definitely addicted to lusting after HH/Lo’s pictures and words! Some days I’ll wake up with Lo on my mind and even though I could just stroke right there and cum—I’d much rather click through her pictures and read their words, first.
- Tell me more. How did you come to the conclusion that you are a sex addict?
Obviously, I was living life under the self-delusion that I just had high sex drive and a wandering eye. But after multiple therapists—which were a waste of time in the beginning since I never was actually honest about the extent of my situation—I had one in particular suggest that maybe I have a sex addiction. She also stated that it wasn’t her expertise, so she couldn’t help me in the way I needed. After some reading and podcasts, I reached out to a CSAT (Certified Sex Addiction Therapist) and decided to “come clean,” which coincided with my “rock bottom.” It was through her that I was diagnosed as having a sex addiction.
- Tell me what “rock bottom” meant for you since we all have different bottoms (no pun intended).
What I mean by rock bottom…long story, short: I racked up multiple thousands of dollars on credit cards in my name (via webcam girls, buying girls things, etc.); I was constantly checking sites like PornHub, Xvideos, eFukt, mysexlifewithlola.com; stopping by strip clubs for lap dances; even seeking out guys with whom to share naked photos/videos of my wife; seeking escorts for random encounters; cheating on my (then) fiancée with girls that she hated.
- You’re married to a beautiful, sexy woman. How’s that relationship?
Yes, she is very beautiful and sexy. We’ve been married five years, and together for over ten. We’ve definitely experienced our share of ups and downs. It’s the downs that seem to linger, but that is part of the work. She picked up on some red flags but continued on (as did I). Historically, she hasn’t had a ‘high’ (or medium for that matter) sex drive, and mistakenly, I used to ascribe a lot of the blame on her for my acting out. That was wrong of me. Part of the process involved a ‘disclosure’ of all events/actions that I had hidden away—that was difficult, borderline catastrophic. I ended up making it worse by not being completely honest during my first disclosure, meaning I didn’t come clean to all the details until a second disclosure months later.
Ironically, we’re closer and more strategic (in a non-sexual way) with our relationship now that I’m in recovery. She also sees a therapist who is familiar with partner betrayal (which is very important, or else sometimes the partner receives an unfair share of shame and blame). She doesn’t fully understand (can anyone, really?) but she’s working hard, as am I (sometimes). We do not have sex often, as I’m sure one might wonder…in fact, I’m lucky if it’s once a week and not a quickie. I can see that a day doesn’t go by where it doesn’t hurt her, but life is complicated, and the goal is to be in a better spot than we were.
[Trigger Warning – non-consent]
- Did you have any formative sexual experiences in early life?
Yes. At age 3 or 4, my next-door neighbor—who was around 5- or 6-year-old—introduced me to kissing and touching. She would take me in to the closet and show me first-hand what she must have been introduced to by whomever was (sadly) showing her. Additionally, when I was six, I had a handful of experiences involving my cousin (same age) and her friend, “trying to be like adults.”
I would also add that access to pornography at a young age was formative in itself. The internet really changed things, as well. I grew up in an unstable household; I sought pleasure and seclusion. Given those needs and that environment, it’s no wonder to me that I latched on to the pleasures of ‘sex’ to escape.
- Best sexual experience?
This is a tricky one…my best sexual experience would most likely be with one of my exes— she was amazing in bed…always wanted to fuck, loved to swallow, and LOVED doing it in public places. I think we were at some random party and their bathroom suited us just fine!
- Worst sexual experience?
Is that possible? JK. One of the worst experiences would be one of my first escort experiences. The situation was shady AF, which only prevented me from getting (and remaining) hard. I hadn’t experienced that before, and it was awkward. I remember desperately trying to squeeze my flaccid condom-covered cock inside of her. She understood, but I ended up having to settle for a hand job.
- Who knows of your addiction, if anyone?
As it stands right now, five people are aware of my addiction: my counselor, my wife, my wife’s best friend, one of my closest friends from high school, and oddly enough, one of my professors from my first year back at school. I’ve debated sharing with my brother (I think he has some similar issues) and my 14-year-old son.
- How long have you been in treatment for sex addiction? And do you feel it has worked?
I’ve been in treatment for 3+ years now with a CSAT. It definitely helped me become more aware. I’m sure there are workbooks, strict plans, etc. Before disclosure, we simply identified the really ‘bad’ behaviors (escorts, strip clubs, webcam girls) and put in mitigation efforts (GPS tracking on phone, website filters on phone and laptop). That’s actually the easy part. The hard part is the act of disclosure (if you’re honest enough), and all of the ‘work’ when no one is looking—that’s where the real gains can be made (or lost).
- What would you say to people reading this who are asking themselves: Am I a sex addict or do I just have a healthy sexual appetite?
I would say: enjoy sex. I personally see it as a life enhancer (similar to good food or music); however, if things start getting bad and you’re hiding a lot from people, that can spiral and add so much (unnecessary) stress. Long story short, if there are bad things happening because of one’s sexual appetite, then one should at least look at their impact and see if any adjustments should be made. Life is much more fun being authentic!
- Have you ever met a female sex addict? If so, describe what that interaction was like?
I’ve only read about and been told about them, never meeting one in person. I know they’re out there, but the stereotypical addict seems to fall on males and the partner role is assumed to be female.
- Why do you think sex addiction has become such a popular topic lately?
I think it’s because sex sells and some people look at it as a crutch or excuse to do what they do. (Which is fine, unless you’re causing unnecessary damage as a result of it.)
- Have you read any literature out there about sex addicts or sex addiction? If so, what do you recommend?
Facing the Shadow, Patrick Carnes
“Sex Help with Carol the Coach” (podcast)
“Behind Closed Doors” with Dr. Kate Balestrieri (podcast)
- Would you prefer if you were not a sex addict? Why or why not?
