Fountain of Youth

Lola had planned on one more meeting with Terence at the sperm bank, but the clinic had a strict rule about donors not being able to sign up for a wank more than once a fortnight.  In the intervening time, Lo’s little meeting with the director required that she attend to some other business.  You see, the director of the clinic – the owner actually – was none other than Lili’s Uncle Collin.  That’s right!  The same Uncle Collin who had hosted us at the fateful Mount Bliss.

“Hello Lola,” he said, looking up from the wooden desk behind which he sat.

“Collin?!”

“Who else?”

Lola could only look dumbfounded.  He was the last person she had expected to find at this suburban office park and running a nondescript sperm collection clinic.  What the hell was he doing here?  But then, when she thought about the décor of the place – the David Hamilton prints, the Roy Stuart posters, the Sabrina Dacos book – well, then it all began to make a bit more sense.

Lola asked all the questions that had swarmed in her mind.  What are you doing here?  How did you know it was me?  Isn’t this place supposed to be anonymous?  I never even signed in!

Suffice it to say, Collin has his ways.  A man with the unlimited means at his disposal that he has can find out a lot of things that the rest of us mere monetary mortals would find impossible.  It so turned out that his latest scheme, with his nephew David, is to develop and sell feminine moisturizing and beauty products made from the sperm of voluntary cumtributors.

“You see,” he said, “after I saw Fight Club, I thought to myself, ‘That’s ingenious!  Making soap from the fat siphoned off through liposuction.  I gave it some further consideration and struck on this even more ingenious idea.”  Collin is rarely modest.  “Collect the semen of millions of men and manufacture it, bottle it, and market it as conditioner, moisturizer, and other skin-care products for women.  Turns out – and I only learned this from the boy wonder, David – that semen contains a powerful antioxidant called spermine.  Spermine is the central component of seminal fluid and gives it its unique aroma.  It also has many health benefits that are only beginning to be discovered.”

“So, this place is just a front?” asked Lo.

“Oh no,” said Collin, “this is an actual sperm bank for the usual purposes – licensed, regulated, on the up-and-up, legit.”

“Then, what are you doing here?”

“I had to start somewhere.”

“I suppose so.”

“You’re looking good.”

“Oh, shucks,” said Lo, “I always look good after I jerk a man off.”

“I bet you do.”

“I don’t suppose this place will produce enough sperm for your worldwide distribution of beauty products.”

“Oh, no.  Not at all.  This is just a trial run.  What I’m thinking about doing is on a grand scale.  That’s why I’ve asked you into my office.”

“How so?”

“You see, I want to build a state-of-the-art facility that is a cross between museum and a maisons de tolerance.

“I’m sorry,” said Lo, “but you lost me with that last one.  My French is a bit rusty.”

“A maisons closes,” said Collin unhelpfully.  Lola looked perplexed.  “Fancy French brothels like Aux Belles Poules or Le Chabanais.”

“So there would be prostitutes there?”

“No, no.  Not at all.  That would be. . . illegal.  We can’t have that,” said Collin with a smile.  “But there would be the option of the donors hiring a nurse or clinical assistant.”

“You mean. . .”

“Someone like you to give the boys a hand.”

“I see.  Is that why you summoned me here?”

“I would like your assistance in the planning.  I need some help choosing, well, that is – mostly the interior decorating.”

“Oh,” said Lo, a little surprised.

“I liked your choice of posters for room number three,” he said.

“So did I,” replied Lo.

“However, for my new facility, I’d like you to help with the overall design.  You have a certain skill at making men feel. . .”

“Generous?” inserted Lo.

“Inspired.”

“Well, I certainly like the direction you’re going.”

Collin wasn’t sure how to take that.  “The David Hamilton?”

“And Roy Stuart, Sabrina Dacos, and, who knows, maybe all the staff, like Ellie and Courtney, could provide boudoir photos as well to give the place a more personal touch.”

“I love the way you think, Ms. Down.”

“Tell me more about this scheme of yours.”

Collin went on to tell Lo that, unlike an actual sperm bank, a collection center such as he envisioned wouldn’t be under any oversight by regulators since the collections were not to be used to make babies.  And the product he hoped to produce wouldn’t be under the auspices of the F.D.A. either because it would be a cosmetic product, not a drug.  Best of all, cosmetics in the U.S. have almost no oversight – not like in Europe.  Lo inquired about the logistics of it.  Collin said that the men would be paid better than the going rate at the fertility clinics and, “they’ll be glad to hear this, they can come as often as they wish since the centrifugal process – or however David plans on deriving the essence of men’s essence – doesn’t need the same sort of sperm count that a fertility clinic does!”

“That’s it!” said Lo, excited.

