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

A Woman’s Touch

Lola came home from the sperm donation clinic in a very horny mood, as you might expect.  She told me all about it as I pounded her from the top, her legs spread, both hands down between her legs spreading her pussy as wide as it would go, inserting her eight fingers on either side of my cock in order to feel as full as possible, and squirting nearly continuously the entire time, soaking the bed and me.

Lola Bed Spreading panties on

Lola Bed Spreading no panties

When we were done and she had caught her breath, she relayed a little coda to the story.  When she returned inside the clinic to grab her coat, she spoke to the receptionist about the possibility of. . . well, you know what?  I don’t want to spoil the surprise, so I’ll just cut to the next time Lo met Terence at the clinic.  Oh yes, there was a next time.  Did you think there wouldn’t be?

They met in front of the clinic just like the first time.  She greeted him, taking his hand in hers, standing on tiptoe, giving him a kiss.  In the cold air, their breath created a small cloud before their faces.  She let him see her breasts under her coat.  This time she was wearing a turquoise blouse.  It wasn’t transparent, but it was thin.  No bra.  Hard nipples in the winter chill.  He liked what he saw.  They entered the clinic and were greeted by a different, yet also attractive, receptionist.

The Masturbatorium Staff, Ellie, second from right in front.

Terence gave his name, received the specimen cup, and was told to proceed to room #3 again.  Lo said, “Wait here,” as she removed her coat and hung it up on the coat rack, just like last time.  She rejoined her companion and they walked together into the collection room.  This time Terence was immediately set on his heels by two framed posters of Lola hanging on the white walls of the small room.  They were exactly where the posters by Roy Stuart hung last time they were in room #3.  The poster right in front of them was of Lo, bent over, heaps of cum dribbling out of her well-used pussy.  The second poster was to their left and it was nearly all a classic black-and-white.  Lo was lying on her back, her legs spread, copious cum dripping out of her pussy, as her manicured fingers rubbed her clit and her other hand played with her nipples.  The poster was artistically accented with the pink of her fingernails and pearls bracelet popping in color against the desaturated shades of grey.

Lola Poster

Lola Poster Cream Pie

“Is, is, is that who I think it is?” asked Terence.

Lola smiled mischievously.  “Who do you think it is?”

“I think it’s you.”

“You would be correct.  Do you like?”

“Very much,” he said, nearly panting.  “But. . . ?”

“Remember, last time, when I asked what you thought of the poster and you said. . .”

“Oh, I remember,” he interrupted.  Lola didn’t need to remind him.

“Well, I just thought the place could use a little bit of a woman’s touch.  You know?”

“But how did you. . . ?”

“I just flirted with the girl behind the desk a little and then asked her for a favor.”

“Really?”

“Yep.  Apparently it’s pretty popular.”

“Your poster?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“You see, it has the name of the blog on it?”

“Oh yeah.”

“A number of guys who have jacked off in this very room have contacted me.”

“Why?”

“To send me cumtributes of course.”

“A cumtribute?”

Lo couldn’t believe his naïveté.

“A cumtribute is a photo that a man or woman, or sometimes a couple or more, take where they show themselves getting off to my pics.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised.  “Do people do that?”

“A lot of people.”

Tribute photo from Purple’s Gem

“It’s like a kink?”

“Yes.  You have your kinks, they have theirs.”

“I could probably learn to like that kink.”

“I don’t think it would take you too long to learn.”

“I’m a quick study.”

“Speaking of kinks, let’s indulge in yours.  Ready?”

“Um, yeah!”

Lo put on the latex gloves and this time she had Terence undo and pull down his pants while she lubed up her right hand.

He sat down again and she grabbed his drooping cock in her palm.

“What does HH think of it?”

“Of what?” she asked, looking at him in his face as she absent-mindedly stroked his flaccid meat.

“Of, well, of your poster being up here.  He knows, doesn’t he?”

“Actually, no.  I didn’t tell him.”

“You didn’t tell him?!”

“It slipped my mind.”

“How does a thing like that slip your mind?”

Lola looked down, studying the project at hand.  He was growing, but still not hard.

