I was asleep when she walked in the dark bedroom. Nights like this, when she spends the night out with friends or lovers, it isn’t quite sleep. It’s more of a restful repose, just barely below the surface of consciousness. When I heard the bedroom door open, I was instantly awake, but I didn’t dare open my eyes or stir. I like to spy on her from the darkness. With one eye open, I saw her remove her blue dress. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She had been wearing a bra when she left the house. She wasn’t wearing panties when she left, so it was no surprise that she wasn’t wearing panties now. She slipped out of her heels and walked barefoot and bare assed into the bathroom. She turned the light on. She sat, peed, got up, brushed her teeth, and then slid under the covers next to me.
“I know you’re awake,” she whispered.
“Now I am,” I said.
“And I know you’ve been a bad boy,” she said, reaching down to my crotch and grabbing my hard cock.
“Look at you – kitten calling the cock back.”
She chuckled and said, “The expression is the kettle calling the pot black.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You left your vagina in the bathroom,” she said, disapprovingly, speaking of my Stoya Fleshlight.
“It needs to air dry. That’s what it says in the instructions.”
“So you used it?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Unlike Stoya, I don’t air dry. I’m always wet. Very wet.”
Stoya, Stoya’s Fleshlight, Art of Lola Down
“And full of Robert’s cum?”
“Get in me and find out.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” I said.
I climbed on top of her and spread her legs. I slid in and sloshed about. She moaned.
“Tell me,” I whispered in her ear.
“Am I wet?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Loose?”
“Very.”
She likes to hear how slippery and slutty she feels to me.
“Good,” she cooed in my ear.
“Tell me, what happened.” I was eager.
“You first,” she said.
“What? Why?”
“Because, if I tell you, you’ll cum and I want to hear about your night before you cum.”
She had a point. Well, she had two points if you include what I was giving her below the sheets.
“Well, I began by looking at the blog of TJ like you suggested.”
“Yes.”
“She’s so like you, it’s uncanny.”
“I know.”
“But that just made me want you.”
“Good.”
“And as I was thinking about you with Robert, I took out the Stoya Fleshlight and went through your photos. I looked at all the cumtributes you get from guys. I looked at the pics you sent to Robert and others. And then I came. I came hard.”
“Well, Daddy,” she began, knowing how to butter me up, “we met for drinks. He thought I looked great. I know I looked great because Robert wasn’t the only one staring at me.”
Just the thought of her walking into the bar was enough to put me over the edge. I had to slow down while she continued talking.
“We had a couple of drinks,” she said in her soft voice directly into my ear, “and then went to the theater. It had the big, leather, recliner chairs. But those aren’t great for romance. There’s the big, bulky armrest in separating you. We were sitting in the very last row and I put my seat way back. When the movie came on, I let the hem of my dress slide up and up and up.”
“Was he touching your knee?”
“He couldn’t reach. But he could see. It was an odd movie, but there were a few sexy scenes in it. And Emma Stone. . .” She trailed off as she came again.
Catching her breath she said, “Get behind me,” as she pulled out her phone to look at sexy pics of Emma Stone.
I got behind her and glanced over her shoulder at her phone. “Get back there and fuck me like you fucked Stoya!” she commanded.
I grabbed her hips and pulled her ass back as I thrust forward, deep into her. I could feel the tip of my cock dipping into her deep well where someone else had already cum and gone.
Emma Stone The Favourite
“I just touched myself during the sex scenes,” she said in between gasps. “He watched me. He wanted me. His right hand held my left and I squeezed hard every time my right hand brought me to an orgasm.”
She came as she recalled her climaxes in the theater.
“At a more boring point in the movie I got on my knees in front of him and pulled out his cock. I put it in my mouth and went to town on it.”
Luckily for her and for me, I had cum earlier in the night and so was able to weather this blow-by-blow account.
“He didn’t cum, which disappointed me. You know how I like to feel successful at everything I do. I think he was nervous we’d get caught. He lifted me up and tried to place me back in my seat, but I simply lifted up my tight blue dress and eased my ass down on his hard rod. Sitting on his lap, like a stripper in the club, I slowly slid back-and-forth. He came deep inside me. That was just before the movie ended and as we walked out, I could feel his cum oozing down the inside of my legs.”
That was all I could take. I exploded deep inside her, adding to her collection for the evening.
“That’s it, Daddio,” she said as I reached under her and slid my arms up to her breasts and held her tightly. “Use me. Make me yours again. Fill me up. Make me your cum-bucket.” I collapsed on top of her and held her in my arms while imaginings of her night flickered through my rapidly darkening mind.
“Come,”
I heard her yell from the bedroom down the hall as I walked into the house
after a long Friday at work. She might
have been saying “Cum!” to a lover.
There’s never any way to tell from the sound of her voice – only on the
page.
I
cautiously walked down the long hall to the bedroom. What would I find?
The
door was open a crack. I peeked in. She was naked, on her tum, her round rump
nicely illuminated by the setting sun.
Her legs were bent at the knees and her bare feet dangled up in the air,
twined around each other. In her hand
she held her phone.
“Come
in, Daddio,” she said without turning her eyes from the screen in front of
her.
I
walked in and removed my jacket and tie.
“What
you up to?” I inquired.
“I
bet you’d like to know.”
“That
is why I asked,” I said flatly as I removed my shirt and undid my belt.
“Get
naked, get hard, and get in me,” she commanded.
“I’m
already hard,” I said.
“As
you should be,” she replied, moving her hand to her mouth, licking her fingers
and then moving her hand to her ass and circling her wet fingers around her
special spot.
“Oh,”
I commented, “You want it like that?”
“No,
Daddio,” she said, “I’m just enjoying myself.”
Always
coy when it comes to her ass. Always for
someone else, or for her own pleasure, but never for me.
I
got behind her and tried to look at her phone by leaning forward over her back
and seeing over her shoulder.
“Get
up there and fuck me,” she instructed, her finger still rounding her sweet spot
as I slid into her puss. “I’ll tell you
what I’m looking at.”
