Category Archives: date

Compersion Perversion

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

Lo Casually Masturbating

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

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

But this email was different.

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

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

“Nope.”

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

“I’m in the park.”

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

“OK.” I wrote back.

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

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

“Guess who I’m with.”

“Bill Murray.”

“No silly!  Meri!!!”

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

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

“Which park?” I asked.

“Guess.”

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

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

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

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

How could I resist?

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

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

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

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

Lo’s Thong Askew

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HH – Hot & Hard

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

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

“Mr. H?!” she shot back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was eager to catch up with Lola.

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

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

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

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

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

“Lo,” I said in a gentle tone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stoya Licking her own Pussy

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who?”

Then the doorbell rang.

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

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

Lola: “Fuck me.”

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

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

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

Lola: “Fill me.”

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

Then the first returned to the pole position.

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

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

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

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

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

“Mushrooms and onions,” I said unthinkingly.

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

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

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

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

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

Lo Placing an Order for Pizza

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

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

I nodded.

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

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

“You going to cum?” Lo asked.

He grunted.

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

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

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

“Thanks Lo,” he said.

“Say hi to your mom,” Lo said.

“Enjoy your dinner,” he replied.

They let themselves out.

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

“Maybe you should.”

She contemplated that idea.  “Like I am?”

“Exactly.”

Lola Filled, but not full

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

I awaited her return in the dining room.

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

She laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“It was a woman.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“What was her reaction?”

“A cross between shock and disgust.”

“Too bad.”

“Why?”

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

“I’ll take disgust.”

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

“Sorry for what?”

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

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

“I will,” she said, obediently.

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

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

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

“Care to enlighten me?”

“I like to be used.”

“You didn’t even cum.”

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

“With me or without me?”

“If you’re lucky, both.”

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

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

“Just like you,” I said sarcastically.

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

“Oh, him?”

“Yeah, him.”

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

“You sure gave it to him.”

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

“Yes, I saw.  What did he give you?”

“His business card.”

“What sort of business is he in?”

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

“Really?  Where’s his card?”

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

She gave it to me.

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

“I don’t know.  Do you want me to?”

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

“What do you think?”

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

“Eating pizza?”

 

Opening Up

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Lo, falling out of her blue dress

 

 

 

 

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

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

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

I knew from her tone, she wanted something.

“Yes?”

“Daddy, it’s Friday.”

“I am aware.”

“And it’s beautiful outside.”

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

“We haven’t had a date in forever.”

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

“Can we go out?” she asked.

“For a walk?”

“No, I mean like out out.”

“To a restaurant?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

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

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

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

“Dressed up?  Out?  Where?”

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

“Spandex is your best color.”

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

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

Lo getting out of her yoga pants

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How to do what?”

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

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

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

I hopped in the car.  “Hello.”

She was running her tongue over her lips.

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

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

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

“I have an admirer.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Well don’t let me stop you.”

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

“OK Love, where to?” I asked.

“Somewhere with outside seating.”

“That’s all that’s open right now.”

“And good food.”

“Of course.  And expensive.”

“Why must it be expensive?”

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

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

“Guaranteed you’ll improve the atmosphere.”

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?”

“It wasn’t planned!”

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

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

No response.

“It’s intimate and romantic.”

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

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

“Well he should!”

We drove home and she sulked in the passenger seat.

“What will cheer you up?” I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders.

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

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

“What?” I asked, nervous.

“I’ve got an idea.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I said.

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

“What?”

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

“Will it make you happy?”

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

“You think that about everything.”

“Well, it’s true about most things.”

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

“I thought you were giving me a haircut.”

“I am.  Get naked.”

“I don’t get naked for my barber.”

“You’re going to get naked for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good.”

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, I got carried away.”

“Leave my tits alone until I’m done.”

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

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

“Yes, yes I do.”

“Fine.  Now stay still.”

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

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

Lo, A Little Side-Boob

“No!  Never mind.”

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

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

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

“Luige never did this either,” I said.

“I should hope not.”

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

“Yes,” I said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Greedy, aren’t you?”

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

Lo takes the tip

“The Good Place”

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[We interrupt the mini-series, “Mount Bliss,” to bring you this timely tale of Lo’s date from Easter last year. We hope you enjoy it and hope that you have also been enjoying the mini-series. We will do our best to continue with the last few installments of the series this week. Happy Easter to everyone! We hope you are all safe, healthy, happy, sexy, and enjoying all of our content!”

“The Good Place”

It was Easter Sunday morning and we could both sleep late, finally.  But I awoke to Lo screaming, “Fuck!  God!  Fuck!  Fuck!  FUCK!!!” and a buzzing sound.  I felt the sprinkle of her holy water on my foot and then she turned to me and said, “Oh, morning!  Best alarm clock ever, right?” as she shut off her Hitachi Magic Wand and pulled it out from under the blankets.  She jumped out of bed, bare-ass, and said, “You have to get up now, Daddy, because I have to strip.”

“You’re already naked.”

“I have to strip the bed.  Get up.”

Reluctantly I got out from under the blankets as she peeled them off the bed to reveal the puddle she had made.  She removed the sheets and tossed them in the laundry basket.
“A happy Easter to you too,” I said sarcastically.  “Was that you reciting the Rosary?”

“No, but I can get my beads, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“What beads?”

“My anal beads, of course.”

“You are a sacrilegious sex-addict!”

“You are a silver-tonged poet!”

“Now that we have stroked each other’s egos, what else would you like to stroke?”

As she was taking out the fresh sheets, she picked up her Hitachi and said, “Now I know why they call it a Magic Wand!  Because it does the trick every time!”

Meanwhile, I was standing naked, my cock saluting her sexy body as she moved and jiggled making the bed.

Once the corners were all tucked and the bed turned down, I jumped in.

“Hey!” she said, “I just made that!”

“Yeah, well it was made just for me.”

“No, it was made for me. . . to get laid.”

“I don’t object to that.”

“Later,” she said, to my great disappointment.

“What do you have to do now?”

“I have a date.”

“What?!”

“A date, with a girl.”

“What?!” I said again.

“Yeah, I took out another ad,” she said, nonchalantly, as she tossed her phone on the bed for me to see.

Lola’s Ad featuring Lola Getting Off to her 18″ dildo

Adventurous, sexy, intelligent, fun female seeks the same for good time out on the town and in the bedroom.  I like to dominate and, occasionally, be dominated.  I’m experienced and in an open relationship, but he will not be part of this.  Trysexual – I’ll try anything!   D&D Free. You be too.  NO GUYS!  Must have voice confirmation.  Send e-mail with info about you and pics.  Need not be explicit, but must show face.

 

“When did you do this?” I inquired.

“A while ago,” she said in her Scarlett O’Hara voice as she put on her pink thong panties.  “And my date is today.”

“Can I come along?” I asked.  It was more like pleading.

“No!  Didn’t you read the ad?”

“Yes, but. . .”

“No buts.”

“But your butt.  It’s such a nice butt.  And it’s such a nice day.  Where are you going?”

“We’re meeting for coffee at the café around the corner.”

“I’ll just sit by you.”
“No, you’ll make me self-conscious.”

“Please.”

I must have been very pathetic because she finally gave in.

“Fine, but you have to wait at least ten minutes before you leave, and don’t sit anywhere near me.”

“OK.  I’ll just sit where I can see you.”

She put on her cutest pink skirt and white t-shirt top, little baby blue pumps, and grabbed a designer handbag.

“How do I look?”

“You’re missing something.”

“What?”

“A pink Easter bonnet.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.  Remember, ten minutes!”

“Yes, I know.  I still have to get dressed anyhow.”

She was out the door and I rifled through my drawers to find something inconspicuous to wear.  I put on the first things I found and dashed outside. I could see Lo’s little caboose sashaying down the street about fifty yards ahead of me.  It was a beautiful sight along with the pink blossoms on the trees and the budding tulips.

I slowed down as Lo found her date and introduced herself, sitting down next to her at a little table on the sidewalk.  Either her date got there early or Lo was late.  In either case, Lo’s date was a very cute redhead with freckles.  Lo had her back to my approach.

I was hoping to get a seat in the restaurant where I could safely spy on the two of them from behind the plate-glass window.  But the hostess seated me outside, just diagonally from them both.  Not only could I see everything, I could hear them too!  At first Lo didn’t see me, thank goodness, because she would have been very cross at me.