I like being who I am, and I like what I’m into. What I’d prefer is being upfront with significant others, and saying: “Hey, this is me…like it or leave it.” I think I grew up in shitty situations, so I’d use sex, love, flirting, etc. as my drug. Throw in the internet, and being someone who is good at lying, and that’s a potent combination.
- Biggest trouble that sex addiction got you into?
This list is ongoing, but you’re only in trouble if you get caught! (JK) Gigantic credit card bills…I’m a sucker for spoiling a slut or camgirl, lol. Racking those up was the primary driver in hitting my bottom.
- You seem to be successful at your job and still married and a parent. Is there such a thing as a “high functioning” sex addict like there is for a “high functioning alcoholic”? Describe.
Actually, I do think there is such a thing. I was so intrigued by this question, that I even asked it of my counselor—she agreed. Part of being a high functioning sex addict would require being able to compartmentalize almost anything and any time. In doing so, you’re able to build a rationale on the matter. I also know the things I cannot do—although I want to: the strip clubs, seeing escorts, flirting with a slut. And so I am able to navigate the decisions I make, and the steps I take to cover up those decisions if they are of the variety that would ‘give me away.’
- Pros and cons of being a sex addict?
Pros: Good ol’ fashioned dopamine at a relatively inexpensive cost (not including the externalities); typically, a more open, and inclusive mind… Cons: Can be relationship killer, money-drainer, and/or source of depression if not approached correctly (is there a correct way? Asking for a friend, lol).
- Top five fantasy fucks?
#1 – You!
#2 – An all-night bang session with my wife and her best friend.
#3 – Be part of a gangbang…with some amateur local wife.
#4 – DVP (Double Vaginal Penetration, or two penises in the vagina) with my wife.
#5 – You!
- Sexual experience you haven’t had yet but would like to try?
I’ve always wanted to try a threesome, both MMF and MFF. Also, I’ve ALWAYS wanted to share my wife…I can think of multiple scenarios involving her…me watching, not watching, listening, being shown, etc.
- Bonus question: From what you know of me, do you think I’m a sex addict?
From what I’ve gathered, and if analyzed with the actual truths, I do. But do I think there are huge negative consequences affecting you? Probably not, given our society.
After our interview was over, Lo was naughty and engaged in the following interaction:
Lola: I wonder how your jacking off to me plays into your current recovery and relationship with your wife. For instance, what happens when I send you a photo like this?
Lola Teasing
AL: Besides the mini dopamine rush and flinch of my cock? Or, are you looking for how many times I’ve already clicked on the picture, to enlarge and admire it?
Lola: I like to know that you think about me when you stroke that lovely cock of yours to my photos. Now write about that experience. Include where your wife is. How you keep this solo session from her? How it makes you feel? How I make you feel?
AL: Right now, my wife’s sleeping next to me naked. I’m in the bed, hard as a rock, looking at your photos. To tell the truth, I forgot how hard I get reading about you; way harder than looking at porn, that’s for sure.
All solo getting off has to be done on the sly for me. My wife and I have a soft agreement that I’m supposed to inform her when I ‘take care of myself.’. . . I often seek out your photos to simply admire and your stories to see what you’re up to, but. . . one thing leads to another. I don’t always tell my wife when I got off alone and I certainly don’t disclose what I looked at/thought about, especially when it was you. But these behaviors do cause me to develop a guilt factor when I’m wanting to take care of myself—which I don’t necessarily like.
I am fully aware that you don’t help my addiction. However, I am also aware that I have needs too, and my mind is fully capable of rationalizing the fact that getting off to your pictures is a lot safer than the ‘acting out’ behaviors I used to engage in.
Keeping you – your pictures and your stories – hidden away from my therapist and my wife certainly doesn’t help my situation, but, as long as I am careful and respectful, it doesn’t necessarily hurt. I like to think it keeps me in somewhat of a steady-state (which I think is only possible because of the fact that I am ‘high-functioning’ sex addict, as you called it). Deep down, I know that these are behaviors that need to change in order to fully ‘recover.’ But I have to ask myself two things: “Is recovery what I really want?” and “Where’s the fun in that?”
Lola: So you’re saying that getting off to me is what we might call ‘harms reduction’?
AL: That’s an interesting take, but yes, sort of a lesser of two evils (although you’re not evil; naughty, yes, but not evil as far as I know, haha). It’s kind of like, I know it is still reinforcing neural pathways that I’m trying to change, but still I pursue that behavior because of my brain’s ability to rationalize and compartmentalize.
Lola: Thought experiment – what would happen if you were married to me and I constantly had guys (and gals) coming over in order to cum over, in, on, to, with, and for me and you were there to watch? Would that be a cure?
AL: Now that just sounds hot! If that scenario were real, and guys and girls were coming over to cum with, in, and on you, then I think I’d be in my happy place, as long as you (as my wife) wanted it, and so did I. (I do, btw, I very much do!)
Polyglot
Markus Apegren painting
“That’s one thick slick dick!” she said.
“Lo, I’m in my pajamas and I’m not even hard,” I replied.
“I wasn’t talking about you,” she said, not picking up on my sarcasm. “Look,” she said, holding her phone to my face so I could see the surprisingly serpentine appendage which had provoked her initial comment.
“An admirer?” I half stated, half asked.
“This whole COVID quarantine thing has been crappy, but it has also produced some unexpected yet pleasant surprises. I’ve never felt so connected to my fanbase as I do now.”
a hung fan
“Not connected enough, it seems,” I added, under my breath.
“Well, it’s true that I’ve been getting off to them, but the relationship is reciprocal. I’ve heard from guys, wives, husbands, single girls, older folks who live alone, even one coed who had to move back from college to live with her parents and was so horny that hearing her parents going at it in their bedroom turned her on.”
“Luckily she had you to turn to,” I said.
I don’t think she heard me. She was indulging her natural need for self-copulation under the sheets.
“And don’t forget your sister,” I added.
She came.