I
did as she said and she told me that a fellow blogger, a woman named TJ, wrote
to us saying, “I love reading your blog.
It gets me so wet.”
“Really?! Do I know this TJ?” I asked as I thrusted
harder.
I
slowed down a bit trying to remember which erotic blog that was.
“Don’t
stop!” Lo said as her hand grabbed the girth of my cock and she pushed her ass
back into my hips, bouncing off of my bare bodkin.
I
resumed my powerful, pleasurable, pelvic pounding.
“Look,”
she said, putting her phone up on her back for me to read the email. It said:
I love how
accepting you are of Lola’s magnificent sexuality. You guys seem to have ‘it’
don’t you? I wish I could masturbate as openly as you do, Lola. I feel
self-conscious, like an addict or something. But I fucking love fucking myself.
. . it’s the best. I am more autosexual than anything else I think. Keep
celebrating each other.
Fan mail like that makes it all
worth it. Well, that’s not completely
true. I know that I would be writing all
this whether no one read it, or only one person read it – Lola. But knowing that others read it, enjoy it,
and get off to it is the icing on the cake.
Speaking
of icing, as I read the email, Lo began to climax as one hand worked her ass
and the other, from underneath, worked her clit. Her Kegel muscles contracted and I was
squeezed out of her as she curled into a convulsing, throbbing ball, squirting
uncontrollably. The more she pushed her
knees up to her breasts in a tightly bound fetal position, the more she sprayed
the bed and my knees. I lifted up her
phone to prevent it from being ruined by the liquid.
TJ, author and model of The Lustful Empress, getting off to Lo
“Fuuuu-uuuuck,”
she groaned as the last bit of lady juice spurted out of her.
When
she regained control of her limbs, she slowly got up and pulled the soaked
sheets with her, dropping them in the laundry basket. “I’ll clean up, Daddy, but right now I have
to get ready.”
“Ready
for what?” I asked, holding my throbbing, hard rod in my hand.
“My
date.”
“Date?”
“With
Robert. I told you, didn’t I?”
I
just looked dumbfounded.
“We’re
going to the movies.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“And
what are you seeing?”
“The Favourite.”
“Is
he your favorite now?” I asked, demoralized.
“No,
Daddio, she said, caressing me and looking up at me with those beautiful big
brown eyes. “That’s the name of the
movie. It’s a period piece.”
“Really? Not a porno?”
“Well,
I hear it has a lot of woman-on-woman sex scenes.”
“I
knew it!”
“But
that’s not why we’re going to see it.”
“You’re
going to see it to have sex in a crowded theater.”
“Oh,
Daddy, you always impute to me the most debased of motives.”
“So
why are you going to see it?”
“It’s
historical. It has great sets, acting,
and costumes.”
“And?”
“And
probably to fuck in a dark theater.”
“Don’t
get caught.”
“But
getting caught is at least half the fun.
Does that make you jealous?” she asked, as her hand stroked my hard
cock.
“So
you’re leaving me home alone on a Friday night?”
“Not
totally alone,” she said, “You have TJ.”
“Who?”
“TJ,
the woman from the blog.”
“Oh,
right,” I said to my consolation prize.
Lola
made the bed and I watched her tits droop as she bent over to tuck in the
sheets. Her naked body moved like a
delightful dance as she unfurled the blanket.
“Look,”
she said, as she hopped back in the bed and took up her phone. I sat next to her. Her left hand stroked my hard erection up and
down as she scrolled through TJ’s blog with her right hand.
We
read and looked at the photos together.
Lola
TJ of The Lustful Empress
“She
sounds like she could be your twin sister,” I said as I read about how TJ
becomes aroused by her own naked body.
“Hold
this,” she said, giving me the phone.
Now,
with her right hand she was stroking her pussy and I scrolled through the
blog.
“Oh
boy,” I said, “You want her.”
Lo
bit her lower lip.
“Lo,”
I cautioned, “You just made the bed. You
don’t want to. . .”
Before
I could finish my sentence, she had jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom,
barely making it to the toilet before releasing her ejaculate all over the tile
floor with a scream.
When
she had regained her composure, she got some paper towels and got on her hands
and knees to clean up the mess.
“What
time is your movie?”
“Eight,”
she called back. “But we’re meeting for
drinks first.”
“Well,
you’re going to be late,” I told her.
She
jumped in the shower and I continued to look at the blog, hard up.
“Hey,”
she called to me, “you’re not allowed to cum.
You know that, right?”
“I
still don’t understand how that is fair,” I said, taunting her.
I
got up and looked at her in the shower.
“Get!”
she screamed. She hates when I see her
in her shower cap.
“How
is it fair that you get to cum twice and then go on a date with another man and
I’m not allowed any autoerotica myself?”
“First,”
she said from behind the shower curtain, “it’s not autoerotic if you use
someone else’s pictures. Second, you
didn’t count the three times I came before you got home.”
“Lo,
now you’re just. . .”
“And
third,” she cut me off, “this has nothing to do with fairness. It has everything to do with me.
What I want. What I allow
you. Got that? Don’t forget it.”
Lo
jumped out of the shower and hastily dried off before slipping into a blue
dress and blue heels. No panties.
“You’re
going to be cold like that,” I cautioned.
“I’m
planning on things heating up quickly,” she said.
Soon
enough she was out the door, leaving me alone.
I
scrolled through TJ’s blog, which I recalled I had seen before, and I thought
to myself, “She said no cumming, but she didn’t say no edging.”
I
spent about an hour going through each and every post before I thought to
myself, “If I don’t stop this right now, I’m going to explode!”
Stoya Left, Lola Right
In
order to take the edge off, I switched to photos of Lo, which are always fair
game, and I pulled out the old Stoya Fleshlight. Lubing up Stoya and myself, I imagined what
Lo was up to with Robert. I didn’t even
need to see Lo’s photos. Soon enough I was
cumming and cumming hard and deep in Stoya’s pussy, just thinking about Lo in a
dark theater, legs spread, and Robert discretely moving his hand up her smooth
thigh until reaching that wet pussy, pulsating with anticipation. Gently he would rub and flick her pussy lips,
clandestinely making her cum. I pictured
her hands gripping the seat and her upper teeth biting down on her bottom lip
to prevent the scream from escaping her mouth.