They ordered breakfast and mimosas.  I did too.

Lo’s date was not at all what I had expected.  Usually the people who reply to these personal ads are men and women (or couples) roughly about Lo’s age – early to mid-twenties.  But maybe due to the aging of the technology and its becoming obsolete by newer apps, like Tinder and Bumble, it’s an older crowd that is cruising the virtual personals.  (By the way, Lo doesn’t use those more popular apps because she’s afraid of being recognized by her colleagues, or worse, students!)  This woman was in her mid-thirties, at least.  Maybe forty, but it’s hard to say.  Long strawberry-blonde hair, thin, wearing denim shorts, high wedges with straps, and a loose-fitting black blouse.  She rocked the outfit, but I was surprised to see a woman who looked like she could be a mom.

The seats outside filled up and it got a little louder.  I found it difficult to hear them, but I caught snippets of their conversation.  The mystery woman (I didn’t know her name yet) was asking about Lo’s “half-open relationship.”  I heard Lo reply, “I’m not homosexual or heterosexual, bi-sexual, or even metro-sexual.  I’m very sexual.”  I’m sure she followed that with a pass of her tongue over her pearly white teeth.

The woman continued along the same lines, inquiring about Lo’s promiscuity (in a polite way) and Lo said, “I don’t call it slutty.  I call it getting my needs met.”

I could see that Lo’s date liked this sort of talk.  Lo can be very direct.  The date reciprocated.  I heard her say, “Your pussy and panties must smell so good!”

To which Lo replied, “Like roses and cotton candy.”

When they had finished their meals and were drinking coffee, the waitress brought them each a complimentary Cadbury egg for dessert.  Lo was elated.  She unwrapped it and then slowly bit into the chocolate and then said, “Mmmmm, I love to lick out the cream!”

“Me too,” said her friend.  “How about we go back to your place?”

“I’m wide open to that idea,” said Lo, and I could see her uncross her legs and remove her foot from her shoe to rub her friend’s calf.  “But,” she added, “my man is there right now.”

I wanted to leap up from my seat and say, “No, no!  I’m not.  I’m right here!  Go right ahead.”  But I had to keep silent.

Her friend looked very disappointed.  Lo hates to disappoint.  “I’ll tell you what,” she said, “maybe I can text him and tell him to leave us alone for a couple of hours.”

Her friend perked up at that idea.  Lo took out her phone and soon I got a text saying, “Is it ok, Daddy?”  Thank goodness my phone was on silent, because the sound of it going off with a text message may have looked suspicious.

I texted back, “Is what ok?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.  I know you’re sitting right there.  Is it ok for me to take Meri to our place for a while?”

“If that pleases you,” I texted back.

Lo smiled at her friend.  They paid the bill and soon were off to fuck, leaving me with nothing to do on Easter morning.  I didn’t even bring a book!

About two hours later and about eight miles of strolling through our sunny city streets, I finally got a text from Lo.  It said, “Exhausted!  Come home.”

I hightailed it back to our place only to find Lo in the messed bed, naked again.

“Come here,” she said.

“Still love me?” I asked first.

She pulled down the covers and spread her legs as far apart as they would go and said, “Daddy, I love you THIS much!”

“Will you tell me each and every detail?”

“You know I will.  I have a pornographic memory.”

I got naked and lay on top of her and plunged my rod deep in her hole.

She said, “Uh uh.  No.  In my ass.  My cunt is worn out.”

I flipped her over on her tum and slid right in.

“You’re so slick,” I said.

“I’m a well-oiled machine,” she replied.

“Now tell me,” I insisted.

“Believe it or not, Meri is a mother of three and the oldest is eighteen!”

“I can’t believe it,” I said, both about what Lo had said and how good her rear entrance felt.  “You fucked a mom?!”

“More like she fucked me.  She’s been married twenty-two years and has never before been with a woman.”

“Really?”

“She got permission from her husband to find someone to show her the ropes.”

“There were ropes involved?”

“Shut up and keep fucking my ass.”

I am good at taking instructions like that.

“We got here and she couldn’t wait to get out of her clothes and hop into bed.  No small talk, no foreplay, nothing.  So I asked her, ‘What do you want?  To do me or me to do you?’  She said she wanted to do me.  She wanted to fuck me good and hard.  She has quite the domineering streak about her.  So I pulled out my dildo and placed it in her hands.  She was amazed at the size of it.  I told her not to be shy.  I slipped out of my panties and pulled my skirt over my waist and lay on the bed with my legs spread.  She began by fingering me.  She asked if it was ok first, which I thought was nice.  I said, ‘Just fuck me like your little whore.’  That got her going.  She used the dildo on my puss, ramming it fast and hard, hitting my spot.  She never saw a woman squirt before in real life and she was thrilled that she was able to do that for me!  Little did she know that I squirt just about every time.”

Our next book will be called “Slut Life” about Lola’s adventures by the ocean

“Are you squirting now?” I interrupted to ask, since I felt her juices dripping down my thigh.

“Not yet, Daddy.  I’m just soaked.”

I increased my speed and depth.

“That’s it,” she said.  “Like she did with the dildo in my cunt.”

She pulled up a photo of Meri from her phone to look at it.  “She has great tits,” Lo said as she began squirting on me with force, soaking the bed.  She suddenly fell forward, lying flat on her tum in the puddle she made, convulsing like a fish out of water.  There was no way I could stay in her.  I grabbed my drenched, hard baton and lay on my back next to her.

“Are you ok?” I asked.

I saw her eyes roll to the back of her head.  She was temporarily blitzed out.

When she came to, she said, “What an amazing day!”

“Full of Easter Eggs,” I said, jokingly.

She played with my hard cock with her right hand, seeing how it bounced back into its rigid upright position when she would bend it down.

“Christ has risen.  Christ will cum again,” she said, stroking my member from the base to the tip.

“Good for Christ, but I haven’t cum once!”

She pivoted on her tum so her mouth was over my cock and she put out her tongue as if to receive Holy Communion.  “May I have your flesh?” she asked.

She took my cock in her mouth and slid up and down the shaft.  She went all the way down to my balls and took them in her warm, wet mouth.  It felt good, but I needed sweet release.  She returned to the tip and looked up at me.

Momentarily, she pulled up off my cock in order to say, “I wanted to go down on her.  I wanted to return the fuck for her.  But she didn’t let me.  She just fucked me fast and furious and filled my cunt with all sixteen inches of my dildo.  I didn’t get to give her any pleasure at all, other than the pleasure of pounding me like a boss.”

Lo went back down on my dick looking up at me again.  “Am I a good girl, Daddy?” she asked, looking for approval.

“Did Meri think you were a good girl?”

“I don’t know,” she said as her fingers fondled me between my legs, lightly.  “I came by the bucket load, and then she said she had to get going.  She had plans with her family for Easter, she said.  She got dressed and simply blew me a kiss as she let herself out.  I was too weak to even get up.  I used my skirt to soak up what I could and texted you.”

“You’re a very good girl,” I said.

I was lying on my back and she got up, straddled me with her knees beside my hips, and she grabbed her ass cheeks with each hand, spread them, and slowly let herself down on my erect cock, guiding it directly into her anus, slowly.  I’m not nearly as long as her dildo, but she slid down on me until she was sitting on my pelvis.  She pulled her feet in between my legs and sat there, her back to me, and she rocked gently back and forth to feel me deep inside her.  I could feel the tip of my member penetrating as far up as possible.  She spread her legs and began fingering her clit.  She grabbed her red dildo, the one that Meri had used on her, and slipped it up and in her pussy.  I could feel it enter her.  She was filled and tight and moaning a tune of pleasure.  I lay on my back enjoying her ride.  She called over her shoulder to me, “Cum in me.  Cum.  Cum and fill me up.  I want to feel your hot. . .”

She didn’t finish her command before I obediently complied.  I pulsed with strong spurts of spunk into her hole.  She tightened her grip on me even further and I felt as if she wouldn’t let go.  I didn’t mind.  I liked being there, deep inside her.

I felt her slide the dildo out from her front hole as she squirted down onto her ankles.  And then, after a long sigh of relief, she slowly lifted her bum up off of me.  I slid out of her as she eased her way up, with both hands grabbing her ass again, and she let all of my cream filling slowly leak out onto my flaccid cock.

