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Mysterious Witt – Very Witty & Sexy
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Mysterious Witt
Match, Cinder & Spark
This week, please allow us to introduce a wonderful writer, lover, mom, sex worker, and keyboard comedian – Mysterious Witt!
We’ve been following her on Medium for a while, but recently a few things have happened that changed her and her approach. Her partner was diagnosed with a tumor in his neck and she has shed the shame of those who would judge her and revealed her face for all to see.
She has worked as a dominatrix, worked as a sex author at Hustler and Playboy, had kids, and then recently tried to get back in the biz. But mostly her experiences, past and present, make for incredible reading in the articles she posts on Medium. She also has a Twitter handle and an OnlyFans page, Instagram and a few more outlets for her creative mind and body!
Mysterious Witt
Match, Cinder & Spark
But perhaps her greatest talent is, as her name suggests, her wit! Her Twitter one-liners are so witty that she seems to be the female reincarnation of Nietzsche, bringing back the aphorism!
Here are a few examples for you to enjoy:
I have time for a little drama, but not much.
Good taste is the enemy of art.
A woman’s breasts point outward and are a source of power.
I’m leaning into a woman-led kind of sexual openness that isn’t either shame on one side, or porn on the other. There’s something in the middle but it’s hard to find. Often as women, we move between patriarchal definitions of our sexuality. We have to define our own.
It’s really hard as a recovering people pleaser to acknowledge that not everyone likes me. But whatever.
My DILF just made me pancakes for Father’s Day. Never too late to have a happy childhood, eh?
Here’s where you can find more of her:
Mysterious Witt is a writer and pro-sex educator.
Mysterious Witt
I Need a Dirty Woman, I Need a Dirty Girl
We were into December. It had been almost a month since our last “drive-in” date with Ron and Nicole. In the meantime, they kept up an intense correspondence with us through email. Turns out that they have three kids, all under ten, and she has been dealing with some health issues that have impaired her energy and libido. He is an avid nudist and exhibitionist who loves to go to clothing optional beaches and bare it all! Although he doesn’t have that much to bare. Not to worry, Lo is always intrigued by different shapes and sizes.
Ron
Poor Ron was eager to please – his wife and anyone who would have him. Nicole, however, was not so keen on sex. Even before her medical problems dampened her desire, she was not enthusiastic about her sex life with Ron. They had dated since high school. They were raised as good Catholic kids and told not to have sex before marriage. They got married in their early twenties and that’s when Nicole was disabused of the adage “size doesn’t matter.” No. It really did matter for her. But, due to her upbringing, she wasn’t able to think about alternatives. Masturbation, sex toys, other partners were all off the table. She wasn’t even comfortable with having sex in any other position than missionary.
Nicole
After the birth of their third child and the onset of medical issues, she not only couldn’t feel Ron’s cock, but wasn’t interested in it anymore either.
They had tried a couples’ counselor, a marriage therapist, and now were working with a sex coach. They went to a woman Ron had found on the internet who specializes in Catholic sexuality. She had suggested that they both explore their own bodies alone, with porn, erotica, or whatever excited them. For Ron, that was easy – nude beaches, exposing himself, and being seen, even if only virtually were already in his wheelhouse. He had discovered a number of websites where he could hang-out as much as he wished and no one would be offended.
Ron & Nicole – the happy couple
For Nicole, this was much more difficult because her sexual desire was directly related to her guilt. She required multiple special sessions, one-on-one, with the sexologist. Through the coaching, she slowly learned to appreciate sex and sexuality in a new way. Rather than think of it as a necessary bodily function that had to be endured in order to achieve a certain result, much like relieving oneself in the privy, she was opened up to the idea that sex was sacred, divine, and a sacrament. The Church doesn’t often promote this aspect of sex. Why would they? The officers of the institution are all celibate! It would be like college professors encouraging students to get an education outside of academia.
Nicole
Slowly, Nicole came round to the notion of at least accepting her sexuality rather than being ashamed of it. And that went for Ron’s sexuality as well – if Nicole could accept that she is a sexual being, then this was the first step to accepting that Ron is also a sexual being. The next step was to realize that sexuality is not experienced or expressed uniformly. It is like the sun – its origin is the same, but how it illuminates various objects depends on the individual make-up of each object. Some are square and green. Others are round and pink and white stripes. Similarly, we all feel sexual urges, but they manifest differently for each of us. For some that means hetero, monogamous, vaginal intercourse. But for others, it can be expressed in a myriad of ways – from men wearing woman’s panties, to women donning strap-ons.
Nicole
This was a great hurdle for Nicole to overcome. But, along the way, she was willing to try new things for the sake of the relationship. Through Ron’s explorations of the interweb, he found Lola, struck up a correspondence, included Nicole, and eventually we had our first “date,” which I already described for you. Through our correspondence, it became clear that Ron desperately wanted Lo and Nicole desperately wanted to be like Lo.
Nicole
Lola in her thong
They were eager to have a second date. Due to COVID, we had to take the same precautions, but we arranged to meet in a remote spot, far outside of our city, so that the experience wouldn’t be foiled again.
