Category Archives: Nymphomania

Alliterative Agony

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[The mini-series “Mount Bliss” continues from “I do it dirtier.”]

I admit, I had been sleeping for untold hours when I finally heard Lo’s sweet whispers coaxing me to awake.  “Daddy.  Daddy.  Are you up Daddy?”

Her hand was caressing my chest.  Her bare leg was draped over mine.  She was all sex.  All desire.  All mine.  Forget that last bit.  She certainly wasn’t all mine physically, but she knew whose bed to return to at night.

My eyes opened.  Her hair was wet, her body was hot.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” she said softly in my ear between nibbles on my earlobe.  “I’ve been a bad, bad girl.”

“Fuck me, Daddy. I’ve been a bad girl.”

She could feel me getting hard in her hand.  She liked that I reacted to her.  She enjoyed her power.

“Get on your back.  Spread your legs.  Open your pussy.”

“It’s open, Daddy.  And wet.”

She wasn’t wrong.  I slid in deep.  She moaned.  I think she might have climaxed with that very first penetration.  But it wasn’t the climax of her climaxes.

“Where have you been?” I asked, whispering in her ear as I conjoined with her.

After a moment of deep breathing, she began telling me the story that I have just related to you, dear reader.  Her narrative was punctuated repeatedly by her orgasms.

When she was done telling me about her golden shower with Collin, she then said, “Are you disappointed in me?”

“No.”

“Am I disgusting?”

“No.”

“Am I a sick, worthless, slut?”

“No, Lo.”

“Yes, yes I am,” she insisted.

“Yes, no, either way, I love you.”

“I am bad,” she said.  “Defiled, degraded, debased, dirty, depraved, dishonored, deflowered, debauched, dissolute, disgusting, dirty, a dick-hungry cum bucket.”

With each alliterative self-depreciating descriptor, I thrust harder into her as if punishing her for her shame.

“And I love you,” I said when she was done.

She had climaxed her climactic climax and now she was crying into her pillow.  “No,” she said, “I’m not worthy of love.  I’m not worthy of anyone or anything.  I’m a sick, fat, fuckhole.”

“Lola,” I said, caressing her back as she wept heavy, body heaving sobs into the pillow.  Her body convulsed much like it did when orgasming, but now she was weeping.  “I love you.”

She had to get it all out and then, after many minutes of the tears streaming from her eyes like the juices had from her pussy just a little while ago, she finally took some deep breaths, put her head on my chest, and just let me hold her.  She fell asleep like that, peaceful in my arms.

“I do it dirtier”

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[The mini-series “Mount Bliss” continues from “Girlfriends.”]

Lo was just about to walk out of Suzanne’s room, finally, when Suzanne called to her, “Lo.  One more thing.”

Lo turned around.  Suzanne had removed the comforter from her bed and put it in Lo’s arms.  “Drop this in the laundry please.”

Lo didn’t ask questions.  She could feel the cum from me leaking out of her ass and also some from her earlier encounter leaking from her pussy down the inside of her thigh.

That parting word from Suzanne further exacerbated Lo’s misgivings about this newly formed “friendship.”

Lo walked down the dark hallway to the laundry area, dropped the comforter in the machine, and then began walking back towards the room we were sharing, but her return to my side got interrupted.  Collin appeared from out of the darkness, holding in his hand a tumbler of scotch on the rocks.

“How’d that go?” he asked in a whisper.

After the initial fright of seeing him, Lo burst into tears in his arms and cried.  To his credit, he held her and comforted her.  He then led her to his room, not mine.  Foiled again.

In his spacious bedroom, Lo said she wanted to shower.  She repeated her performance of the previous night, stripping down in front of him and getting clean in the open-plan shower as he watched from the bed.

Just after she had turned off the water, he stood next to her holding a plush towel for her.  She took it, dried off and then he held her naked body and kissed her.

“Lo, how I wish I could. . .”  He trailed off.  He kissed her passionately and she reciprocated.  Out of force of habit or sheer lust, she removed his clothes until he was naked.  She dropped down to the floor, her knees by his feet, her mouth by his flaccid cock.  She remembered Suzanne’s words, “a man who pursues power.”

Lo, in her complex psychology, not only wanted to give Collin the feeling of power that his impotent phallus couldn’t provide, but, in so doing, gain the upper hand.  All Lo’s life she had used her body, her sexuality, her physicality, her animalistic lust, and her intellect to dominate men.  She liked the feeling of superiority that her feminine allure gave her over weak, needy, desperate men.  Knowing that a simple yet mysterious glance, an inadvertent caress, an apparently careless reveal could put a man fully in her power pleased her.  She didn’t have to sleep with him to experience the high of this advantage.  It was satisfying enough to know her relative position vis-à-vis men without being in the physical position of dominating them.  But, the sex was often an added bonus.

Perhaps that was why she not only liked or loved me, but remained with me.  I was the only man who dared say no to her.  I was her great challenge.  And loving other men was just one of the tools she used to keep me cumming to her.  Simultaneously, my permissiveness and apparent lack of jealousy and independence of her was her Everest.  I knew full well that the day I forbade her her freedom, denied her her sexual denizens, or revealed any indication of my being beholden to her magical spell, that would be the day that she would move on to a bigger challenge.

I digress.  Lo had found a way to build Collin’s deflated ego through the use of his droopy dick, the source of his diminished self-esteem.

Lo sat on the floor of the shower, spread her legs wide, leaned back, supporting her weight with her arms, and looked up at Collin.  “Grab it,” she commanded.

“What?”

“Grab it.”

Collin reached down and held his sloping shlong in his right hand.

“Aim,” instructed Lo.

“What?”

“Point it at me and shoot.”

Now Collin caught on.

“Use it.  Drench me.  Disgrace me.  Degrade me.  Cover me in your urine.  Soak me in your pee.  Humiliate me in your hot piss.”

Lola began fingering her hole as Collin confidently released his stream, raining down on Lo’s head, hair, face, chest, tits, tum, and pussy.

“Come on!” she said, opening her mouth.  “Just like at the amusement park.”