“I guess I was busy with other things.”

“Does he know about the cumtributes?”

“Oh yeah.  I mean, he knows that I get them.  I suppose he doesn’t know about the ones I received recently from, well, from this room.”

Ellie reading from Match, Cinder & Spark to Terence while she coaxes his cum for a donation

Lola thought of all the guys who had jacked off in this room, jacked off looking at her poster, and the handful of them who had sent her photographic evidence of it.  It turned her on.  It probably turned her on more than Terence was turned on at the moment.

The Donation Station

“He knows you’re here with me right now, doesn’t he?”

“Oh yes.  I made sure of it.”

“What does that mean?”

“I like to tease.  I told him what I was going to do, where I was going to do it and with whom.”

“But he didn’t know that I’d be staring at your naked photos.”

“They don’t seem to be doing the trick.”

“Sorry,” he said, blushing.  “I guess I’m talking too much.”

“Oh, it’s ok.  I like talking. . . about me.”

“Did you pick out the photos?” he asked, looking at them again.

“I did.”

“Why did you choose these?”

“Well, the director specifically instructed Courtney. . .”

“Courtney?”

“The cute brunette behind the reception desk last time.”

“Oh, I know Courtney.”

Courtney

“I’m sure you do.  Anyhow, through her the director was very clear that I was only allowed to put up photos of myself if they included cum in them.”

“In them, or in you?” he asked.

“In, on, whatever.  What do you think of this one?” she asked, pointing to the small framed photo of her bent over in her tight latex pants with a puddle of cum on her ass.

Lola Cum Covered

“I’m hard already!”

“Yes,” she said as she looked at his erect cock, “finally.”

She stroked him as she watched how his stomach muscles flexed.  She added, “I guess the director knew that seeing a woman with cum on and in her can act as a form of encouragement.  I read somewhere. . . now where was it?  Oh yes, in the book Insatiable Wives – have you ever read it?”

“No, I’ve never heard of it.”

“Oh, it’s a great read.  It’s about, well, about hotwives, like me.”

“I’ll pick it up.”

 

 

 

 

Insatiable Hotwife Lola

“Anyhow, I read in that book that studies show men who see other men – or was it apes? – anyhow, males, let’s just say, who see other males fornicating with a female produce more sperm.  I think that’s why the director wanted sperm included in the pictures.”

“Makes sense.”

“Do you feel like you’re going to produce more sperm today?” she asked, looking down again at her hand pumping his hard, but hardly explosive cock.

“To tell you the truth. . .”

“Yes?”

“I’m really enjoying this.”

“Enjoying what?”

“You, touching me, talking to me while you fondle my cock and balls.”

Lo grabbed his left arm with her free hand and turned it to see his wristwatch.  “You’ve got about fifteen minutes.  You going to make it to the finish line?”

“Oh yeah.  I will.  You do this to HH?”

“Frequently.”

“How frequently?”

“Whenever I’m on my period.”

“You going to do it to him tonight?”

“Not if you take your full half hour to cum.  I’ll be getting a wrist massage,” she said, pausing in her pursuit of his happiness and grabbing the lube to lube up her left hand.

“Oh, sorry.  Maybe I should just get down to business,” he said, contritely.

“What will make you cum and cum quickly?”

“Well, if I could see your tits.”

“I guess you can’t see my tits in this poster, huh?”

“Nope.”

“But you can in this one.”

“Yes, but only in black-and-white.”

“OK then.  But my hands must remain sterile, so can you unbutton my blouse?”

“My pleasure!”

Slowly he undid each button, one-by-one, as she continued to manipulate his joystick in her slippery, gloved hand until the two sides of the blouse were hanging freely, as were her breasts.

“Beautiful,” he sighed.

“You like?”

“Yes.  God yes.”

She moved closer to him so the nipple of her left breast was a mere finger’s breadth from his lips.

“You may kiss, if you like.”

“And suck?”

“And suck.”