That was enough to bring me over the edge and release me into a deep
sleep.
Lo’s
trysts with Robert continued on a fairly regular basis. He’d text.
She’d encourage him to come. He
would. But as his drop-ins became more
frequent, the novelty of it began to wear off for Lo, and perhaps for Robert as
well. And so they would engage in
different, ever more elaborate conceits to involve me in their affair. I shall mention just a few of them here.
Though
I sat merely yards away from where they were going at it in the bedroom, one
time Lo called me on her phone from there to the living room. I could practically hear her talking, even
without the use of the phone, yet she spoke to me as if I was far off in
another town.
“Daddy,
do you want to know what Robert is doing to me now?”
“What’s
he doing, Lo?” I asked, nonchalantly.
“He’s
behind me, fucking me doggy-style. His
cock is so long, it’s hitting my spot perfectly,” she said, following it up
with a long moan that I could hear perfectly in the living room.
Another
time, as they were going at it in the bedroom, Lo took a selfie. She was doggie-style, he behind her. She made a big ‘O’ with her mouth as if she
were in ecstasy. She texted the photo to
me.
A
different night, after I showed Robert into the bedroom and I was about to turn
to leave, Lo stopped me. She was naked
under the sheets. Robert was fully
dressed and anxious. Lo said, “Wait,
Daddio.”
“Yes,”
I asked, like a dutiful servant in a nineteenth century English manor
house.
“Tonight
I’m going to give Robert my ass,” she said.
“And?”
I asked politely.
She
fumbled in the nightstand drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube. “Will you grease me up?” she asked, pulling
down the sheets, turning over, protruding her ass in the air and pointing to
her special spot.
Devotedly,
I took the lube and covered my index finger with it and proceeded to spread it
all around her target as she moaned and wiggled her ass. I then inserted my finger in and out as
Robert looked on. “Like this, Lo?” I
asked.
Right there!
“MmmmmHmmmm,”
she said, “More.”
I
continued. She orgasmed, collapsing into
the bed.
“That
will be all,” she said dismissively.
“Robert, I’m ready for you.” And
she slid on her tum so that her legs were spread on the floor and she was bent
over at a ninety-degree angle on the bed.
I saw Robert unbuckle his belt and undo his pants as I slowly closed the
door. I heard Lo moan as he entered her
and I walked down the hall.
“Daddio,”
I heard her call once more, just as I got to the living room.
I
returned and knocked on the door.
“Come
in,” said Lo, struggling to speak.
I
entered the room. Robert had already
entered her. Lo looked up at me.
“Daddio,”
she said.
“Yes?”
“Do
you want to fuck Stoya while Robert fucks my ass?”
“If
that gives you pleasure,” I said.
“Where
is it?”
“She’s
in the closet.”
“She?!”
she said, “Now it has a gender?!”
“She’s
a vagina. Of course she has a
gender. She goes by the pronouns: She,
Her, Hers.”
“It
is just a vagina.”
“I
don’t reduce women to only their genitalia,” I said, aware of the irony of my
statement.
“Well,
grab your vagina and pull out your cock,” she said.
I
got my Stoya Fleshlight and unzipped my pants.
Lo applied the lube to my cock and then held Stoya in her hands as I
penetrated her (that is, Stoya’s) vagina.
Stoya & Stoya’s Fleshlight
“That’s
it, Daddio. You fuck Stoya while Robert
fucks my ass,” she said with clear delight.
She shut her eyes and enjoyed the ride.
In a remarkable chain reaction, Lo began to cum and then both Robert and
I came, making for a splendid triple play.
“This is for you, Daddy”
These
odd requests and variations were the exception, however, not the norm. The norm was a five or ten minute shag, one
orgasm achieved by each party, and then on went the clothes and out the door
went Robert.
One
night Lo had already said yes to Robert’s request to come over, but as he was
on his way, she remembered that she was supposed to make a call overseas for
work. She was planning a major event and
had invited some big name people to join.
She had to make the call and it wouldn’t be a short conversation.
Lo
was already on the phone with her connection abroad when Robert arrived. I explained to Robert the mix-up when he
walked in and he asked, “Should I wait?” looking uncomfortable about the
prospect, and also a bit disappointed and a tad upset. Spoiled man.
“No,”
I said in reply. “Lola said you could
quietly sneak in.”
Sneak
into what? The bedroom? Her snatch?
Both apparently.
Lo
was naked, standing up, bent over a desk, one hand holding the phone and the
other a pen as she took notes. She used
the pen to point to her ass and indicated where she wanted Robert. She then put the pen perpendicularly over her
lips to indicate, “Shhhhhh.” Robert
didn’t even fully undress. He just
pulled out his rod and mounted her, slowly and easily. She continued her conversation as if nothing
was happening behind her. He slid in and
out, using her wet snatch for his pleasure until he finally came deep inside
her. He put his pud back in his pants,
zipped up, washed off, and blew a kiss goodbye to Lo as she continued to take
notes, cum dripping down her inner thigh.
After I saw Robert out, I got a warm washcloth to clean her off. When she was finally done with her business
call, she joined me in the bed.
Thanks Robert
“Did
you enjoy that?” I asked.
“Enjoy
it?” she asked back, surprised. “I
didn’t even notice. I was too focused on
the phone call.”
I get in bed. I think Lo’s asleep, but she isn’t. She unbuttons my pj bottoms and pulls out my
cock and grips it tightly with one hand.
Her other hand is between her legs.
She begins stroking my rod up and down.
She spreads her legs and moans. I
begin to maneuver myself over her body in order to penetrate her, but she says,
“No, Daddy.”
“No?”
“No. Just lie on your back.”
“But,
don’t you want me?”
“I
want dick. I want to hold it. Just stay just like that,” she says. I give in to her request to lie on my back as
she grasps my member with her left hand while stroking herself with her
right. Her eyes remain closed. Her breathing accelerates. Her breasts heave. After ten minutes or so, she begins
convulsing. She lets go of my phallus
and grabs the sheets beneath her with her left hand as her right hand is
plunging in-and-out of her gushing pussy.