He got it in, filling her up until he ran out of ammunition.

Ready, Aim, Fire!

“You like that?” she asked him.

“That was. . . crazy,” he said, clearly stunned by the sloppy slut slipping and sliding on the tiles by his feet.

She slithered toward him and stretched her wet hands up his legs to his cock and took it in her mouth.  No response, as she suspected.  But she enjoyed it nonetheless.

She stood, rubbing her wet body against his hard body and then kissed him, open mouth, while simultaneously cupping his balls in her right hand.

“Whatever Suzanne does,” she said in an authoritative whisper, “I do dirtier.”

She knew she had him in her power now.  Even if he couldn’t get it up, showing his appreciation with his rigid manhood, or cum for her like a suppliant pouring forth tribute, she knew he was hers.  She had conquered her quest.  She had ascended the top of Mount Bliss.

[Note from us: We are approaching the last few installments of the Mount Bliss mini-series. Have we lost you? Are you still enjoying this? We see many of you click the “like” buttons, but not many comments. Let us know your thoughts please.]

Girlfriends

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[The Mount Bliss mini-series continues from Craving Attention.]

“What do you want?” demanded Lo, watching Suzanne pace as she ignored the pleas of her prey.

Finally Suzanne walked right up to Lo and looked at her eye-to-eye, took her hand, and said, “There’s only one thing I want.  It’s the one thing I can’t have.  The one thing you can give me.  But, under the circumstances, I don’t even know if it’s possible.”

“What?” asked Lo, exasperated by the suspense.

“I want your friendship.”

“What?!” asked Lo in a completely different tone.  She couldn’t have been more taken aback.

“I have no friends.  I mean, yes, I have ‘friends,’ but no one who really knows me.  No one I feel I can be completely honest with.  No one who knows about me and Collin.  No one who knows. . . .”  She trailed off.  Lo knew what she meant.  “You and I, we have something in common.  I don’t care what Collin does with you.  He’s only causing more suffering for himself, the poor thing.  I don’t care how attractive, sexy, slutty, or young you are.  The truth is, I not only admire you in a lot of ways, I actually like you.  Now that we’ve gotten all this out in the open, I just want to have one person that I can confide in.  One person who won’t judge me.  One person I can trust.”

Lo was confused, but Lo’s defining characteristic, besides her libido, is compassion.

“You know, Suzanne, trust doesn’t grow out of blackmail.  It’s not something that can be forged by fear or created by coercion.”

“I know, I know,” said Suzanne taking Lo’s hands in hers.  “I didn’t mean to threaten you.  It’s just that. . . you and I are on equal footing.  You and I are cut from the same cloth.  I was trying to point that out, that’s all.”

The truth was that Lo sensed their underlying kinship the first time she met Suzanne.  But now things had changed.  Now she felt a pang of déjà vu, reminding her of her childhood friend with whom she had had a secret sex pact concerning their mutual experience of puppy love.  The sensation filled her with mixed feelings.

“It’s always better to enlist an ally than anger an enemy,” Lo said to me when she recounted the conversation with Suzanne.

Lo accepted Suzanne’s strange offer of camaraderie and then, with a tepid hug and kiss, bade her good night.

Craving Attention

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[The Mount Bliss mini-series continues from Will You Come With Me?.]

Collin led Lo down the hall and up the stairs to Suzanne’s bedroom.  They were about to enter when Lo stopped, realizing where they were.

“What’s the matter?” asked Collin.

“I don’t want to go in there,” said Lo.

“It’s ok,” he said.  “She was belligerent earlier.  She had had too much to drink.  But she wants to apologize to you as well.  She asked me to bring you here so she could do so in person and in private.”

He opened the door.

To Lo’s surprise, he didn’t go in with her.  She felt like she was being led to the lion’s den.

Shadow and Bandit, who had been at the foot of the bed, immediately stood up and ran to Lola, sniffing her crotch with great interest.

Lo walked in furtively.  She pet the dogs on the head, both to be friendly and in an attempt to keep them at bay.  Suzanne was sitting in a reading chair next to the bed nursing a drink.

“Sit,” she said.

Lo didn’t know if it was a command to the dogs or an invitation intended for herself.  As a result, she felt at an embarrassing disadvantage.

“Me?” she asked, upset that the first interaction they had in this exchange was a confusion about whether Suzanne was talking to Lo or the dogs.  It put Lo and Suzanne on very unequal footing and Lo couldn’t help but think that it was intended to do so.

“Yes.  Have a seat.”  The only place to sit was on the bed.

“That’s ok,” said Lo.  She stood awkwardly, like a schoolgirl who had gotten in trouble and was asked to stay for detention before the teacher.

The dogs were by her.  Bandit, the taller of the two dogs, was licking her ass.  Shadow licked the droplets that had oozed down to Lo’s ankles.  Lo didn’t know how to stop them or to stop the leak from between her legs.  She squeezed her ass cheeks tightly.

“No, really.  Sit,” said Suzanne.

Lo sat on the edge of the bed.  Bandit and Shadow crowded between her legs, trying to get their snouts up and in there.

“Stop it you two!” said Suzanne to the dogs.  “I don’t know what’s gotten into them.  They’re crazy about you.”

Lo tried to shut her legs, unsuccessfully.

Suzanne pulled the dogs back.

“It’s my fault,” she said.  “I spoil them.  That’s why I asked you to come here.  I wanted to apologize for Shadow’s atrocious behavior earlier.”

“It’s ok,” said Lo, flatly.  She wanted the apology to be over with already.  The amends were worse than the offence.

“You see,” began Suzanne, “ever since Collin’s unfortunate accident, I’ve been bereft of his spousal consortium, as the courts put it.”

“He hasn’t been able to fuck you,” said Lo bluntly.  She didn’t like Suzanne and she definitely didn’t like that she was being treated like a hostage in Suzanne’s room at the moment.  She tried to turn the tables on her.

“Yes,” said Suzanne without emotion.

“There are other methods of partners sharing intimacy,” added Lo, switching to her helping mode.

