Sherry Rain

I looked down and I saw Lola’s finger gently stroking Stoya’s pussy.  She slid her wet finger up and down the soft labia and then gently inserted one, then two fingers deep inside.  “You like this, Daddy?  You want to fuck her pussy?” she asked.  I did, but for the moment I was enjoying the view as I held my cock in my hands.

Now, allow me to tell you how we arrived at that supremely sexy moment.

It was late August.  Lo and I packed up our big cooler full of beers, G&T, and various snack items: salsa, hummus, cheeses.  We had a picnic basket full of chips, pita bread, pretzels, and basically everything you could want as an appetizer, but no meal.

We got on the road early.  We knew that the parking spots at the beach would fill up quick since the weather forecast for that Saturday was so perfect and we knew that there wouldn’t be many more opportunities to get to the ocean this summer.

All the way out there, Lo was in high spirits.  In summer she loves three things: heat, beach, and picnic baskets.  Well, and sex.  Don’t forget the sex.  I just like seeing her in her bikini (and out of her bikini).

We got there just in time to get one of the few remaining spots in the parking lot and I carried the heavy stuff while Lo rolled the cooler.  We set up the chairs and umbrella, spread out the beach blanket, and I pulled out a book and sat in the chair surveying the area while Lo lay spread eagle on the blanket.

“On the B.P.?” Lo asked me.  That’s our abbreviation for either “Beach Patrol,” or, more accurately, “Butt Patrol.”

There were a few couples around us, but we were in the mostly vacant far end of the beach, away from the crowds and screaming children.

The hours spent soaking up the sun sped by as Lo and I sipped our cold drinks and nibbled on the provisions.  I got a good chunk of reading done, swam a few times when I got too hot to bake any longer, and enjoyed seeing Lo apply and reapply her sunscreen.

When the sun was low on the horizon, Lo and I packed up our temporary home in the sand, put it all in the trunk and then headed off to one of our favorite restaurants, right on the water.

We walked up to the rooftop bar and, though it was crowded, we managed to snag the last high-top table for two overlooking the blue water below and the sunset in the distance.  It was perfect.  We were famished and already feeling the effects of day-drinking while sunbathing.

We ate our meal as the band played “Margaritaville” and other classic summer songs.  Lo’s feet kept rubbing up on my legs.  I could tell what she was hungry for now and I was eager to get her home to feed it to her.

We paid the bill and just as we stood to leave, we heard someone from the next table say, “Oh, don’t go yet!”  Was that directed at us?  I turned around and saw two women sitting at one of the other high-top tables.  Rather than sit across from one another, as Lo and I had been sitting in order to see each other, they both sat on one side of the small table and they were looking at us.  My back was to them the whole time, but had Lo seen them?  I don’t know.

“What?” I asked, politely, but a bit defensively.

“Don’t go yet,” one of them repeated.  Apparently they enjoyed looking at us.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“Never mind her,” said the other woman in a deeper voice, “we’ve been here all day and now she’s drunk.”

“I am not!” the first protested.

“Whatever,” said the second.

We were in no hurry, we had been together all day, and something about these two women appealed to us (or appealed to our vanity), so we took a seat on the other side of the table.  We began with introductions.  The taller, deeper voiced woman was Sherry and the smaller, sandy-haired woman’s name was Rain.  They were a couple.  They had been together for about a year and they admitted to watching the two of us.

We ordered another round of drinks, even though Lo and I had already settled up for our dinner.

“You have amazing tits,” said Rain.  She was either less reserved than Sherry, or much more drunk.  I couldn’t tell since I knew them not at all.

Lo almost blushed, but not quite.  She was still in her bikini top and shorts.

“She has a great ass too,” I chimed in.

“I bet,” said Rain, liking her lips.  The gesture reminded me of Lo’s trademark move and when I looked over at Lo, it was like a mirror reflection of Rain.  They clearly had chemistry.  I looked at Sherry whose poker face was inscrutable.  Did she enjoy the flirting, as I did, or resent it?  Was this just another night out for this interesting couple, or was Rain playing a dangerous game?

No matter, it wasn’t my relationship at stake.

We continued drinking and finding out more about the two of them.  Rain was a yoga instructor.  Sherry worked in finance.  An odd couple, for sure.

The band continued to play and at some point after we had had another round or two, they played Bob Marley’s “Three Little Birds.”

“I love this song!” Rain informed us as she jumped off her barstool and grabbed Lo’s hand saying, “Dance with me,” as she almost dragged her onto the dancefloor.  The two of them swayed back and forth and Rain put her hands on Lo’s hips as Lo put her arms around Rain’s waist.  I could see their lips moving, but not hear what they said. I realized that I wasn’t the only one watching them.  Not only were the other folks in the bar glued to these two long-haired, sexy beach babes dancing, but Sherry was also eyeing them closely.  I decided to use the opportunity of our being mutually abandoned to try to understand what was going on for her.

“She always this friendly?” I asked.

A tense smile hid her frustration.  “Rain?  She’s a very free spirit,” she said.  It was meant to sound like a compliment, but it came across as a complaint.

“Same with Lo,” I said, genuinely, “that’s why I love her so.”

She smiled again and I decided to lighten the mood a bit.  “You have great teeth.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised, clearly not used to being complimented, “thanks.”

One little observation goes a long way.  After that, she really opened up to me, telling me more about her and Rain.

The band played another song and Lo and Rain kept dancing.  I saw Rain move her hand to Lo’s butt, over her denim shorts.  Their bodies moved closer together, their steps smaller.

Sherry told me that this was her first relationship with a woman.  She was newly divorced.  She had two kids – teenagers.  They were very conflicted about everything.  I could see that either their emotions reflected her own or she was projecting.  She and Rain had only been together about a year and a half.  Rain had never been with a man, but was fascinated by men. . . and afraid of them.

Sherry was just as intoxicated as Rain, I realized, only she hid it better.  She hid, or tried to hide, a lot of things.  She went on to tell me that she’s often caught Rain masturbating to porn of guys jackin’ it and cumming.  “She’s fascinated by guys ejaculating,” she said as if it was the most bizarre thing for a lesbian to be curious about.  “She watches it again and again.”

Lo and Rain came back from the dance floor.