She moans, screams, and cums in waves.
After
she has a moment to catch her breath, I ask her, “What were you imagining?”
“It’s
bad, Daddy.”
“I
like bad.”
“I
was envisioning us,” she says enigmatically.
“Us
how?”
“I imagined that we were going to the Erotica convention and that we were headlining for a reading ofMatch, Cinder & Spark. It was at a dingy theater in a foreign town. Up on the marquee it read, in big red letters, ‘LOLA DOWN READS XXX.’ We were backstage. I had you peek out from the wings at the audience. It was slowly growing in number – men and women. Finally, about five minutes after the show was supposed to start, the host or MC for the evening took the stage and announced the rules, ‘No photography! No recording! Yes, masturbating, as long as you don’t make a mess of the seats. Please turn off your cell phones and give a warm, wet welcome for Lola Down and H.H.!’ The place erupted with applause. You and I walked out onto the stage. There was only a rectangular table and two chairs. On the rectangular table was a microphone and a tall glass of water and a pitcher of water. We bowed and sat in the chairs. I opened Match to one of my favorite passages and began reading. I was wearing only a sexy red dress with strappy heels. No panties. No bra. I began with my legs crossed. I continued reading and I uncrossed my legs. I gave the audience a quick flash of my puss. I continued reading. I spread my legs again. I dropped one hand down to my crotch and began masturbating. With the other hand, I held yours. I paused for a moment. I took a sip of water and looked out into the audience and said in a breathy voice, ‘It’s getting hot in here.’ You lovingly pulled the shoulder straps of my dress off of my shoulders and I pulled my arms through them. I continued reading. You slowly pulled down my red dress to reveal my breasts. I continued touching my puss as I wiggled and wriggled out of the dress until it lay on the floor at my feet. Finally I was naked and I continued reading the passage but, at a certain part I stopped. I was beginning to climax. You took over. At the sound of your voice I came and I came hard – screaming and squirting. You finally finished the passage. You invited people up to the stage to have their copies of Match signed by the two of us. As each person came up, they stopped before me with the book open to the page they wanted signed. Usually it’s opened to a full color picture of me doing something naughty. Some of the men asked if they can masturbate to me. ‘Now?’ I asked. ‘Yes,’ they said, politely. I agreed. They pulled out their cocks and they began jackin’ it over me as I sat naked in the chair. You sat and watched. They came. They came on my body, on my face, in my mouth, in my hair, everywhere until I was cum-covered. After everyone got what they wanted, you took me backstage. There, some women who were part of the convention were waiting and they got clothes and a bucket of warm water and they cleaned me off. ‘Was I good, Daddy?’ I asked you as they were tending to me. ‘You were wonderful,’ you said.”
This
text exchange between Lo and Robert became a regular thing. It started off as a once a month request and
then it increased to two or three times a month, then once a week, until now it
was two to three times a week. Robert
would text. Lo would shower and get
naked. I would greet him at the door
with a formal hello – far less friendly, unfortunately, than we had been prior
to his accessing Lo for his personal outlet for relief. I would show him to the bedroom, and, depending
on my mood, close the door behind me once he had entered, or leave it
ajar. I’d sit in the living room and
await the sound of his footsteps down the hall, then show him the door before
taking my place back beside Lo’s naked and used body. She’d show me her cream-filled puss or the
condom on the nightstand before having me enter her and telling me the brief
tale of her encounter. At first there
was some variation to the exchange. He
would do her doggy-style; he would ask to have her ass; he would jack-off over
her and cum on her tits or her face.
Even then the meet-ups were fast – no longer than fifteen or twenty
minutes tops! Luckily Lo can almost
always cum within seconds, not minutes.
But
eventually it because routine. He would
get to the house, enter her doggy-style, cum within five or ten minutes, and
leave. Once, after one of these sloppy,
speedy summits, Lo asked Robert, “Why don’t you just jack it at home instead of
driving all the way here?”
He
seemed perplexed by the question. As he
cleaned himself off, he said, “I do jack it at home. Always to pictures of you or you and HH. But I enjoy the anticipation in the car on
the way here and the pleasant recollection on the way home.” That was complimentary enough to Lo to quell
her curiosity.
Then,
one evening when Robert was paying a visit to Lo in the bedroom, I received a
text from Lo as I sat in the living room.
It simply read, “Come.” I’m used
to those texts in the morning, but not when she has a gentleman caller between
her widely spread legs.
I
got up and walked to the bedroom. I
found her on her back, Robert on top of her, filling her need for
attention. She looked over at me and
said, “Daddio, will you please get me a tall glass of water with ice? Tonight he’s going at it like never before
and I’ve worked up a sweat.”
I
retreated from the bedroom and got the glass of ice water. I returned, cup in hand, like a waiter or
servant and, as Robert continued to bang her, I carefully handed it to
her. She smiled as she drained the glass
and handed it back to me. “Thanks
Daddio,” she said as her arms embraced Robert tightly and she began to call
out, “Fuck me! Give it to me. More.
Fuck me harder!”
Late
one night, Lo got a text from Robert.
“Can I come over?” it read.
We
were in bed. I was reading. She was looking at who-knows-what on her
phone. She showed me the text.
“It’s
rather late, is it not? What’s he want?”
“Do
you want me to find out?”
“Sure.”
“Cum
over whom?” she texted back.
“Ha
ha,” he wrote. “You read my mind.”
“You’re
hard up and you just want to come here and use me?” she texted back.
There
was no response for a while, just ellipses displayed on the phone screen as if
he was texting and then deleting his text, not sure what to say. Lo texted him, “Is that it?”
Finally
he responded with, “Well. . .”
“Then
say it,” she demanded.”
“I’m
hard up and I want to come over and use your sweet body,” he texted.
She
was fingering herself now. Lo loves to
be longed for. “Good boy,” she
wrote. “HH is here.”
“Is
it ok with him?” he asked.
“Is
it ok with you?” Lo asked me.