“As you no doubt have found,” began Suzanne with more than a hint of accusation in her voice, “Collin is hardly capable of intimacy.  He is a man of means, a person who pursues power, a physically imposing presence.  All things I found attractive about him before the accident.  But the accident changed everything.  It was hell seeing him disabled.  Living with him was unbearable.  But, to his credit, he was not only a self-made man, he was self-made twice!  He remade himself after the accident, in every way except one.  And that one deficit has defined him.  It eats away at him.  He has a terrible need to be everything he once was and is crushed by the disappointment that in the way that mattered most to him then is lost to him now.”

“I can understand that, but there are other ways to. . .” began Lola.

“He’s a tyrant!” interrupted Suzanne.  “He can’t connect.  He won’t allow me to have another man, or many men, like you,” she said.  She again sounded accusatory.

“How do you know about me?” asked Lola.

“Lily,” said Suzanne, simply.

Of course.

“Lily is and has always been madly in love with Collin, and with good reason,” said Suzanne.  “He treats her like a daughter.”  There was a long pause.  “Better than a daughter.  Almost like a daughter and a mistress.  Don’t get me wrong, there was never anything untoward about his relations with her.”

Oh no, she just has lured female companions to him like a procuress.

“He has shown her the attention she craves and she has reciprocated by trying to please him in every way.”

“So why wouldn’t she just bring young studs back here to fuck you?”

Suzanne laughed, amused at Lo’s innocence.  “Haven’t you heard what I’ve been saying?  That would be a double insult to Collin.  First to his ego and second to his relationship with Lily.  He has to be the center of attention.  He has to be the alpha-male.  He can’t handle any other man, even a young man, fucking his prized possession.”  She said this with great irony since, rather than be treated as a prized possession, she was treated as a prisoner within her gilded cage.

“But he’s ok with. . .”  Lo didn’t continue the sentence.  She just looked down at the two hounds that lay at Suzanne’s feet.  They immediately perked up their ears and gave looks of anticipation to Lo, hoping that her noticing them meant that she’d play with them soon.

“Lola, Collin is the alpha-male.  The fact that I have needs, that I’m beholden to my body, that I stoop so low, only feeds his own ego.  He delights in my desperation.”

“Then leave.  Leave him.  Leave this.  Get a life.”  Lo finally said what she had wanted to say since she first met Suzanne, or at least since she first heard rumor of the “special understanding” that Suzanne and Collin had.

Again Suzanne laughed a sad, humorless laugh that rang out like a bell tolling the knell of defeat.  “Bless your little heart,” she said, allowing her southern accent to emerge.  “If I only could.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because, Lola, he’s right.  I am desperate.  I am beholden.  I am pitifully and pathetically attached to him in more ways than one.  With him, let’s face it, I get everything I want, except one thing.  And that can easily be replaced,” she said, rubbing the fur of Shadow with her bare foot.

“One thing?!” shouted Lo.  “It’s way more than one thing.  It’s not just sex.  It’s intimacy.  A partner.  Companionship.”

Before she could go on, Suzanne stood up and began to pace.  The dogs watched her every move carefully.

“Forget all that,” said Suzanne, taking a sip of her drink.  “I have wealth, status, amusements,” she said, putting her hand on Lo’s shoulder.

Lo looked up at her, genuinely terrified.  She wasn’t going to be talked down to, so she stood up, uncomfortably close to Suzanne who still was a head taller than Lo.

“You’re not interested in getting out,” Lo decried.  “You two are co-dependent.  You get what you want and he gets what he wants.  You. . .”  Lo was going to say, “You like it,” but she got cut off.

“Call it whatever you want,” said Suzanne.  “He abuses me and I take the abuse.”

“You’re not the victim in all this,” said Lo, confronting her.  “You just want to play one.”

“What the hell would you know about it?  You have your cuckold of a man who lets you whore your way from door-to-door.  It works for you.  You are in no position to judge.”

“I’m not judging, Suzanne.  I’m just. . .”

“You think you’re so smart.  You got it all figured out.  You’re what, all of twenty-four, twenty-five?  You think you know how things work, how people work.  Well, you’ve got a lot to learn.  A lot.”

Suzanne’s sinister streak was making its appearance again.  Lo was on edge.  She didn’t want to be there in the first place.  This was supposed to be an apology to her, but now she was on the receiving end of Suzanne’s invectives.

“I don’t have to take this,” she said.  “I’m your guest and, until today, you’ve treated me very well.  But I don’t have to take this.”

“My guest?  Did I invite you here?  No.  Collin did.  Collin and his little niece, Lily.”  She said “niece” like it was a curse.  “You’re just pretty decorations, like his art or his wallpaper.  You just brighten up the room for him.  You’re not my guest.”

Lo began to walk toward the door.  Suzanne got in front of it, blocking her exit.

“Did you like it?” asked Suzanne.

“What?”

“You know what.”

. . .

“I don’t have to answer to you,” said Lo.  They were looking eye-to-eye, but Suzanne had a height advantage, especially because she was in heels.

“I see you.  I see who and what you are.”

“And I see you too,” said Lo right back to her.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

In a whisper, Suzanne said, “I can’t leave him.  He has evidence.”  She drew out the final sibilant of “evidence” in a way that caused Lo to think of the snake in the Garden of Eden.  Lo was frozen by Suzanne’s sinister look.  “And now,” Suzanne added, “I have something on you too.”

“What do you want?” asked Lo, very scared of what Suzanne might be capable of doing.

“What do you think I want?”

A thousand different blackmail scenarios played out in Lo’s mind.  But it was impossible for her to see into the depths of Suzanne’s dark eyes.  She was inscrutable.

Lo waited.  Suzanne moved from blocking the door.  She knew she had a captive audience now and didn’t need to use any physical barriers to prevent Lo’s departure.  She took her time and walked around the room as she spoke, her heels clicking on the wooden floor.

[For unabridged, please send an email requesting it: downloladown@gmail.com]

Will You Come With Me?

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[The Mount Bliss mini-series continues from I Want to Drown in Lola Down.]

 

She licked my lance from tip to taint with a worshipful devotion before turning on her side and pressing her caboose into my pelvis.  She moaned, “Slide back in my ass, Daddy.  That’s where I want you to cum.”