“At least someone dances with me,” Lo said, jibing me for my reluctance to set foot on any dance floor.

“At least someone talks to me,” I said, looking at Sherry.

“Oh yeah,” asked Rain, “what were you two talking about?”

“If I tell you,” I said, “you’ll tell me how nice Lo’s ass is.”

“Deal!” she said.

I looked at Sherry and saw real fear in her eyes.  Of course I wasn’t going to publicize her intimate revelation.  “We were just talking about Shelly’s kids and how quickly they grow up.”

“I know!  Right?” said Rain, “When I met them, I was taller than both of them.  But now they’re both this tall,” she said, putting her hand above her head by a foot.

Sherry looked relieved.

We talked some more, got some appetizers and more beer.  Lo and I opened up about our special relationship.  When Rain heard that I’m not allowed to have the same freedoms as Lo, she suddenly became more interested in me.  It was as if being off limits was a dare for her, a challenge, a goal.  She was now openly flirting with both Lo and me.

I completely lost track of time, but I knew we had a long drive home.  We got the check, exchanged numbers, and said that we all need to come back here again together before the summer was over.

We walked downstairs and out onto the sidewalk.  Their destination was the opposite direction from ours.  Lo gave a hug to Sherry as I went in to give a goodbye hug to Rain, but to my great astonishment, rather than a hug, Rain’s lips came in right for mine.  This was no little, polite peck goodnight, but an open-mouthed kiss, full of lips-on-lips and tongue exploration.  She hugged me close and squeezed and the thought occurred to me that she was squeezing me as she wanted to be squeezed.

When our embrace ended, I furtively looked over to Lo to see just how much trouble I was in now.  But Lo was busy talking with Sherry.  Had either of them seen what just went down?  Then Lo came over to Rain to give her a very proper and polite hug goodbye while I hugged Sherry.  There were no hard feelings, or at least none that I could detect.

Lo and I began walking along the dimly lit sidewalk next to the dark beach.  In our spirited conversation with the women, apparently Lo forgot the most important thing to do before departing a bar.

“Daddy,” she said, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“What?”

“I have to pee.  So bad.”

“Well, let’s go back.  You can. . .”

She cut me off.  “No,” she said, “why should we go all the way back when we have all the beach to ourselves?”

“What?” I asked, astonished as I saw Lo walk onto the sandy beach, pull down and remove her shorts but leaving on her bikini bottoms as she stuck out her bum like she was grinding into the invisible groin of someone in a dance club.

“Are you peeing?” I asked in disbelief.

“Come here and I’ll show you,” she said, grabbing my wrist, pulling my hand between her legs so I could feel the drips as they seeped through her bottoms.

“Lo,” I gasped, “you’re bad!”

“You love it,” she said.  “You know you do.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“OK,” she said, “let’s go.”

She grabbed me so we walked arm-in-arm and she sashayed down the sidewalk.

“Feel better, dear?”

“Much,” she said.  “Feel hard, dear?” she asked as she reached over to feel my cock under my bathing suit.  “Oh yeah,” she said, answering her own question, “you feel hard alright.”

She wasn’t wrong.

We got to the car and I got in, but I called to Lo before she got in.  “Hey, you plan on taking off your bottoms?”

“What?”

“Your bottoms.  Do you plan on taking them off?”

“Here?  On the street?”

“Yes here, on the street.  You certainly don’t plan on sitting on my car seat like that do you?”

“Like what, Daddy?” she asked innocently.

“Drenched in pee.”

“Drenched in pee?!  What are you talking about?”

“Your little trinkle on the beach.”

“What?”

“You honestly don’t remember?”

“No.  Is that why I’m all wet?  I just thought I was really horny.  I mean, I am really horny, but is that why I’m wet?”

“Yes.  So strip.”

“This sounds like a fun ride,” she said as she dropped her bikini bottoms onto the sidewalk, threw them in the trunk, and got in the car.

I started up the engine and she reached over to grab my cock.  “Do you want me to straddle you, Daddy?” she asked.

“No, Lo, I’m driving home.”

“Can I blow you?”

“No.”

“Hand job?”

“No.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do for this long ride home?” she asked as she put her bare feet up on the dashboard, spreading them to make a ‘V’ of her legs.  “Just look at what you’ve got here,” she said as she slapped her cleanly shaved pussy.

She put the seat all the way back and reclined it as far as it would go, keeping her feet up on the dash as she began massaging her pussy.  But within mere moments she was sound asleep next to me.

We got home and I roused her.  It took a great deal of effort, but I finally got her out of the car and up the stairs of our apartment building, all butt naked.

Once in our apartment she crawled into bed.  Now she was waking up.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” she said, spreading her legs.

“Lo, you’re beyond the ability to consent.”

“No I’m not, Daddy,” she protested.  “Don’t you want me?”

“I sure do, but I’m not having you,” I replied.

“Please?”

“No.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to take things into my own hands,” she said, pulling out her dildo from under the bed and swiftly inserting it between her legs.

“If you’re going to do that,” I countered, “then I’m going to have some fun too.  You’re not the only one with toys anymore.”

I rummaged through the closet and found my Stoya Fleshlight.

“No, Daddy!  You wouldn’t dare!” she cried, still masturbating.  “You wouldn’t have her when you could have me, would you?”

“Lo, I’m not having you.”

She grabbed Stoya from my hands and began touching her pussy lips.

“You can lubricate her for me, if you want,” I said.

She put out her hand and took some lube from the bottle as I squeezed it into her palm.

She stroked the pussy gently as I held my love organ in my hands.

“You like fingering her?” I asked.

No response.

“Are you thinking of Rain right now?”

“How’d you know?” she asked.

I was standing next to the bed as I watched all of this happening.  Then Lo slid so that her legs were dangling off the side of the bed.  With one hand she kept the dildo rhythmically fucking her pussy and with the other hand she slid Stoya’s pussy over my rock-hard cock.

“You like that, Daddy?”

Now I didn’t answer.

She went back and forth with the Fleshlight, fucking my cock with it as she fucked herself with her dildo.

“That’s it, Daddy, fuck her.  Fuck her like you’d fuck me,” she said until she squirted all over the wood floor next to the bed.  At the sight of her ejaculation, I grabbed Stoya with both hands and fucked Stoya hard and fast.  Lo reached down, underneath and held my balls.  She likes to feel them contract when I ejaculate.  I came and came a lot inside Stoya.