“If
you want to,” I said, “then I’m fine with it.”
“Drive
fast,” she wrote to Robert.
She
reached under the bed and pulled out her double-ended dildo. She began plunging away.
“Lo,
you wouldn’t rather I do that?” I asked.
“OK,
here,” she said, getting on all fours and turning her ass toward me so I could
grab the dildo and use it on her.
“I
meant, wouldn’t you rather that I
fuck you?” I asked, taking the end of the dildo in hand and pushing in, pulling
out.
“Oh,”
she said. “I hadn’t thought of
that. Actually, I’d prefer this because
I’m saving myself for Robert.”
I
had to laugh. “Saving yourself?”
“Yeah. And saving you. You are not to cum until I give you explicit
permission.”
“Ah,
Lo, my slut and savior.”
She
came.
She
squirted all over the bedsheets.
“Fuck!”
she exclaimed, half in anger and half in ecstasy. “Now I have to strip.”
“You’re
already naked.”
“Strip
the bed.”
She
got up, and hurriedly pulled everything off the bed and then made it again with
fresh linens.
The
doorbell rang.
“Don’t
worry, Lo,” I said, “I’ll get it.”
She
wasn’t worried. She was lying in the newly
made bed and using her phone camera as a mirror, looking at herself. “You’ll show him in, won’t you?” she said in
a faux high-class 1940’s era movie accent.
“Yes,
madam,” I replied, like her butler, as I left the room.
At
the door I said, “Robert, so good to see you,” as I extended my hand to shake
his. “You must be here to see Lo. Please, follow me.” I led him down the hallway to the master
bedroom. “Right this way. She is expecting you.”
Robert,
embarrassed, didn’t even say anything.
He just had a sheepish smile on his face. He knew what he was there for. I knew what he was there for. And he knew that I knew what he was there
for.
As
I opened the door to the bedroom, I saw Lo in the bed under the covers, but
with her breasts exposed. Though the
covers were over her, I could see that her legs were spread and her hands
between them. “Thank you HH,” she said,
dismissively.
“Ready Daddy”
Robert
walked into the bedroom like a boss. I
walked away. When I got to the living
room, I saw that Lo had snapped a photo of herself and sent it to me. It was a sexy tease.
From
the living room I could hear the rhythmic sound of the bed moving, Lo moaning
and then calling out, “Yes, yes, yes, fuck, yes, harder, yes!”
A
few moments later I heard her saying her familiar refrain, “I’m cumming. Fuck, I’m cumming.”
Minutes
after that, I heard the bedroom door open and saw Robert walk down the
hallway. I stood up. I met him at the front door. He didn’t know what to say.
“Care
for a drink?” I asked.
“No
thank you, HH,” he said politely.
“Well,
come again,” I said as I opened the door.
He
walked out. I walked to the
bedroom. Lo was now lying on the bed,
completely naked, the blankets strewn about, her legs spread and her hands
cupped over her cunt.
“Come,
Daddy,” she said. “Hurry.”
I
got naked and was between her legs looking down at her. She pulled her hand away and I saw her oozing
with Robert’s cum. “Get in me,” she
commanded.
I
obeyed.
“That
was fast,” I remarked.
“Fast,
hard, and soooo good,” she said.
“You
liked it?”
“I
loved it.”
“What
about his, you know, his problem?”
“He
had no problem tonight.”
“Lucky
you.”
“Yeah,
he told me that knowing you were in the next room and that you could hear it
all excited him. He really liked that.”
“Glad
I could be of help,” I said.
“Do
you like putting your cock into the puddle he made in me?”
“Yes.”
“Do
you like that I’m such a dirty little whore?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like when my cunt is filled
with cum from your friends, Daddy?”
“Mmmmm,”
was all I could say as dipped my stick deep into her wet, warm, and worn puss.
“Do
you. . .”
I
came, adding to her collection, before she could properly get through her cuck
catechism.
“Do
you. . .”
Filled and oozing
“I
love you, Lo,” was all I managed to say.
“Yeah,
well, I didn’t cum yet,” she said, upset.
“You
came with Robert and you came before Robert with your dildo.”
Friday and finally all my meetings were over. I flew home that night. I hadn’t heard from Lo since the previous night when she enigmatically told me that she had dinner with Robert. I was eager to see her. I was hard-up and aching for release. On top of that, there was the tantalizing mystery of what happened on her “date” with Robert. Just to make matters worse, fate so ordained it that on my flight home I was seated next to a young, attractive college girl wearing a tight fitting miniskirt and a low cut blouse. Her breasts were full and, when placing her carryon in the storage compartment above, she stretched and revealed a delectable midriff and even some under-boob. When we sat down, she saw that I was reading Fast Girl, the book by Suzy Favor Hamilton about her life as a high-end Vegas escort and her sex addiction.
Suzy Favor Hamilton
“What
is that?” she asked, naively, but with a hint of being in-the-know.
“It’s
a memoir,” I said tersely. Her interest
made me nervous. Her looks made me more
nervous. Her age made me simply
petrified – in every sense of the term.
“I
think I’ve heard of it. It’s about. . .”
her brow wrinkled with the struggle of recall.
“A
woman who leads a double-life as a devoted wife and mom and as a prostitute.”
“Oh,”
she said, shocked at my candor. She
quickly followed it up with a smile and, “Do you like it?”
Suzy Favor Hamilton
There
was a mischievousness to her question that indicated to me that she wanted to
know what turns me on.
“It’s
my homework,” I said, as if that negated any pleasure I may derive from it.
“Homework?”
she asked. “What class are you in?” She wanted to enroll.
“My
girlfriend assigned it to me. She said
it would help me understand her better. The last assignment was Getting Off, about a woman addicted to
self-pleasure through humiliation porn.”
“Girlfriend?”
she asked. “Aren’t you married?” she
inquired while indicating my wedding band.
Clearly she was interested in more than my reading material.
“Oh
that,” I said, “I wear it to keep the ladies away.” My standard line.
“Yeah
right,” she said. “Every guy knows that
nothing attracts single women like a man who’s spoken for.”