“Is that the whole shebang?” I asked, wondering if she had any desire left for me. You know, her ole man lying there next to her, in the flesh, ready, willing and able to gratify her every lustful whim.
“That’s the hole shebangs,” she quipped, slapping her puss. I could hear how very wet she was.
“The hole who bangs?”
“Anyone and everyone.”
“How about this one?!” I asked, thumb pointing to my chest.
“You want me, Daddy?”
“How did you guess?”
“Then have me,” she said, holding her phone in one hand, spreading her legs as she lay missionary position on the bed, allowing me to enter her.
“Are you seriously texting while I fuck you?” I asked when she raised her other hand to the phone and was going at it with her thumbs.
“Does it bother you?”
“I’d like maybe ten percent of your attention.”
“You have one hundred percent of my pussy. Go to town.”
I didn’t stop going to Lola Down town, but I was frustrated.
“Who the hell are you writing to?”
“I have a following to satisfy, you know.”
“When you look behind you to see your following, I’m the first in line!”
She didn’t respond. She was engrossed in her text exchange.
“Are you at least sexting? – telling someone about how amazing I am in bed?”
“Yeah,” she said, unconvincingly.
“Tell the truth, Lo.”
“Well, I was actually telling a couple how sexy they are when they mutually get off to my pics.”
In my head I heard the lyrics, “Cause if you like the way you look that much, oh, baby, you should go love yourself.” But loving herself (or fucking herself) was exactly what she had been doing next to me for the past hour or so. I wanted her to respond to me.
“How about you tell me something?” I requested, not politely.
Again, she didn’t hear me. She was texting.
I pulled out.
“What are you doing?” she asked, as if I had just splashed ice water on her.
“I’m stopping.”
“Why?”
“Cause you’re not into it.”
“I was into it. I was into you being in me.”
“I’m a whole person, not just a penis.”
“And I’m a hole for your penis. Put it in me.”
“Put down the phone.”
I was on my knees, looking down at her as her legs were spread with her knees on each side of me. She could see my cock dripping with her juices.
“Please, Daddy,” she whined. “Please fuck me.”
“Not until you put down the phone.”
“But it enhances the experience for me. Come on,” she said, reaching down between my legs and fondling my testicles, feeling how soaked they were. “You know you want it. I can feel how full you are. Just use me. Fill me up. Fuck me. Get your rocks off. Cum inside me.”
I couldn’t resist her voice, though I knew I should. I entered her again.
“That’s it, Daddy. Use your little girl. Drill that dirty whore.” She was saying the words as if reading a script. Her eyes were glued to her phone screen. She was typing again with her thumbs. “Yeah, Daddy. That’s it. Feels good, right?”
Speaking words to me, typing different words to some virtual lover. She was a polyglot.
I finally let myself go. I didn’t care anymore. I released my full load deep inside her. She held me for one second with one hand, pressing it to my back, and then was back at it – typing away.
I pulled out with a sploosh and she rolled onto her tum, her legs dangling in the air, her feet touching at the toes, her pussy dribbling my ejaculate out slowly.
She pulled her right hand away from the phone just long enough to rub it between her legs and then lick some of the cum off her fingers.
“I love you, Lo,” I said as I rolled over to go to sleep.
“You too, Daddio.”
Lola pumps
May is Masturbation Month – Mrs. Tastykakes
Mrs. Tastykakes
She’s married. She’s a mom. She’s bi. She’s sexy. She’s a MILF and a hotwife. And she has an OnlyFans page that allows her to share all her kinky allure with the world.
Her name is Tastykakes and she recently reached out to us to be part of the “May is Masturbation Month” promotion.
She got her copy of Match, Cinder & Spark – Volume V: Shorter Shorts.
Mrs. Tastykakes
As she tells the story:
My hubby and I were at home the night it arrived. I had torn into the packaging eagerly and pulled out the book. I began reading on the bed and he was behind me, fucking me, trying to read over my shoulder, but really he could only see the sexy photos. I was reading the story, ‘Spring Showers,’ about how Lo went for a walk in April and suddenly had to stop in her tracks due to ‘accidental squirting.’ It gave me an idea. It was April. It was warm out. I was feeling slutty and sexy like Lo. ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ I suggested to him, mid-coitus.
‘Can I cum first?’ he asked, or rather, pleaded.
‘Only if you cum in me,’ I said.
He thrust two or three more times before cumming deep in my cunt.
I threw on a sheer, oversized top and nothing else. We walked out into the sultry evening air and I could feel his cum oozing down my inner thigh.
Instead of sexy photos with the book taken inside, we found a few places for a little exhibitionist show. The entire time, my leg was wet and sticky as his load kept coming, mixed with my juices as I was so excited to be taking a dangerous photo shoot in the courtyard of our building. I wonder if our neighbors saw. I sure hope so.
Mrs. Tastykakes
Mrs. Tastykakes
Mrs. Tastykakes
Mrs. Tastykakes
See more of Mrs. Tastykakes here:
https://www.flowcode.com/page/mrstastykakes
Mrs. Tastykakes and Lover
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.
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!”
Friends, Fans, and Fucks
Harder
His name is Al and he is a sex-addict.
“Hi Al.”
He writes to Lo on the sly. “You are my favorite slut.”
“I’m everyone’s favorite slut,” she quips back.
“I have a sex addiction. My wife keeps me under lock and key.”
“If I were married to you, I would not only allow your sex addiction, I’d be your #1 drug.”
“I have no doubt,” says Al. “But why are you such a slut? What explains it?”
Al and Lo
“My man, HH, he is a great guy, but we’re about 30 years apart and I’m a little slutty nympho who drains him of all he’s got.”
“Now you’re begging the question.”
“I never beg, except for cum.”
“So you’re a sex-addict too.”
“Addicts go to meetings. I prefer to say I’m sex-positive.”
“What is it you want?” he asks.
“I want my pussy pounded,” she replies.
“Besides that.”
