Meet Cailah

Cailah

We want to introduce you all to our friend Cailah, an OF creator, MILF, and avid reader of literotica!

Cailah reading Match, Cinder & Spark, Vol. V

There’s been a lot of talk lately about Twitter’s OnlyFans site. First Twitter said they were going to ban sexually explicit material, but then when they realized that they would go the way of Tumblr.  If you recall, as many of us in the kink community do with great disdain, Tumblr sold for $1.1 billion to Yahoo in 2013. Yahoo wanted Tumblr to be allowed as an app on iPhones and so banned any sexually explicit content.  Result: Tumblr sold in 2017 for only $3 million to WordPress! Just goes to show, don’t take away the guys and gals who give you free content and make you rich.

After huge outcry, mainly because, in the wake of this global pandemic that has put so many people, not only sex-workers, out of business, OF was a great way to stay safe and earn a living. And a lot of moms, like Cailah, took advantage of that market.

Sexy Cailah telling you what she wants to do

Luckily, Twitter realized its stupidity and revoked its ban on sexual content. But not before a number of content creators had jumped ship to find other, less prudish, outlets for their sexual energy, creativity, and entrepreneurial spirit.

Cailah topless

How will this all shake out? My take is, the more outlets for people to earn a living, the better. But it does become challenging to find the main spot for creative spirits.

Cailah looks interested

You can now find Cailah at:

https://fansly.com/BeautifulDisaster69/posts

Professional Cailah Photo

 

Cailah Short Shorts

Cailah likes to ride

The Beautiful End

A Time to Love

Lola’s older sister, Roberta Go

“Gazing at the written world, seeing the elegant self-restraint that guards an inner decomposition, a biological decay until the last moment from the prying eyes of the world; that bilious, sensually disadvantaged ugliness that is able to kindle its smoldering fire into a pure flame and to even usurp the throne in the kingdom of beauty.”

Death in Venice, Thomas Mann

 

“Really?” asked Lo as I mixed the gin in with the tonic and sliced up a sliver of lime.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s not even noon.”

“What is time in a global pandemic anyway?”

We were two weeks into lockdown.  We were stranded in paradise.  Far away from our everyday hustle and bustle, cold weather, friends and family, we followed the dire warnings about travel a week into our winter vacation to the beachside resort town.  The sun was shining, the sea breeze gently moderating the temperature, the inviting golden sand beckoning us to walk through it barefoot.  But all the amenities of this place were off-limits.  One-by-one each pleasurable pastime was shut down, cordoned off, closed – first the bars and restaurants, then the beach itself, and finally the boardwalk.  We were allowed to walk on the sidewalks, but that was it.  There was nowhere to go anyhow.  We could take our lives in our hands and go to the supermarket to get necessities (if we could find them on the bare shelves), but we didn’t want to do that and we made as infrequent visits there as possible.

News of sickness, disease, and death were filtering into every media channel.  It seemed that even if we didn’t watch the news, we still couldn’t escape it – it was in the air.  The stock market was tumbling down off a cliff, unemployment was spiking, and anxiety was everywhere.  We couldn’t hug our neighbors for comfort, for they may be the vicious vector conveying the virus within their sincere attempt at reassurance.

Lola and I were utterly alone on the 25th floor of a resort hotel overlooking the vacant beaches and streets with nothing but the brilliant yellow, blue, and wisps of white for company.  On the horizon we could make out three giant cruise ships forbidden from docking for fear of their deadly cargo.  We were informed that the virus was rampant and people dropping with asphyxiation on the decks, desperately looking to the shore for some sort of assistance, in vain.

Death surrounded us.  So why not have a gin-and-tonic after breakfast?  I had plunged into nihilism.

Yes, I still had Lola as my companion, but there was little for me to write about regarding “my sexlife with Lola.”  Her trysts, flirtations, and dogging down by the pool area were prohibited by the pandemic.  Yes, she still masturbated three, four, five times a day, but I’ve written about that in such detail and with such frequency that there is hardly anything new I could bring to the topic.  Our lives beat on with the same monotony as the repetitive waves upon the shore.