“You
got me there,” I said. She was
attracted. This would be a l-o-n-g
flight.
“I
wish,” she said under her breath. “So,
your girlfriend – or whatever – is addicted to porn?”
“I
don’t know that she’s addicted to porn.
She likes porn. But she
definitely is addicted to pleasure.”
“I
know the feeling,” she said.
“Is
that so?”
“Would
you like to know the feeling?”
“Look,”
I said, “what’s your name?”
“Kayla,”
she said. Of course her name was Kayla.
“Look
Kayla, I’m already involved with a nymphomaniac. It takes every ounce of my energy, focus,
concentration, devotion, love, and chi to satisfy her. . . and still I come up
short. I appreciate your interest. I really do, but I’m on my way back home to
see her, and, well, to be honest, the beautiful batting of your eyelashes is
very well and good, but I’ve got a perfect slut waiting for me at home.”
If
this attractive, flirty, young woman had been sitting next to me on the departure
flight, when I was more mad at Lo than missing her, things may have been
different. Even then, the fact is, no
matter how angry I am with her, I still love Lo. And I know, no matter how attractive other
women may be, the witty repartee that Lo and I have is inimitable.
I tried to make my
position clear. She accepted the
boundaries I had set. But she switched
gears and now asked me all about Lo. I
gladly told her. It was probably my best
in-flight conversation. By the time we
landed, despite our fight or because of it, I wanted Lo more than ever. (I gave Kayla the blog address, just so she could
see for herself how it’s done.)
I
got home and as soon as I walked in the door I knew I was in for trouble. Lo wasn’t talking to me except monosyllabic
words. “Hi.”
“How
are you?” I asked.
“Fine.”
You
get the gist. But she was dressed in a
pink sleeveless t-shirt and her black lace panties. That’s it.
She pranced around with her hard nipples poking through the front of her
shirt, her side-boobs bouncing and peeking out from the open underarms. She.
Looked. Good.
Surf’s Up
I
was hard.
I
wanted her.
I
needed her.
I
had no idea how to approach her.
So
I took the direct approach: “You wanna fuck?”
“Your
seduction technique is so subtle, yet captivating,” she said.
I
knew I was making good progress because captivating is four syllables.
“Yeah,”
I said, nonchalantly.
“Then
why are you still wearing your clothes?”
I
stripped and she pulled down her panties.
Her
pussy was smooth, shaven, pink and beautiful.
“What’s
the occasion?” I asked.
“This?”
she asked, stroking her lovely mons pubis.
“Yeah,”
I said, “that.” For a moment I was under
the impression that she was anticipating my return and that she had shaved for
me. She disabused me of that notion
right away.
“I
told you,” she said, “I was seeing Robert last night.”
We
were in the bed now. I was looking down
at her lovely body. “You did that for
Robert?”
“Semper
fi,” she said.
“Semper fi?” I asked,
perplexed.
“Yeah,”
she said, “Always prepared; the motto of the marines.”
“Semper
fi means ‘always faithful.’”
“Oh,”
she said. “Whoops!”
“You
can say that again. So, were you
faithful?”
“Fuck
me and I’ll tell you.”
I
was arched over her and I enjoyed looking at her beautiful body as her hand
guided my protruding member up and down her wet labia. “Come on, Daddy,” she said, “fuck me. You know you need it. Take it.”
I
penetrated her. From the feel of things,
she needed me as much as I needed her.
Once
I had fully engorged her, I asked, “So, what happened last night?”
She
was too busy enjoying my rod. She came
within seconds.
I
waited for her to catch her breath.
“Tell me,” I commanded.
“I
met him at his house,” she said in her breathy voice.
“What
were you wearing?”
“A
short skirt. My leather boots. A tight top.”
“Go
on.”
“I
met him there. He kissed me hello.”
“On
the lips?”
“Yes.”
“Mighty
forward of him.”
“I
made sure it was on the lips.”
“Oh.”
“We
talked a little and then he drove us to the restaurant. I think he liked being seen in there with
me. It looked like a first or second
date, I’m sure.”
“What
did you talk about?”
“Him,
mostly. His needs. His wants.
His desires.”
“Oh,
so you talked about you.”
“You
could say that.”
She
came again. Nothing excites her as much
as she.
“And
then?”
“We
went back to his place. He invited me
in. He offered me a drink. We sat on the couch. Before I finished my first drink, we were
making out. His hands were under my top,
feeling my breasts, pulling my nipples.”
Too
much! I came.
As
I pulled out of her and rolled on my back, she said, “Well, I guess you’ll have
to wait to hear how the night ended.”
“Uh-uh,”
I said, “You’re going to finish this slut-saga tonight.
“Only
if you’ll fuck me again.”
“Start
talking. You know what your words do to
me.”
She
moved closer to me and her index finger twirled around my flaccid cock as she
spoke:
His fingers were running up and down
my clit over my panties. Within a couple
of strokes, my panties were soaked. He
could feel it.
‘Why
have you held out on me all this time?’ I asked Robert as he was feverishly
trying to slide my panties over my boots.
He got them off and he was trying to
remove my skirt, but it has a zipper in the back. I kissed him and slowly stood up, turned
around, and let him unzip it. The skirt
fell to the floor and he felt my bare ass with his hands and then he began
kissing it.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he said. ‘Even more beautiful than in your photos.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, turning around
to face him. He saw my silky smooth
pussy. He kissed it. I came.
I came hard just from the light touch of his lips on my soft
triangle. I had to grab his shoulders to
steady myself. I pulled his head in to
my tum and he kissed me as he slowly removed my shirt. He sucked on my tits as I stood totally naked
before him.
‘Here I am, bare as the day I was
born,’ I said, ‘and you have all your clothes on.’
I began unbuttoning his dress
shirt. I got him out of it and out of
his t-shirt. I then got him to stand as
I got on my knees and I undid his belt, his pants button, his fly, and slowly
pulled down his trousers. I could see
his enormously long cock in his boxers.
I wanted it. I pulled down his
boxers and there it was, just as I remembered it. It was beautiful, but it was as soft as you
are right now.