Al and Lo
“There’s only one thing a woman wants from a man as he pounds her pussy. She wants it harder.”
“I guess I was asking a different question. I was asking about something deeper.”
“Yes – harder and deeper.”
“Let me ask the question this way: Isn’t there a down-side to too much sex.”
“Yes!” says Lo excited. “I was just saying this to HH last night. I let him have my ass and he said, ‘You’re so loose.’ I told him, ‘You’re the fifth guy I’ve had up in there today and not the largest by a long shot! I can’t even feel you.’ There you have it. That definitely is a down-side. The Lola Down side of Lola’s backside, if you will.”
“The fifth cock?! What are you, a prostitute?”
“I’m just your local neighborhood nympho. Word gets around.”
“Do you date these guys or just fuck them?”
“Dating is a journey, usually with a destination. I just enjoy the ride.”
“You are one exceptional woman!”
“I prefer sexceptional.”
“How would you characterize your relationship with HH?”
“He is my rock, I am his Circe. Or maybe his Pasiphae.”
“What does that mean?”
“Look it up.”
“You two have a good sex-life?”
“I Fuck HH when he’s up for it, flirt with others when he’s not.”
“Is that what you’re up to now? – flirting with me?”
“No, I’m fucking you.”
“What?”
“With my mind. You know I can orgasm without even touching myself?”
“Are you cumming now?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes.”
[Long silent pause.]
“There,” says Lo, proudly.
“You just came?”
“Yep.”
“It seemed, well, a little anticlimactic.”
“Not for me. Want to see?”
“Yeah.”
Lo spreads her legs to reveal the wet spot soaked through the crotch of her jeans.
Wet Spot
“Wow! Now what are you going to do about that?”
“About what?”
“Your jeans being all wet?”
“Enjoy it.”
“Can I ask you one more question?”
“You mean, in addition to that?”
“Yeah.”
“OK, shoot.”
“Why are you with HH?”
“Nothing better than a nymphomaniac and a dirty old man.”
“You call yourself a hotwife, but you’re not married. Why don’t you get married?”
“Have you ever read the letters of Eloise and Abelard?”
“I haven’t. Who are they?”
“Look it up. Anyhow, she was ahead of her time when she said to him, ‘I’d rather be your whore than your wife.’”
“And that’s how you feel?”
“That’s how we both feel.”
“Wow!”
“What?”
“That’s a radical take on marriage.”
“Well, I have met enough guys like you who entered into a marriage, but is it a marriage or a mirage?”
“Point taken.”
“Can I see a photo of your wife?”
“Why?”
“I like to know what my competition looks like.”
[He sends a nude photo of his wife.]
“There. What do you think?”
“I understand why you’re a sex-addict. She’s super sexy!!!”
“I wish she had your open mind to match her body.”
“More than my mind is open to her body.”
“Has COVID impacted you at all?”
“Yeah, a lot. That’s why I’m here chatting with you now. Most of my flirting and fucking has to be virtual these days.”
“What about the five guys from yesterday? Are they in your bubble?”
“They sure were yesterday! Far in. You could say that I am the original super-spreader – in a good way, of course!”
“In only the best way!”
Lo Super Spreader
Masturbation Marathon
Lo and I were in the living room, sitting on opposite ends of the couch. She was looking at her phone. I sat with my laptop open, reading emails, when suddenly, up popped an email in our shared account. Unlike most of our fan mail, it wasn’t directed to Lo, it was addressed to me. And it had a few photos attached. Sexy photos. Of my female fan.
“What are you looking at?” Lo asked, never one to be unobservant.
“Nothing,” I clumsily lied.
“What do you mean nothing?”
“Just an email,” I said, telling the truth, trying to pass it off as nothing.
“Let me see,” she said, scooting over, closer to me, suspicious.
How does she do that? How does she know when something is amiss?
My heart was racing. She gets so jealous.
There was nothing to do but give in to the inevitable.
I showed her the email and the photos.
“Nothing huh? Who is she?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t. Just a fan. A connoisseur of fine literature. A grateful reader. A woman of exquisite taste in art.”
“You really don’t know who she is?”
“I swear.”
“She just wrote to you for the first time?”
“Yes.”
“You haven’t carried on a correspondence with her?”
“No, absolutely not.”
“You like her?”
“What do you mean, like her?”
“You find her attractive?”
That is a very dangerous question. The female author of the epistle in question was, in point of fact, appealing. As her missive made clear, she was a wife and mother whose sex life had fallen fallow in the past few years as the children occupied more of her time and energy. But reading about my sex life with Lola had rekindled something deep down inside her and she just wanted to show me exactly where it was rekindled.
“She’s not unattractive,” I said, attempting to be as neutral as possible.
“Let’s play a little game,” said Lo. I was quizzical. “I’ll go through photos of our fans and you tell me if you find them sexy. But let’s do it in the bedroom.”
“What?”
“Yeah, just be honest,” she said as she walked down the hall.
“Are you trying to get me deeper in the hole?” I asked, following behind her.
“Depends on which hole you mean.”
GULP.
“Let’s start,” she said as she took out her computer and went to her special stash of emails and photos. She unzipped my pants and grabbed onto my flaccid member as she pulled up photo after photo. Honestly, I was too scared to get hard.
After about five or ten, she paused and looked at me a moment.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Lo, you know perfectly well what’s wrong. For years now, you’ve made the nature of our relationship clear. Now you want me to look at other women? I think that I’m being set-up.”
“No no no,” she said with a smile. “I’m just feeling like changing things up a bit.”
“You know, I could get just as hard looking at photos of men who’ve sent you cumtributes.”
“Well, maybe I’ll throw in a few of those as well. But don’t be bashful. Let’s keep on playing.”
She scrolled through scores of sexy photos and, for each one she gave me a bit of backstory, telling me the names of each woman and a bit of bio.
“That’s Floss,” she said.
