Category Archives: nympho

“J.O.I. de Vivre”

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Uh Oh, someone got busted looking at Lo’s tits while working from home!

 

For those few of you who might not know, “J.O.I.” stands for “Jerk Off Instructions.”  It’s a rather popular form of porn that has been part of intimate bedroom play for as long as there have been masturbators and  those who love to instruct them.  Lola has engaged in this special type of kink for a long time now – telling her friends and fans exactly how she wants them to cum to her, remotely or in person.  During the COVID lockdown, this became one of her favorite ways of getting herself off safely.

You also may recall our newlywed couple, Jane and Andrew, who discovered each other’s kinks on their wedding night.  Turns out Jane’s kink was reading Match, Cinder & Spark while denying Andrew and Andrew’s kink was wearing women’s lingerie while being denied by his bride. 

I’m happy to report that they found a way for them both to get off, using the tertium quid of Lola.

“Lola, Andrew has two work-from-home days next week.  Please tell us instructions for his torment,” wrote Jane.

“When he works from home, is he on Zoom?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, he should only be dressed from his waist up.  You should hang my photos all over the house.  Whenever he gets up – to get a coffee, to eat lunch – and walks past my photo, he must stroke until he is good and hard.  But he may not cum.  Take photos of it.”

“Excellent.  And on the second day?”

“On the second day, same, but at the end of the day you will stroke his hard cock to my photos and this time he is allowed to cum, but only by means of your touch.”

“Thank you, Lola!  You have no idea what this means to us!!!”

Lola sent them select photos for them to print out and frame.  Here are the results.

You should try this at home too and send Lo the results!

Baad Kiity!

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[WARNING: This post contains magical realism!]

Baad Kiity plays with her pussy while reading about Lola Down

 

It was a beautiful sunny summer morning.  Lola and I stepped out to go for a Sunday stroll when, out of nowhere, a black cat strutted down the street, right up to Lola’s feet, laid on its back, and practically demanded that Lola pet its belly.

Lola “pets the cat”

“You know that cat?” I asked, surprised by the forwardness of this feline.

“No,” said Lola as she crouched down to indulge the cat’s demand.

“Then why are you petting it?”

“A neglected pussy is a sad pussy,” she said.  She has a way with pithy phrases.  “Can we keep her?”

“What?  No.  That’s a feral cat.  Who knows where it’s been?  Who knows what diseases it carries?”

“Awe, come on Daddio.  Please.”

“No.  It’s an outdoor cat and outdoor cats belong outdoors.”

“I want to make her an indoor cat.”

“You can’t make an outdoor cat an indoor cat.”

“Yes you can, people do it all the time.”

“But why would you?”

“You know that being an outdoor cat takes like seven years off the cat’s life.”

“I’d much rather be an outdoor cat, free, than stuck inside, lying around all day, looking out the windows longingly.”

“You’d love to be an indoor cat and just lie around all day.”

“I couldn’t type with paws.”

“You’d have a little cat book you would read.”

“Well, maybe if it had pictures of pussies.”

Lola laughed at my one-track mind and she eventually got up and we left the cat to go for our walk.  We really thought nothing more of it.

Along our saunter through the sanguine streets of our neighborhood, we ran into a neighbor who made polite conversation with us.  At one point he turned to Lola and asked if she was still working from home.  Lola replied in the affirmative and proceeded to tell the neighbor about her routine.

“I wake up, pet the cat, have some coffee and then hop on Zoom.  I often try to interrupt the monotony throughout the day.  It’s far too easy to work straight through, so I put on my schedule a number of breaks for me to get off.  Pet the cat, take care of business, get all the tension out through a hysterical paroxysm.”

As we walked away from the confused interlocutor, I said to Lola, “Well, that was a new one.”

“What?  I’ve been saying hysterical paroxysm for years.  It’s an old-timey expression that not too many people know the meaning of.”

“I didn’t mean that, though he certainly either was ignorant of it or thought you must have made a malapropism.  I meant, ‘pet the cat.’”

“Oh, well, our little encounter made me think of that.”

“He knows we don’t have a cat.”

“Does he?  Well, I can pet the cat anyway.  I just did this morning.”

Now I was confused.  Did she mean she masturbated this morning or that she pet the stray cat we met this morning?  Probably both.  I let it drop.