Her whole body crumbled as if, deprived of my rigidity, it had no strength to remain upright.  She lay next to me on the bed.  She curled into her little spoon as I cuddled her as her big spoon.  She fell off to sleep in the midst of all the mess she and I had made together, not to mention the mess Meri had made of her.  It was only a cat nap.  When she awoke, I whispered in her ear, asking her, “Would you like to watch an episode of “The Good Place?”

“Mmmmmm,” she said, moving her right hand behind her, reaching down to my cock and then inserting a finger in her soaked ass, and she said, “This is the good place.”

Naughty Schoolgirl & Her Daddy

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Happy Valentine’s Day!

It was the week before Valentine’s Day.  Lo and I had planned a mini-vacation weekend to ski country.  I had booked us a special room at a resort hotel that included a wood-burning fireplace, a kitchenette, and, at the central fitness area, there was an indoor/outdoor heated pool, an indoor hot tub and a second outdoor hot tub.  We were right on the mountain – ski off/ski in.

We arrived at night and since Lo had been diddling herself and telling me sordid stories from her past the whole drive there, she immediately got naked as I unpacked and brought in the groceries we had bought for the weekend.

She lay on the bed, legs spread, saying, “Daddy, don’t you want this?” as she slapped her pussy lips with her right hand.

I glanced at Lo’s untrimmed triangle and said, “Lo, that bush is so hot it’s on fire!”

“The burning bush, Daddio, the symbol of God on earth.”

“You said it!  Just give me a minute to get this fire going and I’ll tend to yours.”

I stoked the fireplace and got it roaring and casting flickering yellow light in a few moments.  Then I began to remove my shirt.

“Slowly, Daddy,” said Lo, “I want to enjoy this.”

I took off my clothes very slowly for Lo’s entertainment and then climbed into bed with her.  The heat in the room was already pretty warm when we got there and before long she and I were creating quite a sweat.  It was like a Bikram yoga studio in there.  Mid-coitus we both had to stop and open up the sliding glass door that led out onto the mountain.  I swear I could see the snow melting as the warm air escaped our room!

Lo got up and went into the shower.  I heard the water streaming, the steam flowing out of the bathroom into the hot living room where I sat reading a book, and out the door into the cool mountain air, illuminated by the full moon in the clear night sky.  After almost an hour, I heard her shrieks of ecstasy as she came multiple times.

She finally walked out of the bathroom, naked, revealing that her previously shag-like pubic area was now silky smooth.  “I’m ready for you now,” she said.

“Good water pressure?” I asked.

“So good.”

“Bend over,” I commanded.  She bent over the couch of the living room and I saw her ass, illuminated by the dancing flames from the fireplace.  Cool air rushing in, hot air rushing out, Lo’s wet body in front of me, the fire behind me – it was as if we were in the womb of the earth with the primordial elements swirling about us, performing the holy act of creation.

I spread the two half-moons of her ass and applied my tongue to the central pleasure point.  She let out a moan.  I got on my knees and licked from back to front and back again as she spread her legs in the widest upside-down “V” that she could.  Now it was like a Tantra yoga session.

I turned around, sat on the floor with my back up against the front of the couch and Lola slid her inner thigh up and down over my extended tongue.  She came and she squirted right on me as I sat under her!  I lapped it up as best I could.

“Fuck me, Daddy!” she demanded as she now turned, bent over the coffee table and I got behind her.  Within mere seconds she was convulsing again.  When Lo gets this excited, she involuntarily contracts the walls of her vagina and, despite my best efforts, squeezes me right out.  It happened like that as she fell to her knees and ejaculated on the carpet.

“I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!” she called out as it was happening.

“Don’t be,” I said, watching her with bemusement.

I grabbed some paper towels from the kitchenette and cleaned up after her.

“I’m so sorry.  I’m so embarrassed.  I feel like a puppy that needs to be housebroken.”

I laughed.

The next day we skied for a good few hours.  We called it quits around three and then made plans for dinner.

We weren’t too far from a descent sized college town and Lo, foodie that she is, had already scoped out the best eats for a romantic dinner.  She picked out my clothes for me saying, “This is a classy place.  You can’t just go there in jeans, you know.”  She followed it up with, “I wish you’d let me go shopping for you.  All your clothes make you look like a stuffy old professor.  Tweed?  Really?  Tweed?”  She was referencing my dinner jacket.  Nonetheless, she got me as presentable as humanly possible.

She, herself, was dressed to the nines.  She loves any occasion to get dolled up.  She wore a tight-fitting red dress that came down just past her knees and highlighted her curves.  She wore strappy, flesh colored heels and to me she looked fabulous.  The painful paradox about her amazing good looks and impeccable fashion taste is that as soon as she gets dressed up like that, I want to immediately rip off all her clothes and have her naked.  The happiest solution to that paradox is to slip up her dress and do her from behind as she stands bent over the bed in her heels.  But that was not to be on this occasion.  She was too well put together for me to mess it all up with a wild romp before dinner.

When we got on the road it was still light out and I had recently got my hair cut shorter than usual.  Lo looked over at me from the passenger seat and ran her hand through my hair and said, “Every time you get a haircut it brings out more grey.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, I mean it in a good way,” she said.  “You look hot with all that salt and pepper.”

“You sure you don’t just mean I look old?”

“Old and hot,” she said and then she leaned back, spread her legs, and grabbed my hand and placed it on her smooth knee.  “Touch me.”

I caressed her knee.

“Keep going,” she instructed, meaning, keep working my way up her inner thigh.  She pulled her dress up, spread her legs further apart, putting a foot up on the dash, “You know the drill.”  I leaned over a bit in order to put my hand on her crotch and stroke.  Just as I did so, we almost got hit by an oncoming car swerving into our lane.  “Hey!  Two hands on the wheel!” Lo called out, clamping her legs together.

“But he. . .”

“And drive the speed limit.”

“Sweetheart, that says Route 5, not 5 miles per hour.”

“Oh.”

We avoided dying a gruesome death on the highway and pulled into a quaint little college town nestled in the foothills of the mountains.

“Wow,” said Lo, “Look at that sign.  It’s so retro.”

She was talking about a big sign over a diner that looked vintage 1950’s.

“I don’t think it’s retro, I think it’s just old,” I replied.

“No, it’s a classic.”

“Like me?  Am I a classic?”

“No.  You’re an antique.”

Soon we were at our destination.  It was in one of the tallest buildings in town, a five story hotel.  The restaurant was on the top floor.  Lo and I walked into the lobby and got an elevator all to ourselves.  Once the doors closed, she leaned up against me, kissing me and reaching for my crotch.

“Hey,” I protested, “there’s a camera in here, you know.”

“Even better,” she said as she pushed her breasts up in the tight dress for me to kiss.

The doors opened into a crowded bar that led to the restaurant.

Apparently, this was the only fine food in town since almost every table was full.  Luckily Lo had called ahead of time to make reservations and we were seated next to an older couple (yes, even older than I by about twenty years) and because the tables for two were spaced in close proximity to each other, Lo and I politely said hello and smiled.  The older couple was very gregarious and immediately started up a conversation with us.  Lo and I quickly realized that they were under the impression that I was Lo’s father and I was visiting her here at her college.  We did nothing to disabuse them of that notion and we played along with a secret maliciousness shared between us that excited us both.  All through the conversation, Lo’s sexy foot was rubbing my leg up and down under the table.

The words that Lo usually saves for private, intimate moments were spoken freely and publicly, such as, “Thank you, Daddy, for coming. . . to visit me.”

“It’s my pleasure, little girl,” I responded, “I love coming. . . to visit.  And I love it when you come. . . home to visit me too.  I want you to come. . . more often.”

“Oh, Daddy, I promise to come as much as I can.”

This sort of silly banter gave us a perverse pleasure and I could see the desire in Lo’s eyes increasing as she played the role of naughty schoolgirl.

She was so eager to get back to the suite, that we skipped dessert.  The older couple was having their (decaf) coffee after their meal when we got up to leave.  We wished them a good night and they wished me a good visit.  I politely helped Lo into her jacket, and then, as we walked out of the restaurant, I put my hand on her ass in a very possessive manner.  We walked to the elevator, and in there she wrapped her body around mine and kissed me passionately.  The doors opened to the lobby and I had to tap her to indicate that we were a spectacle to be seen by anyone in the lobby.  She pulled herself off of me and straightened out her dress before walking into the lobby.  I followed her and, to my surprise, she pulled me down a hall off to the right of the lobby.