After we cleaned everything up, Lo lay in my arms.  She fell right to sleep.  I held her and thought of the sound of the waves gently rolling over the silent sand of the beach in the moonlight.

Sexy Shorts: Punctuality

It was one of the first really cold days in November and we went to a football game together.  When we returned home around 4:30, we were both cold.

“My hands just can’t get warm,” cried Lo.

“Put them down my pants,” I said, “I wore long johns.”

“You would,” she said as if implying something, but that didn’t stop her from putting both hands down there and cuddling my cock and balls in her chilly palms.

“Thanks,” she said.

“My pleasure.  Truly.”

We were expecting company, but not until 6:00.  After her hands warmed up, Lo began to stroke her pussy with one hand while tugging on my cock with the other.  Suddenly the doorbell rang.  “Who the hell?” I asked, upset at the interruption.  I had to hop out of bed to answer the door.  Lo stayed in bed.

It was our guests.  I felt like telling them that punctuality is a deadly sin in my book.

I popped my head in the bedroom to announce our guests to the lady of the house.  She was decidedly not impressed by their promptness.  “Whatever happened to fashionably late?!” she asked, pulling her panties up and scrounging for something to wear.

Later that night, as the company was going out the door I said, “Come again.”

After the company left, Lo said to me, “I can’t believe they came so early!  I had plans.”

“What sort of plans?”

“I was going to jill it and cum and you were going to do me and cum and I was going to jill it some more and cum again.”

“Those are the best sorts of plans.”

“Yeah. . . the best laid plans.”

Bigger, Harder, Longer

Carrying a mug of coffee, I walk in on her just as she is squirting, pulling the Hitachi away from her clit.  Her hands scrunch up the sheets under her and her legs are spread.  Her head lifts and her breasts heave as she breathes quick breaths, screaming, “Oh Fuck!  Oh FUCK!  OH Fuuuuck!!!”  She looks over at me and says, “Don’t just stand there, get me a towel!”  I do so.

“I just came to tell you breakfast is ready.”

“Thanks for the coffee, Daddio!”

“When you’re ready, I’ll see you at the breakfast table.”

“But you didn’t kiss me good morning.”

“Yes I did.”

“No you didn’t.”

“I did – all night long.”

“Yeah.  I had to punch you to get you to stop and let me sleep.”

“Well, those were your good morning kisses.”

“I want one now.”

I lean over to kiss her good morning.  She lets me kiss her on the lips before pushing my head down between her legs.  “I meant there,” she says.

“Lo, I’m not going to eat you out before I eat breakfast.  It’s on the table getting cold!”

“Just one kiss, Daddio.  Please.”

I indulge her.  One kiss turns to a full-on tongue-fuck-fest of every area between her legs from the small of her back to her bellybutton.  Luckily she cums quickly.  I pull back and go into the bathroom to splash water on my face.  Her juices have a way of soaking my beard and mustache.  I look up, into the vanity mirror over the sink and see her preparing to pound herself with a dildo.

“OK, that does it!” I call to her.  “I’m just going to throw out the breakfast I made.”

“No, Daddio, I’ll be there in. . .”  Her words trail off as she becomes preoccupied with the instrumental manipulation of her puss.

I walk out of the bedroom, my hard-on leading the way.  I sit down at the breakfast table alone and eat the luke-warm eggs and toast while I hear her sing-song voice of oohs and ahs crescendo from the bedroom.

When we’re both done, I stand up, put my plate and glass in the sink and I bring her her breakfast on a tray.

“Oh, breakfast in bed!” she squeals, leaning over to put her toys away safely stashed under the bed.

“If Mohammed won’t come to the mountain, then the mountain will come to Mohammed.”

“Daddy, I’ll cum to anything.”

“Don’t I know it!  What did you cum to today?”

“I’m sorry Daddy,” she says, looking guilty.

“Why?  Because you let your eggs and toast get cold?”

She shakes her head, no.

“What is it then?  That you used my mouth, but kept all the orgasms to yourself?”

Again she shakes her head in the negative.  Keeping orgasms to herself gives her no guilt.

“Then what?”

She passes her phone to me.  I look at it.  It’s a photo of a giant black cock.

“A friend of yours?”

“Not yet, but I hope someday.”

“Who is it?”

“Just a fan.”

“A fan of your pics, not my writing I assume.”

“I don’t know.  I didn’t ask him about it.”

“What’s he have to say for himself?”

“I don’t know.  He just sent me this pic and. . .”

“And it’s got you all preoccupied.”

She shook her head yes with a guilty look on her face.  “I want it, Daddy!” she said like a girl asking for a big lollipop at the circus.

I turn to leave the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“To do the dishes.”

“I’ll do it!”

“No, I’ll do it.  I don’t like the way you do it.  Besides, you have to eat your cold breakfast.”

“Why do you wish to maintain control all the time?”

“It’s not a matter of retaining control.  It’s a matter of maintaining standards.”

“You have so many standards.  Double standards.”

“I only have one standard. . . the best.”

“That’s my line,” she says, followed by, “but, if you’re speaking about me, then go on.”

I finally walk out the bedroom into the kitchen.  As I’m in the midst of putting dishes into the dishwasher, Lo saunters up to the entrance of the kitchen naked as the day she was born, she turns to me and says, “Are you jealous?”  She’s always trying to get me jealous, to no avail.

“Lo, you’re standing right where the neighbors can see you through the window, you know.”

“Does that make you jealous?”

“No.  But it may make the neighbor’s wife jealous!”

“Phhh,” she sounds dismissively, bending over to give the neighbor a more explicit view.  As she’s bent over, she says, “I’m just a hotwife with an exhibitionist’s streak and a loving man who can use his fingers to type out stories that make people come back for more.”

“I don’t think your big friend was coming back for my writing.”

“Well, I can’t help it if behind every good nympho is a line of men waiting to fuck her and behind every bad nympho is a longer line.”

“Which one are you?”

“Fuck me, Daddy, and you’ll see.”

“No, Lo, I already know.  I was just testing to see if you would admit to it.”

“The line behind me is very long, very hard,” she says as she reaches over and grabs my cock.