He latched on and she enjoyed it.  She released a long, guttural moan and the sound of her pleasure brought him to climax.  Unfortunately, Lo was lost in the sensation of his warm lips on her still chilly breast and didn’t immediately react to the ejaculation by having the collection cup ready.  He came on her.  On her stomach and on her black skirt.  Once she felt his hot cum making a mess, she jumped and fumbled with the jar.  She managed to collect just a fraction of the total discharge.  It would have to do.

She sealed up the cup and removed her gloves.  She used her index and middle fingers of her right hand to swipe up a good amount of the ejaculate on her torso and she slowly opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and placed the dollop in her mouth.  She swallowed and smiled.

“No one needs to know,” she said with a wink.

She buttoned up, wiped off her stained skirt, and walked to the receptionist’s desk.  She gave the cute receptionist the jar and grabbed her coat.

“Oh, Ms. Down,” said the receptionist, just as Lola was putting her arm through the crook in Terence’s arm to walk out together.

“Yes?”

“The director asked if you would kindly stop in to see him before you go.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Gladly,” she said.  “I mean, if that’s ok with you, darling,” she added to Terence, as if they were a couple.

“The director!  But of course!” he said with great enthusiasm.  “I will miss you at home,” he added, leaning in for a passionate kiss before parting ways.

Are you hear to donate?

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.

Compersion Perversion

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

Lo Casually Masturbating

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

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

But this email was different.

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

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

“Nope.”

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

“I’m in the park.”

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

“OK.” I wrote back.

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

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

“Guess who I’m with.”

“Bill Murray.”

“No silly!  Meri!!!”

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

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

“Which park?” I asked.

“Guess.”

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

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

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

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

How could I resist?

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

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

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

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

Lo’s Thong Askew

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HH – Hot & Hard

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

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

“Mr. H?!” she shot back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was eager to catch up with Lola.

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

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

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

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

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

“Lo,” I said in a gentle tone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stoya Licking her own Pussy

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who?”

Then the doorbell rang.

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

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

Lola: “Fuck me.”

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

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

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

Lola: “Fill me.”

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

Then the first returned to the pole position.

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

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

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

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

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

“Mushrooms and onions,” I said unthinkingly.

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

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

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

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

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

Lo Placing an Order for Pizza

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

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

I nodded.

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

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

“You going to cum?” Lo asked.

He grunted.

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

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

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

“Thanks Lo,” he said.

“Say hi to your mom,” Lo said.

“Enjoy your dinner,” he replied.

They let themselves out.

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

“Maybe you should.”

She contemplated that idea.  “Like I am?”

“Exactly.”

Lola Filled, but not full

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

I awaited her return in the dining room.

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

She laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“It was a woman.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“What was her reaction?”

“A cross between shock and disgust.”

“Too bad.”

“Why?”

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

“I’ll take disgust.”

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

“Sorry for what?”

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

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

“I will,” she said, obediently.

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

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

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

“Care to enlighten me?”

“I like to be used.”

“You didn’t even cum.”

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

“With me or without me?”

“If you’re lucky, both.”

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

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

“Just like you,” I said sarcastically.

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

“Oh, him?”

“Yeah, him.”

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

“You sure gave it to him.”

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

“Yes, I saw.  What did he give you?”

“His business card.”

“What sort of business is he in?”

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

“Really?  Where’s his card?”

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

She gave it to me.

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

“I don’t know.  Do you want me to?”

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

“What do you think?”

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

“Eating pizza?”

 

Telegraphic Titillation

Working from Home

Sometimes it seems that I attract a certain ilk of people toward me.  We all telegraph messages – both overtly and unconsciously – to the world and some people not only have the capacity to receive those messages, but are drawn toward them.

When I hired Ms. Gale, I was not consciously aware of anything special about her.  She had just graduated from college, was in need of some sort of job – anything really – and she pranced into my office, no appointment, after hearing from a friend that I might be a good employer.

She was my first employee.  I always strived to have a purely professional relationship with her.  But she was looking for more than a boss.  She wanted meaning, a mentor, a man.  Don’t get me wrong, when I met her, she was dating someone.  And she has since begun dating and broken up with a half-dozen guys.  But they all were about half my age and she always turned to me for both life advice and love advice.  Early on I told her, “You know, age doesn’t necessarily lead to wisdom.”  She said, “Only a wise person would say that.”