“What’s it?”

“Your catch phrase – Cum as often as you want!”

“That’s good.  That’s very good,” said Collin, stroking his bearded chin.  “Yes,” he continued, “men can cum twice, even three times a day if they’re up for it.”

“And I’ll see to it that they are up for it!” said Lo.

Sabrina Dacos

Sabrina Dacos

Sabrina Dacos

Roy Stuart

David Hamilton

 

 

 

 

Stiff Competition

Lola didn’t know if she was in trouble, but she was on her way to meet the director of the sperm bank.  She walked down the long hallway, lined with the framed color posters of David Hamilton’s work, and at the end of the hallway she knocked.  “Come in,” she heard a man’s voice say from behind the door.

Art by David Hamilton

Art of making art by David Hamilton

Art by David Hamilton

We shall save for later what transpired behind the director’s closed door after Lola entered it, but for now, let us pick our story up when Lola arrived at the clinic for a third appointment with Terence.

They met in the parking lot, as usual, and Lola was wearing her long white coat, but this time she had a surprise for Terence under it.  Or rather, she had nothing to surprise Terence with under her coat.

Inside the clinic the receptionist again directed them to room #3.  Upon entering, it was Lola who was surprised, for on the walls, in place of the framed posters of Lola’s cream pies, were framed posters of Ellie, the night-shift receptionist who had helped Terence by coaxing his cum out of him (before Lola fulfilled that job) and by reading to him from Match, Cinder & Spark.  Apparently, she found out about the Lola poster substitute and that Terence was “two-timing” her with Lo during the day.  She took liberties and removed Lo’s framed photos, replacing them with her own.

Ellie Mowbray

Ellie cumcovered

One poster was a black-and-white of Ellie, nude, spread eagle with cum covering her hairy pussy.  The other was of her on her knees taking one cock in her mouth and two cocks on either side of her as she stroked them off.  You couldn’t see her face in either of those posters, but, just to make sure there was no mistake, there was a framed photo of Ellie in a salmon colored outfit of shorts and an oversized blouse wearing glasses and smiling or almost laughing.

Ellie Mowbray

Ellie knows how to please three guys at once

Lola thought, “It’s on.”

“Whoa!” said Terence upon seeing the framed photos.

Ellen Mowbray

“You know her?”

“Um, yeah.  She’s the one who used to help me out.  She works the evening shift.”

Lola began to walk out of the room.

“Hey!  Where are you going?” asked Terence, confused.

“To request another room.”

“Why?”

“I find it rude.”

“Rude?”

“Desperate.”

“Desperate?”

“Thirsty.”

“Thirsty?”

“Is there an echo in here?  Look, she’s clearly still salty about what happened with Steve.”

“Steve?”

“Her ex-boyfriend.”

“What happened?”

“Ah, you can read all about it on the blog.  She’s just being petty.”

“Maybe she wanted you to see it.  Maybe it’s for your pleasure?”

“You like?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“I do.”

“Fine,” said Lo.  “Pull out your pud.”  She was very matter-of-fact.  No seduction, no sensuality, no affection.

Terence, who had been looking forward to this for days, was eager to comply.

Lo then opened her overcoat to reveal she was wearing absolutely nothing under it!

“Ellie ever help you like this?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

Lo put on the latex gloves, lubricated, reached down between his legs and began stroking him.  She leaned forward so that her breasts were dangling tantalizingly in front of his face.  She exaggerated her hand motion so that her heavy breasts wobbled and banged up against one-another.  He couldn’t take his eyes off her heaving mounds.  Lo slowly slid her hand down below the shaft of his cock to his large balls.  She massaged them and fondled them, gently playing with them with her fingertips.  He clearly liked it.  Lo didn’t speak this time.  She just watched his facial expressions.  Her focus went from his face to his crotch and back again.  And again.

She then surreptitiously slid her index finger down below his balls to his perineum.  She used a feather-light touch on it for a while and then cautiously, furtively slid her index finger further south to his anus.

“Are you a top or a bottom when you’re with men?” she asked.

“Switch,” he said in a tense whisper.

“Stand up,” she commanded.

He got up out of the chair.

“Turn around,” she ordered.

He complied.

“Bend over,” she said, “and let’s have a full rectal exam.”

He bent over.  She inserted one, then two, then three fingers of her right hand as her left hand reached around and stroked his cock.  He was looking up at the large poster of Ellie on the wall.  Lola was too.  Lo continued her erotic massage, but it wasn’t long before he said, “The cup!  The cup!”

Lo passed him the specimen cup and stroked him as he held the jar in front of his cock and filled it with more of his donation than he ever had before.  His knees buckled and his entire body went tense and spasmed.  He could hardly stand.  He let out multiple calls of Lola’s name.  Then he collapsed back in the chair, his cock still twitching.