In I pierced her from behind without the slightest bit of resistance.  She and I were both saturated by her super soaker and the spunk of her previous coital conjunction.

I was deep inside her and ready to fulfill her wishes when suddenly there was a knock at the door to the bedroom.

We both froze.  We listened intently.  Silently.  Another furtive knock.  Rap, rap rap.

In the still muted darkness I could feel my heart pounding and the pulse of my blood throbbing through my swollen saber lodged deeply in Lo’s spare sheath.  Pump, pump, pump.  Each heartbeat felt like a violent thrust inside her.

To my astonishment, Lola said quietly but confidently, “Come in.”

The door opened slowly and silhouetted in the frame was the unmistakable outline of Collin.  He stepped into the room and approached Lola’s side of the bed.  He walked slowly, probably because he had difficulty seeing in the sudden darkness.  He stood over the two of us, imposingly.

“I’m sorry to disturb you like this,” he said in a hushed tone.

If I disliked him before, I despised him now.

“What’s up?” asked Lo.

My cock was up, up inside her hooha, waiting to climax in a spectacular array of orgasmic delight.

“I just wanted to apologize,” he said slowly.

Couldn’t this just wait till morning?

Lo didn’t ask what he was apologizing for.  She patiently kept silent and allowed him to continue at his own pace.  For once he was fumbling for words.

“You see, uh, I’m not sure how to explain this.  But.  Suzanne.  She and I.”

Get on with it!  I am a man on a mission.

“Here, sit,” said Lo, pulling the covers back to reveal her naked body.  She shoved her ass further into my pelvis to make room for him.  I felt my cock penetrate parts of her that it had never probed before.

Collin sat down as Lo’s breasts, tum, and pussy were all exposed to him and I, the big spoon, was cuddling her from behind, conjoined to her body through her anus.

“What is it, Collin?” she asked kindly, touching his hand.  “You can tell me anything.”

“Well, Suzanne and I.  You know that we haven’t had marital relations for many years now.”

This was news to me.

“And you know why,” he continued.

No, I don’t know why.  But Lo just looked at him with gentle understanding.

“Go on,” she said.

“Well, for many of those years she. . . well, you can probably guess.”

Come out and say it, I thought.

“Anyhow,” continued Collin, “I wanted to apologize for her.  Her behavior.  And for Shadow.  I’m very sorry all that happened.”

“It’s ok, Collin,” said Lo, taking his hand and putting it on her naked body just above her hip.  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

He’s apologizing to you!  Why would you do anything for him?

Collin looked at me.  His eyes had adjusted to the dim light.  “HH,” he said, “You have a good one here.  A really special lady.  Don’t let her get away.”  As he said that, he caressed her breast.

“Let her get away?” I asked.  “You say that as if I have her locked down like a caged animal.  The reality is quite the opposite.”

“Yes,” purred Lola as Collin squeezed her bosom.  “Kiss me,” she instructed him.

He leaned over and kissed her.  Her ass jutted back, taking more of my cock, if that was possible.

She gave him a long, open mouthed kiss and I could feel her muscles clench around my cock.  Collin was clearly enraptured by Lo’s pure sexuality.  As they continued to kiss, I exploded deep inside her.  I could hold out no longer.  The pent-up energy from a week of celibacy was too much for me to bear.  I could feel the warm wetness that I had injected into her surrounding my cock.  She felt it too and her hand moved up Collin’s strong arm and gripped his bicep firmly as she clenched her ass, clutching my cock, squeezing every last drop out of it.

It was not how I had hoped to consummate our reunion.

“Will you come with me?” asked Collin, unaware apparently that I had just cum in her.

“What?” asked Lo.  She probably thought he had asked her to cum with him.  Hard to tell if the words are not written on the page.

“Come with me,” he repeated.  “I want to show you something.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Is it ok, HH?” Lo asked, turning her head over her shoulder to look at me.  It was really just a formality.  She knew what I’d say.  Do I ever deny her anything?

“Sure,” I said, trying to conceal my resentment.

Lo began to move forward and I slowly slid out of her ass as she released me.  I flopped out of her and she dribbled a bit on me from her ass as her anus simultaneously made a sloppy slurping sound.

I could see her gingerly maneuvering her legs over the side of the bed.  She stood up, naked, and kept her legs and ass cheeks clenched tightly as she slid on her thong panties and slipped into a sheer beach coverup.

“Be back soon,” she said, as she turned to blow me a kiss.  I imagine that she leaked right over that little thong of hers, down her legs.

She shut the door behind her.

 

Interview With a Nympho

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Working from home? Enjoy mysexlifewithlola as you do.

[I, Lola Down, recently was asked to do an interview about my sex-life under lockdown. Even though HH just wrote an article about it for Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine, I was happy to give an interview in my own words. It ended up on the cutting room floor, but here it is for your reading pleasure.]

1. How has your sex life changed since practicing social distancing?

My sex life with my man, HH, is pretty much the same. I mean, we have lots of time together and, actually, that’s been great for both of us. But, to fill you in on our relationship, he’s in his fifties and I’m in my mid-twenties. His libido isn’t quite where mine is. In fact, he says that my libido outstrips that of a teenage boy. Well, maybe he’s right. So between us, things have remained the same — about once or twice a day. However, with “social distancing” (which is really physical distancing since I am still very social, just physically distant) I cannot meet men and women in person like I used to. HH and I have an understanding. I’m given free reign (to be a ‘hotwife’) and he saves himself for me. But now, all my hotwife activity is only virtual — through email (downloladown@gmail.com) or tweet or other social media. There’s a lot of men and women out there who are trapped. Either they’re alone or they are with partners that don’t satisfy them. They’re happy to find me.

Caught!

2. What is it like when you do decide to leave your apartment, flat or home?

Where we are, when we go out it’s probably much like where you are. People walking around or jogging or biking. Some have masks on, some don’t. I get really upset at those joggers who sneak up on you and don’t have a mask on and they come within a foot of your personal space. Go jog somewhere else! You know? Shopping is a pain, but you know, as they say, we’re all in this together. I can’t complain any more than the next person.