She appeals to my vanity and that’s dangerous.

Perhaps because I have remained distant and also because I’ve always been kind, she is loyal to a tee.

And so, recently, with the onset of work-from-home orders, she has insisted on coming into the office to do the necessary work that is needed.

That is also dangerous because there’s only the two of us in the office and we are guaranteed to be left alone since no clients would be popping in unexpectedly.

Let me be clear, before you, dear reader, get any lurid ideas – I am completely faithful to my Lo.  I am dedicated to her.  Obviously.  If you don’t know that by now, then, well, go back and do your homework.

The other day, a couple of weeks ago, I noticed that Ms. Gale’s blouse was unbuttoned a little too far for work, revealing her cleavage and a bit of her lacey bra.  But that is not what piqued my interest.  I was curious because there seemed to be large red splotches on her otherwise fair-skinned chest.

I didn’t pay it much mind, figuring that maybe I should turn up the AC.

A couple of days later I noticed it again.  This time the red rash ran up to her neck.  But later in the day the marks had disappeared.

Curious.

Then, last week, she came into my office to show me a document she had drafted.

She bent over my desk and her large breasts were dangling down dancing freely in front of me.  I looked at the document and then back up at her and I saw the red splotches appearing before my eyes.

“Ms. Gale,” I said authoritatively.

She stood up immediately and bit her lip a little.  Her knees were pressed together.

“Yes,” she squealed.

“Are you allergic to something in the office?”

“What?”

“Is there something in the office causing a skin rash for you?”

She looked confused.  “Why do you say that?”

“I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to draw attention to this, but I’ve noticed on a number of occasions that you seem to have some sort of. . .”  I moved my hand to my neck and chest to indicate what I was talking about.

She looked down and saw the scarlet indicator of which I spoke.

“Can you excuse me, Mr. H., for one sec.?  I really have to use the bathroom.”

I felt terrible.  I embarrassed her.  I should never have mentioned it!  Damn.

A few moments later she returned.

She sat at her desk.  I went to her and said, “I’m sorry for that, Ms. Gale.  I was out of line.  I was just concerned that maybe there is an environmental allergen that we could remove.”

“That’s ok, Mr. H.,” she said.  “I appreciate your concern.  No.  I’m not allergic to anything.”

I wanted to let the question drop.  But I continued.  Was I being a good boss or a naughty old man?

“Is it too hot in here for you?”

“No, Mr. H.”

“OK.  Well, if there is anything that you. . .”

She didn’t let me finish my sentence.  She broke into tears at her desk.

Oh, I thought, the red splotches have to do with her emotions.

Unfortunately, as I’ve mentioned before, I suffer terribly from dacryphilia – the arousal caused by crying; specifically a lovely younger woman’s tears.

What was I to do?

“Ms. Gale.  I’m. . .”

She looked up at me, her mascara running, crimson splotches all over her chest and neck.

“It’s not you, Mr. H.,” she said.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

She was quiet for a while.  Her hands tightly gripped the arms of the task chair she was in.  She bit down on her lip for a moment and almost lifted herself up out of the chair.

“Ms. Gale?”
“Mr. H.  I’m sorry because I’ve been inappropriate.  I’ve violated your trust.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This is so embarrassing,” she said.  “You know, because of COVID-19, I haven’t been able to date anyone.”

“You and the rest of the single world,” I added, supportively.

“But I’ve been on a few dating aps and. . .”

She trailed off for a bit, collecting her thoughts.

“And, I met someone.  Someone I really like.  But we haven’t been able to meet in person.  It’s terrible.”

Again, another long pause.

“It doesn’t sound so bad,” I said.  “This pandemic will eventually be over.”

“That’s not it, Mr. H.”

“What?  You can tell me anything.”  I don’t know if I meant that.  I’m not sure that I wanted to hear what she had to say.  But it seemed like the right thing to say at the moment.

“I know, Mr. H.  You’re so good to me.  But I think you’re going to fire me.”

“Why?”  I was now very worried that she had violated confidentiality or something serious.