“What?  Where are you going?” I asked.

“Just shut up and follow me.”

Neither of us had ever been in this hotel before and so I wasn’t sure what she was doing.  She opened up a door that led into a large linen closet filled with folded sheets and towels.  She shut the door behind us and turned on the lights.

“Daddy, I can’t wait until we get home,” she said as her right hand unzipped my fly and reached in to fondle my cock and her left hand hiked up her dress, reached up and under it, and began rubbing her clit over her panties.

“Lo!” I protested.

“Shhhh!” she commanded.

“Lo, what if someone walks in here?”

“The maids only use this to make the beds in the morning.  Don’t worry.  We’re safe here for now.  If you’d be quiet, this will only take a few seconds.”

She was pulling on my cock and rubbing her clit vigorously.  She looked at my erection and I could see by the weakness of her knees that she really only had seconds to go before. . .

“Oh, oh, OH!” she called, biting her lip, trying to contain the volume of her orgasm.  She let go of my member and fell back into the shelves on the wall.  She leaned up against it for support as her fingers continued to rub out the orgasm to completion.  I saw the panties transform from light pink to almost red as her ejaculate oozed through the material.  Luckily she had enough towels for an army to soak up the wetness running down her inner thigh.  When she was done pleasuring herself and drying off, she removed her soaked panties and wrapped them in a dry, white towel, putting them in her purse.  She through the dirty towels on the floor so no one would mistake them for the clean ones and she straightened her dress, pulling it down by the hem, and asked, “Do I look ok?”

“You look great,” I said, trying to put my erection back into my pants with difficulty.

“Really?”

“Yeah.  Just a little flush in the face.”

I got my manhood to stand straight, but inside my boxers, and I zipped up my fly, tucked in my shirt and said, “I’m going to need a minute.”

Lo looked longingly at my crotch and said, “Oh yeah.”

Lo leaned in to kiss me full of passion.

“Lo,” I said, pulling back, “you’re not helping the situation.”

She and I stood awkwardly in the closet waiting for the emblem of my desire to subside.

A mere five or six minutes after we entered the linen closet, we walked out of it, apparently unnoticed.

We got into the car and she laughed at our mischievousness.  Before we had even driven out of the parking lot, she had my fly undone, my cock out, and her face in my lap.

We got back to our little suite and, as she slipped out of the tight dress, I got the fire roaring and soon we were at it with her calling to me, “Daddy, fuck me!  Fuck me, Daddy!”  It took mere seconds before she was cumming again.

A Sexy Sample

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Lo and her Date

We want to send a big shout out and many kisses to Girl on the Net for posting a sexy sample of our newly available audio book of “Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume I: Nymphomania and the Single Girl.”  The original hard copy is quite expensive, but worth it. The ebook is very affordable. But this audio book is a totally new immersive experience, thanks to the fabulous talent of Ms. Jupiter Grant of Jupiter’s Lair, the narrator!

Go give it a free listen today and, if you love it, which you will, order your own copy.

Sample from “Lo Goes Down”

Romancing the Stone

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Lo’s Blue Dress

I was asleep when she walked in the dark bedroom.  Nights like this, when she spends the night out with friends or lovers, it isn’t quite sleep.  It’s more of a restful repose, just barely below the surface of consciousness.  When I heard the bedroom door open, I was instantly awake, but I didn’t dare open my eyes or stir.  I like to spy on her from the darkness.  With one eye open, I saw her remove her blue dress.  She wasn’t wearing a bra.  She had been wearing a bra when she left the house.  She wasn’t wearing panties when she left, so it was no surprise that she wasn’t wearing panties now.  She slipped out of her heels and walked barefoot and bare assed into the bathroom.  She turned the light on.  She sat, peed, got up, brushed her teeth, and then slid under the covers next to me.

“I know you’re awake,” she whispered.

“Now I am,” I said.

“And I know you’ve been a bad boy,” she said, reaching down to my crotch and grabbing my hard cock.

“Look at you – kitten calling the cock back.”

She chuckled and said, “The expression is the kettle calling the pot black.”

“You know what I mean.”

“You left your vagina in the bathroom,” she said, disapprovingly, speaking of my Stoya Fleshlight.

“It needs to air dry.  That’s what it says in the instructions.”

“So you used it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Unlike Stoya, I don’t air dry.  I’m always wet.  Very wet.”

Stoya, Stoya’s Fleshlight, Art of Lola Down

“And full of Robert’s cum?”

“Get in me and find out.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” I said.

I climbed on top of her and spread her legs.  I slid in and sloshed about.  She moaned.

“Tell me,” I whispered in her ear.

“Am I wet?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Loose?”

“Very.”

She likes to hear how slippery and slutty she feels to me.

“Good,” she cooed in my ear.

“Tell me, what happened.”  I was eager.

“You first,” she said.

“What?  Why?”

“Because, if I tell you, you’ll cum and I want to hear about your night before you cum.”

She had a point.  Well, she had two points if you include what I was giving her below the sheets.

“Well, I began by looking at the blog of TJ like you suggested.”

“Yes.”

“She’s so like you, it’s uncanny.”

“I know.”

“But that just made me want you.”

“Good.”

“And as I was thinking about you with Robert, I took out the Stoya Fleshlight and went through your photos.  I looked at all the cumtributes you get from guys.  I looked at the pics you sent to Robert and others.  And then I came.  I came hard.”

“You came already tonight?!”

I thought she was mad.  Meekly, I said, “Yes.”

She came instantly.

When she recovered I asked her, “Are you mad?”

“No.  I’m just shocked that you’re hard again.”

“For you, Lo.”

“Are you sure you didn’t cum to TJ?”

TJ cumming to Lo

 

“Yes.  Very.”

“Good,” she said.

“Your turn,” I reminded her.

“Well, Daddy,” she began, knowing how to butter me up, “we met for drinks.  He thought I looked great.  I know I looked great because Robert wasn’t the only one staring at me.”

Just the thought of her walking into the bar was enough to put me over the edge.  I had to slow down while she continued talking.

“We had a couple of drinks,” she said in her soft voice directly into my ear, “and then went to the theater.  It had the big, leather, recliner chairs.  But those aren’t great for romance.  There’s the big, bulky armrest in separating you.  We were sitting in the very last row and I put my seat way back.  When the movie came on, I let the hem of my dress slide up and up and up.”

“Was he touching your knee?”

“He couldn’t reach.  But he could see.  It was an odd movie, but there were a few sexy scenes in it.  And Emma Stone. . .”  She trailed off as she came again.

Catching her breath she said, “Get behind me,” as she pulled out her phone to look at sexy pics of Emma Stone.

I got behind her and glanced over her shoulder at her phone.  “Get back there and fuck me like you fucked Stoya!” she commanded.

I grabbed her hips and pulled her ass back as I thrust forward, deep into her.  I could feel the tip of my cock dipping into her deep well where someone else had already cum and gone.

Emma Stone The Favourite

“I just touched myself during the sex scenes,” she said in between gasps.  “He watched me.  He wanted me.  His right hand held my left and I squeezed hard every time my right hand brought me to an orgasm.”

She came as she recalled her climaxes in the theater.

“At a more boring point in the movie I got on my knees in front of him and pulled out his cock.  I put it in my mouth and went to town on it.”

Luckily for her and for me, I had cum earlier in the night and so was able to weather this blow-by-blow account.

“He didn’t cum, which disappointed me.  You know how I like to feel successful at everything I do.  I think he was nervous we’d get caught.  He lifted me up and tried to place me back in my seat, but I simply lifted up my tight blue dress and eased my ass down on his hard rod.  Sitting on his lap, like a stripper in the club, I slowly slid back-and-forth.  He came deep inside me.  That was just before the movie ended and as we walked out, I could feel his cum oozing down the inside of my legs.”

That was all I could take.  I exploded deep inside her, adding to her collection for the evening.

“That’s it, Daddio,” she said as I reached under her and slid my arms up to her breasts and held her tightly.  “Use me.  Make me yours again.  Fill me up.  Make me your cum-bucket.”  I collapsed on top of her and held her in my arms while imaginings of her night flickered through my rapidly darkening mind.