He passed the collection cup to Lo who screwed on the lid tightly.

Lo smiled at him as she stood before his depleted body.  The contrast between her tall, strong, lusty, flush and full body standing naked over his weak and limp body couldn’t have been more pronounced.  She removed her gloves and threw them in the special trash bin for contaminated waste.

After he regained some of his vigor, she said, “Now you stand up and let me have the chair.”

He complied.

Lo sat in the chair, put her feet up on it, spreading her legs, and she began making small circular motions over her clit with her right hand.  He watched her intently.  Her movements increased in speed and intensity until she was now rubbing up-and-down in small, rapid strokes.  This technique got more intense still until she was patting and then slapping her wet pussy.  She progressed to inserting one and then two fingers deep in her pussy.  She fingered herself for about a minute until SPLOOSH!  She squirted straight ahead, sprinkling Terence with her holy water.  It was a long, strong, and voluminous stream that soaked him and his clothes.  He didn’t seem to mind.

Ellen Mowbray

Ellie leaving work after a hard day

Ellie Mowbray

Ellie getting off after a hard day at the masturbatorium

Elln Mowbray

Ellie third from right

Digital Inspiration

It appears that word got out about Lola’s “immoral support” of Ted, the “known donor” for our friends Gina and Cam.  You see, a while back Lo “encouraged” Ted’s selfless sperm donation.  I’m pleased to say that the process eventually proved successful.  Gina and Cam are now the proud parents of a baby boy!

They are so proud that they have told a wide circle of friends and acquaintances all about the method by which they got pregnant, including Lo’s special role in it.  One morning, out of the blue, as Lo was scrolling through her long list of long dongs, micro penises, clits and tits to get herself off, she got a message from a stranger.  That’s not too uncommon, but this stranger knew our friends Gina and Cam and he had an unusual request.

His name was Terence and he was a man in his mid-thirties.  Like most of Cam and Gina’s friends, he wasn’t straight, but he wasn’t out as gay either.  He, like Lola, identified as “queer.”  But he wasn’t just queer, he had a downright perverted side to him.  There were a lot of things that he enjoyed doing to get himself off, but I’ll let those unfold as we get to them.  At this point, the one kink that he revealed to Lo was pertinent to the ask he had of her.

“I go to the sperm bank regularly to make a donation,” he said.

That’s quaint, thought Lo, as first.  A good Samaritan who, like a blood donor, gives of himself for others.  Not quite.  It turns out he likes to go there in order to wank in a public setting.  He likes the thought that the receptionist knows that he is jerking off in the room next to her.

This revelation really turned Lo on.  She had never thought of that possibility before.  Whenever she had thought of a sperm bank, which, given Lo’s predisposition for naughty imaginings she had thought of on occasion, she only thought of guys going in there embarrassed, a little humiliated, and bashful.  She hadn’t entertained the idea of a quasi-exhibitionist being turned on by the thought of everyone knowing from the outset what his particular purpose for visiting the clinic is and that, when done, they all know for certain what he had just accomplished.

She was intrigued, to say the least, and she carried on a lengthy correspondence with him.  He told her that he had been doing this on a regular basis at the same collection clinic for months now.  He also mentioned that – by design or happy coincidence – all the nurses at this clinic are very attractive and that he had built a special rapport with one of them named Ellie.

He told Lo how Ellie always works the closing shift.  For convenience, the collection clinic is open from 8:00 a.m. to 9:30 p.m.  They found that they get more people willing to donate after work hours.  She is the only staff on site, except for the security guard, after five.  He had made it a regular habit to donate when she’s working and she has taken some liberties with the rules.  It started out that he noticed her flirting with him.  Then, one week, he found a photo of her on the top of the pile of magazines.  Each week the photo she placed there got a little bit more risqué.  One week, when he exited the collection station room, he apologized to her and said, “I made a little mess.  I missed the target and spilled some semen on your, I mean, the photo in there.”

She gave him a knowing look.  He imagined, but couldn’t confirm, that she went into the room after and got the cum-covered glossy photo of herself and did something with it.  The next week he found she had left a nude photo of herself.  He made sure to make a mess of that too and apologize again.

Within the month, she was in the collection room with him, jerking him off.  She began by merely stroking him.  But then it progressed to her stroking him and reading passages from books and blogs.  At one point, she read to him from Match, Cinder & Spark.  She was already familiar with Lola and me because we had written about her in the post, “Triangles of Sadness.”  After she broke up with Steven, she actually became infatuated with Lola, even though Lola was the cause of her breakup.