“Yes, I know Floss,” I responded as she went through photo after sexy photo of her.
Floss and Match, Cinder & Spark
“And this is Karla.”
“I know Karla too. In fact I wrote about her.”
Just Floss
“Yes, that’s right. Did you know her hubby, Chris, gets off to me when he has her at home?”
Karla and Chris
“Doesn’t surprise me.”
“This is the author, Larry Archer’s wife.”
“Is she a fan?”
“I don’t know, but I’m a fan of hers. . . and his!”
“And this is. . .” The list went on-and-on. With each new set of photos that Lo opened from her password-protected fap file, she grew a little more excited. If she was a guy (and she sure acts like one), she would have had a raging hard-on at this point. I have no doubt that her clit was fully tumid. She was reaching for it.
Karla over the years
Karla’s husband Chris getting off to Lola
“Um, can you give me a minute?” she asked.
“What?”
“Here,” she said, passing me the Stoya Destroya vagina. “You can use this if you want to wank. But only use my photos.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m gonna have me a wank too.”
“But you want me to leave.”
“Yeah, is that ok?”
“Um no. Not really.”
Larry Archer’s wife
“Just give me a little while.”
She got out of bed to escort me to the door as she got out of her clothes. She put her panties on the doorknob as if she had a paramour over, but it was just her and her fingers, toys, and binders full of women.
I went back to the living room, confused, carrying my vagina. Well, Stoya’s vagina. Carrying a vagina.
I returned to the bedroom and knocked on the door furtively.
“What?” she asked, not opening the door.
“Lube,” I said. “You didn’t give me the lube.”
The door opened a crack. I saw her standing naked. She looked good. Her arm extended, dropping the tube of lube in my hands.
“OK?” she asked, shutting the door.
Stoya front, Lola back
I walked away again.
Finding my way onto the couch, I began writing – this story.
Lo’s orgasmic arias were audible throughout the house. They rose and fell, crescendo, decrescendo. So many ups and downs I lost count. I looked at the vagina sitting next to me and said, “It’s bad enough she needs more from me. Don’t you just sit there and look despondent at me that she’s getting all the action. It’s not my fault you don’t have arms, hands, or fingers to help yourself out.”
Finally, I made use of Stoya, more for her sake than mine. She looked so sad there.
I came, one brief onanistic climax, looking at Lo’s photos on the internet while Lo, in the flesh, was having a grand old time fucking herself just down the hallway. I got up to do the proper aftercare cleaning of Stoya in the second bathroom and saw Lo’s panties still prominently displayed on the doorknob as Lo went at it.
I returned to the couch and took a long nap.
I was woken up by the feeling of Lo’s lips on my flaccid cock.
“What are you doing?”
“Cock-warming,” she said as she lay naked on the couch between my legs, looking up at me.
“You want something?”
“No, Daddy.”
“No?”
“I’m sore.”
“What the hell was going on in there?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I started off jilling to the women I was showing you, but then I was into the cumtributes I’ve been getting. I’m such a slut.”
“Agreed.”
“No, you don’t know why I’m saying that.”
“Do tell.”
“Well, I guess it’s bad enough that I am not faithful to you.”
“I don’t mind. . . usually.”
“But I have a sort of internet boyfriend.”
“What is that?”
“You know, like a work wife or a work husband.”
“You mean when people become overly chummy with people they work with?”
“Yeah, like that, but in my case, it’s with people I’ve met online.”
“Go on.”
“Well, I’ve been cheating on one of them with another guy.”
“I’m sure they don’t expect monogamy from you, dear.”
“Yeah, they’re both married themselves.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“That’s just it!”
“What?”
“Do you think I have a problem?”
“Other than being a nymphomaniacal, egomaniacal hotwife attention whore?”
“Yeah, other than that.”
“No, not at all.”
“Really?”
John Doe shrine to Lola
“If your biggest problem is that you’re sexting with someone behind the back of your long-distance lover while shutting me out of the bedroom so you can fist-fuck yourself because you’re turned on by your fandom, well, hey, we all should be that lucky!”
John Doe gets of to Lo
“I love you, Daddy,” she said, before returning to cock-warming me.
“Want to watch a movie?”
“Sure. What?”
Northerngentleman
“How about Boogie Nights? Have you ever seen it?”
Northerngentleman cums in his wife’s panties.
“No.”
“Oh, then you’re in for a treat.”
- Photos used with permission.
The Body Politic
[An excerpt of the following appeared today in Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine, November, 2020 issue. Waring, political stuff ahead.]
It’s November of an election year. And not just any election year, but perhaps the most vitriolic, divisive, and ugly election year ever. Well, except for 2016. As I’ve stated before, this sacred, sexy space of ours, this small column in the vast expanse of contemporary writing, steers clear of politics, except for the fact that nothing is a-political anymore. Writing about sex, celebrating sexuality, and depicting a strong, independent, sexually explicit woman like Lola Down is itself a political act.
Lola as depicted by Roman Doodle
But in this very politicized climate, it is nearly impossible to provide a playground where the ubiquitous partisan battles don’t bleed over the boundaries we have created. People on the right have appropriated the term “cuck” as a pejorative for the left. Queer men on the left have appropriated “Proud Boys,” to the consternation of that far-right group. Just beneath the surface of these slogans and slurs is a swirl of sexual energy, frustration, confusion, and subliminal eroticism misdirected and perverted into hatred and violence.
Misogyny, racism, sexism, gender identity politics, transphobia, homophobia, xenophobia, and politization of polyamory are all interrelated issues, impossible to easily separate into isolated questions.
We live in strange times; times I never thought I’d see. The President of the United States is a man married (his third marriage, mind you) to a woman born in a different country who had a career as a model, occasionally posing nude and with other nude women in homoerotic images. And yet, he’s not a radical leftist liberal, but embraced by the conservative Christian right! He has had numerous affairs with porn stars and other women, yet that hasn’t prevented him from gaining the backing of the Bible Belt. But his exoneration by the religious right has not been equally applied. Those who work in the sex industry were not similarly embraced or given the same shame-free-pass as the President.
