Category Archives: Sex

Hopeless, Romantic

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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.”

Masturbation Monday: Creative Writing and Performance Art

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Creative Writing and Performance Art

 

I heard her typing as she sat across the couch from me, but I also heard her moaning.

“Lo,” I asked, looking over the brim of my book, “what are you up to?”

“Oh nothing, Daddy,” she said, but the biting of her lip that followed her response belied her words.

Now I looked more carefully.  Her hand was shifting from her computer keyboard to her crotch.  (She reclined on the couch in just her oversized nightshirt.)

“Care to share?” I asked.

“In just a moment,” she said, typing and masturbating in turn.

When she finally came – pressing her legs together tightly so as not to ejaculate – she slammed the laptop closed and then looked at me, blushing and panting.

“Yes?” I inquired.  “Can I help you?”

“You sure can,” she said, getting up and commanding me from her standing position to march into the bedroom.  She lifted the shirt that draped over her butt, revealing her sweet ass to me as she wiggled it enticingly.

I placed my bookmark between the pages and got up, knowing I was expected to perform.  Lo’s masturbatory exercises are more often than not just a warm-up for sex and her two or three orgasms that result from the sex are just a warm-up for her next masturbatory session.  In logic we call it a ‘vaginal-circle.’

Once horizontal in the bed, I asked her what this was all about as I aligned my cock with the opening between her legs and began to slide in.

“Don’t you believe in foreplay anymore?” she asked as she squeezed her tits and pulled on her nipples, extending them as far as they would stretch.

“What was your solo session on the couch just now if not foreplay?”

“Look,” she said, very demandingly, “look at these.”  She indicated her chest by taking her tits in her hands and squeezing them hard and pointing her nipples at me.  “Many men – and women – would love this rack in their face.”

“I see,” I said, impressed by her impertinence.  “And you too seem to enjoy them – enough for both of us!”

“Well, what are they for if not enjoying?  Here,” she said, pulling my hands to her nipples, “pinch, twist, pull.  Repeat.”

I humored her for a while as she moaned.  My fondling her breasts freed up her hands to pinch, twist, pull and repeat on her pussy lips – something that gets her very aroused.

“You may pet my ass now,” she said, rolling onto her tum and raising her bum in the air.

I slapped her ass hard and said, “That’s so you’ll come to your senses.”

“I cum to a lot of things.  Cumming to my senses is one, but cumming to your cock is more fun.”

“Then let me have you.”

“No.  Not just yet, Daddio.  Play with my ass,” she implored, grabbing her ass cheeks with both hands and showing me exactly the spot she wanted touched.  I obliged.  “Mmmm, yeah,” she cooed.  “I wish you could take a picture of that so I could see it.”

“You need one of those extension poles people carry with them nowadays,” I said, not knowing the proper terminology.

“It’s called a selfie stick.”

“Selfie stick?  Don’t you have a few of those under the bed?”

“Ha!” she chuckled, “Don’t make me laugh.  Not now.  I want to. . .”  She came, squirting downward on the bed.  The combination of the gentle caress of my finger rounding her target and laughing broke the dam.  “Finger me, Daddio.  Feel how wet I am.”

“Lo, I see how wet you are.  Let me feel you with my cock.  I’ll put in my dipstick and give you a more accurate reading of your fluids.”

“Oh, Daddy.  Why do you use such horrid metaphors?”

“Because, my dear, you’re like a BMW – it’s not the price, it’s the maintenance that will get you.”

“OK,” she said, flipping over onto her back, spreading her legs wide, looking up at me.  “How can I deny that raging rod?  Get in me and I’ll tell you what I was up to on the couch.”

She didn’t have to ask twice.  I was stem-to-stern in, our faces cheek-to-jowl.  She whispered in my ear:

 

Another hotwife found our blog and reached out to me.  She’s married to a fifty-year-old and she’s in her thirties.  She’s ‘very bi,’ as she says, and eager to be with a woman again.  And not just any woman, but a woman like me – dominant, sub, sexy, femme, who can give and take a giant cock.  She wants us to get together and I was just telling her how I fantasize it would happen.  After drinks in a hotel lobby, we’d go up to the hotel room.  Since her man is older than you (twice my age, in fact) and you’re older than she and she’s older by ten years than I, the three of you would marvel at me – this young meat.  You’d all be salivating, wondering who would get to have me first.  But I would have it all planned out.

In the hotel room I’d stand still in my heels, blouse, and short skirt.  I’d tell you that each of you gets to remove one article of clothing.  Only one.  We’d go in age order – youngest to oldest – and so she’d begin by slowly unbuttoning my blouse as I stood stone still.  One-by-one she’d undo the buttons until my blouse was wide open and then she’d slowly undo the buttons of the cuffs and ever-so-gently guide my arms out of the sleeves until I was standing in nothing but my bra on top.

Then it would be your turn.  You’d look me up and down and consider, ‘Shoes?  Blouse?  Bra?’  Generous guy that you are, you’d let them have the choice articles, so you’d go for unzipping my blouse and letting it fall to the floor around my feet.  I’d continue to be unmoving, like a manikin.

Then the older gent would have to pick – bra or panties?  Being a gentleman, he’d go for the bra and carefully unclasp it from the back.  His trembling hands would slowly, reverently pull down my shoulder straps and, thinking the bra would fall, he’d step back to watch his handiwork.  But I’d use my arms to keep it up so that he’d have to tug on it a bit to get it fully off of my torso.

Then it would be her turn again and she’d get on her knees and, using her long, delicate fingers, she’d pull down my thong little-by-little until it fell around my ankles.

I’d continue to stand still and say, in the same order, you may touch, pull, squeeze, grope, kiss – whatever you want.  It would all be very Marina Abramovic.  It would be your turn and so you’d come right up to me and kiss me on the lips, whispering, ‘I love you.’

Then it would be his turn and, thoroughly loving my young, perky tits, he’d cup them, caress them, hold them, squeeze them, pull on the nipples.  He’d step back, letting his wife approach.  She’d again get down on her knees and she’d ever-so-slightly kiss my pussy as her hands reached behind me and grabbed my ass.

This would go on for some time as each of you enjoy whichever part of me you wish.  Then I’d say, ‘Put me on the bed.’  The three of you would lift me and smoothly place me on my back on the bed.  I’d spread my legs and, since it would be her turn, I’d call her to me to place her face there and eat me out.

Next it would be your turn and you would go in, but only for a moment, before I’d say, ‘That’s all for you, HH.’