Ellie & Steve before the breakup

It was a small world because she also read the story about Lola: “ICI – Home Insemination with a Known Donor.”  Terence realized that this Lola Down was the same person that his friends Cam and Gina had told him about.  Now he had her email address (through the blog) and he reached out to her.  Having learned about Lo’s personality, he wisely included some sexy selfies.

Terence expressed his kinky wish to Lo.  He knew that this donation clinic allowed for wives or significant others to accompany the donor in order to help with the donation process.  He wanted Lola to pose as his girlfriend for that purpose.  And, he wanted to do it during the day shift when his special nurse wouldn’t be there and so the nurses who didn’t know him would now be aware of exactly what he and Lola were up to in that room.  It was an extension and variation on his fundamental kink which was simply jerking off in a room merely a few feet from the nurse who knows what he’s doing and then seeing her face afterwards.

Perhaps unremarkably, the exotic and extravagant nature of this kink turned Lo on.  She spent many nights whispering in my ear, asking me what I thought it would be like for her to do this for Terence because, you see, Terence had just donated and so now needed to wait a couple of more weeks before he could schedule to make his deposit with Lo’s assistance.

Night-after-night she tantalized me by masturbating in the bed next to me, looking at Terence’s photos – which only got more explicit and, according to Lo, more hot, each day – and telling me the narrative of how she would like the session to go.

Lola looking at cumtributes.

Finally, the big day came – and so did Lo, many times that morning before left our warm bed to meet Terence at the fertility clinic.

It was a bitterly cold day.  We had been in the grip of a cold-snap for two or three days already.  Lo had spent at least an hour prepping for her little lab-assistant role.  She tried on at least five different outfits, asking me each time, “What do you think about this?”  I loved each one, but as soon as I said so, she found it objectionable for some reason and started anew.  Finally, she decided on a short skirt, black nylons under it, no panties.  A black, mostly transparent, crepe blouse, no bra.  Over that incredibly hot outfit, she draped her long, heavy white coat and put on her knee-high leather boots.

Lo getting dressed for “work”

I was desperate to have her.  Every outfit change, she stripped back down to nothing at all and it was too much for me to bear.  I was hard and suffering and she made me sit through the entire process.  Not that I was complaining, but it was a form of sexual torture.

She left me high and dry with the instruction that, under no circumstances, was I to masturbate.  That is pretty much a standing rule, but she knew how hot she had made me for her and she knew she’d want all that pent-up energy for herself upon her return.

Just like that she was off!  She was to meet Terence at the clinic.  Separate cars.  This was not a date.  Lo was very clear about that.  This was a clinical assistance project.

Whatever she wanted to call it, she arrived before Terence.

Lo waited in the car.  She could see her breath as she waited.  She touched herself between her legs, gently stroking over the nylons.  She liked the feel of the nylon as it rubbed against her pussy and clit.  She was getting wet.  Her warm wetness and the dropping temperature in the car was stimulating her between her legs.  She knew she wouldn’t be able to wait much longer.  Either he had to arrive or she’d have to “go all the way” with herself.

She saw Terence walking in the parking lot.  “Good,” she thought, “because any longer and I’d cum right here and who knows?  Maybe I’d squirt and it would freeze!”

Lo practically leapt out of the car and met him.

“Hey,” she said, trying to play it cool.

“Hi.”

It was awkward, but only for a moment.  Lola grabbed his hand.  “We’re supposed to be a couple, right?”

“Right,” he said.

They walked together into the clinic.  They stopped at the reception desk.  Terence flashed a cordial but gregarious smile at the woman sitting behind counter.  He introduced himself and said that he had an appointment for noon.  The woman typed something into her computer and then smiled back.

“Yes, room three,” she said, looking at Lola who had opened her long white coat to reveal the transparent blouse underneath it.  For a brief moment, Lola thought she had overplayed her hand.  The receptionist typed something into her computer and then looked up at Terence and Lo.  She said, “Ah yes, I see you have already entered the information about your service assistant.”

Lo tried to smile politely at the woman, but she felt as if “service assistant,” sounded too much like “service dog.”  But then Lo’s mind went to that kinky area (which is about 99% of her mind) and she began to think what it would be like to have a “service dog” to service her in the manner that she was about to service Terence.  Lo was already getting wet.  Or, wetter, I should say.

The receptionist passed a collection jar to Terence and also passed him an individual sized, complementary miniature tube of special lube that would not contaminate the collection sample.

“Do you need instructions?” she asked as she handed the lube to Terence.

“No, I’ve been here before.”

The receptionist gave him a knowing look and then went back to her typing.