Autoerotica

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Lo, at it again

            “Come,” I heard her yell from the bedroom down the hall as I walked into the house after a long Friday at work.  She might have been saying “Cum!” to a lover.  There’s never any way to tell from the sound of her voice – only on the page. 

            I cautiously walked down the long hall to the bedroom.  What would I find?

            The door was open a crack.  I peeked in.  She was naked, on her tum, her round rump nicely illuminated by the setting sun.  Her legs were bent at the knees and her bare feet dangled up in the air, twined around each other.  In her hand she held her phone. 

            “Come in, Daddio,” she said without turning her eyes from the screen in front of her. 

            I walked in and removed my jacket and tie. 

            “What you up to?” I inquired.

            “I bet you’d like to know.”

            “That is why I asked,” I said flatly as I removed my shirt and undid my belt. 

            “Get naked, get hard, and get in me,” she commanded.

            “I’m already hard,” I said.

            “As you should be,” she replied, moving her hand to her mouth, licking her fingers and then moving her hand to her ass and circling her wet fingers around her special spot. 

            “Oh,” I commented, “You want it like that?”

            “No, Daddio,” she said, “I’m just enjoying myself.”

            Always coy when it comes to her ass.  Always for someone else, or for her own pleasure, but never for me. 

            I got behind her and tried to look at her phone by leaning forward over her back and seeing over her shoulder. 

            “Get up there and fuck me,” she instructed, her finger still rounding her sweet spot as I slid into her puss.  “I’ll tell you what I’m looking at.”

            I did as she said and she told me that a fellow blogger, a woman named TJ, wrote to us saying, “I love reading your blog.  It gets me so wet.”

            “Really?!  Do I know this TJ?” I asked as I thrusted harder.

            “She writes The Lustful Empress.”

            I slowed down a bit trying to remember which erotic blog that was.

            “Don’t stop!” Lo said as her hand grabbed the girth of my cock and she pushed her ass back into my hips, bouncing off of my bare bodkin. 

            I resumed my powerful, pleasurable, pelvic pounding. 

            “Look,” she said, putting her phone up on her back for me to read the email.  It said:

I love how accepting you are of Lola’s magnificent sexuality. You guys seem to have ‘it’ don’t you? I wish I could masturbate as openly as you do, Lola. I feel self-conscious, like an addict or something. But I fucking love fucking myself. . . it’s the best. I am more autosexual than anything else I think. Keep celebrating each other.

Fan mail like that makes it all worth it.  Well, that’s not completely true.  I know that I would be writing all this whether no one read it, or only one person read it – Lola.  But knowing that others read it, enjoy it, and get off to it is the icing on the cake. 

            Speaking of icing, as I read the email, Lo began to climax as one hand worked her ass and the other, from underneath, worked her clit.  Her Kegel muscles contracted and I was squeezed out of her as she curled into a convulsing, throbbing ball, squirting uncontrollably.  The more she pushed her knees up to her breasts in a tightly bound fetal position, the more she sprayed the bed and my knees.  I lifted up her phone to prevent it from being ruined by the liquid. 

TJ, author and model of The Lustful Empress, getting off to Lo

            “Fuuuu-uuuuck,” she groaned as the last bit of lady juice spurted out of her.

            When she regained control of her limbs, she slowly got up and pulled the soaked sheets with her, dropping them in the laundry basket.  “I’ll clean up, Daddy, but right now I have to get ready.”

            “Ready for what?” I asked, holding my throbbing, hard rod in my hand.

            “My date.”

            “Date?”

            “With Robert.  I told you, didn’t I?”

            I just looked dumbfounded. 

            “We’re going to the movies.”

            “Really?”

            “Yes.”

            “And what are you seeing?”

            “The Favourite.”

            “Is he your favorite now?” I asked, demoralized.

            “No, Daddio, she said, caressing me and looking up at me with those beautiful big brown eyes.  “That’s the name of the movie.  It’s a period piece.”

            “Really?  Not a porno?”

            “Well, I hear it has a lot of woman-on-woman sex scenes.”

            “I knew it!”

            “But that’s not why we’re going to see it.”

            “You’re going to see it to have sex in a crowded theater.”

            “Oh, Daddy, you always impute to me the most debased of motives.”

            “So why are you going to see it?”

            “It’s historical.  It has great sets, acting, and costumes.”

            “And?”

            “And probably to fuck in a dark theater.”

            “Don’t get caught.”

            “But getting caught is at least half the fun.  Does that make you jealous?” she asked, as her hand stroked my hard cock. 

            “So you’re leaving me home alone on a Friday night?”

            “Not totally alone,” she said, “You have TJ.”

            “Who?”

            “TJ, the woman from the blog.”

            “Oh, right,” I said to my consolation prize.

            Lola made the bed and I watched her tits droop as she bent over to tuck in the sheets.  Her naked body moved like a delightful dance as she unfurled the blanket. 

            “Look,” she said, as she hopped back in the bed and took up her phone.  I sat next to her.  Her left hand stroked my hard erection up and down as she scrolled through TJ’s blog with her right hand. 

            We read and looked at the photos together. 

Lola
TJ of The Lustful Empress

            “She sounds like she could be your twin sister,” I said as I read about how TJ becomes aroused by her own naked body. 

            “Hold this,” she said, giving me the phone. 

            Now, with her right hand she was stroking her pussy and I scrolled through the blog. 

            “Oh boy,” I said, “You want her.” 

            Lo bit her lower lip.

            “Lo,” I cautioned, “You just made the bed.  You don’t want to. . .”

            Before I could finish my sentence, she had jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before releasing her ejaculate all over the tile floor with a scream. 

            When she had regained her composure, she got some paper towels and got on her hands and knees to clean up the mess. 

            “What time is your movie?”

            “Eight,” she called back.  “But we’re meeting for drinks first.”

            “Well, you’re going to be late,” I told her. 

            She jumped in the shower and I continued to look at the blog, hard up. 

            “Hey,” she called to me, “you’re not allowed to cum.  You know that, right?”

            “I still don’t understand how that is fair,” I said, taunting her.

            I got up and looked at her in the shower.

            “Get!” she screamed.  She hates when I see her in her shower cap. 

            “How is it fair that you get to cum twice and then go on a date with another man and I’m not allowed any autoerotica myself?”

            “First,” she said from behind the shower curtain, “it’s not autoerotic if you use someone else’s pictures.  Second, you didn’t count the three times I came before you got home.”

            “Lo, now you’re just. . .”

            “And third,” she cut me off, “this has nothing to do with fairness.  It has everything to do with me.  What I want.  What I allow you.  Got that?  Don’t forget it.”

            Lo jumped out of the shower and hastily dried off before slipping into a blue dress and blue heels.  No panties. 

            “You’re going to be cold like that,” I cautioned.

            “I’m planning on things heating up quickly,” she said. 

            Soon enough she was out the door, leaving me alone. 

            I scrolled through TJ’s blog, which I recalled I had seen before, and I thought to myself, “She said no cumming, but she didn’t say no edging.” 

            I spent about an hour going through each and every post before I thought to myself, “If I don’t stop this right now, I’m going to explode!” 

Stoya Left, Lola Right

            In order to take the edge off, I switched to photos of Lo, which are always fair game, and I pulled out the old Stoya Fleshlight.  Lubing up Stoya and myself, I imagined what Lo was up to with Robert.  I didn’t even need to see Lo’s photos.  Soon enough I was cumming and cumming hard and deep in Stoya’s pussy, just thinking about Lo in a dark theater, legs spread, and Robert discretely moving his hand up her smooth thigh until reaching that wet pussy, pulsating with anticipation.  Gently he would rub and flick her pussy lips, clandestinely making her cum.  I pictured her hands gripping the seat and her upper teeth biting down on her bottom lip to prevent the scream from escaping her mouth.  That was enough to bring me over the edge and release me into a deep sleep. 

My Love is a Red Red Rosebud

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“I’m so fat!” she decried as she stood in her bikini looking in the mirror at her reflection.

“You say that like fat is a bad thing,” I said with a smile.

“Shut up.”

“What?  All I’m saying is I like some meat on your bones.  You always tell me how much you like my meat and to bone.”