Then it would be his turn.  He would be allowed to penetrate me, but he’d have to wear a condom that his wife would put on – her hands pulling the ring down the shaft of his cock and pointing him right into me.  He’d have a good go at me for a while.

After each of you had a turn with me on my back, I’d turn over and get on all fours.  By this time she would have her strap-on fully in place and she’d fuck me good and hard from behind.  Then it would be your turn again, and finally his.  I’m sure I’d cum multiple times through this exquisite torture.  Finally, when I felt I couldn’t take it any longer, I’d flip over onto my back again and I’d have her get on her knees at the foot of the bed and eat me out while the two of you jacked it over my open mouth until you both came over me in unison.

 

The whole time she was telling me this story, I was barely moving inside her for fear of interrupting her lovely imaginings with my orgasm.  But that didn’t stop her from cumming and cumming again, each time having to take deep breaths before continuing her story.

“Is that what you were writing?”

“Yes, Daddy.  I know I’m bad.”

“And this admirer of yours?”

“She told me it made her cum a lot.”

“So, she wants to get together?”

“Yes.”

“And him?”

“I assume so.”

“And you?”

“I can’t wait.”

“So, this is your way of asking permission?”

“No, this is my way of telling you what’s going to happen.”

“So you want me to cum on your face.”

“Yes.  Badly.”

“Now.”

“Always.”

“That would prove difficult.  How about we start with now?”

“Yes.”

I pulled out and got on my knees next to her and she reached up, grabbed my cock, stroked it and it only needed one or two caresses of her hand before, seeing her open mouth, I shot like a bottle rocket.  The first spurt went clear across the bed.  She readjusted the aim and pulled my cock down towards her face and managed to get covered with the second, third, and fourth rounds.

“Had your fill?” I asked as she began to clean up.

“Did I ever tell you my bukkake fantasies?”

“Lo, I’m not up for any more fantasies tonight,” I said.

She grabbed my limp dick and said, “I can see that.  That’s why I have bukkake fantasies,” and she reached under the bed to pull out her toy box.

Sea of Porn

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Sea of Porn

It’s hot.  It’s humid.  It’s February and we’re on vacation – an escape from the winter wonderland of our northern home.  Lying out by the pool, I admire the scenery, much to Lo’s consternation.

There’s a DJ who’s also doubling as the MC for the spring-break crowd.  He has the limbo bar set up and is spinning “Limbo Rock” as the scantily-clad bikini babes and the sculpted bros do their annual mating dance under it.

Every limbo boy and girl
All around the limbo world
Gonna do the limbo rock
All around the limbo clock

“Enjoying the Bimbo Rock?” Lo asks me, her voice dripping with derision.  She glances at me as she asks, but I see her taking in the eye-candy as well.

Jack be limbo, Jack be quick
Jack go unda limbo stick
All around the limbo clock
Hey, let’s do the limbo rock

Limbo lower now
Limbo lower now
How low can you go?

“They’re playing your song,” I say to her.  “They’re calling your name, ‘Hey Lo – how low can you go?”

First you spread your limbo feet
Then you move to limbo beat
Limbo ankolimboneee
Bend back like a limbo tree

Jack be limbo, Jack be quick
Jack go unda limbo stick

“I’ll tell you what,” she says to me, looking over the rim of her dark sunglasses, “I’ll spread my limbo legs and you give me your limbo stick, and I’ll show you just how low Lo can go.”  As she says it, she spreads her legs wide on the reclining chair.

“That’s sounds great,” I reply, “but first, let’s just see who wins, ok?”

“Grrrrrrr,” she says in frustration at my intentional taunt.  “Get me a beer, Daddio,” she commands.

“Sure, do you want it in a glass?”

“Yes, please.  But pour it right!  I don’t want any head.”  She paused.  “I’ll be giving head later. . . in bed.  That’s the only head I want.”

“I can’t wait,” I reply.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she barbs back, “I’ve got my eye on a few likely candidates.”

Later, up in the hotel room, she asks me, “Did you have fun at the pool, dear?”

“Yes – I particularly enjoyed making you jealous.”

“Well, you do a good job of it.”

“It’s not hard at all.”

“It looked pretty hard to me.”

“I’m going to take a shower,” I say.

“Fine,” she says, turning up her nose at me since she apparently took my choice of shower as a snub of her.  But there she’s wrong.  I just like to be clean and fresh for her.

“You know Lo,” I say before going into the bathroom, “I only have eyes for you.”

Lo ignores this and simply looks at her phone.  “Oh, look at that,” she says to me, “A friend of mine just posted that he thinks that his girlfriend looks like Beyoncé.”

“So what?  He’s in love?”

“Aren’t you in love?  You say I remind you of Lucille Ball!”

“Don’t forget Bugs Bunny!”

“Bugs Bunny?!  Really?!  Why not at least Jessica Rabbit?”

“You talk like Jessica Rabbit, but you act like Bugs Bunny.”

“Great.  That’s love.”

I hop in the shower.  When I come out, I find Lo on the bed, naked, her legs spread, one hand holding her phone and one stroking her puss.

“Tell me what you want,” she says to me without even looking at me.

“No, you tell me what you want,” I respond.

This is a familiar game of ours, especially when she’s both mad at me and horny.

“Do you want me?” she asks, seductively.

“Do you want me?” I echo.

“Say it,” she demands.

“No, you,” I say, not willing to give in first.

“Tell me what you want,” she pleads, still stroking herself and pulling at her pussy lips.

“Not till you do first,” I protest.

“I want you to tell me you want me,” she says.

“There you go!  You said it!” I declare, victorious.

“Said what?”

“You said, ‘I want you.’”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“You know, Lo, I love you too much.”

“Why do you say you love me too much?”

“Because I let you off too easily and you get off too easily,” I say as I slowly slide inside her.  She’s dripping wet and very loose.  She moans as I slip in.  Her phone is still in her left hand and she looks at it as I hold her naked body tightly.  Her right hand is still over her clit and she rubs it as I thrust.

“Stay deep.  Just stay deep,” she orders.

I obey.  Her hips slightly gyrate up and down as her fingers quickly pulse on her clit.  She cums within seconds.  Her thighs clench so tightly she squeezes me out unintentionally.

“Sorry,” she manages to whisper as she climaxes.

“You just used me to get off.” I protest.  “You just masturbated with me inside you.  I was completely incidental to your orgasm.”

“No, Daddio, you were instrumental to it.  Now flip me over and do me from behind.”

I obey.  Her phone is still in her hand in front of her now so that I can see what she’s looking at.  It’s a lesbian Tumblr page.

“Do you like them?” she asks me about the women I see on her phone over her shoulder.