Terence casually led Lo down the white, sterile hallway and to room three.  All along the hall were posters of Roy Stuart’s photos.  Terence opened the door and let Lo in like a gentleman.  In the little white room was a sink, a small white shelf next to it, a comfortable chair, a small TV screen with a CD player, some porno mags under the TV and more framed Roy Stuart posters on the walls.  Lo also noticed a large, coffee table book by one of her favorite photographers, Sabrina Dacos.

Roy Stuart Photography

Roy Stuart “Glimpse”

Sabrina Dacos Selfie

Sabrina Dacos tits and shaved snatch

Lo looked around, taking it all in.  She was even more excited now as she imagined all the men who had been in this room and what they were doing there.  Sex, in all its permutations and manifestations, holds a perpetual allure for Lo.

One thing that Lo’s keen observation of the room and its objects didn’t see was a coat rack for her white overcoat.

“You sit down.  Get comfortable,” she said to Terence.  “I’m going to find a place to hang up my coat.”

She turned back around and went out to the receptionist.

“Excuse me,” she said as politely as she could, “but is there a place for me to hang my coat?”

The receptionist pointed her down a different hallway.  “Just to your left,” she said.

Lo walked down that hallway and, to her surprise, she saw framed posters lining it with images by David Hamilton.

David Hamilton’s Laura

Art by David Hamilton

She saw a line of coat hangers along the far wall and she hung up her coat.  Walking back towards the receptionist – the building was shaped like an ‘L,’ with the receptionist at the intersection of the two perpendicular wings – she said, “I didn’t know you had a children’s section.”

The receptionist looked up, blank-faced.  She saw Lo’s prominent breasts, nearly naked, just under the loose-fitting sheer black blouse.  She merely opened her mouth, making a little pout with her lips.  Lo wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she took it as a compliment and walked past her proudly.

Lo breezed by a single man in the hallway who was also on his way to a different room.  Lo made clear and unambiguous eye contact with him.  However, his eyes quickly looked down and settled on Lo’s tits.  Lo could understand the allure to both working there and going there as an exhibitionist like Terence.  There was something exciting and stimulating for Lo knowing that the man she passed in the hall was either about to go jack off or had just finished.  And it excited her for him to know that she was roaming the hallway in search of stimulating some eager altruist ready to selflessly give his essence to some needy couple.  Lo walked briskly, keenly anticipating her part to play with Terence.

Terence was now sitting in the chair.  Lo looked at him.  He smiled at the sight of her in the blouse.  Lo had expected he would be naked, or at least pantless by this point, but he was just sitting there, clothed as he was when Lo went down the hall.  He also wore a wide grin on his face, staring at her tits and then her eyes and back to her tits.

“So,” said Lo, “how do you want to do this?”

“I guess, if you just unzip me, pull me out, lube me up, and I’ll take it from there,” he said.

Lo pulled out to sterile latex gloves from the box on the counter next to the Sabrina Dacos book.  She put them on and then unbuttoned Terence’s pants, unzipped the fly, pulled them down around his ankles.  He was already hard and bulging from under his tight white underwear.

Lo pulled down the underwear and his long, thick dick sprung out like a Jack-in-the-Box.  Lo marveled at its size, shape, and apparent eagerness to donate.

“You like?” he asked.

“MmmmHmmmm,” she moaned.  Her face was only inches away from the specimen and, had they been in another setting, she would have taken the meat in her mouth with relish.  But she could not do that, lest the donation become contaminated and useless.

“Anything in particular that will help you?”

“Can you get naked?”

“No,” said Lo, as if offended.  “This is not for pleasure.  This is a selfless act of generosity to both science and humanity.”

What a load of malarkey!  Did she actually believe that?  No.  It was part of the game.

“Then,” he said a bit disappointed, “can you at least stand close to me?”

In point of fact, she was actually standing right next to him.  He sat.  She leaned over and held his cock in her gloved hand.  She was bouncing it on her fingers to see just how rigid, weighty, and stiff it was.  Then she put a heaping dab of the lube in her palm.  She slowly applied the lube to his shaft, deliberately stroking up-and-down, base-to-tip, a few times before setting to work in earnest.  She began vigorously jerking him off.

“A little slower,” he requested politely.

She shifted into a lower gear.

“Like this?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Your tits.”

“Say more.”

“I want to suck them and lick them.  Those nipples under your blouse – God!  They look amazing.”

She leaned in a little further so that the apex of her breasts were mere centimeters from his lips.

“How long does it typically take you to cum?” she asked.

“I masturbate a lot,” he said.

“That’s ok.”

“So it takes me nearly the full half-hour.”

The rooms were assigned by half-hour increments, but the staff preferred if donors were faster so they had proper time to clean up and disinfect each room when done.