Until one day our desperation to escape the gloom of death and destruction was relieved.  We found solace in the strangest of places.  While preparing for her Friday morning fap session, Lo was doing her usual foreplay routine which includes checking her elicit email account.  In it, she discovered a missive from her sister Robie, whom she hadn’t seen for a dozen years or more.  Even with me, she had only mentioned her in passing as her “estranged sibling.”  All I knew about her was that she was older and residing abroad.  How on earth did she find Lo’s secret email account?

After getting the email, Lo called me into the bedroom and explained some of the backstory.

“She’s older and when we were kids we slept in the same bed.  It became. . . interesting. . . when she grew boobs.  Long story short, we got caught, she got kicked out of the house and sent to boarding school and then to Europe.  We were separated for a long time.”

“Why did she suddenly write to you now?” I asked.

“I’m getting there,” said Lo, still naked under the sheets, slowly stroking between her legs as she spoke, “During COVID lockdown she needed something to help her get off.  She was scouring the internet to find the really dirty stuff.  She came across (and to) our blog and, because I don’t show my face, was fapping to it regularly, not knowing it was me – her sister – that was making her horny, until one day she noticed something that gave me away.  She reached out and sent this photo of her with the ebook of Match, Cinder & Spark.”

Robie with our ebook

She showed me the photo.  I was in a state of shock; first by the events that led to this interaction and then by the family resemblance I saw between Lo and Robie.

“She’s beautiful,” I uttered unconsciously.

Lo took offense.  Always jealous.

“I mean, she looks so much like you.  It’s a compliment.”

Apparently Lo, being the younger sister, always took a backseat to Robie.  My comment brought back all those jealousy issues.

Since that first email exchange as adults, the two have reconnected on a number of levels, not least of which is that they frequently get off to each other long-distance.

I suppose the ever-present, yet occasionally more pressing, specter of death can reunite as well as rend.

Robie showing that she has been using Lo to get off

Brass in Pocket

Continued from ICI – Home Insemination with a Known Donor

Lola uses her arms

 

“What do you think you’re going to do with this Ted?” I asked Lo as we drove home from Cam and Gina’s.

“I like to imagine what he’s going to do with me,” she responded, looking out the window into the middle distance as the storefronts and pedestrians streamed by on the illuminated street.

“What does that mean?  You heard them, he’s involved with a guy.”

“Meh,” she sounded, dismissively.

“Meh?  What if you get in the room with him and he can’t get it up?”

“He won’t agree to it if he thought that would happen.”

“What if he doesn’t agree to it?”

“You miss every pitch you don’t swing at.”

“Clever, but in this instance, he’s holding the bat.”

“I sure hope he is!”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I’ve been called worse. . . and I like it.”

“This is Cam and Gina’s attempt at getting pregnant, not your opportunity to turn a trick.”

“When a door closes, a window opens.”

“Will you stop with the platitudes.  They’re not even appropriate.”

“Are you jealous, Daddy?” she asked, suddenly realizing that she might be turning me on with her antics.

“No, I’m confused.”

“There’s nothing to be confused about, Daddy.  It’s all very straightforward.”

“Explain.”

“I love to see men jacking off.  You know that.  You don’t do it for me nearly enough.”

“I hardly have the opportunity; you’re on me before I can even stroke it.”

“Nevertheless.  Here is a perfect chance to see a man do it, live, in person.  Not just photos.”

“But it’s a complicated situation.”

We arrived home.  When we were in the bedroom, we continued the conversation.

“I am troubled by your enthusiasm for this ‘helping hand’ business.”

“It’s not a business. . . yet, but who knows.  Maybe I could become a fertility assistant – like a midwife, but instead of aiding in the birth of a baby, I aid in the ejaculatory process.”

“Lo, be serious for a moment.”

“I was,” she said, deadpan.

“Sometimes I think you believe yourself to be God’s gift to men.”

“And on the eighth day, God said, ‘Let there be Lola.’  Eve can be a helpmate.  I’ll be the playmate.”

“After a day of rest, God had a wet dream and Lo and behold!”

“Lo and behold.  I like that.  I’m Lo, you’re Behold.”

I took out my cock and grabbed it for her.

“To have and to hold, ʼtil death do you part,” she said.

“So, if I were Ted, what would you do?”