“It’s like a sea of porn,” I say.

She immediately shuts off her phone.  “Not for you!” she says.

“Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink,” I say.

“You can have your fill of this all you want.  It’s plenty wet,” she says as her free hand now slaps her ass and then fingers her puss from behind.  Her other hand is still busy between her legs from the front.

Without warning, I cum and cum a lot, deep inside her.  Her pussy clenches on me, hungrily.  But when I’m done, she flips over and complains, “You didn’t wait for me!”

“What?” I ask, perplexed.

“Ladies first,” she reminds me.

“You did cum first.”

“Ladies first and second!”

I go to the bathroom to clean up.  When I return, I find Lo looking at the porn on her phone again, jilling to it.  I begin to object to this, but she holds up a finger to indicate that I should wait till she finishes.  I am polite and wait.  She looks up at me with a smile.  “Cum often, cum a lot.”

“The Lola Down motto.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” she says.

“I thought the saying was ‘Cum early, cum often.’”

“That too.  As well as, ‘Cum one, cum all.’”

“I thought that was the motto of all your blog fans.”

“That’s not their motto, that’s their modus operandi.  I cum and then they all cum.”

“You know, Lo, sometimes our relationship really surprises me.”

“How’s that, Daddio?”

“Sometimes I feel like you’re the guy and I’m the gal.”

“Sounds like fun.  Tell me more.”

“I mean, you get off on those prurient pics, but I. . .”

“Oh no, here it comes!  Spare me your highbrow criticism.”

“I was just going to say, I like a good story, not just T-and-A.”

“Porn stars and women are human too, you know.”

“Really, women are people?  Is that so?”  I asked, facetiously.  “Even you?  I thought you were a goddess.”

“You sound like you’re making an object out of me.”

“Darling, you are first and foremost, a subject – the subject, in fact, of reams and reams of pages I’ve written about you.”

“Now you sound as though you’re fetishizing me.”

“Really?  You think so?” I ask, even more facetiously.  “If you haven’t noticed by now – NEWSFLASH! – you are my fetish.”

“Good grief!  Freud would have a field day with you.”

“Lo, you’re all the porn I need.”

“All I’ve ever wanted to be was a good amateur.”

I lie down next to her.  “You’re the best,” I say as I immediately begin to fall asleep.  She complains that I’m uncomfortable to sleep on.  “Your big barrel-chested torso is impossible to lie on.”

“It’s a big bed in a big room in a big hotel in a big city. . .”

“With a big jerk right in the middle of it!”

As I fall asleep, I can hear and feel her going at it again for that magic number three.

Subspace: Pleasure Spiked With Pain

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Subspace: Pleasure Spiked With Pain

“No!” she said firmly, “I’m not calling him.”

“OK,” I said, not putting up any argument to her decision.

“I mean, he didn’t bother to call on my birthday,” she went on to explain her reasoning, “or to even ask how I’m doing when I called him for his birthday.”  She paused, and I could see now that her lower lip was trembling a bit and she was allowing her mind to feel all that pain again, the way one presses on a bruise just to be reminded of how much it hurts.  “So, fuck him!  Maybe it will give him some much needed silent time to self-reflect about what an asshole he is.”

To be fair, she really had only touched on the tip of this iceberg of harm, neglect, and self-absorption.  All her life he had been a palpably present absentee father.  By that, I mean, he was there in body, but his mind was eons away alone on a raft floating in a sea of vodka.  And in the past few years – the years she had been with me – his very active passivity had ramped up in ways that had caused serious damage to just about everyone around him.  Like Jonah, sleeping in the hold of the ship while his choices caused the ship’s crew to risk life and limb in a tempest, Lo’s father was a whirlwind of destruction cycling around a ghost of the shell of a broken man.

And now it was Father’s Day and unfortunately Hallmark doesn’t make cards that say, “You didn’t try.  You didn’t give a shit.  I tried.  I keep on trying.  You lie and you keep on lying and I’m sick of it and so you can go to hell.  Happy Father’s Day.  Better luck next year.”  So Lo didn’t get a card.  She didn’t go to visit.  She didn’t get a gift.  And she sure as shit wasn’t going to call him.  Yet, that decision put her into her own personal torment with the guilt of imagining her father alone on Father’s Day.

I held her for a while as she cried her eyes out.  Perverse as it may be – I can’t help it – I find her crying and holding me arousing.  She felt my barometer rising and she held me tighter.  Tears were dripping down her cheek onto my shirt.  Her hand slid down under my pants and grasped my shaft, holding it firmly.  We began to kiss and our bodies danced horizontally of their own accord as our minds were locked on each other’s thoughts.

I entered her as she whispered in my ear, “I love you, Daddy.”

“Who do you love?”

“I love you, Daddy.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Daddy.”

She repeated it again and again, each time with a slightly different inflection as her hips rose and fell and pulsated and clenched.

My hand was behind her head, cupping her.  I grabbed a tuft of hair.  She reached up to my hand and tugged on it.  She brought it to her cheek and held it there a moment.  Then she pulled it back and forced it toward her face.  I knew what she wanted.  I gave it to her.  Once.  Again, harder.  A third time, even harder.

Then she said, “Make it hurt, Daddy.  Take away the pain.”

I opened my hand and threw it down with a whap.

“Again” she pleaded.

This time I used my left hand against her right cheek.

“Yes.  Make it hurt.”

I continued with ever greater force and intensity until she was screaming, squirting, shaking, and then quietly breathing in a mind-state beyond consciousness.

I caressed her cheeks softly.  I stroked her hair.  I held her until she muttered, “I love you. . . Daddy” one last time.

G.I. Confidential

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[This story was published today, in honor of Memorial Day and all those who serve, on MyErotica.com.]

G.I. Confidential

 

It started when he wrote an email that said simply, “Love your blog.  Can I please have a password?”  From that brief, shy, initial correspondence grew a virtual pen-pal connection with one of our men in uniform deployed abroad – somewhere in the deserts of the middle east.  He couldn’t say where because it was confidential and who knows who was also reading those emails?  But whoever was reading them was in for a tantalizing treat.

[Some images you get from a Google search of “mysexlifewithlola”]

            Lo wrote back, in her flirtatious, friendly way, and soon found out much more about her G.I. fan.  He was twenty-two, married, one kid.  He had been deployed for two years.  His wife wrote to him frequently and he loved and missed her dearly.  But she sent sexy pics only on occasion, and even then, they were more suggestive than explicit.  He loved her, but he dreamed about Lo.  He read the blog and studied her pics.  He had hotwife fantasies and wished that his own wife would send a nude pic now and then with a note saying, “Please share with your friends.”  But that was beyond the realm of possibility.