I
was soft, but getting harder. “He did
tell us that he has a performance problem,” I said.
“Yeah,
I know,” she said. “I sucked on it and
gave it my best blowjob, but damn it all, I couldn’t get it hard.”
“Really?!” That was a first.
“Yeah,”
she said.
“Please
demonstrate,” I asked. “Perhaps there is
a problem with your technique.”
That
really pissed her off. Never insult Lo’s
skills in the bedroom, or any other room.
She
put her mouth on my cock and said, “I have impeccable technique.” That she did.
She worked on my slack slinky and it slowly regained some rigidity.
As
she lifted her soft lips off my stuff, she said, “He didn’t respond to my
loving labia, so I got under him and opened wide, taking his huge balls in my
mouth. That he liked. It got an immediate reaction.”
“You
are fond of instantaneous reviews.”
“He
then guided me to the bedroom where. . .”
“No,
wait,” I interrupted, “let me get in you now.”
I was hard-up and wanted to hear the end of her story from a position
that would allow me to gage her level of excitement. I slid my arousal-meter inside her and she
continued.
“We got into bed
and, well, he was still having difficulty performing. I asked him, ‘Do you want to look at some
porn together?’”
“You wanted it
bad, didn’t you?” I asked.
“I’m always up for
porn,” she said, nonchalantly. “And he
was too. He pulled up the blog.”
“Our blog?!”
“Yes. What other blog?”
“OK.”
“And we scrolled
through some pics together. He settled
on one of you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. And he got hard.”
“You’re kidding
me.”
“No I’m not. I asked him, ‘You like his cock?’ and he
said, ‘Yes.’”
“You wouldn’t put
me on like that, would you?”
“I swear,” she
said, sincerely. “I asked him more about
it and he told me that he thinks his problem might be that he’s gay. He said he likes being with women, but he gets turned on by looking at guys.”
“So what did you
do?”
“We looked at some
more porn together, mostly gay porn, cuck porn, and swinger porn. He eventually turned me over, doggy-style,
put his laptop on my back, and fucked me from behind.”
“He used you like
a coffee table?!”
“Well, if someone
invented a cross between a coffee table and a fuck doll, then, yes.”
“Good idea.”
“And then he asked
me if he could go in my ass.”
“The audacity of
that man!”
“And I said yes.”
“You little slut.”
“Yes, Daddy. Say it again.
You’re turning me on.”
“You skank. You trollop.”
“He went in my ass
and then he asked, very politely, if he could cum in me.”
“You anal
whore. I bet you wanted him to.”
“Well, I had cum
so many times by that point, it only seemed fair.”
After she said
that, I came, not in her ass, but deep in her, for the second time.
“I’m glad you were
able to be so charitable while I was away,” I said. I have to admit, I felt a twinge of jealously
and, for a moment, I regretted not taking advantage of my opportunity on the
plane.
“Why didn’t you
sleep over?” I asked her.
“It had been a
long time since I had anal sex,” she began to say.
“Don’t I know it,”
I added.
“And so I wanted
to go home to clean up. I’m sorry, but I
may have made a bit of a mess on your car seat.”
I had been away for three days and I hadn’t heard from Lo. She hadn’t heard from me either because before I left we hadn’t properly made up after our fight. On the fourth day of my five day trip I received a text from her around 6:00 pm. It simply said, “Dinner plans with Robert tonight.”
I
immediately called her. The stalemate of
silence be damned, I had to know the details.
Was this a date? What had
transpired to bring this about? Had she
been having “dinner plans” with Robert all week? There were so many questions swirling in my
mind unanswered. I had to know.
“Hello,”
she said coldly.
“Hello,” I
said imitating her tone.
“Did you
call for something?”
“I just,
um, thought I’d say hi.”
“Hi,” she
said flatly.
“What’s
this I hear about plans with Robert?” I got right to the point since it was
obvious why I was calling and I might as well drop the subterfuge.
“He and I
are going to dinner tonight,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Going out
or going to his place?”
“Out.” She wasn’t revealing many details and I could
tell she was secretly delighting in my curiosity. She was hoping it was a manifestation of
jealously.
“Like, to a
restaurant.”
“That’s
usually where couples go out for dinner.”
“Oh, so now
you’re a couple, are you?”
“I’m just saying,
in general. But there will only be the
two of us.”
“Sounds
romantic,” I said with some sarcasm.
“A gal of
my age, my looks, my intelligence deserves some romance.” Ouch!
Cutting.
“Well, have
a good time.”
“I intend
to.”
“OK,” I
said, hurt from her comment, “bye.”
She just
hung up.
In this
little game of cold shoulder, she was winning because she had a hot body
attached to that cold shoulder. Damnit!
There was
nothing I could do from hundreds of miles away but wait, for I knew that if something
sexual were to happen between them, she wouldn’t delay in telling me, if for no
other reason than to make me jealous.
Unfortunately for her, it wasn’t jealousy I was feeling, but longing,
curiosity, desire, and a prurient prick of stimulation by my groin. In other words, I wanted her. I wanted her to want him and for him to have
her and I wanted to be in on it. But I
was on the outs.
So I
waited. And waited. And waited.
It was past ten, then eleven, and finally midnight when finally I got a
text from her. It read, “Driving
home. You can call me if you want.”
Date Night
She knew
me. In the battle of
who-can-outlast-whom, she outwitted me.
She won. There was nothing to do
but concede defeat. I called
immediately.
“Hi,” I
said mawkishly.
“Oh, hi,”
she said, as if surprised by my call. A
total ruse.
“How was
your night?”
“It was
good.” She wasn’t going to reveal
details until I had shown sufficient interest and she had tortured me to teach
me who is boss.
“What did
you do?”
“We had
dinner.”
“And?” she
knew what I wanted to know.
“And then
went to his house.”
“And?”
“And we
talked.”
“And?” I
was getting very frustrated, but I also knew she was going to put me through my
paces.
“What would
you like to know, Daddio?” she asked.
The use of Daddio meant two things: 1) Something salacious happened; 2)
She felt vindicated enough to return to her proper role.