“Well, in order to feel more connected with this guy.  In order to gratify his, my, our sexual needs.”  There were a lot of pauses.  “He bought me a toy.”

“A toy?”

“A sex toy.”

“I’m not sure I follow.  What does that have to do with. . .”

“It’s called a Lush.  It is operated remotely.”

“And?”

“And, well, I have it in now.  I’ve had it in for the past two weeks at work.  He turns it on at random and, well, it causes me to climax, like really climax.  I mean, like a huge fucking orgasm.”

“I get it,” I said.  “So, it’s in you right now?”

“Yes.”

“Vibrating?”

She just nodded.

“And that accounts for the rash on your chest.”

She nodded, yes, again.  She was too embarrassed to answer with words.

“I see.  That is serious.”

“I’ll pack up my things.  I’m so sorry again.”

“There is no need for that, Ms. Gale,” I said, surprising myself.

“What?”

“Please, just don’t let it happen again and you and I, well, we’ll pretend like this unfortunate circumstance never transpired.  Ok?”

“Are you sure, Mr. H.?”

“Would you rather be fired?”

“No no no,” she said.  “It will never happen again.”

“I expect not.  This is a place of business, not a personal care facility.”

“Yes, Mr. H.”

“If I catch you doing that again, you’ll leave me no choice.”

“I understand.”

“I’ll have to spank you,” I said with a little wink, letting her know that I was just joking and I actually was not that cross with her.

Farm to Table

[Continued from “Tuesday’s Tale.”]

Though her brief email Tuesday morning gave me some indication as to what was going on in vacationland, it left me with so many more questions: What were Lo and Lily wearing to bed?  Just how many times did Lo masturbate?  What was Lily’s reaction?  Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long for my answers.  Lo knows me well.  As soon as she sent the email, she also texted me to alert me to its dispatch and she said, “Tell me when you’re done reading it.”

I texted her back and she immediately called me with her very sexy, sultry voice.

“Hi Daddy.”

I was at work.  I couldn’t respond in kind.

“Tell me, how is your vacation?” I asked in a quasi-formal tone.

“Mmmmmmm,” was all I heard from the other end of the line.  Her answer left a lot to the imagination.

“Lo, I can’t really talk right now, so. . .”

“We’re going out today, Daddy,” she said, interrupting me.  “I’ll call you later, ok?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Do you miss me?”

“Very much.”

“Do you want me to come?”

“What?”

“Do you want me to come?”

Was she masturbating on the phone?  I had no idea.  It wouldn’t be unheard of.  But then she added, “home.”  “Do you want me to come home?” she asked.

“I miss you, Lo.  But have a good time.  Call me tonight?”

“I miss you too.  Gotta run,” she said hastily.  “Kisses!”  Then she hung up.

I didn’t hear back from her that night.  It wasn’t until Wednesday morning that I got word from her and that meant I slept almost not at all Tuesday night.

Wednesday morning she sent me a photo that appeared to be her giving an incredibly tiny cock a hand-job, but it was hard to tell exactly.

The text that accompanied the picture simply said, “Getting a lot of practice for you, Daddy.  Do you miss me?”  I received those at about 7:45 Wednesday morning, before I went to work.  I asked her to call me, but she didn’t respond.  After another poor night of sleep for me, this was just too much to bear.

When she called later Wednesday, she caught me at work yet again.  I sat at my desk and heard her phone-sex voice as I tried to remain poker-faced.  I felt like a wax statue exposed to a hot fire.  She melted me inside, but I remained stoic externally.

She gave me the details of Tuesday’s excursion.  After a small breakfast at home, Collin had announced that he had very special dinner plans for Lily and Lola.  It was too cloudy and cool for the boat on the lake and so, he suggested a different outing.  Suzanne wasn’t going to join.  Collin said the girls should wear clothes they could get dirty in.  Lo’s curiosity was piqued.  Lo wore her denim skirt and a white, semi-transparent tank top.  No panties, no bra.

Soon the girls were in the Jeep with Collin riding across the terrain again, which frightened Lo half to death, but also exhilarated her.  Collin brazenly had his hand on Lo’s knee the entire ride.