Because he was so shy around women, it took him a long time to get up the courage to write to Lo requesting a password to the protected posts.  Little did he know how flattered she would be.  Little did he know how she secretly had a fetish for men in uniform.  She encouraged frequent correspondence, but, due to his rigorous duties and the limited time he got on the internet, he could only write back very brief missives.

Even so, he complimented her, flattered her, and reported on his “down time” – his “Lola Down” time, that is.  Excited to the point of bursting, Lo sent him many explicit photos with little notes like, “Please be sure to share with your bunk mates,” or “Tell all the guys with you that Lola wishes them all to be safe, strong, and hard.”

After gaining his trust, the G.I. sent Lo some pics of himself and his family.  Lo thought it was sweet and that his wife was truly beautiful.  He sent a pic of her on their honeymoon in Hawaii where she wore nothing but a lei. Then he sent her the address where Lo could send him actual letters and such.  She sent him a signed calendar, saying, “I’ve always wanted to be a pin-up girl.”  She told me after the fact.

When she received a warm thank you from him, in which he told her that he posted it by his bunk in the barracks and that all the soldiers were commenting on it, she was thrilled!  When he wrote to her a week later, saying that someone had stolen it, she was even more elated.  She took it upon herself not only to send her pen-pal a replacement copy, but one for every guy in his battalion.

You can imagine her delight when he wrote her the following email:

 

Hi Lola.  All the guys say thank you for the calendars!  They are envious of me because you have been like a hotwife to me.  I ordered your book, Match, Cinder & Spark, (even though it’s really expensive in hardcopy!)  and at night, before lights out, a bunch of us sit around on our bunks and we take turns reading HH’s stories about you.  Last Sunday, we were given some R-n-R and we read the book in the morning.  After reading it, five of us went to the showers.  It’s one long tiled room with about fifty showerheads.  The five of us were naked, under the hot showers, soaping up and very hard and horny from the story we had just read.  I hope my wife never finds out about this, but as we were there, lathered and rinsing off, we all started casually grabbing at our cocks.  Eventually we started jacking off.  Someone grabbed the cock of the guy next to him and soon enough it was a full-fledged circle jerk.  We came on each other and laughed and washed down, smacked one another’s ass, and got out of the shower much refreshed.

Pretty soon Lola was getting emails from other guys in the troop and some of them told her how they had Tumblr accounts with their wives or girlfriends on which each would post something that turned them on or pics of themselves so that it was like virtual sex.  They told her that they were including Lo’s Tumblr pics so that their wives could see what they like.  Lo was thrilled to be the object of the attention of those couples – her virtual three-way.

After a few months of this sort of thing, Lo encouraged her original soldier to tell his wife about mysexlifewithlola.com and loladown.tumblr.com in the hopes that she would become more adventurous in their marriage.  With trepidation he did and, we’re happy to report, she opened up to him like never before, admitting to all her erotic longings, fantasies, and desires.  The grateful soldier thanked Lo and eventually his correspondences with her became less and less frequent.  Hopefully the hot couple is blissfully reunited by this time.

Many thanks to all our men and women in uniform serving our country!

 

Nevertheless, She Persisted

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Nevertheless, She Persisted

 

It had been a long forty-eight hours.  It began with a business meeting out of town on Thursday morning.  It continued with a red-eye flight back Thursday night.  It concluded with a quick shower Friday morning, a change of suit, a coffee, a peck on the cheek hello to Lo as she slept, and then off to the office for back-to-back-to-back meetings all day Friday.  The fact that we were in the middle of a heat-wave didn’t help any of that.

Finally, around seven o’clock I returned home, sweat stains under my arms on my white dress shirt.  I stripped out of my suit, took a cool, refreshing shower, and changed into a t-shirt and pj bottoms.  I told Lo I was too tired even to eat dinner.  She pouted, but she understood.

I got into bed, the windows open with a gentle breeze blowing.  Before long, lying there on my back, hands behind my head, I had dozed off.  It couldn’t have been much later than eight or nine.

Lo, of course, was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed awake.  I heard her in the bed next to me.  I saw the blue glow of her computer screen as she tried to watch something unobtrusively with her earbuds in.

I heard her toss, I heard her turn and her presence weaved in and out of my dreams.  At some point I heard her in the shower.  Then I felt her in the bed next to me again.

A little later I detected her unbuttoning the crotch of my pj bottoms.

“No,” I said firmly from my light sleep.  She continued.  “Lo, no.”  She was undaunted.  “Lo, I said NO!”

Her hand was already in, her fingertips gently caressing my flaccid member.  I said nothing because the soft strokes felt good.

I then felt her tongue on the tip.  I was still soft.  I felt her lips envelope my whole organ.  I felt her tug and pull up and then get her mouthful as she went back down, her head bobbing with the motions.

I could hear her right hand slapping her pussy lips.  Then I could hear her hand plunging in and out of her puss with a splosh as she fisted herself, or so I imagined in my dreamlike state.

Soon she had crawled on top of me and was rubbing her pussy up and down my stiff cock.  I could feel her dripping down on me.

“Please, Daddy,” she begged.

I made no response.  She reached down between her legs and grabbed me and directed my shaft inside her.

My hands involuntarily reached up and squeezed her midriff.  “What are you?” I asked from my torpor.

“Horny,” she said.

“What are you?” I asked again as my hands kneaded her belly.

“Eager and wet.”

“What are you?” I asked a third time.

“I don’t know Daddy.”

“It starts with a ‘p-h,’” I said.

“Phenomenal,” she said.

“Try again.”

“Philosophical.”

“Again.”

“What, Daddy?”

“Say it.  Say it for me.”

“Phat.”

“Yes.”

“Phat, for whom?”

“Phat for you, Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

She came all over my pj bottoms.

She then pulled up and off of me.  I thought that I was now free to return to my regularly scheduled programming – sleep and dreams.

“Get behind me and fuck your phat girl,” she commanded.

“Lo,” I began, as if begging to be relieved of duty.

“Get back there, Daddy.  I need it.”

I got behind her and slid in with ease.

“You’re so big, so wet, so loose,” I said.

“I know Daddy.  I’m so horny.  I’ve been masturbating all night.  I even took a shower to cum again.  I thought that would be it, but I need you.  I need your cock.”

“I can hardly feel you,” I said.

“I can hardly feel you,” she replied.

“Do you want me to put on my sheath?” I asked.