Ron hanging out
Nicole’s medical issues had done things to her body that caused her even more shame. She didn’t want us to be shocked so, in preparation for our second date and to help her become more comfortable with her body (that Ron, incidentally, found very desirable) she posed for some boudoir photos taken by her husband. They emailed them to us.
“Do you still want to do this?” she asked, afraid we’d be turned off by how gravity distorted her once toned and tight flesh.
“Yes!” replied Lo, enthusiastically. “Every body is beautiful in its own way.”
Much was the same on our second date as it was on the first. Cold. Late night. Dark, vacant parking lot. The two cars parked next to each other. But this time Lo had put some thought into the “performance” she wished to put on for the struggling couple. She stripped naked and danced seductively in front of their headlights. They had on their high-beams and, thanks to the chill, Lo’s were on too!
Lo sauntered up to the passenger side window where Nicole sat and pressed her tits up against the glass. Nicole and Ron had removed their clothing too and Lo could get an imperfect view of them behind the frosted glass and through the round figure eight where her tits had melted the icy coating.
Nicole
Lo returned to the car where we had the heat blasting and took out her phone. She called Ron. Their phone was on speaker, as was ours.
“Did you like what you saw?” Lo asked.
“Very much,” replied Ron.
“Are you hard?” asked Lo.
“As hard as I can get,” he said.
“Yeah, I saw. Two inches?”
“Slightly longer than that, when I’m hard.”
“I’m stroking him,” chimed in Nicole.
“Suck him,” commanded Lo.
“Can we watch you suck off HH?” she asked.
Lo looked up at me. “Will you stay hard if we go outside?”
“For you, darling, anything.”
First she warmed me up in the car with her mouth, the wetness of which only made the shock of the cold air even more acute.
We got in front of the headlights and Lo got on her knees, taking me in her mouth.
We lasted like that for about a minute or so, but then hopped back into the heated car.
Nicole said that Ron had cum already.
“What about you?”
“I haven’t cum in ages,” she said with a certain sadness in her voice. She also sounded resigned to this fact.
“HH is going to suck on my hard nipples,” said Lo, taking me to her chest. “I can cum through nipple stimulation alone.” She didn’t mean to sound as if she was bragging, but wanted to inform them why she’d soon be moaning and even calling out that she’s cumming.
Lo’s Orgasmic Nipples
“I wish I could,” said Nicole.
As I sucked, bit, stretched, nibbled, and tongued Lo’s nipples, we could hear Ron and Nicole getting their clothes back on. They drove away as Lo climaxed, but they left the phone on to hear it.
When Lo regained her composure, she went down on me as I put the car in reverse and drove home.
Truthfully, I forgot that Lo’s phone was still on as I commented about how hot Lo was and what a show she put on for the couple.
Lo occasionally took her lips off of my cock to remark about how she wished we weren’t in COVID times so she could have let Nicole suck her tits through the window or so she could have gone over to the driver’s side, reached down between Ron’s legs and give him a handjob.
She resumed sucking as I drove the abandoned streets. She said she wished that Nicole would wear a strap-on and fuck her over the hood of the car.
Suddenly, through Lo’s phone, we heard moaning and heavy breathing. It was loud – loud enough for us to hear it over my own heavy breathing and Lo’s slurping. It was Nicole. She was cumming.
Ron informed us after the peak had subsided that Nicole masturbated (for the first time!) in the car on the ride home, listening to us and the dirty things Lo was saying and she managed to bring herself to a clitoral climax.
Mission accomplished.
Interview With a Sex Addict
Interview with a Sex Addict
AL gets a new monitor to look at Lo in hi-def while working from home, his wife in the next room
This week, we bring out our resident admitted and diagnosed sex addict, AL, who goes by “Al.” He graciously agreed to answer a few questions about sex addiction, for educational purposes. Lo enthusiastically put on her correspondent’s had (and nothing else) and went to work interviewing him and then, took off the newsgirl hat and teased him, as she does.
- How do you define “sex addict”?
Without Googling, I define a sex addict as someone who compulsively engages in sexual behaviors, despite any negative effects created by said behaviors. They’ve shaped/changed their arousal palette, neural pathways, and reward center to release that sweet, sweet dopamine when engaging in their desired sexual behaviors, even if those behaviors result in negative consequences affecting self, family/friends, job, etc.
- Do you consider yourself a sex addict?
Yes, and if not a sex addict—then definitely addicted to lusting after HH/Lo’s pictures and words! Some days I’ll wake up with Lo on my mind and even though I could just stroke right there and cum—I’d much rather click through her pictures and read their words, first.
- Tell me more. How did you come to the conclusion that you are a sex addict?
Obviously, I was living life under the self-delusion that I just had high sex drive and a wandering eye. But after multiple therapists—which were a waste of time in the beginning since I never was actually honest about the extent of my situation—I had one in particular suggest that maybe I have a sex addiction. She also stated that it wasn’t her expertise, so she couldn’t help me in the way I needed. After some reading and podcasts, I reached out to a CSAT (Certified Sex Addiction Therapist) and decided to “come clean,” which coincided with my “rock bottom.” It was through her that I was diagnosed as having a sex addiction.