3. How do you control your urges or cravings on a daily basis?

Working from home makes it easy. Simply put, I don’t have to “control my urges or cravings” as much as I would at work. I can simply hop into the bath, turn on the warm water, spread my legs and have a little mid-day me-time. No sneaking around to the office supply closet or an empty bathroom.

Lola Social Distancing

4. What is the hardest part of being a sex addict in quarantine?

Am I a sex addict? Like Jessica Rabbit says, “I’m not bad. I’m just drawn that way.” HH depicts me as a sex-craved nympho. I just think I’m sex-positive with a healthy libido. I think that this “social distancing” is as draining on me as anyone. I thrive on social interaction. The other day I woke up and turned to HH and said, “I had such a vivid dream. I was at a restaurant and had just finished an excellent meal and a great cocktail. I even asked for the bill. It was amazing!”

“Was it as good as a sex dream?” he asked.

Honestly, it was better. I just want to be outside with people, dining out, seeing and being seen, dressing up or dressing down and, did I mention, being with people? Zoom just doesn’t do it for me.

Write me!

5. How do you cope as a sex addict in quarantine?

Didn’t the CDC say that sex with yourself is the safest sexy you can have? Well, I try to follow rules. Except when I break them. No, just kidding. That’s a rule I don’t break. I have a lot of self-pleasure sessions. Nothing new there, really. But now I can’t just call up a friend and have him or her come over to give me benefits.

6. Are you still having sex with other people while in quarantine? If so, please explain.

No sex in real life, just in my imagination. I had another crazy sex dream about Peter Dinklage the other night. I know, right? If only he and I were dining together in my dream. . .

7. How often are you watching pornography, using sex toys, or engaging in sex addicts that do not involve a partner while in quarantine?

Daily, hourly, right now. . . I mean, if you’re reading this, I’m engaging with you, right?

How to Practice Ethical Non-Monogamy Under Lockdown

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[Hi everyone! We hope that you boys & girls reading this from home are all safe and healthy. We know you’re sexy! We’re interrupting our usual programing of the mini-series “Mount Bliss” to bring you this story. You, our longtime readers and fans, probably know that most of the stories you read here are true, but HH takes a long time to craft them and so they are not usually about what is happening NOW. This is a little different.  It was featured in the May edition of Ethical Non-Monogamy (ENM) Magazine (p. 38).  It’s appropriate not only because it tell you how we are dealing with life under lockdown, but also it’s appropriate since May is Masturbation Month!  We hope you enjoy and we love to hear your stories of how you are doing: downloladown@gmail.com]

How to Practice Ethical Non-Monogamy Under Lockdown

“Fuck me,” she said, “Yeah, like that.”

I looked in the slightly ajar door to see just whom Lola could be fucking during a mandatory lockdown in a global pandemic.

“Oh, yeah,” she cooed as she lay, splayed out on the bed, one hand up inside her, the other squeezing her tits.

She was fucking herself and, apparently telling herself just how much she enjoyed it.

Desperate times, I suppose.

We had been in lockdown for two weeks.  It wasn’t so bad.  We were in Florida, by the beach, which eventually got closed down.  But we had a pool.  That too got closed the second week.  Now, all we had was each other and our health – a lot to be thankful for, no doubt, but not nearly enough for Lo.

We were both working remotely.  It was a little past one in the afternoon.  I was trying to do a conference call to Ms. Gale, my secretary, and one other person, but the moans and groans, gasps and grunts from the bedroom could be heard throughout the small apartment we were renting.  When she transitioned to actual words like “Fuck me.  Yeah, like that,” I had to make an excuse to hang up and go check on my nympho in the bedroom.

I politely waited until she was done – or at least taking a pause from her self-pleasure.

“Lo, come on!”

“What Daddy?”

“It’s one-fifteen.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Don’t you have work to do as well?”

“I’ve always had an hour of me-time scheduled every day on my work calendar, even before this whole Coronavirus thing.  Everyone knows not to bother me for this hour.”

“Do they know what you’re doing on your ‘me-time’?”

“Oh no, Daddy.  Well, I mean, I guess some of them probably have their suspicions.”

“Let me tell you, if you’re as loud in your office as you are here, then everyone knows.”

“I’m sorry, Daddio.  But I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d just fuck me.”

“We fucked last night and this morning.”

“So, why not this afternoon?”

“If I fucked you as much as you want it, then I certainly would die during this pandemic, but not from the virus!”

“It’s good exercise.”

“It seems like the only exercise you’ve been getting.”

“Well, the gym’s closed.  Besides, the CDC said that the safest sex anyone can have right now is with themselves.”

“The CDC did not say that!”

“Someone said that.”

“Probably you.”

“That doesn’t make it untrue.”

“Good grief!  Well, try to keep the sound effects to a minimum.  OK?  I have calls to make.”

While I work the day away, Lola plays.  She carries on about five to ten affairs from afar with various men and women.  Her friend, Nero Black, posted about jacking to her photos while his wife, who rarely gives up her goodies to him, jills it in the next room to taboo incest literotica.  Yet, the married boy best beware if she happens to walk in on him in the onanistic act of worshipping Ms. Down.  Lo has frequently suggested (nay, more than suggested, demanded) that Nero direct his partner’s web browser to mysexlifewithlola, or, at the very least, put the two of them in contact with each other.  But, as of yet, he has refrained.  Many-a-night I’ve had to hear from Lo about how she would have treated the two of them if she were their couples counselor.

Lo is friends with a lovely married couple from NJ, Mike and Danielle.  Mike has been a stay-at-home-dad to his two young daughters while Danielle has done the 9-to-5 at the office.  This has left Mike with time to chat with Lo and fap to Lo when the girls are down for a nap.  Luckily, unlike with Mr. Black, this has all been on the up-and-up with his wife Danielle.  In fact, not only with her blessing, but her encouragement.  She loves to come home and see the cumtributes her husband made to and for Lola.  Then, after the kids are put to bed, they turn on Lo’s pixilated pussy and fuck each other while looking at Lola.