“No, Daddy.  I just want you, even if I can’t feel you.”  As if oblivious of what she just said, she then added, “If I had two cocks in me, then I might feel something.”

“I’m willing to share,” I said.  She came again to that thought.  Her pussy squeezed tight on my cock and pushed me right out, as she usually does in that position.

“Get back in,” she commanded.

I did as told.  I penetrated her as deeply as I could go and she let out a little moan, saying, “That’s it, Daddy.  Stay nice and deep.”

I could feel her Kegel muscles constricting around me.

“I think only a big dog with a good knot would be able to stay in you.”

With that one line, she came again, shooting me out again.

“Fuck me and fuck me fast and furious,” she commanded again.

I entered her and began thrusting in rapid fire.  I could hear and feel the splashing.  My heart rate was no longer a calm sixty beats per minute as it had been only moments ago when I was asleep.  I was up and awake now.

“Slow down!” she called.  “Stop!”

“What?  Why?” I asked, genuinely puzzled.

“I’ll squirt.”

I thrusted again as I said, “Good, I want you to squirt like a fountain.”

“No, Daddy,” she said, but it was too late.  She was squirting uncontrollably.  But she didn’t cum.  She was too wet, too slippery.  She didn’t stop squirting.  She tried to escape by crawling forward, but I didn’t let her.  I followed close behind.  She was no longer in control of her body.

“That’s a girl!” I said.

She reached both hands down between her legs to try to stop the geyser, but to no avail.

There was only one way for her to put an end to this hostile takeover of her body and she knew it and used it.

“Don’t cum, Daddy,” she said.  “Don’t cum!  Whatever you do, just don’t fucking cum.”

I pulled out and stood over her and came with as much force and power as she had all over her back.

“Never fails,” she said from beneath me.  “Now, clean me up and hurry, get some new bedding.”

After changing the sheets and blankets, throwing my pj bottoms and t-shirt in the laundry and lying back down in bed, her head on my chest, she asked, “Did you like that, Daddy?”

“Yes, little girl,” I said.

“What did you like?”

“How horny you were.  Why were you so horny?”

“I missed you.”

“Lo,” I said, skeptical.

“I missed you and I was watching naughty movies.”

“And so you thought it was ok to fuck me even though I was asleep?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.  But you liked it?”

“Yes, ultimately.”

“What did you like?”

“Your persistence.”

“Nevertheless, she persisted,” she said.

“Well-behaved women seldom make history,” I responded.

“In bed,” she quipped.

Sexy Shorts: Thirty Seconds of Pure Magic

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Thirty Seconds of Pure Magic

I walk into the bedroom and find her with her knees up under the sheets.  She looks at me, guilt all over her face.

“What are you up to?”

“Oh, nothing.”

I rip the sheets down and find her Hitachi lying next to her.

“Nothing, eh?”

“Well, nothing anymore.”

I reach over and grab her cell phone.  “Let’s see what you were looking at.”

She tries to grab it back from me, her naked body tackling me as she clamors for me to return it to her; her arms stretching, reaching to get it.  With my left hand I keep her at bay and with my right I rifle through her browsing history.  I find the evidence.

“Nothing, eh?” I ask again as the video plays.

She lies down in the bed again and spreads her legs.  “Come here, Daddio.”

“No,” I say, watching the video.

“Come here and hug me,” she asks in her little girl voice.

I lean over and hug her.  I try to get my hips between her legs.

“No no!” she says.  “I have to go to work.”

“You had enough time for Mr. Hitachi here,” I say, picking up her Magic Wand.

“Yes, but that only took thirty seconds.”

“So, you’re saying I can’t make you climax in under thirty seconds?  I’ve never been more insulted in my life!”

I get up from the bed.

“Pull it out.  Let me see it,” she says, delighting in her teasing of me.

I comply with her wishes.

“Mmmmm,” she says.

“Well, too bad, you don’t have enough time for me – only for your machines.”

“I like thinking that you’ll go through your day hard-up for me.”

“Better watch out, I might find me a fembot and fuck the sprockets out of her.”

Sexy Shorts: Scores

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Scores

 

Lying in bed at night, I’m sitting up reading a book.  She’s on her back, playing with her tits – pushing them up, pulling on the nipples, looking down at them.  She says, “Do you think my breasts are pretty?”

I look over at her.  “Yes.  Very much.”  I go back to reading.

She continues contorting her boobs.  “No, I mean, do you think they’re attractive?”

“Of course I do, Lo,” I say, without losing my spot on the page.

“Do you think people find them attractive?”

“What people?”

“People?”

“Like who?  The people who fuck you?  The people who look at you on the internet?  People you meet in the street?  What people are we talking about?”

“Yeah, all those people.”

“Well, Lo, judging from the number of men and women who write to you every day and send in dick picks and photos of themselves jackin’ and jillin’ to your lovely images, I think the answer has to be ‘Yes.’  Anymore questions?”

I looked back down at her – she was jillin’ it to the thought of all those people cumming to her.  Not satisfied with the thought, she rolled over on her tum, pulled out her phone, and began flipping through the scores of photos sent to her by her fans until she hit on one that did the trick.  She came.

“Daddy?”

“Yes Lo?”

“Don’t you want to get behind me while I do this?”

“Didn’t you already do it?”

“Don’t you want to get behind me while I do this again?”

I put down my book, got up and out of my pj bottoms, and mounted her round ass as she, on her hands and knees, looked through the fan photos again.  I thought to myself, “This could go on all night.”

Her tits were hanging down, rocking forward and back with each thrust.  She held herself up with her left hand as she held her right hand, palm open just below her nipples so that they’d graze against her palm as they went back and forth.  She liked feeling the fullness of her breasts as they hung there.  “Do you think they are saggy?” she asked me over her shoulder as she scrolled through some more pics.

“What?” I asked.

“My tits – do you think they’re sagging?”

“No, Lo.  You’re on all fours, like a bitch in heat, and gravity will do its thing, you know.”

She flipped through the photos on her phone and she said, “Look, this couple here – she has very big, very saggy tits.”

Glancing over her shoulder, I could just make out what it was I saw.  Luckily, I still had my reading glasses on.  “They’re in their forties or fifties Lo.  You’re in your twenties.”

I kept going at her as her fingers kept working their magic between her legs.  “Do you think they’re attractive?” she asked.

“Who?  The couple?”

“No, her tits?”

“Yes, Lo, they’re attractive,” I said.

“Saggy tits can be attractive, right?”

 

I gave up on answering and focused on hitting hard at the target.  Apparently that took Lo’s mind off of her tits for a while because she found a photo that she stared at intently and she began convulsing on my cock, cumming hard.