- Tell me what “rock bottom” meant for you since we all have different bottoms (no pun intended).
What I mean by rock bottom…long story, short: I racked up multiple thousands of dollars on credit cards in my name (via webcam girls, buying girls things, etc.); I was constantly checking sites like PornHub, Xvideos, eFukt, mysexlifewithlola.com; stopping by strip clubs for lap dances; even seeking out guys with whom to share naked photos/videos of my wife; seeking escorts for random encounters; cheating on my (then) fiancée with girls that she hated.
- You’re married to a beautiful, sexy woman. How’s that relationship?
Yes, she is very beautiful and sexy. We’ve been married five years, and together for over ten. We’ve definitely experienced our share of ups and downs. It’s the downs that seem to linger, but that is part of the work. She picked up on some red flags but continued on (as did I). Historically, she hasn’t had a ‘high’ (or medium for that matter) sex drive, and mistakenly, I used to ascribe a lot of the blame on her for my acting out. That was wrong of me. Part of the process involved a ‘disclosure’ of all events/actions that I had hidden away—that was difficult, borderline catastrophic. I ended up making it worse by not being completely honest during my first disclosure, meaning I didn’t come clean to all the details until a second disclosure months later.
Ironically, we’re closer and more strategic (in a non-sexual way) with our relationship now that I’m in recovery. She also sees a therapist who is familiar with partner betrayal (which is very important, or else sometimes the partner receives an unfair share of shame and blame). She doesn’t fully understand (can anyone, really?) but she’s working hard, as am I (sometimes). We do not have sex often, as I’m sure one might wonder…in fact, I’m lucky if it’s once a week and not a quickie. I can see that a day doesn’t go by where it doesn’t hurt her, but life is complicated, and the goal is to be in a better spot than we were.
[Trigger Warning – non-consent]
- Did you have any formative sexual experiences in early life?
Yes. At age 3 or 4, my next-door neighbor—who was around 5- or 6-year-old—introduced me to kissing and touching. She would take me in to the closet and show me first-hand what she must have been introduced to by whomever was (sadly) showing her. Additionally, when I was six, I had a handful of experiences involving my cousin (same age) and her friend, “trying to be like adults.”
I would also add that access to pornography at a young age was formative in itself. The internet really changed things, as well. I grew up in an unstable household; I sought pleasure and seclusion. Given those needs and that environment, it’s no wonder to me that I latched on to the pleasures of ‘sex’ to escape.
- Best sexual experience?
This is a tricky one…my best sexual experience would most likely be with one of my exes— she was amazing in bed…always wanted to fuck, loved to swallow, and LOVED doing it in public places. I think we were at some random party and their bathroom suited us just fine!
- Worst sexual experience?
Is that possible? JK. One of the worst experiences would be one of my first escort experiences. The situation was shady AF, which only prevented me from getting (and remaining) hard. I hadn’t experienced that before, and it was awkward. I remember desperately trying to squeeze my flaccid condom-covered cock inside of her. She understood, but I ended up having to settle for a hand job.
- Who knows of your addiction, if anyone?
As it stands right now, five people are aware of my addiction: my counselor, my wife, my wife’s best friend, one of my closest friends from high school, and oddly enough, one of my professors from my first year back at school. I’ve debated sharing with my brother (I think he has some similar issues) and my 14-year-old son.
- How long have you been in treatment for sex addiction? And do you feel it has worked?
I’ve been in treatment for 3+ years now with a CSAT. It definitely helped me become more aware. I’m sure there are workbooks, strict plans, etc. Before disclosure, we simply identified the really ‘bad’ behaviors (escorts, strip clubs, webcam girls) and put in mitigation efforts (GPS tracking on phone, website filters on phone and laptop). That’s actually the easy part. The hard part is the act of disclosure (if you’re honest enough), and all of the ‘work’ when no one is looking—that’s where the real gains can be made (or lost).
- What would you say to people reading this who are asking themselves: Am I a sex addict or do I just have a healthy sexual appetite?
I would say: enjoy sex. I personally see it as a life enhancer (similar to good food or music); however, if things start getting bad and you’re hiding a lot from people, that can spiral and add so much (unnecessary) stress. Long story short, if there are bad things happening because of one’s sexual appetite, then one should at least look at their impact and see if any adjustments should be made. Life is much more fun being authentic!
- Have you ever met a female sex addict? If so, describe what that interaction was like?
I’ve only read about and been told about them, never meeting one in person. I know they’re out there, but the stereotypical addict seems to fall on males and the partner role is assumed to be female.
- Why do you think sex addiction has become such a popular topic lately?
I think it’s because sex sells and some people look at it as a crutch or excuse to do what they do. (Which is fine, unless you’re causing unnecessary damage as a result of it.)
- Have you read any literature out there about sex addicts or sex addiction? If so, what do you recommend?
Facing the Shadow, Patrick Carnes
“Sex Help with Carol the Coach” (podcast)
“Behind Closed Doors” with Dr. Kate Balestrieri (podcast)
- Would you prefer if you were not a sex addict? Why or why not?