When we got home, Lola hopped into bed and slid her panties down to her ankles and then over her feet and then to her toes before finally discarding them altogether.  “Fuck me Daddy,” she said, spreading her legs wide and lifting her skirt.  She smacked her pussy lips.

Lo “pets the cat”

“Not now, Darling,” I said, “later.”

“Why not now and later?”

“Why don’t you amuse yourself.  Pet the cat,” I said.  “I’m going to read for a bit.”

Imposters

I sat down in the cool living room, the windows open and a gentle cross-breeze blowing through the room.  It was delightful.  I got through about a page of the book by Joanna Bourke I had recently purchased when I heard Lo calling out from the bedroom, “Bad kitty!  Bad Kitty!” as she slapped her pussy harder and harder.  I could hear the wetness between her legs splashing with each slap of her open palm.  “Baad Kiity!” she moaned.

Baad Kiity

Suddenly, out of nowhere, on the bed, was the black cat we had seen earlier.

“What the fuck?!” cried Lo in astonishment.

Baad Kiity

Lo was in a uniquely vulnerable position and the feline was staring down her juicy crotch.  It peered up over her mons pubis and looked with its cat’s eyes at Lo.  It took two steps forward and Lo prepared herself for a full-frontal attack when suddenly the cat transmogrified into what appeared to be a sexy Cat Woman.  She wore a black leather mask with little cat ears and a matching red bra and panties.

Baad Kiity Clitty

“Who are you?” asked Lola in astonishment.

“I’m your Baad Kiity,” she said.

“Where did you come from?”

“I was by your front door this morning.  I’ve heard your howls in the night, in the day, basically all around the clock and I finally found you.  You spoke my magic name and here I am to lick your little clitty like I lap up a bowl of milk.”

Lola spread her legs and let Baad Kiity have at it.  She was instantly transported into another realm.

A few orgasms later and Lo, panting, struggling to stabilize her breath, asked, “Can I do anything for you?”

“Well, there is one thing I would like,” said Baad Kiity, licking Lo’s juices from her hands as if they were paws.

“Anything,” said Lo.

“Where I come from, I must content myself merely with my imagination.”

“Where do you come from?”

“That is not important.  What is important is I would very much like to have one of your books to amuse me when I play with my own Baad Kiity.”

“Which one?”

“Volume V: Shorter Shorts, please.”

Lo grabbed her copy from the shelf and gave it to the mysterious feline avatar.

“Thank you, Lo.  One sex superhero to another, I’m a big fan.”

And with that, the dark, stealthy, and sleek visitor sauntered out the bedroom, out the front door, and down the shadow-covered street, wearing merely a black bra, panties, and her black leather cat mask.  She carried the book with her.

Lo came from the bedroom, stark naked, and said, “Did you see that?!”

“I did,” I said, putting my book down.  “I think it may be best if we don’t talk of this to anyone.”

“Agreed,” said Lo.

[For more of the very fine, very feline Baad Kiity, check out her OnlyFans page here and here.]

Check her out!

Consolation Prize

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[Continued from Wing-Woman Wardrobe]

“What bar are you going to?” I asked Lo about her date with Jeremy.  To clarify, she was going to be his “wing-woman,” helping him to find a suitable companion in the aftermath of his recent divorce.

“What’s it to you?” she asked, indignantly as she sat in front of the mirror, nude, putting on her eyeliner.

“Well, you don’t have to be rude about it.  Am I being invasive if I would like to know where the love of my life is taking one of my good friends for drinks and to hook-up?”

“To be clear, yet again, I’m not the one who will be hooking-up with Jeremy.”

“Yes, I know that, but after your little performance trying to convince him to let you be his wing-woman, I have my doubts about whom Jeremy will be going home with tonight.  I imagine you won’t let him go home alone.”

“Not if I can help it.”

“So, where are you going with him?”

“I don’t think I’ll tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll probably show up there and spy on us all night.”

“Am I really that transparent?”

“Mr. Cellophane.”

“So what?  I’ll stay out of sight.”

“No you won’t.”

“I will.  Promise.  Please.”

“Fine, but only because I get turned on by you seeing me in action.”

“And I get turned on by seeing you in action.”

“I know that.  That’s what turns me on.”

“Glad we clarified that.  So, where are you taking him?”

Lola told me the name of a trendy club downtown.

“You’re not actually taking him there, are you?”

“Yes.  Why not?”

“It’s so loud with that house music and the BOOM-BOOM-BOOM.”