When he said this, Lola took it as a personal challenge.  How quickly could she get this compulsive masturbator to ejaculate?

“When’s the last time you came?” she asked.

“This morning.”

“What?!  I thought they only allow you to donate once every two weeks because if you did it more often it lowers the sperm count.”

“Yeah, that’s a dumb rule, isn’t it?” he said, looking at Lo, their eyes and mouths very close.  “I mean, they can’t monitor or control what happens at home.”

“What did you cum to this morning?” she asked.

“Thinking about you doing this.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“And, in your imagination as you were at home in bed jacking off, what did you think would happen?”

“Can I tell you the truth?”

“Yes, please!”

“I was jacking off in bed next to my sleeping wife.”

“Your wife?!” asked Lo, still stroking up-and-down, “You’re married?”

“Yes.  You didn’t know that?” he said, looking directly at her now.

“No, I didn’t know anything about you except that you heard about me through Gina and Cam and what you’ve told me.”

“Are you upset?”

“No, not at all.  Why should I be?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe you think I’m a perverted, sleazy, creep.”

“Why would I think that?  Because you’re married and go to a sperm bank to get off and you masturbate in bed next to your sleeping wife?”

“Well, uh, yeah.  When you put it that way.”

“Don’t.  Everyone has their kinks, their quirks, their turn-ons and offs.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“I mean, I know that, but you don’t think bad of me because of it?”

“Of course not.  In fact, it turns me on that you were jerking off next to her.”

“It does?”

“Yes,” she said, adding pressure to her grip and speed to her stroke.  “It will turn me on more if you told me what you were thinking about as you did it.”  She brought it back to this because he was losing his hard-on with all the conversation.

“I was thinking that you’d get naked and let me feel your body, maybe let me suck your tits, and. . .”

“Now, now,” said Lo, putting a damper on his hopes, “that would be against the rules.”

In point of fact, there were no rules other than not contaminating the sample by coaxing it out either orally or vaginally.  But no rules were in force to stop Lola from getting naked.  She just liked enforcing arbitrary rules.

“Too bad,” he said.

“What do you think of that?” asked Lo, indicating the Roy Stuart poster in front of them.

Terence glanced up at the brunette in the frame and then looked deep into Lola’s eyes and simply said, “I wish it was you.”

That little comment put an idea in Lo’s head and she felt herself gushing from the thought of it.

She started moaning as if she were the one receiving the erotic massage and the auditory stimulation really got Terence going.

“Are you wet?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You like stroking me?”

“Mmmmm, so much.”

“You want to see me cum?”

She just bit down on her lower lip and this was enough to bring Terence to the brink.

“Quick!  The specimen jar!”

Lo grabbed it as Terence took matters in his own hands and aimed right at the small target.  Out came loads and loads of cum – more than Lo had ever seen before in one orgasm.  If she was gushing just a moment ago, now she was a full-on leaky labiator.

“FUUUUUUCK!” cried out Terence, certainly loud enough for the receptionist to hear.

“That’s a boy,” encouraged Lo, dropping to her knees as if wanting desperately to be the receptacle for his deposit, as if worshiping his cock and potency, as if weak in her knees from the visual excitement.

When he was done, he cleaned up the bit he spilled or dribbled down his leg and then he pulled up his pants, zipped up, tucked in his shirt, and made himself generally presentable.

Lo and Terence emerged from room #3 and walked to the reception desk.  Terence dropped off the collection container and the receptionist looked up without any expression on her face.

“All set,” said Terence.

“All set,” the receptionist replied with a polite smile.

Lo was holding Terence’s hand as if she was his girlfriend.  She returned the polite smile to the receptionist and the two of them walked out into the freezing cold.  Lo’s nipples became like diamond cutters immediately and she squeezed Terence’s hand and said, “You go on home.  I forgot my coat!”  She gave him a loving kiss, open-mouthed, and squeezed his hand before turning around and going back into the clinic.

Terence waited a bit in the parking lot, but when Lo didn’t come back out for a while, he figured he’d better drive away before he looked like he was stalking her, or someone else at the clinic.  After all, his car was on, the windows were fogging up, and it was clear from the exhaust that he was just idling in the parking lot outside the front doors of the sperm donation site.

Send Lo your cumtribute.

Interview with the Author and Muse

The following interview was just published on the very elite blog: AuthorsInterviews by the wonderful Fiona Mcvie!

Hello and welcome to my blog, Author Interviews. My name is Fiona Mcvie.

Let’s get you introduced to everyone, shall we? Tell us your name. What is your age?

LOLA: Hi, my name is Lola Down.  I’m in my mid-twenties.  My man, H.H., the author, is in his mid-fifties. 

Fiona: Where are you from?