They arrived at a farm, about a half hour from the cottage.  Collin explained to Lo and Lily that dinner was literally going to be a farm-to-table experience, but that he had arranged for the girls to work on the farm first to “earn your keep.”  The girls were game.  “You know how I love the country life,” said Lo over the phone.

Their chores included picking the fruit: peaches, apples, nectarines.  That required Lo to climb up the ladders while Colin held them in place, giving him the perfect view up her skirt.

Then they had to move the bales of hay.  This was very difficult for them, but Collin came in with a tractor and they were able to stack the hay properly.

Collin then let the girls take turns driving the tractor around the perimeter of the property before the girls were really put to work in the barn.  They had to milk the goats.  (So that’s what that picture was!)  Lo told me how good she was at it due to her wide experience using her hands with the same movement.

The GOAT

“Mr. H.,” said Ms. Gale, my secretary, barging into my office.

“What?” I almost barked at her.

“There is a client here to see you.”

“With an appointment?”

“No.”

“Tell whomever it is, I’m busy.”

“But. . .”

“Busy!  And please close the door behind you Ms. Gale.”

She exited.

“If you’re busy Daddy. . .” began Lo.

“No, I want to hear the rest of your story,” I said, sounding almost desperate.

She went on to tell me that after milking the goats, they had to churn the milk into butter.  She bragged again about how expert she was at that and insinuated that she also had a lot of practice.

Finally, after doing their chores on the farm, Collin took the girls for a horseback ride, bareback, to a park where they had a little snack of fresh baked bread, the butter they had made, some cheese, and the fruit they had picked.  Lo informed me that she sat in such a way to allow Collin more views of her pink, ripe delights.

Lo asked me, “Do you prefer peach or nectarine, Daddy?”

“Are you referring to fruit, Lo?” I asked, perplexed.

“What do you think?” she teased.

“Well,” I said, “when you left, you were peach.”

“Let’s just say I’m nectarine now.  And very juicy.”

I could hardly handle it.  She knows how to entice me.  “Show me,” I said.

She said I should wait a minute, hung up, and then texted me a pic.  It was not exactly what I had expected: a photo of a peach next to a nectarine.

“Very funny,” I typed back.

Then she followed it with a photo of her shaved pussy peeking out of her short denim skirt.

Collin’s View?

“What happened next?” I asked, impatient to hear her whole story and a bit scared she’d scamper off again to do who-knows-what before getting to the end of her day.

After lunch, Lo told me, they went to town and browsed through the little knick-knack stores, antique stores, art galleries, and bookshops.  Lo said she found one book that she showed to Collin to get his attention.  It was an anthology of erotica.  She asked Collin if he or his wife enjoy naughty reads.

But before telling me his answer, she simply told me that he was more than happy to buy the book for her and she sent me a little photo to prove it.

Erotic Crotch

After their excursion to town, they returned to the farm/restaurant for dinner, but, just as she was launching into her “I’ve got a sexy story to tell you” voice, Ms. Gale again interrupted.

“Mr. H., that client is still here.  Will you see him?”

Infuriated, I made my apologies to Lo and hung up, more frustrated than Coleridge when the visitor from Porlock arrived.

 

A Case of the Mondays

A Case of the Mondays

Got the Horses in the Back

“Tonight I’m going out to dinner with some friends,” she said to me in the morning after I got out of the shower.

“OK.”

“I’m going to take the subway downtown from work.”

“How are you going to get to work?”

“That’s where you come in.”

“What?”

“You’ll give me a ride to work.”

“I will?”

“Yeah.  I’ll make it worth your while,” she said as she spread her legs and stroked her labia.

“Are you proposing sex in exchange for a ride to work?”

“You give me a ride and I’ll give you a ride.”

I looked at her pussy.  She said, “What?”

“Now I see where I cum in.”

“That’s right, Daddio.  That’s where you cum in.”

“I wonder what you tell your Uber drivers.”

“We’ll find out tonight.”

Naked and still dripping wet from the shower, I got into bed with her.  She was dripping wet for other reasons.  I came within seconds.