“You’re just old.”

“How can anyone talk with that blaring?”

“Darling, they don’t have to talk.  They’re interested in the BOOM-BOOM-BOOM,” she said as she got up and pretended to be fucking me, slamming her hips into my ass with each “boom.”

“Suit yourself, but I know Jeremy won’t like it.”

We discussed it some more and agreed upon a less loud bar that we’d been to before.

Lo dolled herself up, threw on black lace thong panties, a short black skirt, and a transparent white blouse.  She wore some sparkly costume jewelry and cute heels.  I wished I was the one going out with her, but realized that I’ll have just as good a time watching her from a distance.

Lo Getting Ready for her Date

The doorbell rang and Jeremy was nervously waiting at the door like a kid picking up his prom date.

I let him in.

“All set for your debut?”

“You can joke, but this is nerve wracking.”

“Come on in.  Have a drink or two and calm yourself down.  Lola’s just finishing up.”

Jeremy came into the living room and I asked him what stiff drink he’d like.  Whiskey, one ice cube.  Easy enough for any bartender.

As I was pouring my 13-year-old scotch, Lola’s resounding voice could be heard billowing from the bedroom.  She was at it again.  It’s one of her favorite parlor tricks for our guests.

I walked into the living room with two drinks in hand.  As I passed Jeremy his, he looked up at me with a grave face of concern.  “Is she ok?” he asked.

“Lola?” I replied with a calming smile.  “Yeah, she’s fine.  She’s just getting the lead out.”

“She’s what?”

“Taking care of business.”

He was still perplexed.

“She’s masturbating until she’s silly,” I finally blurted out.

“Come on,” he replied in disbelief.

“Go see for yourself.  I’m sure she’d like that.”

Her howls were still the background to our conversation.  But they were taking shape now into her usual masturbatory mantra of “Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

“And that should about do it,” I said to Jeremy.  “She’ll be out presently.”

About forty-five seconds later a flush Lola emerged into the living room, kissing Jeremy on the cheek.

“Hi, Lola,” he said rather embarrassed.

“Mind if I join you boys?” she asked, fixing herself a flute of champagne.

She sat in a chair next to Jeremy and very daintily placed one leg over the other as she drank.  I could see Jeremy admiring her sexy gams.  I wondered to myself if she crossed her legs because she was afraid she’d squirt if she didn’t.

We made some small talk until they both finished their drinks and then Lo gave me a little peck on the cheek and said, “Be good,” to me.

“Well, that’s no fun.”

She whispered, “And stay out of sight.”

That was her permission for me to show up at the bar to see her performance.

“Good luck,” I said to Jeremy.

“He won’t need luck,” interjected Lo, “He’s got me.”

I saw them get into his car and take off.

I quickly got myself dressed appropriately for a night out and sped off myself.

I heard from Lo after the fact that, on the way to the club, the following conversation took place:

 

Lola: You want me to jack you off?

Jeremy: What?

Lola: Jack you off.  You’re a bundle of nerves right now.  You need to relax.

Jeremy: Here, in the car, while I’m driving?
Lola: Yeah.  You never had road-head before?

Jeremy: Road-head?

Lola: Yeah, pull out your cock and I’ll blow you.

Jeremy: I think I’d crash.

Lola: Keep your eyes on the road.

Jeremy: I’ll pass.  It might make a mess.

Lola: Suit yourself.

Jeremy: Can I ask you a personal question?
Lola: Anything.  I love personal questions.

Jeremy: HH said that you were, uh, masturbating back at the house.

Lola: Yeah.

Jeremy: Is that true?

Lola: I wasn’t singing in the shower. Didn’t your ex masturbate?

Jeremy: Not that I know of.

Lola: Oh honey, no wonder she ran off with the plumber.

Jeremy: What do you mean by that?
Lola: She was so repressed.  She needed someone to unclog her pipe, if you know what I mean.

Jeremy: We had some regular sex.

Lola: Regular is boring.  Rough, ram-rod, raw-dog is what she needs.  Did she ever climax?
Jeremy: I don’t know.

Lola: Then that’s a no.

Jeremy: I grew up in a different era.

Lola: But women needed then what they need now.  Promise me that if you start dating again, you’ll come to me.

Jeremy: Come to you?
Lola: Yeah, for advice.

Jeremy: Oh.

Lola: What did you think I meant?

Jeremy: Nothing.