“That doesn’t make sense.  How is the line hard?”
“Fuck me and I’ll show you.”

She bends over, this time with her rear towards me rather than toward the window.

“Are you still doing the same old thing?” I ask.

“You mean you?” she asks, looking at me from between her legs.

“Very funny.  This ‘old thing’ is going to work.”

“Work on me!”

“Didn’t I make you cum this morning? – and you squirted all over me and the bed!”

“That was a drop in the bucket.”

She wiggles her ass, like she’s playing charades.  So I guess, “You’re horny.”

She sees the bulge in my khakis.  “And you want me.”

“Yes, Lo.  I always want you.  But sometimes I have to actually go to work.”  I walk over to her and give her wiggling bum a good smack.

“Mmmmm,” she moans, “again!”

I repeat.

“I love spankings,” she says, “they’re like applause, but on my ass!  Let me hear how much you like my ass.”

I ‘applaud’ her five or six times.  But I do no more than applaud.  I then walk out of the kitchen.

“But Daddy,” I hear her call down the hallway, “what about my encore!”

I leave the house and go to work, but on my way home that afternoon, I stop and run a special errand for Lo.  For a while now I’ve wanted to try a cock sleeve.  I run into my local adult toy shop and peruse the possibilities.  After a careful review, I decide on one that is a total of 11 inches, dark brown in complexion, very realistic, and best of all, has a ring to wrap around my balls to anchor the sleeve in place.

Back at home I find that Lo has invited a few people over for a little get-together.  Unaware that we were expecting company, I have to find a way of sneaking the rather large box in the house inconspicuously.  I decide to pop my head in, say hello to the guests, and declare that we need some more beer.  I run out to the local store and pick up a six-pack.  I throw the toy in the plain brown bag and rush in, crossing my fingers that no one stops me on the way.

They are all in the living room and I call out, “I’m back!  I’ll just pop these in the fridge and be right there.”  I head to the bedroom first, hide my stash under the bed, and then put the beer in the fridge, removing one for myself first.

Walking in on our little circle of friends, I take a look at Lo and see that she has put on a stunning little number.  Her heels, her short-shorts, and her black tank-top with her one-size-too-small push-up bra under it, giving her quite the shelf popping out of the top.  What’s the reason for this, I wonder.

I give her a kiss hello and tell her I’m famished, looking at her quizzically.

Lola complains that the meal she prepared didn’t come out the way that she was hoping.

I say, “You know, I don’t think love is blind so much as love is deaf.”

“What does that mean?” she asks.

“You could go on complaining like that all night, but because you look so good, I don’t hear a thing.”

I get a little laugh from everyone there and then the ‘guests of honor’ arrive.  Two young men from across the street who had moved in recently were invited by Lo.  Brothers.  Built.  Did I mention young?

“HH, you remember Roy and Gary,” she says, that look of desire in her eye, her tongue running over her lips as she introduces us.  “I just thought,” she says innocently, “since we were having people over, I’d invite them as well.”

“Very neighborly of you,” I say.

The rest of the night goes on with Lo dancing that fine line between being a charming hostess and a wicked vixen.

Finally, past eleven, all our guests leave, including the brothers from across the street.

Lo goes into the bedroom and when I emerge out of the bathroom, cock sleeve firmly in place, Lo nearly jumps in fear and fawning over the giant extension between my legs.

“What the hell is that?!” she cries out.

“Just something special I bought for you today.”

“What?  Why?  Today?”

“Yes.  Because you were so enamored of your fan who sent you that pic that was longer than your forearm.”

“But Daddio, you know I love you,” she says, reaching out to grab the long appendage and feel its heft and girth.

“Yes, but you long for bigger, longer, thicker, and bigger.”

“You mentioned bigger twice.”

“I like how indignant you are.”

“Indignity is my forte.”

“No, lack of dignity is your forte.”

“Daddy, I have loads of dignity.  I just prefer to be degraded in the bedroom.”

“Well, do what you do best and get on the bed, spread your legs, make yourself good and wet, and let me pound you with this monster cock.”

“I thought you’d never ask.  Oh, and by the way, I’m already super wet.  I have been all night.”

“The brothers?”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

I do as she wishes and I have to admit that it was a little difficult to fit the bulbous bad-boy in, but once in, Lo takes all of it with grace and gratitude.

“Can I use my Hitachi?” she asks.

“Of course,” I say, since with this sleeve it’s easy for me to lean back and give her enough room to fit her Hitachi over her clit.  With the sleeve on, there is significantly less sensation and I welcome the vibrations of the Magic Wand.

Within mere moments Lo is saying, “Pull out!  PULL OUT!  I have to squirt!”

I do as she says and an impatient stream of spray shoots out on me.

“Holy shit!” she says, as if she had never cum like that before.  Maybe she hadn’t.  Maybe every time it feels like the first.  But just as soon as the words are out of her mouth, she rolls over and says, “Take that silly thing off now and fuck me rawdog!”

I obey and begin from behind her and say, “Lo, don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t even feel you.  That sleeve spread you so wide.”

“Don’t you take this the wrong way,” she says over her shoulder, “but I can hardly feel you.  Now fuck me like you mean it.”

I do as she commands and as I pound her from behind, all the wetness covering her ass splish-splashes with each thrust and it makes a slick slapping sound.

I continue harder and faster, hoping to register something within her, and after much striving I finally succeed.  I hit my target and she cums even harder than she did the first time.

But then something I’ve never seen before happens.  She literally passes out mid-orgasm.  She faints from fucking.  She swoons from sex.  She is out cold for about three or four minutes.  When she comes to, she just asks to hold me.

“What happened Daddy?”

“I don’t know,” I say.  “One minute you were cumming, the next you were out cold.  How much did you have to drink tonight?”

“One glass of champagne.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.  I swear.”

“Have you ever fainted from fucking before?”

“No Daddy.  Never.”

“How do you feel?”

“Great.”

“Did you cum in me Daddy?”

“No, Lo.  I didn’t cum at all.”

“Are you sure?” she asks feeling between her legs.

“Yes Lo.  That’s all from you.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.  You were wonderful.”

“But I passed out – literally on you.”

“It’s ok.  I took it as a compliment.”

“You would.  You have such a big ego.”