She threw a pillow at me.  “You’re tapping into my greatest insecurity.”

“Your weakness is your strength,” I replied.

“Your weakness is me.”

“I know.  I know.  Lola, you’re my Kryptonite.  I’m the Man of Steel.  But after being around you I go soft as a Slinky.  But seriously,” I said, “come here.”

She walked to me like a child who had just been caught with her hands in the cookie jar. She stood in front of me.  I grabbed and kissed the small bulge above her bikini line.

“Stop it!  You know I hate that!”

“But I love it.  It’s so sexy.”

“I have to work on my beach body.”

“I’m working on my beach-ball body.”

“We both should exercise.”

“Exercise?!  Are you kidding me?  I just heard about a forty-year-old man who dropped dead – DEAD! – while on the treadmill.  Oh no.  Not for me, thank you.”

“What are you talking about?  He probably had a preexisting condition.  He probably had heart problems or was overweight.”

“That’s proof!  Proof that exercise is bad for you.  Positively lethal!”

“That’s not proof.”

“All I’m saying is that you never hear of a perfectly healthy forty-year-old man dying on his couch while reading a book.”

“Give me a break!” she said, throwing her arms in the air.

Lo and I went down to the pool of the hotel.

It was Valentine’s Day, we were on vacation in a warm-weather city, and Lo was looking like one sweet-tart.

Lo thought that, as usual, I had failed to make any plans for V-Day.  There she was wrong.

After some hours by the pool where she only got jealous of the other bikini babes walking past me, lounging in the reclining chairs, or dangling their feet in the water, we both were hungry and, after changing, I surprised her for the first time that day by actually having a lunch destination suggestion.

“Chinese?!” she questioned, both skeptical and disappointed.

We drove through the grid of the city to the special Chinese restaurant I had scoped out.  This wasn’t just your average Chinese joint; it was a newly opened, chic, “Asian-fusion” place simply called Red that was all the rage.

Luckily, Lo was impressed.

After our meal, Lo’s Fortune Cookie read: “Emotion is energy in motion” and I added “in bed.”

When we got back to the car, a compact, two-seater, Lo laughed as she got in.

“What?” I asked, curious as to what she found so amusing.

“Nothing,” she replied, enigmatically.

“I want to know.”

“I’ll tell you later, when you’re older.”

“Lo, I’m older now.  I’ll always be older.  So, out with it.”

“Where are we going now, Daddio?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Where would you like to go?”

“Oh, I don’t know. . . some dive bar.”

“That should be easy enough,” I said as I got the car started and, put the top down, and pulled out into the busy road by the beach.

No sooner had we gotten stuck in the see-and-be-seen crowd of the resort road, than Lo leaned back with one high-heel shod foot dangling seductively over the edge of the door and the other up on the dash as she flashed me, venting up her skirt in the warm, humid, sea-salty air.

“Lo, you’re doing it again?”

“Doing what, Daddio?”

“Flashing in public.”

“Am I?  But we’re in the privacy of our own vehicle.”

“Lo,” I said, as I gave her a side-long glance, trying to focus on traffic.

“You like, Daddio?” she asked.

That night I surprised even myself by having dinner reservations, chocolate, cupcakes, roses, and a card all lined up.  Good job, HH.  I congratulate you.  When we got to the red rented convertible, I popped the top down and looked in the back seat, saying to Lo, “Oh, look there, someone must have left something in the car before we rented it.”

She looked over the bucket seat and saw, sitting on the leather behind her, the scarlet box of chocolates, the bouquet of roses, a box of pink-frosted cupcakes, and a cardinal colored envelope.

Hopping in, she tore into the card.  It was an e. e. cummings poem and a little note from me.

She read the e.e. cummings poem and looked at me seductively and said, “Soon I’ll be-e cumming too.”

She then opened the cupcakes and slowly sank her mouth over the pink-frosted top, taking a slow, seductive bite.

“Lo!  We’re on our way to dinner,” I jokingly rebuked her.  “You can’t eat dessert before dinner.”

“But Daddy,” she said, looking at me with frosting on her lips.  “you know that I can’t pass up a good cream filling.”

“How did you know it was a cream filling?  You’ve only just had the frosting.”

“I wasn’t talking about the cupcake,” she said as she bit into it again.  She then leaned over the seat and gave me a big, wet, frosted kiss.  “But I know that you know that cream filling is my favorite and so I figured you got me what I wanted.”

Secretly, I delighted in seeing her eat the cupcake.  A certain kink, that is, if she was into it too, which she most definitely was not.

We got to the restaurant and Lo was wearing a cute, short red dress and matching pumps.  She looked adorable.  I could tell that all eyes were on her, just as she likes it.

“Lo,” I said as we sat at our romantic, candle-lit table, “you look better than ever!”

“Oh, go on,” she said, vainly.  I love her vanity.

“Really, they say that men get better looking with age and that may be true.  But you, my dear, look better to me every day we’re together.”

She slipped her right foot out of her sexy shoe under the table and lifted it to rub my leg up and down, showing her appreciation of my sincere, but flattering words.

“Don’t do that,” I said.

“Why not, Daddy?”

“Because I may have to ravish you right here and now, rather than wait until we get back to the hotel and in bed.”

“Sex is not just something that happens in bed.  Sex is a lifestyle.”

“You should write adult fortune cookies.”

She continued to rub my leg up and down, stretching now to touch my crotch.  Her antics were hidden by the long tablecloth draped over the cozy round table, but I have no doubt an onlooker would be able to tell what she was up to.

After our meal, the waiter asked if we’d like dessert.  I looked at Lo.  “I really shouldn’t, I had the cupcake in the car,” she said.

I looked at the waiter and ordered an espresso and the red velvet cake for the lady.

After the waiter left, Lo said to me, “Daddio, I shouldn’t.”

“But you want to, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Then do it.  Why not?  It’s Valentine’s Day, after all.”

The cake and espresso came and I almost did too as I watched Lo eat the decadently delicious confection.

“Let’s go to the hotel and order a whole cake for you to eat while I eat you out,” I suggested, eager to have my luscious little Lo.

“Not yet, Daddio,” she said.  “It’s early.  Let’s go out for a few drinks first.”

“But I want you so much right now,” I said as I watched her tongue lick her red lips of the crimson cake crumbs.

“I’ll give you an appetizer in the car.”

We got in the convertible and Lo turned toward me in the red leather bucket seat.  She spread her legs and rubbed her pussy over her cherry colored panties.

“I like how your entire outfit matches.”

“I’m good like that.”

I drove down the main drag of the city and Lo let the seat go back, lifted her feet onto the dashboard, and removed her panties.  “I won’t be needing these where we’re going,” she said as she tossed them high in the air.  I saw them fly upwards and then down onto the road behind us.

“Lo!” I scolded.

“She laughed.”

“I knew we shouldn’t have ordered a bottle of champagne for the two of us.”

“Oh, Daddio,” she said, rubbing my arm, “don’t be so rigid about the rules.  Are you rigid?” she asked, moving her hand down to my cock.

“Like a ruler,” I said.

“If only you were twelve inches!” she exclaimed.

I parked the car and we went into a cute little bar called “Rosebud & Thistle.”

“Remember Citizen Kane?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said as we walked to the joint.

“Rosebud.”

“What about it?”

“That was the last word he said.”

“And the name of his sled.”

“Did you know that it was also what William Randolph Hearst called his wife’s clit?”

“Now you’re just making that up,” she said skeptically.

“I appreciate your esteem of my creativity, but that’s a fact.”

“Well, why don’t you have a pet name for my clit?” she asked peevishly.

“Because, to me, you’re so much more than your clit.”

“Good save,” she said as we walked in the bar.

Inside was drenched in dim, romantic, rubicund light with lots of tufted leather love seats and a long bar with classic, 1950s style shiny red leather and chrome stools.

“Bar or booth?” I asked Lo.

She scanned the space and settled on the bar, leading me to the far corner.  We found two vacant stools kitty-corner to each other.  She made for one that was next to a lone gentleman who stared into his dwindling drink.  She interrupted his ponderings to ask if the stool was taken and he politely invited her to sit.  She slid up on the stool which, given her diminutive size, meant that her feet didn’t touch the ground.  She smiled at him and I could see her eyes penetrate his dark soul.