“That was so quick.  I hardly even warmed up,” she complained.

“I got what I bargained for.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the kitchen to make breakfast.”

“But, I want you.”

“You just had me.”

“I want you more.”

“Sorry, babe, there is no more.”

“But I need to get fucked.”

“I just fucked you.”

“I mean really fucked.”

“You sure know how to compliment a guy.”

“I need a cock that can complement my cunt.  Reach in the closet and grab my Remus.  I’m going to ram that baby home so far that tonight I’ll be so stretched I won’t even feel a human cock in me.”

“Oh, we’re having sex again tonight?  Very presumptuous of you.”

“I’ll be having sex, but I didn’t say it would be with you.”

I passed her the giant box containing her horse-cock dildo and went into the living room where I turned on “Old Town Road.”

Yeah, I’m gonna take my horse to the old town road
I’m gonna ride ’til I can’t no more
I’m gonna take my horse to the old town road
I’m gonna ride ’til I can’t no more

I got the horses in the back

I heard screams from down the hall.  She was calling for me.  I went into the bedroom and found her backing into the flared phallus attached to the headboard.

“That was fast,” I said, “It took me longer to make toast.”

Though she had already cum, she said, “I want your cock.”

“But we have to leave soon.”

“That’s ok, I want it to go.”

“To go?  But you’re naked, filled to the hilt with an equine appendage.”

“I want it to go in my mouth.”

I humored her by unzipping my pants and pulling out my flaccid cock which she eagerly and easily cupped along with my balls orally.  Her mouth came off of me with a ‘pop’ sound and she said, “Pass me the other dildo.”

Reached under the bed and pulled out her double-ended 16” toy and she licked it before manipulating it into her ass.

“Did you have breakfast?” she asked, looking up at me as she eased back on both dildos.

“I’m making it now,” I said.

“Well, I can be your double-stuff dessert.”

“I’ll leave you three to get better acquainted,” I said as I went to tend to my food.

Later, as she was getting dressed, she said “What are you looking at?”

“Your puss.”

“Well, you already got yours.”

“And you already got yours.”

“That thirty seconds?  Believe me, it was nothing to write home about.”

“You write home about sex?”

“Doesn’t everybody?”

“I don’t.”

“No, you write books about sex.”

She was dressed and ready to go in about two minutes.  “By the way,” she said, “you’ll have to change all the sheets later.  I’d strip the bed myself, but I’m late.”

“I’ve never known you to pass up stripping for anything.”

“Well, there’s a reason why they call it Masturbation Mondays.”

“Who calls it that?”

“I do.”

“I’ve heard of Manic Monday, a case of the Mondays, and Sunday Scaries, but never Masturbation Mondays.  Why do you call it that?”

“Cause, every Monday I have to continue my masturbatory sessions at work.”

“Of course you do.  What about Tuesdays and Wednesdays?”

“Well, pretty much any day I go to work that ends in ‘y’.”

We were in the car on the way to her office and we hit a ton of traffic.  Pissed at how much time I was taking out of my morning to drive her, I said, “Wow, you got a lot of work out of me for only thirty seconds of play.”

“The shorter the fuck, the more I should get for it.”

Hopeless, Romantic

 

I walked into the office and said, “Ms. Gale, please block out the week of July first through July tenth.  I’m going on vacation.”

She looked up from her desk, her blue eyes framed by her wide-rimmed glasses, and asked, “Vacation?!  Where?”

“That’s right, vacation.  I’ve gotta get outta here.  I booked a resort hotel for Lo and me on a beach in Maui.”

“Ooooo, really?” she squealed with excitement.  “Are you going to propose to her there?”

The question took me by surprise.  “Propose?  Why would I do a darn-fool thing like that?”

“Because, Mr. H., that’s what people do at those romantic resorts on the beach.”

“People,” I said with scorn.  “I am not people.”

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?  Why are you just stringing her along?”

“Ms. Gale, you are correct, I am madly in love with Lola.”

“So why don’t you get married to her?”

“Because I am madly in love with Lola.  I am not madly in love with marriage.  Marriage is a comfort that, once achieved, leads to the erosion of love.”