Lola: You thought I meant ‘cum to me,’ didn’t you?

Jeremy: Well, is that what you meant?

Lola: I wouldn’t be offended.

 

Road Head

They got to the bar.  Jeremy was hard under his pressed khaki pants.  Lola had teased him so.  But that was quickly replaced by nervousness and fear.  He hadn’t done something like this in over twenty years.  This wasn’t one of those super-trendy bars with the red velvet rope, the long line outside, the bouncer turning anyone away whom he thought didn’t add cache to the joint.  No, this was a regular bar in a desirable neighborhood that had a commanding view of our city.  The drinks weren’t cheap and the food was served on small plates.  The clientele had to be of a certain economic strata in order to afford it.  And that was Lola’s fatal flaw in her design for this evening.  Instead of taking Jeremy to some dive joint popular with the college age crowd, she took him to something that she knew would be upscale.  But, as a result, it meant that the only single women in the place were in their forties.  Maybe there were a few in their thirties.  But all the twenty-something women were on the arms of older men who could afford to treat their dates to a special evening.

I’m not judging or stereotyping.  I’m just describing what I saw.  Lo knows that she and I are frequently one of those December/May couples in an establishment like this.

Despite the fact that I had left the house after Jeremy and Lo, I arrived first.  My knowledge of the city streets is better than Jeremy’s navigation system.  I was inconspicuously hidden in a dark corner at a table for one.  I saw Lola confidently enter with Jeremy and I saw as she scanned the room for the optimal place to occupy with him for greatest effect and maximum visibility.  They took a spot at the center of the bar.  Lo ordered a fancy cocktail and Jeremy ordered a beer.  They were talking as if they were colleagues at work.  Lo was running her hand through her thick hair, smiling, and gently touching Jeremy’s elbow as she laughed.

At the club

I could see guys at the bar taking note of Lola.  More than one of them tried to chat her up, but she shut them down quick.

Jeremy looked stiff as a board, and not in a good way.  After a couple more drinks, they both were loosened up a bit.  So was the crowd.  More people filed into the already cramped bar area and eventually two women who were trying to order drinks near Lo and Jeremy struck up a conversation with them.  I couldn’t hear it, of course, but I later got the gist of it from Lola.

It turned out these two women were both in their forties and both newly divorced and trying to break into the dating scene.  Lo elicited all the information from them while masterfully directing their attention to Jeremy and attempting to remove herself from the equation by explaining that they are just friends.  But Lo overplayed her hand.  In order to fully dispel any doubt of her own intentions vis-à-vis Jeremy, Lo said she’s not into guys.

Oh boy, the eyes of the two women lit up!  Their conversation became animated.  They started regaling Lo with stories about flirting or kissing girls in college, always wanting to try it more, being married and confined by the marriage, and now, ready to explore new possibilities.

The two women were already quite intoxicated when they began talking with Lo and Jeremy.  Their inhibitions were down and their arousal at this young, fresh meat high.  They complimented and flirted with Lo, leaving Jeremy to watch dumbly.

Lo, for her part, cannot turn away from the attention.  And so, after a few paltry attempts to direct their interest toward Jeremy, Lo gave in.  Soon she was making out with one and then the other of the women, exchanging numbers, and, eventually, walking out with Jeremy.

On the ride home, Lo felt truly bad for her behavior.

 

Lola: I’m sorry about that.

Jeremy: About what?

Lola: The two women.  We came out for you, not me.

Jeremy: That’s ok.  I found it entertaining.

Lola: You like lesbians?

Jeremy: Who doesn’t?

Lola: You jack off to girl-on-girl porn?

Jeremy: [Uncomfortable.] Um, er, I have.

Lola: Are you hard now?

Jeremy: I’m driving.

Lola: I see that.  You can drive and be hard.

Jeremy: I’m. . .

Lola: [Feeling his crotch.]  Mmmm, you are hard.

Jeremy: There’s something about your voice.

Lola: That everything I say is dirty and depraved?

Jeremy: [Laughing.]

Lola: [Putting her right hand between her legs.] Did you want to see me with those two women?

Jeremy: I wouldn’t have objected.

Lola: Did your wife look at porn?

Jeremy: Ex-wife.

Lola: Did your ex-wife look at porn?

Jeremy: I told you, I don’t think so.

Lola: When you had sex, would she put her finger down on her clit and stroke it?

Jeremy: No.