Sharing Couple from NJ Hubby’s Cumtribute to Lola

Sharing Couple of NJ Enjoying the Stories

Sharing Couple of NJ Getting off to Lo

 

Of course, for Lola this is more fodder for the fapper.

Then there’s Floss and Nikki of FlossDoesLife and LoveIsAFetish, respectively.  They both have written raving reviews of the Match, Cinder & Spark books and, what gets Lo going even more, took sexy pics of themselves getting off to the printed page.  What else are you going to do in isolation?

Floss & Lola

Nikki of LoveIsAFetish getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark

Both Matt and Nelson of tehben.com have also written glowing, yet critical reviews of the audiobook, narrated by the inimitable Jupiter Grant.

The Beautiful Jupiter Grant

Not only do the reviews get Lo riled up, but Lo listens to Jupiter recite tales of Lo’s ribald antics just about every night, which causes her to alternately laugh and lunge in the bed next to me.

Then there’s the various women Lola’s attempting to seduce via sexy chat: Chelle Silverstein, Francesca Demont, and a woman who goes by the cyber-chat name of Warm Skin. 

Warm Skin Getting off to Lo

Don’t get me wrong, this whole ordeal has taken its toll on all of us in so many ways, and Lo is not exempt from that.  There are the nights that Lo can’t sleep due to anxiety about losing her job.  Afternoons that Lo returns from food shopping and has a full-blown panic attack that she has contracted the virus and is certain to pass it on to me.  Lo’s greatest fear? – dying alone.  That means, if I die first, which is more than likely given our age difference, then who will be there for her?  So, worse than her getting sick, in her mind, is my getting sick and dying!  There is the frequent fretting about family members who are already fighting this virus in far-flung points on the map.  Yes, we don’t talk about family too much here, but we do have relatives who are now among the ever-growing statistics you read about in the news.

For Lo, the go-to stress relief from all this ever-higher mountain of seen and unseen woe is found right between her legs.

Lo practicing Social Distancing Stress Relief, pass it along.

Finally, of course, there is just your straight-up porn that Lo has been watching.  Lo has a penchant for amateur porn and her latest infatuation is with the couple Lindsey and Mike Love.  Just as Lo and I fulfill the fantasies of many of our fans, I believe, Lindsey and Mike live out the fantasy life of Lo.  A married couple who enthusiastically got into porn together from the tender age of eighteen and rise to amateur stardom, getting rich and having fun.  I think the thing that Lo likes the most about the pair is that they have a real relationship, a story, and that they are very open to exploring sex with all genders, together and solo.

An hour later, Lo emerged from the bedroom.  “Daddy, it’s hot in there.  Will you help me open the window?”

I entered Lo’s lair of self-love.  I opened the window with ease to let in the ocean breeze, but it immediately deflated downward.

“Is it broken?” asked Lo.

“I don’t know.  It definitely doesn’t stay up like it used to.”

Without missing a beat she quips, “I’m sure you can relate.”

Stay safe everyone and we’ll see you on the internet.

Lola in all her glorly!

Age Gap

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[We interrupt our regularly scheduled story (from the “Mount Bliss” mini-series) to bring you this tale of epistles and dildos.]

 

“Guess who got fan mail?” sung Lola teasingly.

“Oh, what a mystery,” I said flatly, “let me see. . . could it be Lola?”

“Well, uh, yeah.  Duh.  But in addition to me, guess who else.”

“I?”

“Yes you, Shakespeare!”

“And am I allowed to read this love letter?”

“Who said it was a love letter?”

“I just assumed.”

“Here,” she said, abruptly shoving the computer over to me at the breakfast table.

I looked at the email.  It read:

Dear Lola,

Eric asked me to write you something about his special experience with you.

You and my boyfriend Eric have had chats, I know.  He`s always busy with drawing ladies from the internet.  I don’t mind, as long as the women are total strangers and from the other side of the world and I don’t have to be his model.  And we promised each other that real sex is exclusively between us.  He can ‘use’ me anytime he likes. Luckily for him I also like sex very much, so he’s a happy camper.

He tells me everything and shows me all his work.  I must say, he has got some talent but he’s no Rembrandt yet.  It turns me on sometimes when he’s busy drawing.  He sure knows his female anatomy.  At least he knows mine real well.

He told me that you would like Eric to ejaculate all over the pictures you send.  I asked him if he would do that.  He said: If you are ok with it?

I said, I don’t mind as long it’s a pic and not for real.

The thought of him jerking off over your pic was actually exciting me!  So I suggested to help him a little. . . .  That he didn’t expect.  LOL.

We agreed to do it that night.  That night I got him naked.  I kept my shirt and panties on.  I watched him stroking his cock.  It was rock-hard from the start.

I whispered some dirty words in his ears, reading from your blog, and brushed my big soft tits on his back and arms and everywhere.

I got excited a little too.  Seeing him stroking his cock for another girl and me working him up, I was soaking my panties.  I saw some precum on his cock.  I licked it away, pulled my shirt up and let him suck my breasts.  I grabbed his cock as he looked at your photos and I read to him as best I could – one eye on the words and one on his rod.

It wasn’t long before he came all over you.  I mean, all over your pic.  I must confess I swallowed a lot of it.

After that we made this photo for you. Hope you like it.

I got so horny that I wanted him to lick me and he made me come.  I was really dripping wet. After that he penetrated me real tenderly.  Only after half an hour did he eject another load in my pussy.  He obviously had to reload.  LOL.  He even ate my cream-pie!  It was great!

So Lola, thanks for the question you asked.  You are looking very young and lovely.  How old are you?  And have you ever had experience with women?  I don’t mind that.  And how is your boyfriend looking?  And do you have sex often?  Maybe we can exchange some nice pictures?

We hope to hear from you!

Bye now and kisses,

Eric and Charlotte

From Eric and Charlotte

“Lo,” I said after reading it.

She looked up at me, anticipating my reaction.

“It’s all about you.  She wants you.  This isn’t fan mail for me.  It’s adoration of the goddess for you!”

“She said she was reading your writing.”