“The possibilities are endless.  Should I give him my ass, Daddy?”

“You can’t, remember?  The specimen has to be immaculate.”

“I’m insulted!!!  Are you saying my ass isn’t immaculate?”

“No, I was just saying. . .”

“Immaculate conception, right.  I’m just teasing you.  Should I lick him?”

“Off limits.”

“Jerk him off?”

“No lubricants allowed.”

“I could use my feet.”

“That’s ok.”
She broke into song:

 

Gonna use my arms,

Gonna use my legs,

Gonna use my style,

Gonna use my sidestep,

Gonna use my fingers,

Gonna use my, my, my imagination.

 

With each lyric, she pantomimed the part.  She used her arms to boost up her breasts; she got on her back to spread her legs; she licked her lips slowly, seductively, she put her fingers down her panties, and then, she squirted just as I came.

“I see I got your attention.”

“Yes, you did.  Now, if you can just get Ted to do that.”

“Oh, I will, don’t you worry.”

Lola uses her legs

Interview with “Anal Ambassador” Siswet

 

Siswet

Siswet turned out to be incredibly friendly, down-to-earth, and, well, open.  Obviously she’s open.

Lola asked her all sorts of questions, some with unexpected answers.

Siswet is known for her extreme anal insertions.  She is legendary.  She has a huge following and is also cute as a button.  Her “button” is also particularly cute as well.  It’s hard to believe that such enormous dildos can fit into that tiny, tight, button.  Lo asked about that.

Siswet and friend

L –   Does it hurt?  I mean, you definitely are on the “extreme” end of anal​ insertions.  Does doing what you do hurt? or do you like it?

​S – Well, sometimes it does hurt a little.  It depends on the size, but as long as it’s not too much pain it’s nice. A bit of pain is okay. But mostly it doesn’t hurt.

L –     How did you discover this unique talent of yours?  At what age were you when you started exploring anal insertions?

​S – I was 18 when I started anal exploring. Of course I started with only a finger and a really small buttplug. I think I started with bigger toys when I was 20 or something.

If you have watched any of Siswet’s videos, you know that her most popular ones are the ones where her dogs just wander onto the scene as she’s filming her cam show.  They seem curious and loving as Siswet goes about trying to squirt and insert.

Siswet and one of her dogs

L –     How many pets do you have?  They often appear in your videos.  Is anyone else around when you make the videos?

​S – I have two small dogs, Pomeranians, and I have an Amazon parrot. I love them. Usually I’m alone when I make videos. Other people aren’t around, just the dogs.

There are a lot of rumors out there about Siswet’s relationship status.  As you all know, Lola loves to reserve anal sex for other men, knowing that that is the one thing that makes me jealous.  She loves to make me jealous and hold out on me.  We were wondering what Siswet’s relationships would be like.  Would she only want anal sex – so called A.O.L. (anal only lifestyle) – or would vaginal sex be more novel and intimate for her.

L –   Current relationship status?

​S – I don’t have a relationship.

L –     Do you have anal sex when with a partner?  Do you prefer anal sex?

​S – I do have anal sex when I’m with a partner, but I prefer vaginal sex. I like both though.

We also wondered, given the size of those dildos, could her partner feel anything or she feel anything of her partner if they did have anal sex.  Notably, there are very few videos showing Siswet having anal sex with a partner.

Multiple Views

L –    When you do have anal sex, can you feel the guy’s penis at all?

​S – Yes I do. My ass is flexible from the inside.  When I don’t do the big anal toys, my ass gets back to normal.

L –     I read somewhere that the guys you have dated in the past became jealous of your work. Is that so? How do you manage relationships?

​S – Relationships don’t work for me because of my work, indeed. I don’t want a relationship.

L –     How do you manage to stay so perfectly clean?

​S – Well, when I know I’m gonna do anal that day I clean myself with a klysma or enema in the morning when I wake up and just before my anal show as well.

L –    Do you maintain control over your sphincter after such extreme stretching of it? How?  Any special exercises?

​S – After I’m done with anal toys, I rest my ass for the next day. I also do anal exercises with buttplugs a lot.

L – Have you ever had any unfortunate accidents due to the extreme anal stretching you have undergone?