Lola: Would she pull her pussy lips wide and stretch them out until it hurt?

Jeremy: No.

Lola: Would she curl her index finger up and inside her and finger herself when your cock was filling her up?

Jeremy: No.

Lola: Would she get so fucking wet that she could slide her entire hand inside and grab your cock while you fucked her?

Jeremy: No.

Lola: Would she beg you for another man to fuck her at the same time as you?

Jeremy: Never.

Lola: [Pulling out his dick.] You’re so hard right now.  That whole time at the bar must have made you so full-up.  Do you have blue-balls?

Jeremy: Uh.

Piss Slut

Just then they pulled up to the house.  Again, I was home before they and I pretended that I had never even left.  I was sitting on the couch.  I saw the car headlights outside.  Inside the car, Lola was climaxing.  She held Jeremy’s hand as she pressed her knees together tightly.  She squeezed Jeremy’s hand so firmly that he cried out.  Lo bit her lower lip.  When she finally relaxed, she turned to him and said, “I’m sorry for hurting you.  I was trying to hold it in.”

“Hold what in?”

“My squirt.”

“Squirt?”

“Yeah.  I didn’t want to leave a puddle on your seat.”  There was a long pause before Lo, realizing that Jeremy was thinking about leaving, said, “You can stay a while.  It’s a two-car garage, if you know what I mean.”

“I think I should go.”

“So soon?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Just go home.”

“And masturbate?”

Jeremy looked baffled at Lola.

“You can say it,” she coaxed gently.

“I might.”

“Why don’t you let me do it for you,” she said rather than asked.  She began to jerk his cock as he was in park.  Her mouth was very near to the tip of his cock.  She looked up at him.  “Do you wish you could have seen those two women hungrily and greedily fondling my naked body?  What do you think?  They each had two or three kids.  What do you think it would be like?  Them, with their sagging breasts, jealously pawing at my perky tits.  Sucking them.  Telling me to suck theirs.  One of them holding my ankles up in the air as the other buries her face in my bush.  Each of them telling the other to use me, to finger me, to fist me.  Maybe they had their own strap-ons and they wanted to take turns fucking me.  Maybe one wanted to fuck my cunt as the other fucked my ass.  What do you think?  How do you think I would like that?”

“I, I, I think you’d love that.”

Lola stroked faster.

“I totally would.  I’d like them to put a collar and leash on me and lead me around the house naked like a dog.  They could bring me to the bathroom and piss on me – in my hair, on my face, on my tits.  They could sit on the side of the tub and masturbate until they squirt on my body.  They’d call me their slut, their whore, their bitch.  They’d pull at my nipples and spank my ass.  One of them would hold my legs back as the other spanked my pussy.  They’d punish me for being young and beautiful.  They’d take out all their frustration on me.  You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Suddenly there was a massive ejaculation that shot from the tip of Jeremy’s cock to Lola’s face.  It wouldn’t stop spurting hot white cum all over her face.  It was as if he hadn’t cum for years!  Lola loved it!  He called out and moaned and pounded the ceiling of his car with his fist.

Finally, when he had calmed down, Lo sat back, her faced covered, her hair covered, her neck covered and dripping down her cleavage, and she said, “The icing on the cake!  HH will love this!”

“Oh shit,” said Jeremy, “HH.”

Lo laughed.  She repeated, “HH will love this.  Don’t worry.”

“You two have one strange relationship.”

“Not so strange.  You’ll see.  The world has changed a lot since you were single.”

“Well, Lola, thanks for a good night.”

“Sorry I had to be your consolation prize.”

“To be honest, you’re the one I wanted the most.”

“You’re so sweet!” said Lo as she leaned in and kissed Jeremy a long, open mouthed kiss, getting his own warm cum all over him.

“Good night,” she said as she hopped out of the car and walked in to greet me, the evidence of her evening covering her like a pearlescent halo that had melted.

“Hello Lo,” I said as she walked in.

She approached me and kissed me just as she had kissed Jeremy and then she dragged me to the bedroom to fuck her as she recounted for me every detail of the date, asking me, “Daddy, am I a slut?  Am I a total whore?  Am I bad?  Look at me, covered in another man’s cum.  Punish me.”  And through her mental masochism, she managed to bring herself to orgasm multiple times.

The cum on

Hind Hunting

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“Daddy, have me.”

“Get naked.”