“Oh, Mr. H., you’re such a stick-in-the-mud.”

“And you, Ms. Gale, are a busybody twenty-something who has never been married, divorced, or lived fifty some-odd years to learn from experience.”

“Well, that’s no reason not to get married.”

“If you’re so crazy about marriage, why don’t you marry Lola?” I asked as I walked out of the reception area where Ms. Gale had her desk, slamming the door to my private office.

That was how my day started.  It only got worse from there.  Needless to say, by the end of the work day, which was nine at night for me, I was in no mood for Lo’s tomfoolery.

I walked into the bedroom, found Lola naked under the sheets, doing what Lola is always doing when she’s naked under the sheets with easy access to her phone, and I began to undo my tie and remove my button-down shirt.

“Oh yeah,” Lo moaned.

“Is that meant towards me, or your porn video?” I asked as I removed my pants.

Without taking her eyes off the video or her hand from between her legs, she said, “Yes.”

I washed up in the bathroom and returned, taking off my pants and getting under the sheets next to Lo.  “Well, Daddio, am I going to get any tonight?” she asked as she was rubbing her pussy lips under the covers with one hand and holding my flaccid cock with the other hand, the phone with the video still playing next to her, flat on the bed.  I could hear the couple in the video moaning and groaning.

“You have to get me hard first,” I said.

“That seems to be an insurmountable obstacle,” she replied, lifting and dropping my soft dick.

“Really?  I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“I never have had that problem. . . with other men.”

Within moments I was asleep, or so Lo told me the next morning.  She had to get her rocks off without me. . . again.

When I woke in the morning, I found her curled up next to me, her eyes already open.  “You can fuck me if you want to” were her first words to me.

Luckily, having expelled all my bad feelings of the previous day through my sleep, I was very “up” that morning.

“Roll over on your back and spread your legs,” I said.  My first words to her.

“Oh, Daddy!  You’re so romantic!”  I honestly couldn’t tell if she was being sincere or sarcastic.

I positioned myself over her naked body and took a good look at her.  “You look good,” I said.

“Prove it!”

“The proof is in the puddin’, and I’m puddin’ it in you.”  I slid in.  She was dripping wet.  “Lo,” I said once I was deep inside her.

“Yes, Daddy?”

“How long have you been up?”

“I don’t know.  Why?”

“Did you jill it?”

“When?”

“This morning.”

“Yes.”

“How many times?”

“Daddy, I’ve been jillin’ it since last night.  I have no idea how many times.  I’m sore and soaked and I want you.”

“What have you been jillin’ it to?”

“Daddy, I can’t remember it all.  Just shut up and fuck me.  Please.”

I shut up and gave her what she asked for.  But she asked, “Can I turn over, Daddy, please?”

I let her turn onto her tum and she put her ass up in the air to be had from behind.  But then I saw her grabbing her phone and looking at it.  One hand held it up for her to see and the other was manipulating her clit. I tried to see what she was looking at, but couldn’t quite make it out.

“Lo, what is that?” I asked as I leaned forward and put my hands on her shoulders to see better.

“Never you mind.  Just get back there and do your job.  I want to feel you, hard and deep and hard.”

I complied with her demands.  She came.  At the moment when I felt her pussy clench on my cock, I came too, deep inside her.  She collapsed into the pillows, dropping her phone.  I fell on top of her.  Eventually, I slowly pulled out.  Looking down at her, I quoted one of her favorite films, “Little full, lotta sap.”

She laughed and then said, “Clean me up.”

I took care of her and then suddenly she was up and out of bed.

“I have to go now,” she said.

“But you only just came!”

“Work, Daddio.  I have a job, remember?”

She went into the bathroom to get ready.  I picked up her phone and went through her browsing history.  I was shocked by what I saw, but I figured I’d ask her about it that evening, when we could explore her fantasies together.  I put down her phone as if I wasn’t looking at it just as she opened the door to the bathroom.  She was putting on her makeup.  “Honest answer,” she called to me, “do I look like a trollop to you?”

“Honestly? – Not enough of a trollop.”

“Perfect.  That’s just what I’m going for.”