“One line of the entire letter indirectly alludes to me and you call it my fan mail?!  Good grief!  A bigger egomaniac I never met!”

“Egomaniac or nymphomaniac?  Which is it?”

“Both!!!”

“Fine,” she said.  “I was just teasing with that.  Here’s the real fan mail,” she said, clicking on a different message from her in-box.

I read:

Dear H.H.,

Your power with words penetrates me deeply.  It’s so potent that I lose myself and end up in a place where I am with both of you.  You’re that good!  You’re the type of good that I can begin to feel you.  All I want is to reach through my screen and kiss you.  Taste you.  I’m very selfish, so I may just have to have you all to myself while Lola watches us. Be forewarned.

xoxoxo,

Jen X

Jen X

She also sent a few sexy photos of her as attachments.

“Why are you showing me this?” I asked because she usually keeps me at a “healthy” distance from temptation.  Except her temptation, of course.

“I thought it was sweet.”

“It was sexy and direct.”

“Just like me.”

“Exactly, which is why I’m suspicious of your motives.  You despise anyone who attempts to seduce me.  Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No no no,” she laughed as she got up from the table and moved very close to me.  “Show me you love me.”

“I show you with my words.”

“I want you to show me with your cock.”

“Lo, it’s eight in the morning on a Sunday!”

“Exactly.  This could be our fun day.”

“I get it now,” I said.  “You showed me that to arouse me.  You are only interested in getting your needs met.”

“On Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, sex is the top tier.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Well, it’s up there.”

“No it’s not.  Self-Actualization is top.”

“Well, I’m just going to have to go self-actualize myself, if you’re not going to do it for me.”

She sauntered to the bedroom, removing an article of clothing with each couple of steps down the hall.

As you well know, dear reader, Lo is half my age and at least double my libido.  As much as I try to satisfy her cravings, putting logs in the fire so to speak, it only makes a bigger fire of desire that burns through the logs twice as fast.  Buddha was well aware of this maddening math.  I’ve tried to steer clear of becoming consumed by coitus and I’ve finally reached an age where I can transfigure the intensity of my love from physical acts to intellectual creations.

“Your writing is just mental masturbation,” Lo called down the hallway.

“And your masturbation is just. . .physical. . . masturbation,” I responded with a repartee that fell flat as the pancake I was eating.

I turned the computer back toward me and scrolled through Lo’s other fan mail.  Something caught my eye.  It was an exchange between her and a man named Nero Black.  Nero is another middle-aged married man.  Like me, his wife spends much of her sex-drive on self-pleasure, getting off to all manner of taboo literotica.  Unlike me, she doesn’t first try to use him as a sex toy.  In their exchange, Lola had encouraged Nero to sneak mysexlifewithlola.com into his wife’s reading list somehow, or to buy one of the books or the audiobook for his wife to read.  Lo was convinced that if the two of them were to enter into the dregs of desire together, they would find each other there in the darkness of their depravity.

But for whatever reason, Mr. Black was hesitant to take Lo up on this suggestion.  He was in a sexual rut.  His wife was busy getting herself off in the bedroom while Mr. Black was jacking off in the bathroom.  But rarely did the two sex drives cross paths.  Unable to convince Mr. Black to break this pattern, perhaps because he was secretly fond of it, Lo did the next best thing – try to get Mr. Black to get off to her.

Mr. Black had written about how his wife caught him stroking himself to some porn in the bathroom and she just ignored it, with the exception of a snide remark, as if that kettle wasn’t blacker than Mr. Black.  Lo then clamored to Mr. Black to please please please use her photo next time he has a hankering for a wankering.  She even sent him a variety of choice shots to shoot his load to.  She was also hoping he would get caught by the Mrs. while looking at Lo’s image.

There is a certain pattern that emerged from the correspondences I found in Lo’s naughty letter box.  The women who wrote to me were all younger.  I guess I’m so old that statistically speaking, almost all of them will be younger.  And the men Lo wished to worship her were all older – around my age, and mostly married.

It’s true that, like Charlotte, there were a number of women around Lo’s age who also took a fancy to Lo.  But there most decidedly was an age gap between our respective fans.

A dug a little further and saw that dear Mr. Black had indeed used one of Lo’s pornographic images to find his sweet release and he even paid Lo the highest compliment of writing about it!

I walked into the bedroom to find Lo making sweet love to the greatest fuck of her life – herself.

“What is this?!” I demanded, not waiting for her to complete the self-impalement that she was engaged in with her glass dildo.

She didn’t stop.  She looked up, her right hand still rapidly thrusting in-and-out between her legs.

“Get behind me,” she commanded, evading the question and turning on all fours at the same time.

I thought she wanted me to replace the dildo with my own tool.  I was wrong.

“Grab it,” she said, indicating the handle of the dildo.  “Fuck it,” she said, indicating her pussy.  “Faster,” she said.  “Harder,” she said.  “Deeper,” she said.

As she gave me instructions, she scrolled through her photos until she came to one that tickled her fancy.

Her pussy exploded, rocketing out the glass dildo like a missile propelled by a water cannon!  She’s lucky that her discharge was aimed back at me and down at the bed or else her computer would be beyond repair.

When the waterworks were over and I had dried off, Lo was in the bathroom doing who-knows-what.  I looked at the image and accompanying story that had set her off.

“Wait!  What?!” I exclaimed.

“Don’t look!” she called to me from behind the bathroom door.

But there’s some things you just can’t unsee.

It was an illustration, thank goodness, and not an actual photo.  With it was a confession from an older woman who reported to Lola that she found her son looking at Lo’s photos and the blog.

The mother tried to use the opportunity as a “teaching moment.”

She said to her son, “It’s ok, son, Dad also gets off to Lola Down.”

“I know,” he said, ashamed, his face in his hands, “This is his computer.”

“You see,” she said, consoling him, “It’s normal.”

“But,” he began haltingly, embarrassed to say the next few words, “I’m logged on to your account.”

The mother tried not to flinch or to show any sign of embarrassment herself.  Teach by example.  It was true, she had found the blog through her husband’s search history and she had secretly fapped her snatch to it.  But now the family secrets were revealed and they revolved around Lola.