​S – No, never.

L – Thoughts on ass-to-mouth or ass-to-vagina?

​S – Ass-to-mouth is no problem for me. I do that sometimes. But ass-to-vagina I never do because that can cause infections and I’m sensitive to bladder infections.

L – What’s the most painful thing you’ve done for your fans?

S – I think taking the Goliath totally up my ass. (See photo for Goliath.)

Goliath

L –  In the videos you make with other people, they are almost always with women. Do you prefer women?

Goliath

​S – That’s true, I usually make videos with other women. I don’t prefer women though, I prefer men.

 

 

L –  Do you feel it to be a personal challenge to see how big of an insertion you can take?

 

​S – Yes, it does feel like a personal challenge.  It always has felt like a challenge to see how big a toy I could take.

L –   Do anal insertions make you squirt, pee, or both?

​S – Anal insertions make me squirt, but not always.  I don’t pee on video or cam.

L –   Favorite thing to put up your ass?

​S – I think my favourite toy for my ass is Stan from Bad Dragon. (See image.)

Siswet and Stan

L –  A lot of anal gape stars will focus on the prolapse after, but you usually don’t.  Any special reason?

​S – I actually don’t know why. Not all people like it, I suppose. I do it sometimes in videos.

L –   Did you ever lose anything up your asshole?

​S – Yes! – my phone. I really was scared I couldn’t get it out anymore. Luckily someone else got it out for me by sticking his arm deep inside to be able to get it out. All I could think was, what if someone tries to call me???

Siswet on a ride

Lo and I both speculated on how a boyfriend or husband would feel about Siswet’s main source of income.  Would he be encouraging and supportive or insecure and jealous.  Well, she answered that.  But we also wondered what it would be like for someone completely ignorant of her internet fame to date her and, upon getting back to her place, finding out what she can do with her ass – either with a dildo or with him or with him and her arm!  Her answer really surprised us.  Anyone else familiar with “a darkroom”?

L –  Have you ever gone out on a date with a guy who didn’t know about your fame?

​S – I actually haven’t.  Also, I don’t date very often.

L –  Did you ever surprise a lover with your incredible talent? If so, what happened?

​S – Yes I have, once in a while I go to a darkroom for fun. Then I let some people fuck my ass as a surprise 🙂 I love that a lot.

Cute Siswet

Can you imagine the surprise that it would be to enter Siswet’s ass in the dark of a club’s sex room?

L –  Do you read mysexlifewithlola.com or the Match, Cinder & Spark books to get off?

​S – I actually love the website a lot! Just today I got off to the story “Tuesday’s Tale.” The books of Match, Cinder & Spark are amazing as well! There is also a e-version available. That’s super easy!

I guess Siswet liked the “Mount Bliss” stories, perhaps because Lily is A.O.L. (Anal Only Lifestyle).

L –   Biggest turn-on?

S – One of my biggest turn-ons is that ​I love licking a man’s ass and play with it with my fingers when having sex.  Also, my biggest turn on is having sex in public!

Support Siswet and enjoy her responsibly by going to her OnlyFans site and her chatroom: http://Onlyfans.com/siswet19

http://SiswetLive.com/siswet19

L – Bonus Question: What is your fantasy fuck?

S – My fantasy fuck is a gangbang where I get fucked until I pass out!

Many thanks to Siswet for being so accommodating to do this interview. We know you’re super busy!!!

Cute Siswet

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.

 

Problem Solving

Lola on the phone, tits out

“Lola, it’s worse than it was before,” said MILF Meri.

“What do you mean, worse?”

“Just that.”

Meri had called late at night.  Lo was in bed next to me.  I could hear everything Meri said since it was so quiet at home and she was so demonstrably loud.

“Worse in what way?”

“Well, it used to be just a hand-job before bed.  A soothing caress to help him fall asleep.”

“Yeah.”

“And now, it’s like every night, he’s sneaking around, waiting for Scott to fall asleep and begging me to go into the first-floor bedroom and let him fuck me.”  That bedroom is Meri’s ‘masturbation room’ where Lo fucked Meri’s husband and three sons the week prior.

“Do you?”