“I’m naked, Daddy.  Have me.”

“Come here.”

She nuzzles up to me, putting her head and soft hair on my shoulder.  Her right hand reaches down for my hard cock.  She moves her head down toward it.  She opens her mouth and takes it in – wet, warm, soft, and loving.

She maneuvers to climb on top of me, straddle me, ride me.

“Hey, what’s the hurry?”

“I want it.”

“We got all night.”

“I want it in me, now.”

“Can’t we enjoy each other first?  A little stroll through the Garden of Good and Evil before going in for the kill?”

“Daddy,” she says as she lowers herself on my rod, “it needs it.  My pussy needs it.  My cunt needs to be filled.  I’m sorry.  Play with my titties,” she says as she bounces up and down.

I reach up and grab her breasts with both hands.

“Pull my nipples.”

I pull on them.

“Pinch them.  Pull them harder.  Make it hurt.”

I do as I am told.

“Pull them.  Really pull them.  Pull them down.  Make them sag.  Pull my nipples to my navel.”

I do as she says.  She moans a moan of pain and delight.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” she says after mere seconds.

“Lo, what were you looking at on your computer before coming to bed?”

She bites her bottom lip.  She’s not able to reply.  Her pussy squeezes me out and squirts like an overripe peach on the first bite.

Her fingers clutch my shoulders.  She lifts up her ass in the air.  She slides down my torso with her tongue out, licking up all she spilled on me in her exuberance.

She gets to my navel.  She pauses.  She falls asleep.

I push her gently onto the bed, sliding her off my still rock-hard cock.

“Lo,” I say, quietly, “Lo, I want you.”

From her dreamlike state she says, “Do whatever you want.”  She’s off to Never-Never Land.

I pull out a German porno mag from my nightstand drawer.  I open it up on her ass.  I compare her to Gili Sky, the porn star of the magazine’s centerfold.  I prefer Lola.  But the juxtaposition is nice.  I know Lola would prefer Gili and the three men Gili is with as well.

I try to jack it to the photos and Lo’s ass.  Lo’s ass looks too good to pass up.  I rub some lube on the tip and her target, take aim, and swoosh!  Direct hit.

Driving home the happy hunter, I lie down on her back and open the magazine and begin leafing through the pages, reading what I can in German.  It’s been a while.  Lo is motionless, soundless.  The lack of her longing for my donging diminishes my fervor.  I pull out.  As I do so, she says, almost from the depths of her depraved dream, “Al wanted some new photos.  Take some of me, Daddy.”

I’ve never seen a woman so eager for the camera and yet, so very very relaxed in front of it.

Lola and Gili Sky

I replace the book on her rear and snap a few for her long-distance lover.  Now I know what she was doing before coming to bed in a feeding frenzy.

Gili Sky Front, Lola Rear

The next day she wakes up chipper as can be.

“Sleep well, Darling?” I ask.

“Great!  You?”

“I wish I could say I slept hard.  But it’s more like I hardly slept because I was hard.”

“Awww, poor baby.  Didn’t you have me?”

“It’s not worth going into,” I say.  “You’ll read all about it anyway.”

“I hope so!”

“What’s for breakfast?” she asks, pulling at her nipples over the thin t-shirt she’s wearing.  “Wow!  My nips really hurt!  Kiss them better, Daddy.”

Lo in Lace

She lifts up her shirt and forces her breasts in my face.  I give them gentle kisses.

“Mmmmm,” she moans.  “Can I have you for breakfast?”

She drops to her knees in the middle of the kitchen, pulls down my pajama bottoms, and goes to town on my torpedo.

After she slurps down her morning smoothy, she gets up, wipes her mouth, and says, “Looks like a no pants, no panties, pussy party day at work for me!”

Introducing Elizabeth Wylde

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Elizabeth Wylde

“Lizzy, the book got returned,” Lola said as she sat on the couch, playing with her cooch.

I could hear Lizzy, that is, Elizabeth Wylde, on the other end of the phone let out a moan of disappointment.

“They won’t deliver to P.O. boxes.  What should we do?”

“Try this address,” said Lizzy, telling Lo where to have the book shipped.  “It’s my aunt and uncle’s house, but they won’t mind.”

Lo laughed.  “You sure?  What if they open it accidentally?”

Lizzy also laughed and said, “That would be a tough one to explain.”