I like being who I am, and I like what I’m into. What I’d prefer is being upfront with significant others, and saying: “Hey, this is me…like it or leave it.” I think I grew up in shitty situations, so I’d use sex, love, flirting, etc. as my drug. Throw in the internet, and being someone who is good at lying, and that’s a potent combination.
- Biggest trouble that sex addiction got you into?
This list is ongoing, but you’re only in trouble if you get caught! (JK) Gigantic credit card bills…I’m a sucker for spoiling a slut or camgirl, lol. Racking those up was the primary driver in hitting my bottom.
- You seem to be successful at your job and still married and a parent. Is there such a thing as a “high functioning” sex addict like there is for a “high functioning alcoholic”? Describe.
Actually, I do think there is such a thing. I was so intrigued by this question, that I even asked it of my counselor—she agreed. Part of being a high functioning sex addict would require being able to compartmentalize almost anything and any time. In doing so, you’re able to build a rationale on the matter. I also know the things I cannot do—although I want to: the strip clubs, seeing escorts, flirting with a slut. And so I am able to navigate the decisions I make, and the steps I take to cover up those decisions if they are of the variety that would ‘give me away.’
- Pros and cons of being a sex addict?
Pros: Good ol’ fashioned dopamine at a relatively inexpensive cost (not including the externalities); typically, a more open, and inclusive mind… Cons: Can be relationship killer, money-drainer, and/or source of depression if not approached correctly (is there a correct way? Asking for a friend, lol).
- Top five fantasy fucks?
#1 – You!
#2 – An all-night bang session with my wife and her best friend.
#3 – Be part of a gangbang…with some amateur local wife.
#4 – DVP (Double Vaginal Penetration, or two penises in the vagina) with my wife.
#5 – You!
- Sexual experience you haven’t had yet but would like to try?
I’ve always wanted to try a threesome, both MMF and MFF. Also, I’ve ALWAYS wanted to share my wife…I can think of multiple scenarios involving her…me watching, not watching, listening, being shown, etc.
- Bonus question: From what you know of me, do you think I’m a sex addict?
From what I’ve gathered, and if analyzed with the actual truths, I do. But do I think there are huge negative consequences affecting you? Probably not, given our society.
After our interview was over, Lo was naughty and engaged in the following interaction:
Lola: I wonder how your jacking off to me plays into your current recovery and relationship with your wife. For instance, what happens when I send you a photo like this?
Lola Teasing
AL: Besides the mini dopamine rush and flinch of my cock? Or, are you looking for how many times I’ve already clicked on the picture, to enlarge and admire it?
Lola: I like to know that you think about me when you stroke that lovely cock of yours to my photos. Now write about that experience. Include where your wife is. How you keep this solo session from her? How it makes you feel? How I make you feel?
AL: Right now, my wife’s sleeping next to me naked. I’m in the bed, hard as a rock, looking at your photos. To tell the truth, I forgot how hard I get reading about you; way harder than looking at porn, that’s for sure.
All solo getting off has to be done on the sly for me. My wife and I have a soft agreement that I’m supposed to inform her when I ‘take care of myself.’. . . I often seek out your photos to simply admire and your stories to see what you’re up to, but. . . one thing leads to another. I don’t always tell my wife when I got off alone and I certainly don’t disclose what I looked at/thought about, especially when it was you. But these behaviors do cause me to develop a guilt factor when I’m wanting to take care of myself—which I don’t necessarily like.
I am fully aware that you don’t help my addiction. However, I am also aware that I have needs too, and my mind is fully capable of rationalizing the fact that getting off to your pictures is a lot safer than the ‘acting out’ behaviors I used to engage in.
Keeping you – your pictures and your stories – hidden away from my therapist and my wife certainly doesn’t help my situation, but, as long as I am careful and respectful, it doesn’t necessarily hurt. I like to think it keeps me in somewhat of a steady-state (which I think is only possible because of the fact that I am ‘high-functioning’ sex addict, as you called it). Deep down, I know that these are behaviors that need to change in order to fully ‘recover.’ But I have to ask myself two things: “Is recovery what I really want?” and “Where’s the fun in that?”
Lola: So you’re saying that getting off to me is what we might call ‘harms reduction’?
AL: That’s an interesting take, but yes, sort of a lesser of two evils (although you’re not evil; naughty, yes, but not evil as far as I know, haha). It’s kind of like, I know it is still reinforcing neural pathways that I’m trying to change, but still I pursue that behavior because of my brain’s ability to rationalize and compartmentalize.
Lola: Thought experiment – what would happen if you were married to me and I constantly had guys (and gals) coming over in order to cum over, in, on, to, with, and for me and you were there to watch? Would that be a cure?
AL: Now that just sounds hot! If that scenario were real, and guys and girls were coming over to cum with, in, and on you, then I think I’d be in my happy place, as long as you (as my wife) wanted it, and so did I. (I do, btw, I very much do!)