Immediately she initiated small talk with him, telling him that we are from out of town and never had been to this place before.  “Is there something pretty and sweet that catches your eye?” she asked before adding, “on the menu.”

He began to make a recommendation, but before he could even get it out, she interrupted him and said, “You know,” grabbing his elbow, “I’m in the mood for something stiff.”  He looked at her, his eyes growing a little wider.  “What are you drinking?” she asked.

He simply said, “Whiskey.”

“Straight?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Well, I’m not straight,” she said, “I want something complicated.”

She looked at the drink menu and put her finger to her lips, contemplating the choices in her mind.

I cleared my throat since throughout this award-worthy performance, I had remained silent.

“OH!” said Lo, introducing me, “This is my man, HH.  HH, this is. . .”

Obviously she didn’t know his name.

“Ron,” he said.

“Hi, Ron,” I said.

“HH, will you order me a pomegranate martini?  I’m going to freshen up,” she said as she attempted to scooch off of her stool.  But the sliding down lifted up her red dress and nearly exposed her rosebud.

“Whoops!” she exclaimed, waiting just long enough for Ron to see before pulling down the front of her dress.

Lo gave me a peck on the cheek and disappeared.

I sat at the bar making conversation with Ron for a few moments before Lo returned.

“So, Ron,” she said almost immediately, “why are you here all alone on Valentine’s Day?”

I felt that that was none of Lo’s concern, but there was no putting the question back in between her just glossed lips now.

Ron went into a long story about breaking up with his girlfriend of four years only a few days ago.  Turns out she was cheating on him.

“What can I do to cheer you up?” asked Lo, sliding her dress up.

“You’re already cheering me up,” he said with great appreciation in his voice.

Lo’s drink came.

“How’s your drink?” I asked as she took a sip.

“It’s wet.”

“Your drink?”

“That too.”

Soon she ordered a slice of strawberry shortcake.

I took great delight in seeing her eat her third dessert and flirting with Ron as I sipped my Manhattan.

“Mmmmm, this is so fucking good!” she said as she took another bite.

“‘Fucking’ is unnecessary and vulgar,” I replied.

“I don’t agree at all.  For me fucking is completely necessary and appropriate.”

“Only if you’re doing it,” I said.

“That’s what I meant,” she responded immediately.  “Why, what were you talking about?”

“I was talking about your vocabulary.  You have a dirty mouth.”

“Not nearly as dirty as my mind.”

Then Lo turned and offered a taste of the cake to her new friend and he took it.  “Isn’t that just heaven?” she asked as her right hand rested his left arm on her bare leg.  He nodded yes and I could see him rubbing her thigh.  When the cake and drinks were consumed, Lo paid the bill, pulling some dollars out of her ruby purse.

“I would have got that,” I said as the bartender took Lo’s cash.

“That’s ok, Daddio,” she said, “this has been my treat.”

Lo kissed Ron on the cheek, slid awkwardly off the stool again, and wished him a happy Valentine’s Day, adding, “Next time, let her cheat – it’s more fun that way.”

Lo put her arm around mine and we went out to the car.

“Lo, you were very bad in there,” I said.

“Was I?” she asked, feigning innocence.  “I thought I was very good.”

When we got in the car, she kicked off her heels and put her feet up on my lap.  “Rub them, Daddy,” she said.

I caressed her toes and instep with my left hand and she moaned.

“Did you like Rosebud, Daddy?” she asked.

“You mean the bar or your clit?” I asked back, looking at her rub her pussy as I pulled out of the parking spot.

“Yes,” she said enigmatically.

“I liked watching you eat three desserts,” I said.  “Maybe tomorrow I’ll get donuts for breakfast.”

“I’m like the perfect donut – delicious, hot, fresh, with a lovely hole.”

“You sure have a way with words,” I said.

“My tongue is wicked, that’s why it’s red, but my soul is pure as the driven snow.”

“Well, that wicked tongue of yours was really charming the pants off of good ole Ron.”

“Can it charm the pants off of you?”

“What do you mean?” I asked as I looked at her, driving distracted.

“Take your cock out.”

“Lo, I’m driving.  In a convertible.  On the main street of this city.”

“Exactly,” she said, wiggling her toes over my lap.

At a red light, I unzipped and pulled out my hard shaft.

We drove on and as we did her feet and toes caressed me. The surprise of it all brought me to an unexpected climax as well, covering Lo’s toes with my warm jizz.

This presented a problem.  My trousers were soaked.  The seat had a puddle.  Everything was wet and sticky.  How were we to get into the hotel to clean off?

“Well, isn’t this a fine mess you got us into?” I asked, mimicking Oliver Hardy’s constant refrain to Stan Laurel.  But the allusion was lost on Lo.  Different generation.

“What do you mean I got us into?!”

“Just kidding, dear.  But what are we going to do?”

“Not a problem.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  Just drive up to the side entrance of the hotel.”

“What are you going to do, put on your invisicloak?”

“Sort of.”

I drove up and Lo said to me, “Leave your phone and wallet in the car and follow me.”

I followed her and she used her hotel key to let us in the pool entrance.  She walked as if she was tipsy and, as if she were walking a balance beam, she tiptoed along the edge of the pool before “accidentally” falling in.

After a split second of shock, I kicked off my shoes and dove in after her, fully clothed.

A few of the guests and the staff ran over to the pool.  I held Lo in my arms, her red dress clinging to her breasts, her little bare feet kicking and splashing.  She faked coughing.

“It’s all right,” I called out.  “I got her!  But could someone get us a couple of towels?”

Men rushed to help and we both got out of the pool even more soaking than we had been a few moments ago.  We wrapped ourselves in the plush white terrycloth towels and I turned to Lo and said, “Pure as the driven snow.”

She looked at me, her mascara dripping down her face, her hair matted down, and she smiled saying, “You’re welcome.”

“You’re welcome?!  I saved you!”

“By letting you save me, I saved you.  Happy Valentine’s Day Daddy.”

Back in the hotel room, after a long hot shower, as I lay naked on the bed watching Lo brushing out her hair, I put on a song that summed up Lola’s V-Day shenanigans.  It’s called, “What Ever Lola Wants,” sung by Sarah Vaughan

 

Whatever Lola wants
Lola gets
And little man little Lola wants you

Make up your mind to have (your mind to have)
No regrets (no regrets)
Recline yourself resign yourself you’re through

I always get what I aim for
And your heart and soul is what I came for

Whatever Lola wants (Lola wants)
Lola gets (Lola gets)
Take off your coat
Don’t you know you can’t win (can’t win you’ll never never win)

You’re no exception to the rule
I’m irresistible you fool
Give in (give in you’ll never win)

I always get what I aim for
And your heart and soul is what I came for

When she came out of the bathroom, she said, “Damn straight!  And now I’m coming for your cock.”

She crawled on the bed and, just to tease her, I said, “I thought I’d read a little.”

She spread her legs and replied, “Read between the lines,” as she placed her middle finger between her lush red labia.

“Looks like it says, ‘Rosebud,’” I said as I indulged in my dessert.

We’re Good

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Once, while doing a little internet search to find out if any other guy is in a similar situation as I, I came across the following plea for help to some advice columnist:

 

I recently found out that my girlfriend waits for me to go upstairs and take a shower, or goes upstairs to the shower herself so that she can masturbate.  I have never, ever rejected her for sex.  I have even told her many times that she could have me whenever and wherever.  We have been together for almost five years.  When I caught her – long story – she claimed that this has only been going on for a few months before I found out.  I was really upset about it.  When I confronted her about it, she said that it only happens ‘six out of every ten times’ that I’m not home.  So, more than half of the time that I’m not there, she would rather fuck herself than me.  She acts happy and she tells me she loves me multiple times a day.   She says that everything in our relationship is good.  However, over the past six or seven months, she only had sex with me maybe once or twice a month.  (When we started dating we were having sex at least once or twice a day!)  She claims that she wants sex, but she just would rather masturbate than have sex with me – even when I’m at home.  I just don’t understand why.  And now I feel like I just don’t know who she really is or that our relationship is as truthful as I thought it was.

 

I felt really bad for the poor dejected boyfriend, especially because it could easily have been written by Lo’s ex-boyfriend – the guy she was with just prior to me.