In 2016 the first female presidential candidate was eviscerated, mainly for wearing a pantsuit. Yet, in 2020, between Hope Hicks, Kayleigh McEnany, Ivanka Trump, Omarosa Manigault Newman, Mercedes Schlapp, Lindsay Walters, Zina Bash, the First Lady, and others, it is sometimes difficult to tell the difference between the White House and the Playboy Mansion. Perhaps that is Trump’s appeal to many; he fills the void left by the death of Hugh Hefner.
Hope Hicks gender bending at the W.H.
And all of this tumult and turmoil, not coincidentally, floats to the surface in the wake of eight years of an African American man occupying the White House.
I mention our current and past political theater as a preamble to confronting a porn/erotica trope as ubiquitous and with as long a history as that of the “Lolita” nymphomaniac figure. I speak of the so-called “Mandingo Myth.” This deep-seated belief, whose pedigree can be traced as far back as Ancient Greece and Egypt, holds that African men wield sexual appendages that dwarf those of fair-skinned Europeans. Throughout the ages, the image of the hugely hung black man has been perpetuated as well as perverted in order to promote a racist agenda: The longer the penis, the more bestial the sex-drive, the less human the man and thus the greater the threat to white society, especially its womenfolk. (See A Mind of Its Own: A Cultural History of the Penis, by David M. Friedman, chapter III, “The Measuring Stick.”)
Lo’s idea of a perfect date
Over the centuries, the long black appendage has been compared to a Priapus (that is, the male fertility god), a donkey, stallion, buck, and even a pre-Adam serpent of the Garden of Eden responsible for Eve’s seduction and the Fall. Throughout the ages, but most prominently in America from Reconstruction onward, this archetype of the African American man’s exceptional endowment has been the focus of white fear and fetish, engendering multiple myths, none of them ending well for the African American man. This theme is almost comically depicted in the various King Kong films, but most explicitly in the 1976 version. Plot: The Petrox Oil Company seeks to plunder a remote island of its oil. They find no natural resources to make their venture profitable, but they do find and trap King Kong, a preternaturally large black ape. They return to the U.S. with their unusual cargo. However, Kong has fallen in love with Dwan (a scantily clad, blonde woman played by Jessica Lange). Unable to allow such an unfathomable relationship, Kong is killed. (In the original 1933 version, he climbs the giant phallus, the Empire State Building. In the ’76 remake, he climbs the World Trade Center buildings, thus doubling the phalli.) The allegory is quite transparent: white colonialists set out for raw materials, they return with slaves from Africa whose unusual size threatens their white women and must be killed.
Jessica Lange in King Kong 1976
A year earlier, in 1975, the same myth was played out, only without the allegorical trappings, in the film Mandingo, based on the 1957 novel by the same name, from which the “Mandingo Myth” gets its label, though its predecessors in white Western mythology predate it by millennia.
Lo and an admirer in the park
How do you measure up?
Unfortunately, today we still find this trope used as both the focus of taboo fetishes (“Blacked” porn, which fetishizes both black men with large cocks and white, usually blonde and petit, women) and phobias for political ends. For instance, in 2017, Enrique Tarrio, the leader of the Proud Boys, posted a tweet in which he asked if white women would be more willing to donate $20 to Trump’s campaign or walk past a group of black men while wearing a sundress. (The Daily Mail, 10/1/2020, “Leader of the Proud Boys is the State Director of Latinos for Trump”)
Lola’s fan
In today’s tribal public sphere, there is little we can agree upon, but one thing that is unimpeachable is, as David Friedman says, the one place where race and sex (and we can add politics) converge is the black penis.
Lola’s COVID Gang-Bang Datenight
The long black dong is the symbol of white, male fragility. It signifies the fear of masculine inadequacy and the homoerotic desire for sexual prowess. Both symbol and signifier are pointers and the thick, strong, dark schlong is frequently depicted as pointing at the helpless, weak, innocent white blonde. Copulation by contrast. This ubiquitous trope penetrates deep in the psyche of our culture.
Just as black men are often reduced to their primal virility as exemplified by the penis, so too women are subtly and explicitly made into a medium for the message communicated by the patriarchal culture. In recent memory, the collective unconscious probably recalls images from silent black-and-white films of a damsel-in-distress tied to the railroad tracks by the sinister mustachioed villain. This image is emblematic of an archetype that transcends time and space: the bound female. Ancient stories span the globe of women tied up – as sacrificial victims, concubines, slaves – from the abduction of Sita in the Ramayana to the afore mentioned Dwan of King Kong and, of course, Princess Leia in her famous Jabba the Hut scene in Return of the Jedi (1983) – project and perpetuate the idea of women as victims in need of a hero.
Lola’s Sexy Shoes
From nude or nearly nude women dancing in cages at clubs, raves, and music concerts, to Taylor Swift reenacting the railroad scene in “Mean,” this trope is conspicuously depicted and sexualized, but there are far more nuanced ways of sending the same message. What is the message? Women are weak, needy, helpless, and their power, like Prometheus (an example of gender inversion of the architype) is under wraps. Notice, if you will, women’s fashion, from undergarments to gowns. What is a recurring theme? Straps, bows, knots, strings, and all manner of imagery suggesting restraint while simultaneously revealing skin. Beyond that, almost every article of clothing is designed to depict weakness, vulnerability, and impotence. Watch your local or national news, for instance. How are the men dressed? Buttoned up shirts, ties, long sleeve jackets revealing the least skin possible. They are formidable, as if wearing body armor. And the women? Blouses cut at the shoulder, plunging necklines, form-fitting soft colored tops. Imagine for a moment what you would think of a male news anchor reporting in a halter-top made of thin, silky material.