LOLA: We’re both from the U.S.  The North East to be more specific.  But that’s about as specific as we get. 

Fiona: A little about your self (ie,  your education, family life, etc.).

LOLA: We’re both well educated with graduate degrees.  My family background is rather tattered and filled with pain.  His is all American Apple Pie, so far as I can tell, but I’m sure that there’s lots beneath the surface.  He doesn’t talk much about it, so it’s a bit of a mystery to me.  We met when he was my art history professor.  I was a freshman and 18.  He was in his late forties. 

Fiona: Tell us your latest news.

LOLA: Latest news is that soon we will be publishing the third book in our series of Match, Cinder & Spark.  The first volume, subtitled “Nymphomania and the Single Girl,” included a lot of stories about me when I was single. The second volume, subtitled “MORE!” included more stories.  The third volume, subtitled “Writing Under Cover,” included a story about living a double life: of normal folks by day, and sexplorers by night.  The next volume is subtitled “Sexy Shorts” and will only be two-three page stories. 

Get all of the books, hard-copy for best results.


Fiona: When and why did you begin writing?

H.H.: I began writing in high school.  Short stories, mostly of a sci-fi genre.  In college I tried a bit more, but it wasn’t very good.  It wasn’t until I was in my late twenties, early thirties and going through some very tough times in my personal and professional life that I turned to writing as a form of escape, release, or therapy.  That’s when it began to go much better. 


Fiona: When did you first consider yourself a writer?

H.H.: I never really felt like a writer and certainly never introduced my self as such because it seemed so pretentious and false.  But at a certain point I just had written so damn much that it was undeniable that that was what I was.  A tiny fraction of it had been published, but it wasn’t until starting the blog, mysexlifewithlola.com, that I really felt like a writer.  That’s when our readership just went up and up and people from all over the world began writing to us saying how much the writing (and Lola) inspired them.  That felt great!


Fiona: What inspired you to write your first book?

H.H.: After a few years of regularly writing and publishing for the blog, the manuscript of stories was into the hundreds of thousands of words.  Currently, as of today, the word count of only the published stories is 476,472.  That doesn’t include the words in the hopper ready for publishing on the blog, or the notes that have incomplete stories and fragments.  So, even though the stores didn’t have a narrative arc, and they were mostly a collection of stories with two main characters in each story, I thought, this is a good way to make access to the stories easier for people.  The blog navigation can be as confusing as it is easy, if that makes sense.  I didn’t spent time shopping the manuscript around since we already had a built-in fan base of over many thousands.  Unfortunately, the first volume, Match, Cinder & Spark: Nymphomania and the Single Girl, was rather lengthy and, in the hard-copy, we included a lot of high-quality, glossy photos.  That shot the price really high.  I didn’t realize how expensive it would be until the project was finished.  By that time, after all that work, I decided that I was just going to publish it as is, let the buyer pay for the book. It is a collector’s item, after all.  And, with some more work, I could publish an e-book version and sell it for literally 1/70 the price.  Unfortunately, at the time, the technology was not available for the photos to be included in the e-book, but that also meant that people all over the world could safely read it in public places, like the subway or on a plane or the airport, without fear that Lola’s pussy would suddenly pop up on the screen.  And if they wanted to see Lola’s va-jay-jay, they could always just do a Google search of mysexlifewithlola.com.

Fiona: How did you come up with the title?

Lola: Match, Cinder & Spark – He’s the “cinder,” that is, the fire that has passed its prime.  I’m the “spark”; the catalyst that sets things aflame.  Together, we’re a match.  I won’t say a perfect match, but one that is highly combustible. . . and hot!


Fiona: Do you have a specific writing style? Is there anything about your style or genre that you find particularly challenging?

H.H.: The writing usually comes very easy. It’s mostly quasi-autobiographical.  Lo provides the inspiration and a lot of the raw material for the stories and then I just take artistic liberties to craft it into a story that has some form.  But every once in a while I try to switch it up by trying out a new narrative style.  I once wrote a story called “Fuck Noir” and I tried, not too successfully, to adopt a detective novel narrative voice.  I was particularly fond of the last line, but that was all Lola’s doing. 


Fiona: How much of the book is realistic and are experiences based on someone you know, or events in your own life?

H.H.: Like I said, almost all of the book is based upon something in our lives, either individually or together.  We take pains to protect the innocent as well as the guilty, and I use poetic license to intersperse scenes out of sequence in order to tell a better story, but there’s very little there that didn’t actually happen. 


Fiona: To craft your works, do you have to travel? Before or during the process?

H.H.: Travel provides great material. There has never been a trip that we have gone on, either separately or together, that hasn’t produced at least one fun story. 


Fiona: Who designed the covers?