“He’s very persuasive, very persistent.  And, well, you know, he only lasts five minutes at the most.  So, it’s just faster and easier to give in than to resist.”

“Meri, there’s your husband and your other two sons to think about.  None of them know, do they?”

“No.  Not at all.  It’s the first time I’ve ever had to keep something about sex a secret.”

“What about your solo sessions in that room?”

“I usually would shut the door, but it was no secret what I was up to.”

“Usually?”

“I mean, I’d shut the door, but you know what it’s like in my house.  One of the kids always needs something and they would open it without knocking or whatever.”

She was more upset about being interrupted than the invasion of privacy.

“But this is different,” she continued.  “And he wants to do it in there because that’s where he had you.  He opens up your books and looks at your photos while fucking me.”

“I have to go,” said Lo abruptly.  She hung up.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t want to be any part of that,” she said.

“Why do you think she called you?”

“It certainly wasn’t to figure out a solution to her problem.  And even if it was, that’s her problem, not mine.  Let her figure out how to solve it.”

She shut off the lights and silenced her phone.

“Night,” I said.

“Night,” she replied in the dark.

I didn’t fall asleep.  I could tell she wasn’t falling asleep either.  I looked at the clock.  It was ten past ten.

I looked again.  It was ten thirty.

I wasn’t sleeping.  I could tell she wasn’t either.  I didn’t move.  I hardly breathed.  I waited.

Fifteen more minutes passed.

I felt her move.  She spread her legs.  She reached under the blankets.  Rhythmic motions.  Sloshing sounds.  Muted moan.  Faster strokes.  Sudden stop.  “Fuck,” whispered in the dark.  Convulsion.  Release.

She reached for her breasts and caressed and squeezed them.

I was hard under the sheets.

“Jack me off,” I whispered.

She was startled.  She thought I was asleep.

“What?”

“Jack me off.”

“It’s time to sleep,” she said, playing coy.

“Grab my cock and stroke it.  Make me cum.  Just like Meri and her son.”

She obeyed.

“Like this?” she asked as she held me firmly.

“Use some lube,” I instructed.

She reached into her nightstand drawer and pulled out the tube.  She keeps it there, reserved only for me since she has her own, natural lubricant.

She squeezed a dollop into her palm and reached under the blankets again, sliding her hand around my cock.  That first, cold, wet, firm squeeze is the best part of her handjobs.

“You can’t get them out of your head, can you?” I asked.

“No, Daddy.”

“You’re a bad, dirty, depraved, morally degenerate girl.”

“Yes, Daddy.  Can I suck your cock?”

“No.”

“Please, Daddy.”

“No.”

“Do you want to fuck me?”

“No.”

“Do you want to use me?”

“Only your hand.”

“Why?”

“Because, that’s what I want right now.”

“Do you want to fuck Stoya?”

“Yes.”

“OK.”

Stoya and her anal Fleshlight

She got up and pulled out the Fleshlight.  She lubricated it and my cock properly.  I was in a mood to deny her.  I don’t know why.  She slid the pornstar’s pussy on my rod.  She lifted it and lowered it like a single-cylinder engine.

Stoya and her pussies

She could tell by my breathing I was getting close.  She took Stoya off of me and replaced her with her mouth in order to coax all my cum out of me and swallow it.  I can only imagine that the initial taste was unpleasant due to the lube.  Didn’t matter to her.  She wanted my ejaculate.  She wanted to bring me to a climax with her mouth, not Stoya’s pussy.  I gave her what she wanted and she swallowed every warm drop.

“Better Daddy?” she asked.

“Yes.  You’re a good girl.  Now it’s time for sleep.”

Stoya and Lola side-by-side

Tits Out

“Lo, are you watching porn again?” I asked as I noticed her lying on the couch, legs spread, hand cupped in her thigh-gap, her mind keenly absorbed in the screen of her phone.

“No,” she said defiantly.

“Then what are you doing in that provocative position?”

“I happen to be reading an article.”

“Oh yeah?  What article?”

“It’s about the pandemic and relationships.”

“I’m curious.  Tell me more.”

“Oh, it’s just about how some couples realized that their relationship was in shambles once they were deprived of all the other distractions in life.”

“Hmmm, sounds interesting.  What’s it called?”