Sorry to see her son’s erection had not dissipated even through this difficult conversation, the mother offered, “Let me help you.  You’ll feel better, I promise.”

Wow!  I can’t even go into the details of what this housewife and mom shared with Lola about what happened next, but I think you get the idea.

Now, I thought, I bet that’s a story that Mrs. Black would really enjoy.

I Want to Drown in Lola Down

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[The mini-series, “Mount Bliss,” continues from “Shadow of a Doubt”.]

“Yes, Daddy.  Yes,” she said as I fucked her.  She was flat on the bed, spread eagle, pulling her ass cheeks as far apart as she could with her two hands as I lodged my lustlever as far in her lubricated lovehole as possible.  After so long of being apart, we were finally together, no matter the circumstances of how that came about.  I had desired her.  I had dreamed about her.  I had been deprived of her.  Now I wanted to be depraved with her.  She was already there.  I was along for the ride.  We were two feral fires fucking.

“My ass, Daddy,” she said over her shoulder.

I pulled out and reentered in the desired spot.

A few lunges deep down, down in Lola Down.

She opened up for me like a brilliant rose in the heat of an August sun-shower.

“My cunt, Daddy,” she said.

I pulled out, still dripping from all the fresh spunk that was slathered on my rigid rod from her previous “lover,” and descended again down deep between Lola’s labia.  She was full like a warm pool and her lubricant and loose lips made it so that, in comparison with the tight quarters from where I reamed her in the rear, I could hardly feel her hugging my manhood.

“Turn over,” I commanded as I pulled out of her and lorded my staff over her body like a saber.

“First go in my ass again,” she requested.

I complied.  While I was in there, she and I contorted and twisted, legs this way and that, a pull and a turn, but we managed to transpose into anal missionary position so that now she had her legs wrapped around my hips as I delved into her dark recesses down under.

“Alternate,” she commanded.

“What?”

“Back-and-forth from my ass to my pussy and back again with each thrust.  Please.”

I did as she pleaded.  She wanted to be used in the worst sort of ways.  I had lost track of how many times she came.  Or was it all just one orgasm?  The sheets were soaked as she kept gushing each time I uncorked her geyser to fill her other hole.  I was truly amazed at my own stamina.  How long could I last?  Especially after a week of abstinence.  But following her commands took concentration and skill which prevented my mind from focusing on how much of a cock-hungry cum-slut Lola was.

“I want you in my mouth,” Lo said, begging to be degraded even further.

I pulled out of her ass and sat on my haunches, my cock pointing intently toward the sky.

Lo spun around on all fours like a dog at its bowl and began licking from base to tip before enveloping the entire elongated, taut organ into her mouth all the way down to the back of her throat.  She devoured it with desire.

Her debauchery and debased disposition, her unabashed and naked carnal corruption, her wild, animalistic craving, intoxicated by its own brazen disregard for society’s norms flooded my spirit with its dark light – the lure of antinomian revelation in which all dichotomies disappear and thought dissolves back into the primordial sea of the body from which it first emerged and hovered over the surface of the deep.

Shadow of a Doubt

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[The mini-series, “Mount Bliss,” continues from “Lola on All Fours” with this abridged account.]

We left the rest of the crew standing in disbelief of their own eyes and went up to the bedroom together.

Out of sight of the other four, Lo hugged me so hard that it seemed she would never let go.  She began to cry.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” she sniffled into my shirt.

Besides my other kinks and fetishes, I am particularly plagued with a terrible condition known as dacryphilia – the sexual arousal that results from seeing someone cry.

Lo’s tears, her shame, her sexual deviancy, her exhibitionism, her terrible teasing of me all day, nay, all week, and her repeating the refrain of “Daddy” all caused my already hard cock to swell to a stiffness I hadn’t felt in ages.

“Daddy, I’m so sorry.  I’m so embarrassed.  I’m so bad.  Daddy, do you even still love me?” she asked, extremely repentant.  That’s when she felt my love for her manifest in definitive form.

She dropped to her knees on the floor and held onto my rigid member with one hand and felt my soft sack with the other.  She was worshipping it.  “Your balls are so big.  So full.”  If crying turns me on, nothing turns on Lo like a male who is in desperate need of relief.

Tears were still running down her cheeks as she took me in her mouth.  She looked up at me, “It’s been so long,” she said.  I could feel the teardrops fall on my thigh.

Did she mean so long since she and I had been together or so long since she gave someone a blowjob?  I didn’t know.

“Have me, Daddy,” she said, getting on all fours on the bed.

Her puss was still leaking and looked puffy, pink, gleaming and glistening like two perfect slices of tuna sashimi.  I know that sounds weird, but I tell it like I saw it.

“What are you waiting for Daddy.  Don’t you want to fill me up?”  Doggie style, she awaited my mount.

“I feel like I’m in Shadow’s shadow,” I said.

“Don’t think about it that way, Daddy.”

“How should I think about it?”

“Don’t think.  Fuck.”

“Don’t think.  Fuck,” I thought to myself.  Fuck.  Fuck her.  Fuck her cunt.  Fuck her filled foaming warm wet sloppy soaked queefing cum-drenched c*****-infused cunt.  And that’s just what I began doing as she audibly moaned with a sound that reminded me of the final, satisfying chord of a symphony.  All that tension from the screech of the violins, the percussive pressure of rhythm, the rising anticipation of the bass as it ascends step-by-step up the scales, finally resolved in one beautiful resolution that was Lo’s guttural moan of pleasure.  Mount Bliss.

I knew, however, that the tone of gratification was prelude to the new composition that she and I were in the process of creating together.  I pulled back and saw in the darkness . . . thick cum drip from the labia just before I pushed back in, deep and far.

Lo collapsed onto the bed, lunging forward from her doggie style position to being sprawled out on her tum, her legs spread, and reaching back with both hands to grab her ass cheeks and squeeze them as I continued to enter and exit her from behind.

“Yes, Daddy.  Yes,” she said.

[For unabridged version, send us an email.]