“If you’re talking about this,” I say, holding the sheath, “then you’re right.  It is big.  I had a big ego before, and now it’s even bigger.”

“Daddy, a man’s ego is not his cock size.”

“No.  I agree.  But the bigger his cock size, the bigger his ego.”

“Well, you’d better watch out.  You know what they say?”

“No, what’s that?”

“The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

“Oh?  Is that how it goes?  I thought it was, the harder they cum the harder they pass out.”

 

Fuck Noir

It was one of those weeks when I was feeling low rather than feeling Lo.  A depression had settled in and, too depressed to do anything, I felt like trying to shake it was as futile as anything else I had tried to do in my life.  Dark thoughts.

Lo had been trying to seduce me all week.  “Fuck it out,” she’d say, “you’ll feel better after.”

“Lo,” I’d reply, “you know that depleting my Chi energy through ejaculation is a certain method for moving my mood from the ground floor into the basement.”

“Well, then just don’t cum.  I’ll cum enough for the both of us!”

Though I found her determination amusing, it did little more than evoke a wry smile from my lips.

As a direct result of my lack of amorous affection for her, Lo felt no desire to keep herself primed and ready for a good romp – with me or anyone – and she let her hair-down-there grow out.

Coming to bed one night, I saw her lying naked over the covers.  “Wow,” I remarked, unaware of the words escaping my mouth, “you’re looking very 1970’s!”

She immediately pulled the blanket up and over herself, saying, “I suddenly feel a cold draft.”

I can be cruel when in the throes of depression and so I responded with, “You shouldn’t be cold, you have a warm fleece.”

I climbed into bed and opened a book.  Beginning to read next to her, she turned to me and said, “With that facial hair you look like a movie villain.”

“You know, don’t you, that the villain of every story is the hero of his own story?”

“Yeah, well you’re the villain – even in your own story.”

“I can live with that.  You know that Milton’s great dilemma when writing Paradise Lost was that he had drawn the Devil in such a villainous way that he became the most compelling and interesting character.  God didn’t have a chance when the Devil was on stage.”

“Really?  Milton?  Really?  You are the most literary narcissist I ever did meet!”

“I take that as a compliment,” I said to her.

She reached over, more lovingly this time, and she said, “Daddy, you really do need to trim your beard.”  She rubbed my rough beard with her hand and tugged a little on it.

“When did you masturbate?” I asked.

She looked guilty and then said, “A little while ago.”

“When?”

“Just before you came into the bedroom.  How did you know?”

“I can smell you on your fingertips.”

“Well,” she replied, “if you’re not going to finger me, then someone has to.”  As she said this, she moved her hand down to my crotch.

Never one to miss a moment to spoil the mood when my mood is foul, I called out, “Why are your hands so cold?!  Were you giving the Ice Man a handjob before he cometh?”

She wrapped her legs around my bare legs and I felt her feet on my feet.  I followed my first question with another, “A foot job too?”

“The Ice Man has a warmer heart (and bigger dick) than you!” she said, rolling away from me and grabbing her phone.

I fell asleep to the tap-tap-tap of her texting with someone.

The next day was Saturday and it was a beautiful spring day.  Lo was up and about and I was lying on the couch in the living room.  Lola approached me like a puppy and said, “Come outside with me!”

“No.”

“Yes.  It’s so bright out there.”
“But it’s so dark in here.”

“Look,” she said, opening the blinds, “it’s the first beautiful day of spring!  Let’s get out and enjoy it!”  She proceeded to open all of the blinds and the windows to let the warm breeze flow through the room.

Like a vampire mortally injured by the light, I got up to leave.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Are you going to come in the bedroom? – Because I’m going to take a nap.”

“I’ll probably cum several times. . . anywhere.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” I said, as I went to the bedroom and locked the door.  She followed and was nonplused at finding the door locked.

“Let me come in!”

“No, no!  Go, go!”

“I’ll come in, you’ll cum in.  It will be even!”

“No.”

“Then at least come out.  Look, to get out of this depression you need to do something.”

“Well, I’m not doing you.”

“That was my first suggestion, but I’ll settle for going for a walk or to the gym.  Physical activity will help.”

I unlocked the door.  She entered the bedroom.  “Fine,” I said.

Getting ready for the gym, I put on sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

“You’re not really going to wear that, are you?” she asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“You look like a senior-citizen mall-walker.”

“And?  I’m just going to the gym, not a cocktail party.”

“And won’t you be hot?  Aren’t you going to break a sweat in that?”

“Oh, gosh, I certainly hope not!”

She was naked and sitting on the edge of the bed.  “Come here,” she asked seductively, spreading her legs and putting her hand between them, using her fingers to spread her pussy lips.

“No.”

“Don’t you want it, Daddy?”

“No.”

“But I want you.  I can see the outline of your big, thick dick in those sweatpants.”

“Lo, what are you going to wear to the gym?”

“Come here and I’ll tell you.”

“No.”

“Please.”

I gave in and walked over to her, convinced she wouldn’t succeed in her seduction.  As soon as I was between her legs, her knees clamped on my legs, capturing me and holding me tightly.

“Lo, you’re a human Penis Flytrap!”

“I think you must have Adult ADD.  One of the symptoms is relentless bad puns.”

“You’re saying I have AADD?”
“If you want to put it that way.”

“Sounds like my report card from high school.”

“You see, perfect example!”

“I heard once that among entrepreneurs there is an inordinate proportion of people with Adult ADD.  I heard that those entrepreneurs are good at multitasking and that they surround themselves with lots of competent people who stay on task.  That’s what I do.  I’m a captain and I have a lot of first mates.”

“Oh really?”

“Well,” I said more kindly, “my dear, you’re my first first mate.”

“I’m my own captain.  I’m no one’s first mate,” she said, putting her thumb to her sternum, pointing to herself proudly.

“Captain, eh?”

“That’s right, and I like to be surrounded by lots of semen.”

“And you say I have bad puns.”

“Give me some semen, Daddy, please,” she asked, pulling my cock out from my sweatpants and putting it in her mouth, to no avail.  Having failed in her attempt, she then got on the bed on all fours, flaunting her ass in front of me.  “What do you think?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at me.

“Booty-full,” I said.

“Punny,” she said sardonically.

“Honestly, Lo,” I said, “I wish that I felt well enough to put my penis in your vagina.”