Hot & Cold
When I left, Lo and I were in a big fight. It’s never good to leave for a week-long business trip halfway across the country on bad terms. Especially with Lo. There wasn’t one thing that was the catalyst of this rift, but rather lots of little things. Both she and I had been dealing with pressures at work, I had been recovering from the flu, she had an unexpected major expense that had to be paid. We both were stressed, exhausted, and short-tempered. Each of us had been prickly with the other, like two porcupines in close quarters.
“Come here, Daddio,” she said the night before I left as I was getting ready for bed. It was her way of trying to rekindle the relationship. “I’m so cold. Come and warm me up.” Though she really was cold, she also was naked on the bed, spreading her legs for me, rubbing her puss.
“Cold? Looks to me like you have a very warm fleece,” I said of her au naturel triangle, “and all that friction you’re making might light that bush on fire.” The words came out more sarcastic and biting than I intended. My loving little banter was not warmly received.
“If you don’t like it, you can’t have it,” she shot back, covering herself with the blankets.
“I never said I didn’t like it.”
“Well, too late. This bush is only for someone who truly appreciates me.”
“And who might that be?”
“ME!” she said, pulling out her Hitachi, her dildo, and her phone.
No sooner had she gotten the giant white ice cream cone revved up and the dildo delved in deep and the phone queued to one of her favorite porn videos than, to her great surprise, the phone rang! She nearly jumped out of the bed. She dropped the Hitachi and it was still buzzing. Her dildo was left dangling, and she had to fumble with her phone as she said hello because all the moaning and groaning sounds of the porno film were still playing.
“Hi Lo,” the person on the other end said, “Is this an ok time?”
“Yeah. Yes. Sure. Just one sec.,” said Lo as she tried to compose herself and shut off all her stimulation devices. Finally she was focused on the call and I climbed into bed next to her, stroking my cock. Seeing her pleasure herself still gets me off after all this time. But seeing her interrupted and frustrated is a rare delight.
It was Robert. He needed someone to talk to. He was feeling despondent. And he had been scrolling through the blog.
I curled up next to Lo and whispered, “Don’t tell him I’m here,” as I guided my cock into her cupped hand. She mindlessly gave me a hand-job as she talked to Robert. Or rather, I should say, I eased my way in-and-out of her palm. She was unaware of or unconcerned with my movements.
She talked to him in a consoling and kind tone, listening to his lament of loneliness. He hadn’t been with someone in so long. The night at the museum was such a powerful moment for him. Since then he had done more study of Koons and his Made in Heaven installation.
When I heard that, I was both amused and angered. I’m the one who turned Lo onto Koons! I deserve the credit for that. Whatever.
I continued to slide my cock in-and-out of her cupped hand. I kept quiet.
“What did you like about it?” asked Lo to Robert in her seductive tone of voice.
“I, um, I liked, I like that you suggested it to me.”
“Really?” asked Lo, intrigued. “Why?”
“Lo, I, uh, I never met a woman like you.”
“Go on,” she said, captivated by the story of herself.
“You’re so brazen. Is that the right word? So, daring. So. . .”
“Slutty?”
“That’s not the word I was going to use.”
“Use it,” she commanded.
“What?” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her properly.
“Call me a slut. I like it. Say it. I’m touching myself now.”
She wasn’t. She was holding the phone with one hand and my member with the other.
“OK,” said Robert. “You’re a slut.”
“Yesss,” said Lo.
That was too much for me. I pulled back and grabbed my cock and came all over myself as Lo looked on, desirously.
Now she was touching herself.
“Are you jackin’ it?” she asked Robert.
“Am I. . . ?”
“Are you jacking off? Stroking yourself?”
“No,” he said, as if offended.
“Why not?”
“Lo, I didn’t call you like someone would call a phone sex service.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. I. . .”
“But you can. What do you want to hear?”
There was a long silence on the other end interrupted only by Lo’s occasional moans of pleasure. Self-pleasure.
“Do you want to hear that I loved sucking you off?” she asked.
“You did?”
“Yessss,” she said.
“Why?”
“I love sucking cock. Any cock. Lots of cock. I love helping guys out. I love giving relief. Let me help you. Are you by your computer?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Pull up a pic of me if you haven’t already.”
“I, I, I,” Robert stammered.
“You already had it up, didn’t you?” accused Lo.
“I did,” he admitted.
“Good. Which pic is it?”
“It’s of you in your neon blue panties stroking your pussy lips.”
“You like that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Well that’s exactly what I’m doing right now. I’m stroking my wet, pink, pussy lips with my beautifully manicured fingers, slowly sliding them up and down and in and out. Does that turn you on?”
“Yes.”
“Are you stroking your cock?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, I want you to hang up the phone and take pics of you stroking it to my pics. Make sure my photo is in the frame so I know that I’m the one who is making you hard and makes you cum. You will cum, won’t you?”
“If you want me to.”
“I do.”
“OK.”
“Do it and send me the pics.”
“OK.”
“And Robert.”
“Yes?”
“What am I?”
“A dirty, filthy slut.”
“That’s right. Don’t forget it,” she said and she hung up on him.