Lola Upskirt
Beyond the blouses, there are the skirts. Dresses were, perhaps, originally designed to conceal the shape of the woman hidden beneath all the folds and flourishes. But today, dresses and skirts are designed to inhibit freedom of movement, conceal as little as possible, and leave the woman wearing them vulnerable to the inadvertent upskirt.
Lola in a cute little bow
Working our way down, we next arrive at women’s footwear. High heels keep a woman off balance. Not only do they prevent any aggressive action, they inhibit flight. Women’s dress shoes, for the most part, make them a helpless victim in the face of any danger. Beyond that, they continue the ligature leitmotif. Straps, bows, chords, all depict the female foot in a shibari shoe.
Tied Up
It’s important to recall that liberating oneself from the cultural baggage one inherits by virtue of merely being born into a particular time and place is not accomplished by merely adopting the opposite position. In the dialectical structure, inhabiting the antithesis merely reaffirms the thesis. It does nothing to diminish the power of the thesis. Rather, twisting free of the rigid and possibly oppressive cultural constraints is a tricky and subtle art. It requires first understanding the nature of one’s servitude and then becoming master of it.
Lola is by no means exempt from our culture’s conventions any more than you or I. However, she does like to play with the tropes and taboos just the way that a good composer doesn’t merely adhere to the rules of the times, but will surprise and delight by contorting them in unexpected patterns.
Lola’s Cock
Of course, in our relationship there is the patent hotwife – cuck/stag – bull roles to be played. But we emphasize the play of that is inherent in any roleplaying. Lo has her soft spot for knots (of all variety) and strappy heels, dresses, bras, panties, and even corsets. She also has her wet spot for BBC. But it also delights her to wear her strap-on, to wield her cock, and to fuck like a man. Call her a switch if you wish. She also oogles and drools over the many fan photos she gets from black bulls endowed with length, girth, and heft she has rarely met in the flesh. But she also loves her male trans fans who send photos of themselves in their wives’ panties or cumming in their pantyhose. For, when it comes to sex, the one rule that holds is that nothing is essentially anything. Existence precedes essence, as the Existentialists mantra goes, meaning, before we had determined male/female, man/woman, straight/queer, black/white, there were just people doing stuff. Their names, definitions, categories, and expectations of norms all came later.
TV fan of Lola
These observations are meant neither to condemn nor condone the complex cultural code with regard to BBC or BDSM as it manifests in veiled, seemingly innocuous symbols such as popular movies and fashion. Rather, this thought piece is more along the lines of semiotics (the study of signs and symbols in culture) than a cultural critique. Signs and symbols perform a function; they point at something. In this piece, the sign/symbol with which we began was the black penis, which is, innately and ironically, also a pointer. Perhaps it is pointing at our radical possibility for the future. I simply wanted to point that out.
Smaller Big Fan of Lola
Lola Down, Putting the Cum back in Community
Hello Friends!
This post will be heavy on the images, light on the writing. I just wanted to let you all know that I, HH, am in the midst of writing a long-form (novelesque?) piece that I hope to be done with by late November. It’s called “Rogue’s Gallery.” Here are some pre-views.
Also, in our kink news, as many of you know, we have just published our latest book, Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume VI, SlutLife. It was supposed to come out in time for summer reading by the beach, but due to some production hiccups, it didn’t get released until September.
SlutLife
At the same time, Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume III: Writing Under Cover, has come out on audio book, narrated by the amazing Jupiter Grant.
Today’s post is to reach out to everyone in our extended virtual kink community and give a shout out to those of you who have supported us in so many ways, especially during these difficult times of limited social connection due to COVID. We want to hear from all of you, to know how you’re doing and, also, to know if our posts here and our books, have helped you during these very trying times.
We have been so blessed by enthusiastic kinksters showing and telling us about their enjoyment of our blog, books, and audio books. We wanted to share with you the people who make this “work” worth it.
We would be remiss if we didn’t give our first shout out to the voice of MySexLifeWithLola, Miss Jupiter Grant. She is a talented narrator (understatement), author, and a sex goddess in her own right.
Jupiter Grant
Next, we recently received this lovely tribute photo from the seductive and interesting Lilith Avair. She and her Daddy Dom, Michael, (in the second photo) have been crucial to our success. Without Michael’s technical help, this blog wouldn’t exist.
Lilith, Michael, Lola
We also want to give a warm shout out to Lil Gem and her man from PurplesGem. They have been enjoying the books and all of their fans have been enjoying them.
Lil Gem
Lil Gem
Lil Gem
Artistic photo of LilGem
Illustration of HH and Lo by LittleGem of purplesgem.com
LilGem’s Daddy has a happy read.
Lil Gem in B&W
Glad Lilgem didn’t get lil’ jealous about this sexy photo.
LittleGem of PurpleGem reads about Lola Down
Nikki reaching for her Lo fetish
In addition to Lil’Gem, we have also had some fun with Darling Nikki of Love Is a Fetish fame. Ain’t it tho?
Nikki and Lola
More of the sexy Nikki from Love is a Fetish.
Fun Fetish Nikki and Lo
More of Nikki
Nikki Nude
We also have been big fans of Floss (as in Floss Does Life)! And she has shown us some lovin’ too!
Floss of FlossDoesLife
and Match, Cinder & Spark
Floss enjoys her reading.
Floss lets it all hang out.
Floss and Lola illustrated
MORE of Floss:
Beautiful Floss
From Floss’ Review
While this lovely hotwife is out having fun with a bull, her hubby is getting of to Lo.
Karla takes a selfie
Karla, the day she became a hotwife.
Karla and Chris
10 Years of Carla
Karla and her Bull
Evolution of Karla
Meanwhile, Chris, her hubby, printed out Lola’s photos to enjoy.
Chris Cums on Lo’s Pics
The real you is sexy!
That photo above is from an ad campaign, we just replaced the models with pics of Lola. However, the sentiment is the same – you, all of you, in your different shapes and sizes, are sexy as you are! Nothing is more sexy than feeling yourself to be sexy.