“Daddy!” she exclaimed, feigning shock.

“I’m sorry dear, I couldn’t think of a more poetic way of phrasing that.”

“That’s ok.  I like the direct route.”

“Are we going to the gym or what?”

“Yes,” she said, “because if we’re going to go to a nude beach this year, then we have to get in shape.”

We?” I asked.

“Yes, we.  Us.”

“I’m in a shape.  In fact, I think I look flabulous.”

“Flabulous?”

“Yeah.  I might not have abs.  I might have flabs, but they look flabulous.”

“Well, then,” she said, “at least I feel like I have to get in shape.  I think I gained four pounds this winter.  Does it show?”

“Lo, you know that I would be happy if you gained forty pounds!”

“That’s nice of you to say but. . .”

“You know, there’s a kink out there called feederism, or something like that, where gaining weight is considered sexually arousing?”

“So, I have to get fat in order to get you up?”

“I’m not saying that.  I’m just saying all bodies are beautiful bodies.”

She rolled over on her tum and asked, “All?”

“Well, dear,” I corrected myself, “yours most of all.”

“That’s more like it.”

On the way to the gym, I remarked to her, “I was listening to Billy Joel the other day.  Some of his lyrics are just brilliant.”

“Like, ‘I heard about sex but not enough’?”

“Of all his lyrics, that’s the one lyric that you remember?”

“It speaks to me.”

“Well, I was thinking about the song, ‘I Go to Extremes.’”

“What about it?”

“It speaks to me.”

When we got to the gym, Lo wanted to start in the weight room.  Our gym is co-ed, obviously, and in the weight room there are lots of big, burly men who love to look at themselves in the full-length mirrors that surround the room on all the walls.  Lots of mirrors.  There are, of course, some women who, truth be told, also like to look at themselves in the mirrors.  They just don’t make as big a show of it as the guys do.

Lo likes looking at everybody, including herself, and, this particular morning, I found out in the worst of ways, she liked to be looked at as well.  She went right for the bench press and, asking me to spot her, she got on her back under the bar, her feet flat on the floor, her legs spread, and she asked with great deference, for my advice on lifting the twenty pounds (plus the weight of the bar, of course).

I gave her a few pointers and then stood behind her head, my hands cupped under the bar just in case she needed a little boost.  She looked up from the bench where her head was perched perfectly between my legs.  Had we been alone at home, she would have had a perfect angle for some fun play.  Her tongue ran across her sparkling white teeth and she mouthed the words, “Oh, Daddy!” as her eyes roamed to my crotch.

I rolled my eyes, but soon saw that some of the guys in the gym were stealing glances our way.  “Lo, try to get it up, will you?”  I honestly didn’t mean to say that.  I was talking about the bar, but it just came out that way.

“I’ve been trying all week,” she said.  “I think that with this good, hard, steel rod, I can make some progress.”  She went to lift the bar and lower it to her chest.  With a controlled exhale, she pushed the bar back up.  “That was good, right?!”  She was very excited by her accomplishment.

“Excellent!” I said, trying to be encouraging.  I looked up and noticed more guys’ eyes looking at her.  Was it that her legs were spread?  Was it that her face was down by my crotch?  Was it her breasts heaving as she lay flat on the bench?  I couldn’t tell what the interest was, but across the room the guys doing curls with free-weights, causing their already large biceps to bulge, were looking right at Lo.  It seemed like she was giving them inspiration.

After bench pressing, we did a few other strength exercises and we didn’t exact quite as much attention.  She told me that at the top of the hour a yoga class was starting and she encouraged me to join her in it.  “Yoga will be good for you.  It’s known to reduce depression.”  Reluctantly, I agreed.

In the yoga studio, the mats were arranged in five rows of four deep.  People gradually entered and chose their spots and began stretching out.  Lola took the front-center mat in the room and told me to take the spot behind her.  I did so.  I tried stretching.  Touching my toes was a challenge.  When the room was full, the instructor came in and she stood right in front of Lo.  We began easily enough and all was fine, until “Downward Dog.”  That’s when I figured out what the guys in the gym were looking at – Lo wasn’t wearing any panties!  Here little green yoga shorts were loose-fitting enough for her pussy to peek out when doing the bench press and now at yoga.  She looked over her shoulder at me when she came out of the pose and she knew that I knew what a bad girl she was.  Needless to say, part of my body was not as limber as it should be for yoga after that.  I think that I wasn’t the only one to notice my little slut’s slutty ways.  I played it off like I wasn’t with Lo.  Who?  Her?  That one in the front row showing her joie de vivre to the class?  Nope, don’t know her at all.  I’m just right behind her for the best view.

When the hour was over, Lo made it clear to the class that I was her man and she was my hotwife by grabbing my arm and congratulating me on getting through the entire class.  She looked down at the protrusion in my sweatpants and said, “I think you need to walk that off.”

I gave her a deriding look.

All the way home, she walked in front of me wiggling her little ass.

When we got home she said, “I’m so wet from working out.”

“I bet you are,” I replied.

“I’m going to take a shower.  Care to join?”

“No.  I’ll take one later.”
“Fine,” she said in a huff, “I was going to masturbate in there anyhow.”

“I figured.”

She was in there almost an hour.  When she was done, she walked stark naked into the kitchen and began slicing a tomato.

Hearing her futzing about, I came into the kitchen and asked, “Did you take a shower?”

“Yes.”

“Did you jill it?”

“No.  I made myself smooth.” She turned from the counter toward me and displayed her silky white skin of her mons pubis to me.

“Then why aren’t you bent over the bed?”

“Because I’m making you dinner.”

“Can’t I have an appetizer first?”

“Oh, now you want it?  What happened to your depression?”

“I’m just asking for a small taste to whet my appetite.”

“Just a taste?” she asked, incredulously.

“Yes.  April is abstinence month.”

“Really?  Since when?”

“I just proclaimed it such.”

“Well, this month sure won’t last long.”

“I’m telling you Lo, it’s Celibate City for me.”

“Forget it, Daddio, it’s Vaginatown.”

Sexy Shorts: Like Clockwork

It’s getting late and I wonder why Lola’s still asleep.  I walk into the bedroom and find her naked, her fingers between her legs, watching a video on her phone.  She doesn’t stop, as she usually does when I interrupt her solo-time, so I sit in the chair and watch her.  She looks up from the bed and says, “Do you mind?”