H.H.: I once wrote a story called “How My Girlfriend Became an Amateur Internet Porn Star” which is all about the design of the cover of our first book, Match, Cinder & Spark: Nymphomania and the Single Girl.  I had chosen some stock photo for the cover and when Lo saw it, she freaked.  “I go on the cover.  No one else.  Me.”  Well, from then on, I knew that any promo for the book or the blog had to be of Lo.  It meant a lot of photo taking by me (and some sexy selfies), but it’s truly a labor of love.

Fiona: Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

H.H.: Love yourself.  Love the one you’re with.  Love each other.  And if you’re single: Love yourself and love our blog and books. 


Fiona: Are there any new authors that have grasped your interest?  Who is your favorite writer, and what is it about their work that really strikes you?

H.H.: There are a lot of bloggers in our blogging community whose work I really love.  Too many to name them all, but a small sample includes: Cara Thereon of CaraThereon.com, Hyacinth of adissolutelifemeans.com, Nilla of Vanilla Mom’s Blog, just to name a few.

Lola: Also, lately I’ve really enjoyed TJ of The Lustful Empress, Nero Black and his eponymous blog, and lots of writers on Medium.com, most especially MyErotica run by Rose, and the columns by Madelaine Hanson. 

Madelaine Hanson


Fiona: Outside of family members, name one entity that supported your commitment to become a published author.

Lola: Actually, none of our family members know about this blog. But I’d say that Medium.com has done the most in that they pay their member authors for the content they create based upon some mysterious formula. I’m sure that they somehow make far more than the authors, but it’s more than other platforms provide. 


Fiona: Do you see writing as a career?

H.H.: Outside of the erotica that I write, I have a whole host of other works under my real name. One day, maybe after I’m dead, the truth will out and then it will become the unenviable task of others to reconcile the “legit” writing with the “scurrilous” works. That is, of course, if anyone cares. 


Fiona: If you had to do it all over again, would you change anything in your latest book?

H.H.: Well the latest book is just on the cusp of being published and so I’m trying to insure that it will be the best yet.


Fiona: Did you learn anything during the writing of your recent book?

H.H.: I learned how much I love Lola, not because she’s so incredibly sexy, so dirty in her thoughts, but because she is so incredibly funny.  Writing dialogue with her is so easy because our day-to-day lives together are full of amusing banter. We like to think of ourselves as like Nick and Nora Charles from The Thin Man movies.

Fiona: If your book was made into a film, who would you like to play the lead?

H.H.: Jeremy Irons. I think he is wonderful in the remake 1997 of Lolita. But he’s probably a bit old for the part now (though he’s in great shape).  Maybe Jeff Goldblum.

Lola: Amanda (Donaghey) George. She looks just like me.  Or maybe Sasha Grey, because she looks a bit like me and is willing to do anything.

Amanda George
Sasha Grey


Fiona: Any advice for other writers?

H.H.: Never take advice from a fellow writer.  They’re all full of shit.


Fiona: Anything specific you want to tell your readers?

H.H. & Lola: Thank you!!!

Fiona: What book are you reading now?

H.H.: John Gardner’s On Moral Fiction.

Lola: Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume IV: Sexy Shorts.

Lo in her “Sexy Shorts”

Fiona: Do you remember the first book you read?

H.H.: Erica Jong’s Fear of Flying. I stole it from the library and read all the sexy parts under the covers with a flashlight. 

Fiona: What makes you laugh/cry?

H.H.: Lola.

Lola: H.H.

Fiona: Is there one person, past or present, you would love to meet? Why?

H.H.: The Marquis de Sade.  He was absolutely versatile as a writer and a genius.

Lola: Brad Pitt because he has a huge cock and a great bod.  

Fiona: Do you have any hobbies?

H.H.: Boating.

Lola: Beach Volleyball. 

Fiona: What TV shows/films do you enjoy watching?

H.H.: We both love “Broad City.”

Lola: Magic Mike.

Fiona: Favorite foods, colors,  music?

H.H.: Lola has really expanded my pallet. 

Lola: I eat anything that casts a shadow. Favorite color: right now, turquoise.  Favorite music: local folk music.

Fiona: Imagine a future where you no longer write. What would you do?

H.H.: I think Hemingway got it right. 

Fiona: You only have 24 hours to live how would you spend that time?

H.H.: With Lola.

Lola: With H.H. and a room full of naked, sexy men and women fucking.

Fiona: What do you want written on your head stone?

H.H.: “Laugh”

Lola: “Look on my body of work, you beauties, and despair.”

Fiona: Do you have a blog or website readers can visit for updates, events and special offers?

H.H. & Lola: mysexlifewithlola.com