About two weeks later the book, Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume IV: Sexy Shorts, arrived for Aunt and Uncle Wylde.  They didn’t open it, but they were curious.  They called Lizzy and she came over one Sunday to pick it up.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” asked Auntie Wylde.

“Nah, I know what it is.”

“What is it, Lizzy?”

“A book for work.”

“Work?” asked Uncle Wylde.

Now Lizzy got herself into it.  Lizzy’s work, you see, is sexy phone chat.

“Yes,” she responded, “work.”

“I thought you were out of work since the pandemic started,” inquired her aunt.

“I’ve picked up a job I can do out of the house.”

“Really?  And what is that?”

Lizzy had to think quick on her feet.  “Customer service. . . for BJs.  I make sure everyone gets what they want.”

“Oh, so I might get you next time a package is lost?”

“You might,” said Lizzy, laughing to herself.

“So, what is that?” asked her uncle, returning to the rectangular shaped package in Lizzy’s hands.

“Instruction manual.”

“Don’t they have that online?”

“Top secret.  The internet isn’t to be trusted,” said Lizzy.

Luckily, she managed to get out of that jam without opening the book in front of them.

She quickly drove home, stripped naked, hopped into bed, and opened up her literotically Lola paperback.

Just as she was about to feast upon the non-fiction fuckery, her work phone rang.  It was Henry, a regular client.  At his request, Lizzy told him exactly what she was up to.  He requested that she read to him.  She opened the book to the middle and began reading the story, “Home Entertainment.”  She had no idea what she was in for!  As the story progressed, Lizzy realized the taboo topic she had waded into and waded is the right word for she was very, very wet by this point.  She could hear Henry moaning on the other end of the line and soon enough both of them were climaxing together to the cadence of the chapter.

When she was done, she pulled out her laptop and added a line to her brief bio:

            Hi, I’m Elizabeth Wylde – a sexy, crazy, caring, fun-loving girl who provides erotic phone conversations.  I’m a sex addict who channels my issues through making explicit adult content.  I love being watched and turning people on, getting them hot, making them cum.  In some weird way it’s an exciting accomplishment just knowing that you blow a huge load or squirt by fantasizing about little ole me!  Give me a call for some sexy talk or, if you want, I’ll read you a taboo tale from Match, Cinder & Spark – my favorite collection of literary smut.

When she was done, her phone rang again.  It was Henry coming back for more.

 

HERE is Lizzy’s LINKTREE and a few fun photos too!

Lizzy Reads Match, Cinder & Spark

 

 

Lizzy and Lo

Cum to the photos, stay for the story.

A view from behind

Lizzy is waiting for your call.

Toon of Lizzy

The Real Deal

Lizzy is ready

toon time fap

toon time fap no panties

Don’t you want this ass?

This ass wants you!

Lizzy & Lo

Lizzy & Lo

Pachu M. Torres – Art & Literature Collaboration

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We are so excited to announce our new collaboration with the renowned artist and illustrator, Mr. Pachu M. Torres!

For years we have been following his work and, though Lola hasn’t been the actual model for him (but perhaps she has been the inspiration for some of his works), his art reflects something of Lo’s inner essence.

You can expect quick little vignettes of word and image like the one below. We’d love to hear your thoughts.

xoxoxoxo,

Lola & HH

Image – Pachu M. Torres
Words – HH

Game Day Highlights

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It had a been a long time since Lola had seen the brothers from across the street – Roy and Gary.  Well, to be honest, she had “seen” them, but only seen them around the neighborhood.  A cordial wave hello while walking home or a polite smile if we passed them in the local supermarket was about all interaction she had had with them since she and Meri worked out their intricate plan to swap brothers for children.  That strategy worked to perfection.  Meri got to have a threesome with boys the age of her children and Lola, while taking care of the males of Meri’s household, got out of the tedious sex she had been having on a regular basis with Roy and Gary.  She had grown bored of being their pandemic call of booty.

They had reached out frequently, requesting use of Lo’s services or, at least, to service her holes.  But she had rebuffed them.  Eventually they got the message.  Things began to open up in the summer, post-vaccinations, and we imagine the boys went back to seeing their friends and girlfriends, then to college in the fall.

Omicron struck in December when the boys were back home for winter break and their over-protective mother shuttered them in the house once again.

Now it was January and both their colleges were having a delayed in-person start, opting instead for remote learning for the first two weeks of classes.  That meant the boys were home and caged in for another half month.