I was cleaning myself off when she got the notification that a text was sent to her. She opened it. There were three photos. One of Robert jackin’ it to her pics. One of him cumming. And one of the mess he made. Lo looked at them again and again and she eventually came herself.
“Thanks,” I said.
“For what?” she said.
“For making me cum,” I said.
“Oh, did I do that?” she asked, sincerely unaware of her passive powers.
The next morning, before Lo woke up, I was off to the airport, sad that we hadn’t properly reconciled.
Deep C Fishing
I had just returned from a week-long fishing trip with three of my friends. For the record, I despise fishing. Fishing is for people who want to be in nature but who don’t know how simply to be in nature without purpose, goal, or utilitarian project. I am not of their ilk. The silver lining to this trip was that it was up in the mountains, on a lake, in a log cabin. The downside to this trip was that there was absolutely no wi-fi within a twenty mile radius of where we were staying. That meant no communication with Lo for a week!
I was nearly beside myself needing a fix of her lovely skin, her soft touch, her caress. I didn’t even have her voice to sustain me. No gradual withdrawal from her, my drug of choice. No substitute for her intoxicant. The closest I could get was a specially curated set of photos I had of her stored on my phone. “Favorites.”
We did get radio and this classic rock song played, mocking my predicament:
I’m out a luck, out a love
Gotta photograph, picture of
Passion killer, you’re too much
You’re the only one I want to touch
I see your face every time I dream
On every page, every magazine
So wild and free so far from me
You’re all I want, my fantasy
Yes, I missed her. I craved her. I wanted to praise her. And I did, telling my friends what I could about my little nymph, without revealing too much or our special dalliances that are reserved just for us – oh, and all of you, our lovely reading public.
At night, I set up her image on my phone and sat at my computer to write sexy, sensual stories to her, for her, about her. I dreamt of the naughty things she was doing while I was away. I would look at the photos as lyrics from a song filtered in from the other room:
Photograph I don’t want your
Photograph I don’t need your
Photograph all I’ve got is a photograph
But it’s not enough
My pals knew how devoted to Lo I was, but they were unaware of how free I allow her to be. One of them walked in while I was writing. Seeing my phone on the desk next to me with Lo’s image on it, he casually picked it up. I made as if to protest, but I didn’t protest too much. He looked at the photos I had of her – naughty photos – and shared his discovery with the others. They ridiculed me, ribbed me, and teased me for my Playboy internet pornstar.
Even the radio mocked me with the lyrics:
You can’t imagine what your image means.
The pages come alive.
Your magic greets everyone who reads.
Heart-break in overdrive
Are you for real, it’s so hard to tell, from just a magazine.
Yeah, you just smile and the picture sells, look what that does to me.
One night, after many shots of whiskey, they eventually pried out of me a confession of her sins. They sat, wide-eyed, hard-up, and enraptured by the stories I spun. At first they doubted, then they shouted, and finally they pouted. They wanted her. Two of my three friends were married. One had been dating for under a year. They envied me as I felt pangs of guilt for revealing the innermost sanctum of our little mystery cult of two.
They say that all of us live three lives: a public; a private; and a secret life. Where is my life with Lo? It’s secret, on one level. But not secret to each other. It’s private, between the two of us. But yet we publish it for all to see. Our most intimate parts are literally on display for the world.
Revealing who we are to you, our dear readers, is one thing. Saying it directly, face-to-face to close, and long-time friends of flesh-and-blood is another. They know the public, curated portrait of our coupled relationship. That image is professional, wholesome, vanilla. We do little to ‘queer the space,’ as the saying goes.
Privately, we are a kinky couple who invite others to join in with our merry mischief. We are content doing this and feel no shame, no guilt about healthy, non-monogamous trysts. Lo simply acts on the fantasies that many women share, but rarely articulate, even to their lovers.
Secretly, we each find delight in her exhibitionist tendencies. That’s no secret to you, dear reader, but, if you happen to know us IRL (‘in real life’), we’d appreciate your keeping it to yourself. Thanks.
But now, three of my closest friends were in on it. Not as in on it as you are, mind you, since I didn’t reveal to them anything about the blog. But they were in the know about Lo’s sweet, sexy, slutty side. To my surprise, they were not only envious, but desirous. Each of them requested a night alone with my phone. Since there was no wi-fi, I thought it would be fine. They couldn’t email themselves Lo’s sexy pics. They couldn’t text them to themselves. What harm would there be in letting my three friends get their rocks off to my girlfriend’s nude selfies?
It turns out I was quite naïve. At the time, I knew nothing of “AirDrop” and how it could work without wi-fi. Needless to say, all three of my friends now have Lo’s sexy pics on their phones and who knows how many other friends of theirs as well! (I only found this out much later.)
Fishing, drinking, and jacking off to Lola was how we spent the rest of the week.
On the ride home, as soon as I was reconnected to the invisible world that surrounds us, I texted Lo. I let her know my ETA. She responded with: “TCB.” That is, “Taking Care of Business,” our code for her masturbating. I couldn’t wait to see her.
The guys dropped me off at home and I eagerly entered the house. I found Lo wearing my flannel shirt, unbuttoned to her navel, and nothing else. What a welcome sight!