“I forget the title.”

“But you’re reading it right now.  I’d like to read it too.  What’s it called?”

“Fine,” she said, as if caught fibbing.  “It’s called, ‘First Comes the Pandemic Divorce, Then the Tits Out Summer.’”

“Tits Out Summer, eh?”

Lola’s Tits Out

“It’s educational.”

“I bet it is.”

“Do you plan on having a ‘Tits Out Summer’ this year?”

“This year, every year: summer, winter, spring, fall – never a bad time for tits out.”

“Take ʼem out now.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

She reached into her shirt and pulled her breasts out over the top.

“You’ll stretch it out that way,” I said.

“Stretch what?”

“Your shirt.”

“Oh, I thought you were talking about something else,” she said as she pulled at her nipples, elongating them.

“Mind if I snap a photo or two?  You look divine.”

I pulled out my camera.

“You know,” she said as she posed, “I’ve been called an attention whore for just this sort of exhibitionism.”

“You don’t say.  Preposterous.”

“The way I see it, nudes have always been considered fine art. That’s just how I consider myself – a priceless museum quality piece that should be on display in a venue open to the public.”

“You’re a piece alright!  Very open to the public.”

“What are you implying?”

“I mean, in our day and age, the internet is the democratization of culture, the dissemination of information, the museum for the masses.”

“Quite,” she said as she pressed her tits together.  “And the masses have spoken and I am the embodiment of their collective unconscious vision.”

“Humble too.”

She slid out of her panties and spread her legs.

“I know a photographer who takes photos of naked women,” she remarked.

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“You should introduce us.  We have a lot in common.”

“Not really.  That’s just my point.”

“How so?”

“Well, each of her models is ‘perfect’ in a traditional sort of way and therefore eminently forgettable.”

“I see.”

“I, by contrast, am unique in a memorable sort of way.”

“That you are.”

“Do you want to fuck me, Daddy?”

I put down the camera and picked up my notepad and a pen.

“Daddy?  What are you writing?  I asked, do you want to fuck me?”

“You’ve inspired me,” I said as I scratched away at my note before it vanished from my mind.

“Read it to me,” she said when I put the pad down.  She simultaneously picked up her two plungers — pink and blue (“pink for pussy, blue for bum”) and attached them to the bed’s headboard.

Pink Plunger

“Are you going to engage in double penetration?”

“That’s the objective,” she said, sliding back on the ribbed handles.

“Adventurous.”

“I like to think that I’m open to adventure.  Will you read to me?”

I read from the notebook: “The most beautiful thing in the world cannot be seen, touched, or apprehended by the senses.  It can only be approached by the mind, felt by the soul, and embraced deep within the heart.  It nourishes the imagination and quickens thought.  It is the noumenal trace behind the phenomenal appearance of the nymphomaniac, the sexually confident woman, the eternal feminine open to receive, willing to give, abundantly generous, her glory simultaneously concealing and revealing, her naked resplendence overwhelming thought through her appearance, yet shrouding her in mystery that tantalizes because always unattainable.”

“How Platonic,” she remarked, “and therefore, disappointingly sterile.  Don’t you want to have me?  Don’t you want to approach my body, feel my tits, and embrace me deep within my cunt?  Though I adore your words and ideas, right now I just want you to fuck me.”

Her withering criticism of my inspired panegyric to her dissuaded me from continuing.  If I wanted to praise her, I had to do it apart from words and phrases.  I had to express my love, preferably through my second most penetrating and pleasing organ.

She pulled forward from the headboard, surprising both herself and me as the plungers remained in her holes and became dislodged from the surface where they had been affixed with a sudden pop! noise.  She looked like an animal that had been shot twice with large darts in the aft.  She reached back, pulled the plungers out and lay flat on her back on the bed, playing dead, but for both her hands fidgeting with her pussy as her legs were spread.  She resembled human Mercedes sign.

“I think I’m comprehending your needs,” I said as I removed my clothes.

“Sometimes you’re a genius.”

“My dear, I’m always a genius.  Sometimes I do stupid things.”

“I think it’s the other way around.”

I got between her legs and berated her as she bore the full brunt of my blunt instrument.