This couple have been enthusiastic fans of ours for a long time, though they don’t have their own blog. He is a professor. She is thinking about getting into the OnlyFans biz. Sam & Alia.
Sam and Alia read Match, Cinder & Spark together.
Our favorite fans are fans who get off to us together.
Alia seems more interested in the book than her hubby’s pud.
One thing leads to another.
But sometimes Sam has to take matters into his own hands.
Alia
Alia & Sam
And then there’s a beautiful blogger who has been creating poetry with the speed and power of lightning. The Lustful Empress.
Collage of TLE getting off to Lola
Isn’t she just beautifully lustful?
We hope you’ve enjoyed this little tour of some of our friends in the bloggosphere. If you would like a free copy of one of our books in exchange for a sexy photo of you with it and some free publicity from us, just ask.
Of course, back when travel was a thing we did, when HH was apart from Lola, he would send her cumtributes as a token of his love & lust.
Portrait of the author as a horny man.
Stay sexy y’all!
Separately Together
Lola Beating Batter
“Whatcha doin’?” I asked as I saw her whisking some batter in a bowl wearing just one of my t-shirts.
“Making whole wheat banana muffins. Will you try one?”
“Darling, I’ll eat your muff any day.”
“Well, this is the only muff you’re going to get today because my donut hole is oozing jelly, if you know what I mean.”
“You’re confusing food metaphors.”
“Well, there should be no confusion. If you don’t want our bed to look like something out of C.S.I., then I suggest you be content with just my banana muffin.”
“But you look so very edible in my shirt.”
“You can look, but no touch.”
“What about my banana?”
“Oh, is that what you have in your pants? You looked a little large to me.”
“This is all natural,” I said, pulling the elastic waistband forward for her to see.
“Keep it in your pants,” she said, still looking at it longingly.
“But Darling.”
“No buts,”
“Just your butt, how’s that? The perfect compromise.”
“Compromise? Seems more like first prize for you.”
“That it is.”
“We’ll see,” she said.
“And then I’ll give you some of my batter.”
Later that night, we both got in bed and I asked, “So?”
“So what?”
“Do I get my prize?”
“No, dear, not tonight.”
I was a little disappointed, but I knew better than to press the issue. She usually reserves her ass for other men, especially to make me jealous.
“Can I ask a favor?”
“What’s that?”
“Will you hold Stoya for me?”
“Sure.”
I got up and took my Stoya Destroya Fleshlight out of the closet. “Do you wish to lube her up, or shall I?”
“I will,” she said. “Just stand there.”
“Why?”
“I like to see how my fingering her makes you hard.”
“OK.”
Stoya Destroya Fleshlight
She circled Stoya’s pussy lips like she was pleasuring her before dipping deep in her silicon cunt.
“You like that, Daddy?”
“I like that it looks like you like it.”
“I only wish she was here for me.”
“I bet you do.”
“You ready to fuck her?”
HH
“I am.”
She held Stoya’s pussy between her legs and said, “Go for it.”
I was positioned over Lo and Stoya. Lo was in the Missionary position holding Stoya steady for me. I slid right in. I was fucking her for maybe ten seconds before Lo said, “Daddy.”
“Yes?”
“Try it this way.” Lo turned onto her tum and placed Stoya between her inner thighs so I could go at her from behind. I was sliding in and out as Lo read a magazine, dismissive of my masturbatory movements.
“Lo,” I said, interrupting her focus.
“Yeah?”
“Whatcha reading about?”
“Nothing. It’s boring,” she said. Then she pulled out her phone. I could see she was looking at a naked couple.
“Who’s that?” I asked. I didn’t have my glasses on as I looked over her shoulder.
“Just a couple. They sent me a photo of them getting off together while reading Match, Cinder & Spark.”
Mike & Alia
She scrolled through a bunch of photos.
“Are all of those them?”
Mike Getting Off to Lo
“Yeah. They really like it.”
“What about you?”
“I love it.”
“The book or that they’re getting off to it?”
“Both silly.”
“Good,” I said, as I continued fucking Stoya.
“Daddy,” asked Lo, “can you move to my side?”
“Why’s that?”
“I want to use my Hitachi.”
“OK.”
I got on her left side. With her left hand she absentmindedly held the contraption steady. With her right hand she pressed the giant vibrator on her clit, clearly focused on that action.
I went at it. She went at it. Each of us separately together.
I looked at her naked body as I made my moves on Stoya. I observed Lo’s closed eyes, her heaving breasts, her tum tightening and relaxing as her right hand pressed and released the vibrating bulb on her clit. I wondered what scenes were playing out on the inside of her eyelids. Was she thinking of a man she saw today? A woman? A lover from her past? Someone she is yet to conquer? Was there a chance she was thinking of me? Unlikely. I was right next to her, physically, but she was somewhere else mentally. She was enjoying the scene. Maybe she was picturing the couple who sent the photos. I could see her body tensing up. Her shoulders grew concave as her right hand pressed harder. Her breasts heaved and became flush. Her brow furrowed with the intensity. Her knees buckled and her hips rose. Everything was teetering on tipping and spilling over. The moment was taut with anticipation and anxiety. There was always the slightest chance she wouldn’t pull it off; that the big O would slip from her grasp. It seemed so palpably near, but far from certain. It felt like there were many spirits in the room cheering her on to succeed as if she were running the last few yards of a marathon, the tightly stretched ribbon just aching to be snapped by the victor.
And then, there it was, her great reward for her efforts. Her entire body heaved and went into spasms as wave after wave of pleasure rippled over her flesh. She cursed and groaned, grunted and sighed while remarkably still holding the Fleshlight with her left hand.
Her pleasure was enough to put me over the edge. I came, filling Stoya with my cum.
We put the sex toys away and fell asleep satisfied with the job our prosthetic lovers did for us.
Mike & Alia