I followed her to the bedroom, telling her how wonderful she looked. Eager to preserve the moment, I took out the camera and shot a few sexy pics of her lying on the bed looking like the perfect temptress.
“Tell me about your week, Daddio,” she asked.
“Later. Let me have you first,” I said, impatiently.
“Oh, but Daddio, I haven’t heard from you all week. Tell me about it.”
“Later, Lo,” I pleaded. “I want you now.”
She was clearly enjoying the role reversal of Coy and Craving.
I started to grab at her. “You know, I’m not fast food. You can’t just order and have your meal.”
“Let me spread my mayonnaise on you,” I said.
“Oh Daddio, so crude!”
“Lo, you don’t understand.”
“I’m not really into it right now,” she said. She was truly going to milk this for all she could, and not in a good way.
“But I’ll get you into it by getting into you!”
“No, no,” she said like a coquette. “Tell me about your fishing trip.”
“Let me plunge my fishing rod deep in your C,” I responded.
Then it struck me with great irony that here I am, a writer of erotica, rushing to physical gratification when all Lo wanted was to be wooed by my words. She wanted me to tell her a naughty story. And fortuitously, I had a good story to tell.
I got up close next to her and told her about how much I missed her, how I longed for her, how I gazed at her photos while writing stories about her, and how I got found out by the guys. I revealed that her seductive image was used not only by me but by the other three as well. Though it clearly upset her to know that they had seen her, it also excited her to know that they used her photos to get off. Cognitive dissonance.
“Do you think that they stole my photos and have them on their phones?” she asked.
“How could they?” I responded. “There was no wi-fi.”
“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “If they did, do you think that they’d look at them at night while their wives were sleeping?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“Do you think that when they see me, they’ll picture me naked?”
“Not only that, I bet they’ll picture you doing all sorts of naughty things.”
“Like what things?” she asked.
“Sucking cock.”
“Just one?”
“Sucking cocks,” I said, correcting myself. “Fucking many guys. Dogging strangers at truck rest stops.”
She was getting riled up now.
“Have me, Daddy,” she said.
Finally! The words I longed to hear all week!
She spread her legs wide, but then she said, “Wait,” just as I was about to plunge in.
“What?”
“Wait,” she repeated. “Do you have a condom?”
“A condom? No. Why?”
“I’m ovulating something fierce right now.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“No. You’ve been on the wagon for a week. You’re not to be trusted.”
“I haven’t slipped a puck passed the goalie yet.”
“Will you stop with that awful analogy.”
She had her hands behind her knees and her knees up to her ears. She looked up at me. She wanted me, desperately. I wanted her even more desperately. She moved one of her hands to grab my cock. She bounced the tip of it off her clit a few times and let out a moan.
“Are we good?” I asked.
“Jack it,” she commanded.
“I could have jacked it all week. I want you.”
“What do you mean you could have jacked it all week? Not without permission you can’t,” she said, reminding me of the rules.
“But you gave me permission, remember? You said I could jack it so long as I jacked it to your pics and only your pics. That was the whole reason that we took those sexy pics that the guys found on my phone.”
“And you didn’t jack it?”
“No.”
“Not to me? Not to my pics?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I wanted you. I looked to your pics for inspiration. I wrote like three novels up there about you, just gazing at your sexy photos.”
“But they jacked it to my pics?”
“Yes.”
Just the thought of it caused her to squirt on my incredibly hard phallus.
“Jack it,” she said again. I could see that the image in her mind of guys jacking off to her photos was playing on her interior screen. “Jack it like a man,” she repeated.
I grabbed my cock with my left hand. She watched me. “Do you like my pussy, Daddy?”
“Yes, Lo.”
“Play with it.”
I didn’t know if she wanted me to play with my cock or her puss. It was ambiguous.
I let go of my member and she continued to hold both her legs back with her hands. I gently caressed her hips and slid my hands down from the back of her knees to her inner thigh. With both hands I pulled and pushed her pussy lips – spreading them apart, squeezing them together.
“Yeah,” she moaned. She squirted on my hands and the warm liquid dribbled down her ass. I let my fingers strum her perineum and anus. She moaned, indicating she liked what I was doing. I let my right thumb run circles over her special spot.
“I missed you, Daddy,” she said.
“Did you jill it when I was away?”
“Yes,” she said.
“How many times?”
“I don’t know. A lot.”
“To what?”
“I don’t know. Anything. Everything. Sometimes I thought about you. Sometimes I thought about other men. Sometimes I thought about other women. Videos, pics that people send me, stories that you wrote, stories that other people wrote.”
“Did you talk on the phone to anyone?”
“No Daddy.”
“Did you have anyone over?”
“No Daddy.”
“Did you want to?”
“I always want to, Daddy.”
She came again. She slapped her right hand on her pussy to keep the ejaculation flowing. Then she took her soaking hand and stroked my cock.
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She reached down, up and under my cock, grabbing my balls from beneath.
“They’re so big, Daddy. Are they full?”
“So full, Lo,” I said.
She cupped them and one of her fingers pushed its way further back until she was doing to me what I had been doing to her.