You see, she was with this boy, Steve, for close to three years.  The first year was wonderful – so she tells me – but the last two, not so much.  At some point she fell out of love with him.  It happens.  Now, Lo being Lo, though the love was lost, she couldn’t just turn off her libido.  And, if she were very honest, she would tell you that she stayed with this fella because he did have quite an amazing cock – over 9” in length and thicker than her forearm in girth.  As a result, she resorted to the methods of the hapless fella’s girlfriend as quoted above.  She would masturbate in bed after he fell asleep.  She’d masturbate in the shower when he was home with her (at his parent’s house).  She would masturbate when he wasn’t around.

What’s more, when Lo began to deny this strapping youth the pleasures of worshiping at her alter, he, being virile himself, would often jack it in the bed next to her.  She could feel the bed moving, his breathing growing heavy in short quick breaths, and sometimes even the warm ejaculate upon her back.  Through it all she remained stoic and still, feigning sleep until it was her turn.  She knew that only a few moments after he came she would have her chance.

Yet, every once in a while she still craved that cock of his and she would get her fill.  On occasion she would open her mouth to receive all nine inches of that rod; she’d bend over to take it in her puss or her ass; she’d get on her knees to have him cum on her face.  And this was enough to give Steve hope and keep him returning to the well for more.

Much of this relationship was while Lo was in college and Steve, who didn’t go to college and lived at home with his parents, was none-the-wiser of Lo’s various “boyfriends” she kept at school.  There was Gerald and his diminutive endowment enhanced (or, rather, the opposite of enhanced) by the use of steroids.  There was Teddy and the massive member he carried around with him like a Smith & Wesson 500 Magnum.  And there was the elusive Ryan.  These play-things were good for some thrills, but Lo was unable to extricate herself from the place she carved out in Steve’s nuclear and extended family.

She went through all the motions of Thanksgiving and Christmas, birthdays, and family vacations with them.  Yes, the first year she entirely enjoyed him and his family.  In truth, they were a very good group of people – so good that when she felt herself falling out of love with him, she lamented leaving them more than leaving him.

She remained in this limbo, as I said, for about two strained years.  I knew her during this time and, on occasion, we would see each other.  It would only be years later, after she and I became a couple, that she revealed to me that she had a thing for me all that time and that frequently, after we would get together for a coffee to catch up, or an innocent meeting at a concert or bookstore, she would jill it to thoughts of me.  (Flattering.  Very flattering.)

But then, in some magical way, sparks of romance began to shoot back and forth in our Platonic relationship.  Soon enough she was slipping away from Steve in order to meet with me for the illicit dark alley kiss; the so very risky blow-job in my office, or the unrestrained fuck in the front seat of my steamed-up car.

Then came that fateful day that she and I were at a remote bar, staring into each other’s eyes, talking, after having two or three drinks, when she revealed to me something that cut me to the quick.  “So, last night, after we met and you got me all riled up,” she began, making reference to our long, lustful make-out session that resulted in her cumming a number of times without any actual penetration, “I needed it.  I had to have it.  I went home and I woke Steve up from bed and I sucked his cock till he was good and hard.  I spread my legs and, as he was going at me with that massive cock of his and I was just on the verge of cumming and cumming in a BIG way, I found myself unconsciously saying. . .”

“Saying what?” I asked, on the edge of my seat when her words trailed off.

“Saying your name.”

“Out loud?!”

“Well, loud enough that I heard it.  I don’t think Steve heard me.  He was going at me furiously.  When I finally came, I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from screaming your name cause, you see, I was imagining that it was you fucking me and not him.”

These words of hers poured into my ears like a mixture of poison and elixir.  They swirled in my chest and elicited the most confused concoction of emotions I had ever known.  At one and the same time I was delighted to hear this story; excited to imagine it vividly in my mind; repulsed by the image; disturbed by the thought of her going home to him for sex, even if she was thinking about me.  I had no words for any of this.  Waves of heat descended over my body from head to toe.  All I could do was look into her lovely eyes and gaze at her beautiful and oh-so-dirty mouth.  And, without knowing what it was that I was doing or saying, I grabbed her hands and my mouth pronounced the words, “Lo, I need to tell you, I love you.  I love you desperately and deeply.  I love you in a way that I have never, ever known.  I love you and I have loved you and every day I fall deeper in love with you.”

She looked at me with confusion and joy on her face.  We were in the middle of some dive joint in the sticks, country music playing on an old jukebox, the bar filled with sad, drunk people.  This was hardly the place that I would have picked to profess my love for her and I think that the confession came as quite a surprise to her as well.  But her response to my unreasoned and untoward words surprised me equally.  She said simply, “I love you too.”  It wasn’t the sort of pat, formulaic response that is said out of politeness.  It was heartfelt.  They were four simple, monosyllabic, yet very weighty words pronounced with measure and sincerity.  Perhaps more than the words, the look in her eyes as she said them lent them the reassurance of truth that reading them on the page fails to do.

Her hands clutched mine and I knew that we had something, something real and something special – something that we had to do something with and about in order to become the people we were.

Sometime after this mutual exchange of love, I said to her, “Lo, but there is one thing I need you to promise me – to promise me very solemnly.”

“What?”

“I need you to swear that if ever you fall out of love with me like you have fallen out of love with Steve, you will tell me.  You will have the kindness and courage to say it to my face immediately.  You will never string me along.  You will never stay with me out of convenience.  You will never fuck me and whisper to yourself the name of some other man.”

Little did I know back then what I know now – that I would give my blessing to Lo’s fucking as many men and women as she pleases.  Yet one thing still holds true – I demand her love.  I know that when she fucks someone else, it is I whom she loves.  I know that when she masturbates to wild fantasies, it is I whom she loves.  I know that when she lusts for men and women whom we pass in the street, it is I whom she loves.  As long as I know that, we’re good.  We’re very, very good.

[Image, of Lola Masturbating by JoKoss.]

Slut Lust

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Slut Lust

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Were you worried?”

“Yes.”

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

“Lo, answer the question.”

“What’s the question?”

“Why are you getting yourself all done up?”

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

“A date?  With whom?”

“Brian.”

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

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

“What does that mean?”

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

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

“Should I be jealous?”

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

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

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

I did so.

“How’s it feel?” she asked.

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

“Am I tight?”

“Not at all.  I can hardly feel you.”

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

“Do you plan on fucking him?”

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

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

“Tell me.  What is the truth?”

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

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

“A cheating little bitch.”

“Yeah.”

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

“Stop.” she said.

“What?”

“Stop!”

“But I’m. . .”

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

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

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

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

“Fine,” I said, angrily.

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

“Morning Daddio,” she said pleased as peach.

“I want to fuck you,” I said.

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

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

“Are you coming home before your date tonight?”

“Of course I am,” she said.

“So I’ll see you around five?”

“Yeah.”

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

I texted back three eggplant emojis.

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

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

“What?”

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

“Today?!”

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

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

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

“And all holes.”

“You’re so vulgar.”

“But right.”

“Yeah, so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine,” I said.

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

“What do you think?”

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

“Yes.”

“How much?”

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

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

“I think I should be asking you that.”

“I asked you first.”

“I was good.”

“Did you jack it?”

“No.”

“Did you look at porn?”

“Only yours.”

“Did you cum?”

“I told you, I didn’t jack it.”

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

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

“Good.”

“Tell me about your night.”

“Are you sure you want to hear?”

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

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

“Really?  And how do you define lust?”

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

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

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

“And love?”

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

“And you’re a slut in lust?”

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

“Really?”

“Was there ever any doubt?”

“Go on.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Such as?”

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

“And what did you tell him?”

“I told him the truth, of course.”

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

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

“And?”

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

“Really?”

“Are you jealous now?”

“Did you go to his house?”

“Of course!  Don’t be silly.”

“And?”

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

“Then what?”

“Oh, it’s too embarrassing.”

“What?”

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

“Uh oh!”

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

“So, you left your calling card!”

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

“A slutty lady.”

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

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“And now?”

“Now I want you, Daddy.”

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

“Uh-uh,” she said.

“What?”

“It’s too heavy for that.”

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

“But. . .” I protested.

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

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

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

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

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

“Like a big, horny dog.”

“Tell me about it.”

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

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

“A big dog, Daddy?”

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

“You’re bad, Daddy.”

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

“Does he lick me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Touché!”