The two brothers aren’t enough, slut?  The three brothers and their father couldn’t satisfy your hunger for humiliation?  MILF Meri didn’t cure your craving for cunt?”

She just spread her legs further and took my meat and degradation with stoic equanimity.

For me, at that moment, she was the axis mundi.  Not the world navel, but the hole at the center of the world through which all things emerge in their creation and return in their destruction.

Her hole was wide, taking and giving, full of fluid and overflowing.  There was a sloshing and splashing as she climaxed, after which she simply said, “And now in my ass, Daddy.”

Ass Please Daddy

I pulled out, flipped her over, and slid into her second axis mundi; antipode to the first, the demonic inversion of the fecund orifice.

In one fell swoop I securely conjoined with her and I felt as she gripped my member with intensity.

She cried out in pain, “Now you’ve gone too far!”

“You can’t know where too far is until you get there.”

“You’re hurting me,” she pleaded.

I pulled back, relenting.

“I didn’t say stop,” she called over her shoulder.

I rammed her repeatedly from the rear until her rhythmic response of “oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” transformed into a repeating release of “ah, ah, ah, ah, ah.”

She could tell I was rapidly approaching the point of no return and so she lunged forward, and with a catlike quickness, pivoted one hundred and eighty degrees, opening her mouth and taking my instrument of impalement deep into the back of her throat.

Instinctively, I pulled back, grabbed my manhood with my right hand, and let spew forth all of my liquid love for Lola.

She looked up at me as I painted her face the color of pearl and she said, “I only feel right on my knees, Daddy.”

I spread my legs wide and she got between them, snuggling into my thighs, and licked from balls to tip.  She looked up at me and asked, “Did you like fucking my ass?”

Unable to respond, I put my hands through her thick mane and pressed her face close to my throbbing thermometer.

She opened her mouth and took it in, performing her practice of “cockwarming” as I slowly drifted off to sleep.

Did you like fucking my ass, Daddy?

Happy Families

The next morning, over coffee, while I was cooking up some eggs, Lo asked me completely out of nowhere, “You know what Meri told me when I asked her why the hell she is still with Scott, who has no penis to speak of?”

“No, Darling,” I said, “what?”

“Meri told me that she’s with him because, ‘He calls me: Daddy’s fat little babygirl.’  Can you believe that?”

“What’s not to believe?”
“What’s not to believe?!”

I flipped the eggs, looked at her, and raised my eyebrows in curiosity.

“I mean, well, she’s not fat.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“He’s fat if anyone’s fat.”

“Again, maybe he just likes to think of her that way.”

“She may have put on a few pounds after pumping out three boys, but she’s not fat.  She’s a sexy MILF.  Sexy… MILF… Meri,” she said, gazing off, looking over the brim of her coffee mug.

“You still here or have you gone back down your rabbit hole?”

“And you know what else?”

“No, Darling, what?”

“When I told her about how none of the boys shut the bedroom door while they each had at me –”

“Toast?”

She nodded her head ‘yes,’ as if yesterday’s full day of fucking had famished her.

“She told me that Scott never shuts the bedroom door.”

I carefully put the two eggs and toast in front of her.  I did the same for myself before getting up to grab two glasses and the O.J.

She licked her lips and dug right in, tasting it briefly before continuing.

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” I said, sitting across from her, taking a bite of my breakfast.  “He never shuts the bedroom door.”

“Never, since the kids were small.  They just fuck there.  Doesn’t matter who sees, who’s there, who knows.  She says that he believes it shows their love for each other, so why hide it.”

“I take it you disagree.”

“Yes, I disagree.”

“So fucking doesn’t demonstrate love?”

“You know what I mean.  Certain things are not meant for children to see.  Aren’t you shocked at all?”

She was nearly done with her food already.

“Lo, honestly, nothing about Meri really shocks me.”

“What does that mean?”

I finished up my toast, took the last sip of my juice, and got up to collect the plates and glasses.

“You can’t just say something like that and leave it there,” she insisted.  “What do you mean by that?”

“Different families have different internal cultures and norms,” I said, philosophically.

“This is not a study in cross-cultural family units,” she objected.  “This is your typical suburban middle-class all-American family.”