Knowing how much the brothers enjoy football and imagining how they must feel pent up in that house (in more ways than one), Lo reached out to their mother and asked if it would be ok for the boys to watch the playoffs at our house.  Of course, Lo only asked my permission – or rather, informed me of her arrangement – after the mother had agreed.  That mother loves Lo.  In her eyes, Lo can do no wrong.  If she only knew. . .

The brothers came over and from the moment Lo met them at the door, their lust for Lo was palpable.  Lo had no intention of falling back into the sibling cycle of sex again, but she simply cannot help herself from being seductive, salacious, and so very sexy.  Lo decided to get into the spirit of football by wearing knee-high striped socks with tight pink shorts and an oversized football jersey that she stole from my drawer.

For those of you who don’t know, the playoffs lasted three weekends in a row.  Each weekend consisted of at least two games.  The brothers were at our house, high-fiving, yelling, screaming, and generally displaying their over-the-top testosterone levels for all three weekends, multiple hours at a time.  Lo did nothing to relieve their tension.  Rather, she only made the tightly twisted libidinous drive that tugged at their testicles even more taut.

Over the course of many hours, I curiously observed the boys’ interactions with Lola as the football announcers called the play-by-play.  Though we were all watching the game on the TV, I couldn’t help but imagine that the commentary was about something else.  What follows are direct quotes (in italics) from the games in a highlight reel.

 

Announcer 1: Welcome to Sunday Night NFL All Access.  That stands for ‘Now Fucking Lola’ All Access.

Announcer 2: These players have been eyeing each other for weeks now.  There’s a lot of frustration in the room.  The strategy has to be for one to pound that front and the other to get penetration in the back. 

Announcer 1:  I couldn’t agree with you more.  He really has to open up that hole.

Announcer 2: Well, the game is underway and it is his first penetration and it’s really deep!

Announcer 1: Wow!  That’s a really big shot!

Announcer 2: No doubt, those two will hook up again.

Announcer 1: If this isn’t going to be a blow out, they will have to fill that gap.

Announcer 2: Look at that, an amazing turnaround.  He was able to punch it in!

Announcer 1: They’re in a position to tighten this thing up.

Announcer 2: Looks like he’s able to get back on top of it.

Announcer 1: And now they’re double teaming.

Announcer 2: It’s a touchback!

Announcer 1: Yes, they just swooped the back end.

Announcer 2: He’s going deep!

Announcer 1: Another nice hookup.

Announcer 2: Terrific ball skills.

Announcer 1: This is going to be a real contest.  It’s a match, blow-for-blow.

Announcer 2: But wait!  What’s this?  A fumble!  Sacks are great, but strip sacks are even better!

Announcer 1: Great ball placement.

Announcer 2: And on the first play, some razzle-dazzle Hollywood style!

Announcer 1: They’re just having their way now.

Announcer 2: Those are some uncanny ball skills.

Announcer 1: That’s about as hot as it gets.

Announcer 2: He has amazing hands.

Announcer 1: He is hot, especially in the red zone.

Announcer 2: He snuck it into the end zone!

Announcer 1: Looks like he spiked it!

Announcer 2: Another booming finish!!!

Lola’s team uniform

All this testosterone fueled banter, excitement, and physicality had spurred not only the brothers into a sexual frenzy, but also Lola.  By halftime of the last game, she wanted someone to score.  But Lola’s nature is to avoid zero-sum games.  She prefers when everyone wins.  In that spirit, she lined up all us people with penises on the couch, sitting facing forward and the TV.  I was in the middle and Gary and Roy were on my left and right, respectively.  Lo had all three of us pull our pants down around our ankles.  She was wearing her black, silk negligee and nothing else.  She got down on her knees and between each of our knees to fluff each of us up one at a time.  Then she gently, slowly descended her derrière down on my cock as her cunt was dripping with anticipation of finally being filled.

Securely seated on my lap, she reached out her left and right hands to grasp Gary and Roy by their uprights and, as she bopped and bounced on my pole like a cheerleader, she encouraged the brothers with her offensive holding.

Sure enough, first one, then the other reached the goal line.

Lo continued her halftime routine on me until she was able to coax me offsides into a neutral zone infraction.

She stood up, my ejaculate dripping down her inner thigh, and she looked at the three of us, spent and sidelined, and she said, “I just love full-contact sports.”

Lola’s Suited Up for the Big Game