When she was done, she pulled off of me and rolled on her back, phone still in hand, looking at the photos submitted by fans to her.  I asked her, “Lo, what do they all do for you?”

“It’s not what they do for me that turns me on, it’s what I do for them.”

 

[All photos were submitted to loladown.tumblr.com]

Slut Lust

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Slut Lust

 

It was Thursday and Lo was late getting home.  She hadn’t texted or called or anything to say that she’d be late.  I had texted her around 7:00 to find out where she was and I got no response.  That was unusual, so I tried calling.  No answer.

Finally, around 8:00 she sauntered in the door.  Her hair was done and I saw right away that her nails were done.  “Where the hell were you?” I asked, not so nicely.

“I’m sorry, Daddio,” she said in her sweet little-girl voice, as she reached out to caress my chest.  “I went to get a haircut and then for a mani-pedi.”

“You could have called, texted, carrier pigeon, you know.”

“I’m really sorry.  It wasn’t a scheduled appointment.  I just walked in.  I didn’t know if they’d have time for me, so I didn’t tell you cause I didn’t know myself until I was already in the chair.  My phone was in my purse on the coatrack.”

“What’s the occasion?” I asked, suspicious.

“I’ll be right back.  I just want to change,” she said as she dashed off to the bedroom.

When she came back into the living room, she was just wearing her little black negligee.  She stretched out on the couch across from me and put her legs up with her toes close to my side.  “Do you like, Daddy?”

I looked down at them and they looked like ten pieces of shiny, pink candy.  “Yes,” I said, still sounding grumpy.

 

“Pet them,” she said, wiggling the little toes for attention.

I pet them and she cooed saying, “That’s right.”

“So tell me, what’s all this about?” I asked again.

She bent her legs at the knees in order to spread her legs a bit for me, displaying her lack of panties.  She stroked her pussy lips.  “Did you miss me?”

“Yes.”

“Were you worried?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me?” she asked, running her tongue over her teeth and her lovely, manicured fingers deep between her pussy lips.

“Lo, answer the question.”

“What’s the question?”

“Why are you getting yourself all done up?”

“Well, if you must know, I have a date tomorrow night.”

“A date?  With whom?”

“Brian.”

“What?  I thought you said he was off limits – except in your imagination – because he’s a business associate?”

“Well, it’s not a date date.  It’s a business date, of sorts.”

“What does that mean?”

She was still stoking her pussy and spreading her legs wider now.  “Don’t stop playing with my toes,” she said.

I made sure to pay attention to her toes with my hand.

“We are working on a project together and he asked if I would like to talk about it over drinks tomorrow night.”

“Is that so?”

“MmmmHmmmm,” she moaned, followed by, “Are you jealous?”

“Should I be jealous?”

“MmmmHmmmm,” she moaned again and then she came.  It was a surprise orgasm.  It caught us both by surprise.  It just gripped her and suddenly her toes curled up, her left hand grabbed a pillow and clutched it with all her might and her right hand continued stroking her pussy.  After the convulsion had loosened just a bit, she managed to whisper, “Get a. . .” and she pointed.  I knew what she needed and I dashed to the linen closet, grabbed a plush terrycloth towel, and dashed back.  She stuffed it between her legs and released, squirting into it, letting her breath go, her body suddenly shaking and trembling with the force of her hysterical paroxysm.

When she calmed down, she said, “Put this in the laundry and then fuck me in the bedroom.”

I followed her instructions and when I entered the bedroom she was bent over the bed, her hands pulling her butt cheeks apart, prominently displaying her still dripping pussy.  “Slide right in, Daddy.”

I did so.

“How’s it feel?” she asked.

“Like fucking in a hot tub,” I said.  “You’re gushing.”

“Am I tight?”

“Not at all.  I can hardly feel you.”

“Do you think Brian will think I’m a slut?”

“Do you plan on fucking him?”

“You never know where drinks on a Friday night will lead.”

“Whether he thinks you’re a slut or not, I know the truth.”

“Tell me.  What is the truth?”

“You’re a horny, slutty, cock-hungry, strumpet!”

“Go on,” she said.  She was just warming up.

“A cheating little bitch.”

“Yeah.”

“A fucking whore who. . .” I didn’t get to finish because she was screaming louder than I was talking at this point.  She collapsed into the covers and was dripping down to her knees.  I could hear my cock splashing about inside her as I continued to thrust.

“Stop.” she said.

“What?”

“Stop!”

“But I’m. . .”

“I know.  You’re so close.  I want you to stop.  Pull out.  Don’t cum.”  She crawled away from me on the bed, leaving me hard-up, dripping wet with her cum.

She turned around and cleaned me off with her mouth and looked up at me.  “I want you to be very hard up when I get home tomorrow night.”

“I will be, even if you finish me off now,” I said as my hands reached down to weave my fingers in her thick hair and push her head back down on my dipstick.

“I want you to be desperate for me,” she said, resisting any more pleasure for me.

“Fine,” I said, angrily.

The next morning, Lo was up before I was, which is something very unusual.  She was already stroking it to Brian’s photos that she had found by searching him out on Facebook.  Just as I was stirring, her left hand grabbed and held my right wrist tightly as she again convulsed, pressing her knees together, clasping on her fingers between her legs, dropping her phone, biting down hard.  And then it was over.

“Morning Daddio,” she said pleased as peach.

“I want to fuck you,” I said.

“Nope.  Not till tonight,” she said and she got up and went into the master bathroom, sat on the pot with the door open and looked at me as she squirted into the bowl and then peed.  She knows that this is a real turn-on for me and she did it deliberately to arouse me.

She got up, bent over and flushed, went to the sink and began brushing her teeth, all the time popping her little ass out at me and looking over her shoulder to make sure I was watching her.

“Are you coming home before your date tonight?”

“Of course I am,” she said.

“So I’ll see you around five?”

“Yeah.”

Soon she was out the door going to work.  She texted me and asked, “Are you still hard-up for me?”

I texted back three eggplant emojis.

Later that day, Lo came home and, after a perfunctory little peck on the cheek, she removed all her clothes and hopped into the steamy hot shower.  I went to peek in and I was greeted by her yelling, “Get out!” as I saw her wearing her shower cap – something she hates to be seen wearing.

When she was out, she spent a good long time naked in front of the mirror doing her makeup.  Finally, she came into the bedroom where I was watching her and she said, “This sucks.”

“What?”

“Look,” she said, showing me the little dangling string between her legs.

“Today?!”

“Yes.  Can you believe it?  I got it hard and heavy.  I’m so fucking pissed.”