“What?”

“I’m not masturbating to put on a show for you.  I’m masturbating because I have to cum before I go to work and I have to be at work in fifteen minutes.  I trying to get this done here.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you.”

“You are stopping me.  I just want to fuck myself and finish.”

“Go right ahead.”

“Grrrrr,” she grumbles, dropping the phone, pulling out her dildo and stuffing it in her wet crotch with both hands.  In-and-out, in-and-out she furiously pounds herself until, thirty or forty seconds later, she slides the twelve-incher out of her and ejaculates a spray of cum all over the bed.

As she catches her breath, I say, “Feeling better?”

“Yes.  No thanks to you.”

“It was a win-win.  You came, I got to see you cum.”

“I would have cum faster if you hadn’t interrupted me.”

“I’m sorry, I was just checking on you because I didn’t want you to oversleep.”

“Well, I’m up.”

“And now, so am I.”

Spring Showers

It was a beautiful springtime afternoon.  After about three days of storm clouds, rain, wind, and cold temperatures (one should not have to wear a scarf in May!), finally the gray skies gave way to blue and that round, yellow orb appeared.  What’s that thing called?  Oh yeah, the sun!  Birds began singing, and for the first time I realized that the tulips, azaleas, forsythia, dogwoods, and magnolias had bloomed!  Could it be?  Had the April showers that didn’t respect the calendar finally give way to the May flowers?  I was so delighted I decided to leave work early and speed home.  I was hoping to meet Lo just as she arrived from her job so we could take a walk together and enjoy this miraculous occurrence.

I got home, not expecting anyone to be there yet.  I made for the bedroom to change out of my suit and tie and put on comfortable walking pants and sneakers.  I opened the bedroom door, only to shock both myself and Lo who was lying on the bed, pants around her ankles, knees up, giant dildo between her legs held by one hand, her phone held in the other hand as she intently stared at the screen and let out a scream.  It was a bit ambiguous, for her scream began as a scream of surprise at my unexpected arrival, but morphed into a scream of climax as she pulled the dildo out of her puss and squirted on the bed, her knees shaking, her tum writhing.

Holding the dildo in her hand victoriously, she smiled at me and said, “Welcome home Daddio!”

“Hi,” I said, confused.  “You’re home early.”

“So are you,” she retorted.

“I thought I’d meet you at home when you got here so we could go for a walk.  It’s so nice out.”

“Fuck me.”

“What about the walk?”

“Fuck me first.  I’m all ready for you.”

I removed my clothes and stood in front of her by the foot of the bed.

“You know, Daddy, that the blinds are open and the windows are open,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“So the neighbors can see you.”

“Do you want me to shut the blinds?”

“No, I’m just pointing out that you’re blocking their view of me.”

“Oh,” I said, a bit confused.  “Would you like to ride me reverse cowboy so they have a better angle.”

“Yes.  Then I can see them too.”

I got on the bed, lying on my back, and Lo slid her dripping snatch down on my pole.  I could see her sexy ass and back from my vantage point.  I saw one hand reach for her tits and the other reach for her phone.

“What were you looking at?”

“When?” she asked, not really thinking about my question.

“When you were jillin’ it.  When do you think?”

“Nothing Daddy.”

“Don’t tell me nothing,” I said as she bounced up and down.  “What are you looking at now?”

“Nothing Daddy.”

“Lo, I’ll put an end to this little romp right now if you don’t tell me.”

“Fine, but you’ll laugh.”

“Laugh?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Here, Daddy, I’ll show you.  Slide up.”

We maneuvered on the bed from the reverse cowboy position to doggy-style.  She was on her knees and elbows as I was riding behind her.  She held up the screen of the phone so I could see.  I didn’t have my glasses on, so it was a bit blurry.

“What is that?”

“That’s a penis, if you can believe it.”

“It is?”

“Yeah.  I told you you’d laugh.  It’s so small and tiny it’s hardly recognizable.”

“That’s what got you off?”

“I’m sorry Daddy,” she said.

“You don’t have to apologize.  I’m just confused.”

“Can you fuck me a little harder?” she asked.  In my puzzlement, I had sort of forgot what I was doing for her.  I thrusted with more vigor.

“Why were you looking at that?”

“It’s a fan, Daddy.  He has a little member.  He can only masturbate with his thumb and index finger.  And he cums within seconds.”

“I thought you liked monster cocks!”

“Oh, I do!” she said, “But I also like thinking about the novelty of this.  Could you imagine if he put that in my mouth while you were fucking me like this?  How easy it would be to tease and lick, suck and take in my mouth.  I could take his cock and balls easy!”

Now she was cumming and cumming hard.  When she cums like that, her powerful convulsions are so strong that she shoots me right out despite my best efforts to stay in.  That’s what happened this time.  I was so turned on that I grabbed my cock and was ready to blow.  She knew it and she swung around and opened her mouth and put out her tongue as if to say, “Fire at will!”  I did and it went everywhere.  She was covered.

She sat back and blindly reached out her hands for a towel.  When I recovered my composure, I got it for her.  She wiped herself off and said, “Thank you, Daddy.  I’m so glad you can always give me what I want.”

“Not always,” I remarked.

“Well, you always let me have what I want.”

“That’s true.”

She went to the bathroom and cleaned off and when she returned, I asked, “How about that walk?”

“Can we fuck just once more?”

“Lo, I’m down for the count,” I said, looking at my limp, long pleasure part.

“Fine,” she said.  “You get ready, I’ll be right out.”

I put on some comfortable clothes and went outside and sat in the lawn chair next to the house.  The beautiful day had enticed the neighbors to come outside and clip some hedges.  As I sat there, we all could hear Lola’s screams from inside the bedroom window.

“OH!  FUCK!  OH!  Fuck fuck fuck!”

I smiled nervously at the neighbors and waved and said, “She must have stubbed her toe.”

Mercifully, Lo’s howls were brief and when she came outside wearing her slutty shorts, I could see the neighbors’ judgments as if they were in thought-bubbles above their heads.  Both Lo and I received their condemnation as a compliment.