“Cum, Daddy. I want you to cum. Let it out. That’s it. Be a good dog and let it go.”
I could take it no longer. I grabbed my throbbing rod and fired off a load that shot up past her shoulder onto the pillow. Missed. But the second spurt was more accurate. It made a high arc and landed squarely on her face. Seeing that, more followed until I was falling back on my haunches in a fit of ecstasy and exhaustion.
“I’m hit! I’m hit!” she cried out. “Don’t just lie there, do something!”
All I could do was let out a chuckle amid my heavy heaving breaths.
She got up from the bed, my cum dripping down onto her breasts, and got a washcloth from the bathroom to clean up.
“Feeling better?” she asked as she looked down at me from the side of the bed.
“You have no idea,” I said.
Inveterate Masturbator
It’s almost 9:00 a.m. and Lo hasn’t emerged from the bedroom yet. I walk into the bedroom and as I open the door I find her lying on the bed, tum down, ass up, in her left hand she holds her phone and she is staring at it intently as her right hand manipulates a dildo in her puss and another in her ass. She looks up briefly, caught in the act.
“I would join you, but I see you’re full up,” I say snidely.
“You can be next. Just give me about ten more minutes.”
“You realize, it’s a quarter-to-nine, right?”
She waves me off, resentful of the interruption, concerned about the distraction.
When I walk in again at five-to-nine, she’s already in her tight pants, her pumps, and blouse, ready to go to work.
“What happened to my turn?” I inquire.
“Sorry Daddio, but I only had room for three this morning.”
“What do you mean, room for three?”
“I mean, three orgasms.”
“I didn’t even hear you.”
She shrugs her shoulders and walks into the bathroom to fix her hair. When she does, I take a surreptitious glance at her phone. I see that she had made a phone call at 8:47 to Brian. I guess that’s why she was so quiet.
“You know,” I call to her from the bed, “you’re an inveterate masturbator.”
“What’s ‘inveterate’ mean, Daddy?” she asks in her little-girl voice.
“Chronic, confirmed, hardened, incurable, incorrigible, habitual, unrepentant.”
“Yep, that sounds like me. I like it: Inveterate Masturbator. It could be my superhero name.”
“And your superpower would be. . . making yourself cum?”
“That and the power to make others cum. You want to cum, Daddio?” she asks teasingly.
“Yes, yes I do!”
“Tell me more.”
“I want to cum. Isn’t that enough?”
“Tell me how you want to cum,” she says, walking over to me and putting her hand on my crotch.
“I want to cum in you, on you, for you, under you – choose your preposition.”
“Do you want me to tug your cock and jack you off or do you want me to suck it or do you want to fuck my puss or do you want to fuck my ass?”
“Preferably, a little of each, you know, like tapas.”
“Hmmm,” she hums, “I like that.” Then, abruptly, she turns and walks out of the bedroom. “Too bad I have to go to work,” she calls over her shoulder. “I guess you’ll just have to be hard-up for me all day.”
That is too much. All niceties are off. “What about your friend?” I call back to her.
“My friend?” she asks as she slips into her heels.
“Yeah, Brian, who you had phone sex with this morning.”
“Daddy,” she says, stopping in her tracks, “you were snooping.”
“Yeah, so. It doesn’t change the fact.”
“Well, I guess you’ll just have to be really hard-up all day until I get home and have the time to tell you about it. Kisses,” she says as she puckers up. I am in no mood to kiss her after that torture. She waits with her eyes closed. When she feels nothing on her lips, she opens one eye and then the other. “Fine,” she says, “if you don’t want to kiss me, I’ll find someone who does.”
With that she walks out the door.
Match, Cinder & Spark: Volume II – MORE! is now available for your e-reader!
Match, Cinder & Spark: Volume II – MORE! is now available for your e-reader!
You can order your copy here:
9 Best Sites For Free Erotica
We want to send a very BIG THANK YOU to Emma McGowan for including us on her short list of “9 Best Sites for Free Erotica, Because Porn Doesn’t Cut It For Some of Us“!!!!
Lo and I were away for a long weekend (new steamy stories will be posted at a later date) and when we got back we found, to our great surprise, a spike in our daily hits. When looking over the stats, we discovered why – because we were in this article from Bustle.com.
We had not heard of Bustle before, but we sure will be checking it out.
We also want to congratulate the other great blogs listed – some of whom we’ve followed for years. Congrats to:
and
Greta of Filled and Fooled
In addition to these long-time friends, there are three new authors for us to discover as well as one of Lo’s favorite places for masturbatory indulgences:
Lastly, we would greatly appreciate it if you would take the time to vote for us as one of 2015’s Best Sex Blogs over at Kinkly.com Here’s the link to vote in one simple click! They say you only have until October 8.
And if you could nominate us for Rori’s Between My Sheets Top Sex Bloggers for 2015 as well, we’d really appreciate it!
Thanks so much.
Below is a pic of Lo getting off to literotica.com. No, it doesn’t make me jealous to see her jillin’ it to some other person’s words. No, not at all. What gives you that idea?