“Well, you weren’t planning on fucking him anyhow, were you?”

“When I go on a date I like to know that all options are open.”

“And all holes.”

“You’re so vulgar.”

“But right.”

“Yeah, so?”

She slid on a sexy little thong, put on her bra, and slid into her sexiest dress.

“Remember,” she said, as she put on her heels, “no cumming for you!  Not until tonight.”

“Have fun,” I said as she dashed out the door, already late for her six o’clock appointment.  “Remember,” I added, “not to mix business with pleasure.”

She turned around and, with a laugh, she said, “Darling, pleasure is my business,” as she smoothed out her dress over her curvy ass.

She left and with those parting words I thought about what a trollop she is.

Left to my own devices, or rather, my own vices, I poured myself a generous helping of scotch and ensconced myself on the couch with my computer to write.  Every so often, when I wistfully thought of my little lush Lo, I would pull up her photos to look at – and only through a manly act of willpower, prevent myself from pleasuring myself to them.

To my surprise, nine o’clock came and went.  Then ten.  Then eleven!  I didn’t dare text her because of some sadistic pleasure I took in the not knowing.  But where the hell was she?!

Finally, at eleven-thirty-five, I saw the lights of a car pull into the driveway.  It was Lo.  She walked in the door and looked at me on the couch.  “Hey Daddio,” she said as she sauntered up to me, leaned over and kissed me.  She then turned to walk toward the bedroom and as she did so, she slowly slid her dress up over her ass so that I could see her bare bottom.

“Hey,” I called after her, “you were wearing panties when you left!”  I got up and followed her to the bedroom where I managed to see her pull the dress up and over her head.  She undid the clasp on her bra and took it off just before turning out the light and hopping into bed.

“How was your night, Daddio?” she asked, purposely being coy about her night.

“Fine,” I said.

She reached down and pulled out my hard cock.  “Did you miss me?”

“What do you think?”

“I want to hear it.  Did you miss me?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“A lot.  Why are you so late and why don’t you have your thong on?”

She stroked my cock.  “Were you good or bad?”

“I think I should be asking you that.”

“I asked you first.”

“I was good.”

“Did you jack it?”

“No.”

“Did you look at porn?”

“Only yours.”

“Did you cum?”

“I told you, I didn’t jack it.”

“Yes, but you could cum just by looking at my porn.”

“That’s true,” I said upon reflection, “but I didn’t.”

“Good.”

“Tell me about your night.”

“Are you sure you want to hear?”

“Yes,” I said, bracing myself for whatever she might reveal.

“Well, we met over at the restaurant.  He was a perfect gentleman, even though it must have been obvious that I was a slut in lust.”

“Really?  And how do you define lust?”

“Oh, Daddio, I’m disappointed.  A writer like yourself should know that lust and slut are the same word, just slightly rearranged.”

“That’s true,” I said, pondering the similarities.

“Lusting is the desire to have someone’s body and to give them yours in return.  Sluts don’t limit themselves to just one.”

“And love?”

“Oh, aren’t you the romantic?  Love is wanting not just the other person’s body for one night; it’s wanting them totally and completely forever.”

“And you’re a slut in lust?”

“Yes.  And it turns out Brian lusts for a slut. . . just like me.”

“Really?”

“Was there ever any doubt?”

“Go on.”

She tugged on my hard shaft and reached down below, cupping my balls.  “Daddy, your junk is huge!”

“It’s been a while, Lo,” I said flatly.

“Don’t worry, ole man, you’ll get yours.”

“Can you continue your story?” I said, rather frustrated by the interruption.

“He was a perfect gentleman at dinner and we talked mostly about work stuff, but he did ask me some questions about my personal life.”

“Such as?”

“If I was dating anyone, who, how long – things like that.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“I told him the truth, of course.”

“There are many versions of ‘the truth.’  Which one did you tell him?”

“I told him that I’ve been dating you and that we have an understanding.  I let him know that I’m free to play.”

“And?”

“And he invited me back to see his place.”

“Really?”

“Are you jealous now?”

“Did you go to his house?”

“Of course!  Don’t be silly.”

“And?”

“He has a beautiful place overlooking the skyline of the city.  He offered me a drink and I accepted.  We sat on the couch and talked for a while, but then. . .”

“Then what?”

“Oh, it’s too embarrassing.”

“What?”

“Well, a good slut should never wear a thong when she has a heavy flow.  At least not without a spare!”

“Uh oh!”

“Yeah.  I had to get up and throw out my panties in his bathroom garbage.”

“So, you left your calling card!”

She hit my chest playfully.  “Don’t be so rude!  I’m a lady.”

“A slutty lady.”

“Nevertheless.  So, I went back out, drank the last of my drink and thanked him for a wonderful evening.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“And now?”

“Now I want you, Daddy.”

“Good, cause I want you too!  Spread your legs.”

“Uh-uh,” she said.

“What?”

“It’s too heavy for that.”

I was already between her legs and her hand had a firm grip on my member.  She was pushing it up and down, causing the tip to rub against her clit as she moaned.  I could feel how erect she was.

“But. . .” I protested.

“Mmmmmm,” she hummed, “I like this.  Can I just give you a hand-job?”

“Sure,” I said, excited.  I was ready and willing to take anything.

She reached over to the nightstand, put some moisturizing lotion in her palm and grabbed me again, slathering up my hard rod.

“You just want me to get your rocks off like some animal.”

“Yeah,” I said.  “What kind of animal?”

“Like a big, horny dog.”

“Tell me about it.”

She was rubbing my slippery cock up and down her pussy and it felt at least as good for me as it did for her.  She didn’t go on talking, so I took the lead.

“What if you lived alone.  What if, after a hot and steamy date with a big, built, handsome guy like Brian, you came home all horny.  You came into an empty apartment.  Empty, except your faithful companion, your dog who has been waiting loyally for you to return.”

“A big dog, Daddy?”

“Yes.  A Doberman.  He gets all happy and excited when you walk in and his little tail starts wagging, but you’re so horny that you just need to jump into bed and start masturbating.”

“You’re bad, Daddy.”

“You get naked and he hops up on the bed next to you.  He smells that you’re in heat and he gets between your legs.”

“Does he lick me?”

“Yes, and he’s a big dog and you never had him fixed, so his balls are huge and his cock grows at the slightest hint of your scent.  You can see his giant erection as you stroke your pussy.  You feel bad for him cause he has no bitch to get him off.  He has to go so long without any sexual relief.  You don’t want him to accost your guests.  You want him to be a good dog.  You don’t want him to hump your leg if Brian comes over, so you try to take care of him.  You reach down between his haunches and you grab his cock with your hand.”