We started on our walk and about two blocks down the street Lo stopped.  She looked up at me, motionless for a moment.  Her knees were pressed up against each other as she held onto my arm for support.

“Lo, are you ok?” I asked.

She raised her index finger so as to say, “Give me one second.”

I waited.

“We have to turn back,” she said.

“Why?  What’s wrong?”  I was very worried.

“I just squirted, again.”

She turned around and, walking up the hill, I could see her blue-jean cutoffs were soaked in the crotch and it was dripping down her inner thigh.

We scampered home and waved at the neighbors nervously as we slipped in the front door.

So much for the end of April showers.

 

Sexy Shorts: Thirty Seconds of Pure Magic

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

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]

Sexy Shorts: Letter to the Editor (A Masturbation Monday Post)

 

Letter to the Editor

 

 

A thirty-something guy wrote to Lola saying, “H.H.’s writing about you is so amazing.  Do you read it much?”

Lola told him, “H.H. reads every story to me in bed before they are published.  I masturbate to them and edit them at the same time.”

He said, “That’s an amazing talent!  Multitasking.  It must make finishing the stories pretty hard.”

“I like making things hard.”

“It’s great to like what you’re good at.”

He then sent a number of photos of himself wanking to Lola’s pics.

Sexy Shorts: The Raunchy Game

 

 

The Raunchy Game

hitachi3

 

 

“I have an idea for a game I’d like to play,” I whispered to her as she lay next to me on her back, her legs spread and her Hitachi buzzing between them.

“What’s that?” she asked, opening her eyes for just a moment.

“I’ll tell you if you put that Magic Wand down and let me get between your legs.”

“Um. . . just a minute,” she said, clicking it into ‘hi-gear.’  Seconds later she was convulsing, clutching the sheets with a clenched hand as she struggled to hold the giant vibrating mechanism on her clit.  Her jaw dropped and her breasts heaved with her gasps for air.  After a minute, she clicked off the Hitachi, put it on the bed next to her and said, “OK, you’re turn.  You can fuck me now.”

I climbed on top and was poised to penetrate her, but she said, “Wait, one sec.”  She spread her legs and her right hand began slapping and diddling her pussy for a few faps and then she squirted a steady, high-pressure stream right onto my cock.  I was impressed by her laser-like aim.

“Now?” I asked.

“Yes, now,” she said.

I slid right in and grasped her with my arms, putting my head down over her shoulder so my words were whispered right into her ear.  As I slowly and lovingly slid in and out of her, I said, “The idea for my game is. . .”

“Get up there,” she interrupted, “and fuck me hard and fast!”

I was taken aback a bit, but I followed instructions.  I got up on my knees, grabbed her ankles above my head, and began pounding away at her with my spear.

“My idea” I said in a much louder voice, “is called ‘The Raunchy Game’ and it’s played by each of us taking turns saying something raunchy to the other.  The other person can say Red, Yellow, or Green to the first statement.  Red means, ‘No way.  Stop right there.  Not a turn-on.’  ‘Yellow means, ‘You’re approaching my limits, but keep going.  Let’s see where this leads.’  And Green means, ‘I like that.  More please.’”

“Ah ha,” she said, followed by, “Harder.  Deeper.”

She was just looking to get off and so I gave up on my game for the moment.  I pounded her with all I had until she finally was cumming.  She yelled, “Deep.  Stay.  There.”  I lodged as far down her hole as I could plunge.  I held it there, but felt the walls of her inner thighs closing in on my instrument.  Tighter and tighter they pressed until, despite my best efforts, they squeezed me right out of her.  Upon my involuntary departure, she convulsed again and tightened up into a self-contained ball as she emitted a ray of ejaculate once more.

When she was done, she looked up and said, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s ok.”

“I’m better now.  Do you want to play that game?” she asked as she spread her legs again.

I repeated my actions of before, sliding into her slowly and descending to hold her.  I was in a loving mood, not so much a fucking mood.  I whispered in her ear again and said, “You go first.”

“Daddy, you know all of my raunchy fantasies already.”

“Just say something that you think I will find beyond the pale.”

“You first,” she said.

“OK, but before we begin, tell me what you were thinking about when you were masturbating just now.”

“You.”

“I know that’s not true.  Tell me the truth.”

“No really, you.”

“Lo,” I said in my paternal way.

“OK, I was thinking of. . . it’s bad.”

“You see, this is exactly how we play the game.  What was it?”

“I was thinking about Brian from work again.”

“Green.”

“I was thinking about how hard-up he is since he and his girlfriend broke up.”

“They broke up?”

“Yes.  Didn’t I tell you?”

“No.”

“They broke up a while ago and he’s been visiting my office more and more frequently since then.”

“I bet you like that,” I said and I could feel her pussy clench upon my cock.  “So what exactly were you thinking about?”

“I was thinking about how I want him to lift up my skirt, bend me over my own desk in my own office, with the door open and the blinds on the windows wide open, and spank me.”

“Green.”

“I want him to spank me for being such a tease to him.”

“You’ve been a tease?”

She ignored the question.

“Then I want him to fuck me for all to see.”

I had to pull out.  I grabbed my cock and shot spurts of cum all over her torso from her shoulder blades down to her clit.

“Nooooo!” she called, disappointed that I wouldn’t last to give her yet another orgasm.

As I was cleaning her up, she said, “Daddy, you didn’t even get to use your yellow card.”

“I know,” I said, very disappointed with myself.

“And I didn’t get to come a third time.”

Lately three has been the magic number for her.  Without that third, earth-shattering orgasm, she feels sexually frustrated.  “Blue-balls,” as she puts it.

I was back in bed, under the covers, drifting off to sleep and I could feel the bed vibrating as if it were one of those coin-operated beds in a cheap motel.  I opened up one eye and saw her, on her side, her back to me, the blue glow of her phone illuminating the otherwise black room.  I waited.  And waited.  And waited.  After about half an hour, she finally coaxed out that last, hidden, cap-stone orgasm out of deep within her.

“Lo,” I said.

“Yes?”

“What were you looking at?”

“Just porn.”

“Tell me what it was.”

“It was bad.”

“What was it?”

“I was looking at Brian’s photos.”

Silence and then, “Are you mad, Daddy?”

I didn’t respond.  I went to sleep and had many strange dreams.

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