“Typical families are all alike – each has its own hidden little secret,” I said, poorly paraphrasing Tolstoy.

“Don’t you mean, ‘Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way’?” she asked.  I love Lo because she’s one of the only humans on the planet with whom I can allude to literary lines and not only be understood, but be corrected.

“Show me a happy family and I will show you a family with a secret.”

“But that’s just it,” she retorted emotionally, “it’s like this family doesn’t have any secrets.  They leave it all out there.”

“Is that so?” I asked snidely.  “Then why have you and Meri been afraid that the cops or social services might rap on the door at any moment since you got back from your camping trip?  If Meri leaves it all out there, then why is she living in fear?”

“That’s different.  I mean, within the family, they all just live and let live.”

“More like fuck and let fuck.”

“Either way.”

“So?”

“I just find it interesting.  Well, strange.”

“You said you don’t think it should be like that.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

“And clearly Meri doesn’t either.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked.

“Because she asked to use the brothers (or let the brothers use her) so that she could get her kicks outside of the family.”

“Or maybe she just needed bigger kicks,” remarked Lo, alluding to the genetic trait that Meri’s husband shared with his three sons – the trait that left Lo so unfulfilled.

Lo looked into her empty coffee mug and back up at me sadly.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“What’s warm, wet, and makes you horny?”

Warm, Wet, and Stimulating

“Is this a riddle?”

She showed me her empty cup.

“Oh,” I said, comprehending.  “You need me to fill you up.”

I poured more coffee in and she looked up at me seductively and said, “Just add cream.”

“Well,” I said to her, “I need something warm, wet, and stimulating to get up.”

“Here I am, Daddy,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

“I was speaking about coffee, but really?”  I asked because I thought she had been too well-worn to fuck.

“Well, I’m functional enough to give you a handjob.”

We finished our coffee and then walked to the bedroom where she reached down between my legs to assess the situation.  She felt me and then reached down between her legs.  I heard her smack her pussy a few times and then rub it.  A little factoid about Lola – she never uses lube and certainly never spits in order to lubricate me or herself.  She is almost always so naturally irrigated that she can always use her own secretions to get things slipping and sliding.  She began stroking me.  Despite the fact that she had showered and changed the bedding, I could still detect a whiff of the cum from eight people on her and in the room.

As she was distractedly stimulating me, she got a text.  I heard her chuckle.

“What?” I asked.

She showed me a photo of her, naked, looking disheveled on the bed.

I want my family to see how I fucked you, slut

“After Meri had licked me clean, and was getting dressed, she said to me, ‘Did you like how I fucked you, Lola?  Let me get a photo of you for my husband and my sons.  They’ll want to see just how wrecked I left you, slut.’  She can be cruel sometimes.”

I looked at the photo and pictured all that happening as Lo coaxed me, “Cum.  Please cum.  That’s it, in my hand.  Feel better, Daddy?”

Sweet Service

I had deposited a warm load in her palm.  She licked it like a kitten cleaning her paws.  I began to nod off as the waves of well-being washed over my weak body.

“Oh no,” said Lo, “No sleep for you!  You promised you’d clean up all your books today!”

“I need a mancave to hibernate in,” I said groggily.  “I’m just going rest for a little bit.”

“And I need a womancave!”

“Luckily, you have one.”

“And you’re not welcome in it until you clean up the books.”

I fell asleep.

When I woke up, Lo was going at both her womancaves with the plungers – blue in bum, pink in pussy.

Blue for Bum, Pink for Pussy

She was looking at her phone.

“DP?  Really?” I asked.

“Oh, Daddy.  You know I love double-penetration.  And if you’re not going to give it to me, well, I have to get it somehow.”

“What brought this on?  I thought you were too sore even for me.”

“It’s call desire.”

I was confused.

Once she noticed that I was watching her, she came and came hard, yelling out to me (and all the neighbors within earshot) that she was cumming in her ass and her cunt.

“I call it, ‘Desire'”

When she was done, I asked, “Desire?”

“Yeah,” she said matter-of-factly, “Scott and Meri each texted me separately that they want me.”

“And that’s what made you horny enough to ride dueling dildos?”

“Being desired is my aphrodisiac.”