“Like this, Daddy?” she asked as she rubbed me up and down.

“Yes,” I said, moaning because her grip and slip felt so good.  “You feel how big and hard it is and it reminds you of Brian.  You just like having eager dick near you, no matter the type.  You like that he’s big and hard-up.  You know you have the power to make him feel better.  You stroke him up and down with your right hand as your left is stroking yourself.  He’s eager to get between your legs, like he has before, but you don’t let him this time.  You do all the work with your gentle, but firm hand.  He begins to thrust, sliding in and out between your slippery fingers and thumb.  You know he’s close.  You begin to cum yourself and just as you do, he ejaculates all over you!”

As I said it, she was cumming.  I was cumming.  We were cumming and cumming hard!  After I was done, she leaned forward, took my cock in her mouth, and licked it clean.  I thought about how that would make the perfect end to my little bedtime story.

I got up out of bed and grabbed a towel from the bathroom and returned to clean up my mess from her chest and belly.

“Hey,” she called out, “what are you doing?!  It’s not a spill in isle eight!”

“Look, little girl,” I said, “your hound wouldn’t be able to do this for you.  Accept the kind gesture with grace.”

“My hound would have licked me clean,” she said.

“Touché!”

Sin-esthesia

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Sin-esthesia

 

“Daddy, fuck me,” she said.  I had been in bed for at least an hour before she joined me.  I had read, trying to stay awake until she got home, but reading a book in a reclining position while sipping a whiskey at midnight on a Friday is simply not the best way to stay awake.  I had fallen asleep sometime around 12:30.  Lo was out with her friends.  I hadn’t heard her come home or enter the bedroom.  I hadn’t heard her remove her clothes, get ready for bed, or slip under the covers.  All I heard was her whisper into my ear, “Daddy, fuck me.”

Some people say hello when they get home.  Some people say good night when they get into bed.  Some people don’t wake their partners when their partners are asleep and they come home in the a.m.  But Lo says, “Daddy, fuck me.”

I don’t recall what inarticulate grunt of a response I made, but Lo was dismayed at the rebuff.  Lo, being the extrovert that she is, gets energized from time out with friends.  I, on the other hand, being an introvert, declined the invitation to go out with others.

Being fully aroused by her night out on the town, she was not nearly ready for sleep.  She pulled out her phone and then I heard her talking to me again.

“Hunter wrote to me.  He has a new girl.  He sent me pictures.  Do you want to see, Daddy?”

I didn’t respond.  I heard her pull out her Hitachi.  I heard the familiar buzz of its vibration.

“Mmmmmm,” she moaned, “she’s very hot.  Oh, and he sent a few pics of him too.  He’s grabbing his long cock.  He says his new friend is eager to be with a woman and guess what Hunter is suggesting?  That’s right, he wants me to join.  What do you think of that?  Would you be upset if I had a threesome with them?  Would you feel left out if I went over there and got fucked by the two of them and you were all alone?”

I heard her put down the Magic Wand and tap out something.  I rolled over.

“What are you telling him?” I asked.

“Oh, now you’re awake?”

“Thanks to you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What are you telling him?”

“I’m suggesting some times that we could meet.  I’m also asking if he would build a milking table for us so that she and I could be under it sucking and tugging on his long cock.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

“Let me see,” I said, about the new girlfriend.

“No.”

“Let me see.”

“If you want to see, get behind me and fuck me.  You can look over my shoulder. . . if you’re good.”

I grabbed my reading glasses from the nightstand and got up and slid right into Lo’s wet pussy.

“That’s it, Daddio.  Get in there deep,” said Lo as she held up the phone and displayed the pics of Hunter’s new affair.

“You want her?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“You want to. . .”  I didn’t even have time to finish my second question before Lo came with gusto.

“Fuck, I was horny!” she said.  She fell forward into the pillow and slipped her pussy off of my shaft.

“You just used me,” I complained.

“So?”

“My cock was nothing more than a dildo or your Hitachi.  A two minute orgasm.  Isn’t that right?”

“Yep.  But you were better than the dildo or Hitachi.”

“Only because with me, you had your hands free to look at Hunter’s pornographic pictures.”

“Right again.”

“And now that you woke me from a deep sleep, you’re going to leave me high and dry.”

“More like hard-up and wet, but yeah.  I’m so tired all of the sudden.”  She was already almost asleep.

“Unbelievable.”

“Jack it.”

“No.”

“Why not?  You can cum on me.”

“No.”

“Please.  I love it when you jack it.”

“You love it when anyone jacks it.”

“And when you cum on me.”

“You love it when anyone cums on you.”

“Hunter jacked it and came on me.”

“I know that.”

“Fine, if you don’t want to.”

“You’re really going to sleep.”

“I can’t help it.  But I give you full permission to fuck me while I’m sleeping.”

“Oh, blanket consent, huh?”

She was asleep now.  I tried to go back to sleep, but couldn’t.  Her naked body next to me was too tempting.  I slowly got behind her, put my warm body down on hers, and wiggled my way inside her still wet cunt.  She didn’t move.  She didn’t wake.  I propped myself up on my elbows on the pillow and slowly slid back and forth inside her.  I turned on her phone and saw the email from Hunter.  He wrote to her, “Still turning heads and dropping pants, darlin’?”

She wrote back, “I’m still dropping my pants and giving head.”

Their banter went back-and-forth.  I thought of what a little slut my girl was and as I did, I came deep inside her.  I collapsed on the bed next to her and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, just prior to waking, I found my hands gliding gently over her naked skin, feeling the roundness of her bum and the curves of her breasts.  As they hovered over the surface of her body, they transmitted to my dreaming mind an image, like a blind man reading braille.

This had the dual effect of making my cock stiff and waking Lo from her slumbers.  She looked at me and I looked at her and said, “I love seeing you with my hands, feeling you with my eyes, caressing you with my tongue, evoking you through olfaction.  I love to know you through our bodies.  I love to get physical with you in my imagination.”

She said, “Well, how about you fuck me with your cock?”

“That works too!” I said as I got behind her and gave her what she wanted.  As I slid in, she said that my caresses during the night gave her wild sex dreams.  “I’m so wet!” she said.  “All night I’ve been dreaming of people using me, fucking me, fucking every one of my holes.  You, Hunter, his girlfriend, strangers.”

“Well, one of those happened,” I said.

“What?”

“You said I could fuck you even if you fell asleep.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I did.”

“You did?” she asked, and as the thought of it filled her mind, she came, gushing all over me.