“You know,
dear.”
“No, I
don’t. That’s why I’m asking.”
“Well
then,” she said, “you’ll just have to fly back home right away and ask me in
person.
“You’re not
going to tell me?!”
“I’m
exhausted and I’m almost home. Have a
safe flight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
So I was
wrong. She hadn’t felt vindicated
enough. She was going to turn the screw
a little tighter and let me lie awake and suffer my own self-inflicted
punishment. Cruel, cruel woman.
When I
left, Lo and I were in a big fight. It’s
never good to leave for a week-long business trip halfway across the country on
bad terms. Especially with Lo. There wasn’t one thing that was the catalyst
of this rift, but rather lots of little things.
Both she and I had been dealing with pressures at work, I had been
recovering from the flu, she had an unexpected major expense that had to be
paid. We both were stressed, exhausted,
and short-tempered. Each of us had been
prickly with the other, like two porcupines in close quarters.
“Come here,
Daddio,” she said the night before I left as I was getting ready for bed. It was her way of trying to rekindle the
relationship. “I’m so cold. Come and warm me up.” Though she really was cold, she also was
naked on the bed, spreading her legs for me, rubbing her puss.
“Cold? Looks to me like you have a very warm
fleece,” I said of her au naturel triangle, “and all that friction you’re
making might light that bush on fire.”
The words came out more sarcastic and biting than I intended. My loving little banter was not warmly
received.
Watering the Bush
“If you
don’t like it, you can’t have it,” she shot back, covering herself with the
blankets.
“I never
said I didn’t like it.”
“Well, too
late. This bush is only for someone who
truly appreciates me.”
“And who
might that be?”
“ME!” she
said, pulling out her Hitachi, her dildo, and her phone.
No sooner
had she gotten the giant white ice cream cone revved up and the dildo delved in
deep and the phone queued to one of her favorite porn videos than, to her great
surprise, the phone rang! She nearly
jumped out of the bed. She dropped the
Hitachi and it was still buzzing. Her
dildo was left dangling, and she had to fumble with her phone as she said hello
because all the moaning and groaning sounds of the porno film were still
playing.
“Hi Lo,”
the person on the other end said, “Is this an ok time?”
“Yeah. Yes.
Sure. Just one sec.,” said Lo as
she tried to compose herself and shut off all her stimulation devices. Finally she was focused on the call and I
climbed into bed next to her, stroking my cock.
Seeing her pleasure herself still gets me off after all this time. But seeing her interrupted and frustrated is
a rare delight.
It was
Robert. He needed someone to talk
to. He was feeling despondent. And he had been scrolling through the
blog.
I curled up
next to Lo and whispered, “Don’t tell him I’m here,” as I guided my cock into
her cupped hand. She mindlessly gave me
a hand-job as she talked to Robert. Or
rather, I should say, I eased my way in-and-out of her palm. She was unaware of or unconcerned with my
movements.
She talked
to him in a consoling and kind tone, listening to his lament of
loneliness. He hadn’t been with someone
in so long. The night at the museum was
such a powerful moment for him. Since
then he had done more study of Koons and his Made in Heaven installation.
Jeff Koons and his wife Ilona Staller, “Made in Heaven”
When I
heard that, I was both amused and angered.
I’m the one who turned Lo onto Koons! I deserve the credit for that. Whatever.
I continued
to slide my cock in-and-out of her cupped hand.
I kept quiet.
“What did
you like about it?” asked Lo to Robert in her seductive tone of voice.
“I, um, I
liked, I like that you suggested it to me.”
“Really?”
asked Lo, intrigued. “Why?”
“Lo, I, uh,
I never met a woman like you.”
“Go on,”
she said, captivated by the story of herself.
“You’re so
brazen. Is that the right word? So, daring.
So. . .”
“Slutty?”
“That’s not
the word I was going to use.”
“Use it,”
she commanded.
“What?” he
said, as if he hadn’t heard her properly.
“Call me a
slut. I like it. Say it.
I’m touching myself now.”
She
wasn’t. She was holding the phone with
one hand and my member with the other.
“OK,” said
Robert. “You’re a slut.”
“Yesss,”
said Lo.
That was
too much for me. I pulled back and
grabbed my cock and came all over myself as Lo looked on, desirously.
Now she was
touching herself.
“Are you
jackin’ it?” she asked Robert.
“Am I. . .
?”
“Are you
jacking off? Stroking yourself?”
“No,” he
said, as if offended.
“Why not?”
“Lo, I
didn’t call you like someone would call a phone sex service.”
“You
didn’t?”
“No. I. . .”
“But you
can. What do you want to hear?”
There was a
long silence on the other end interrupted only by Lo’s occasional moans of
pleasure. Self-pleasure.
“Do you
want to hear that I loved sucking you off?” she asked.
“You did?”
“Yessss,”
she said.
“Why?”
“I love
sucking cock. Any cock. Lots of cock.
I love helping guys out. I love
giving relief. Let me help you. Are you by your computer?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Pull up a pic of me if you haven’t already.”
“I, I, I,”
Robert stammered.
“You
already had it up, didn’t you?” accused Lo.
“I did,” he
admitted.
“Good. Which pic is it?”
“It’s of you
in your neon blue panties stroking your pussy lips.”
“You like
that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It’s
beautiful.”
“Well
that’s exactly what I’m doing right now.
I’m stroking my wet, pink, pussy lips with my beautifully manicured
fingers, slowly sliding them up and down and in and out. Does that turn you on?”
“Yes.”
“Are you
stroking your cock?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, I want you to hang up the phone and take
pics of you stroking it to my pics. Make
sure my photo is in the frame so I know that I’m the one who is making you hard
and makes you cum. You will cum, won’t
you?”
“If you
want me to.”
“I do.”
“OK.”
“Do it and
send me the pics.”
“OK.”
“And
Robert.”
“Yes?”
“What am
I?”
“A dirty,
filthy slut.”
“That’s
right. Don’t forget it,” she said and
she hung up on him.
I was
cleaning myself off when she got the notification that a text was sent to
her. She opened it. There were three photos. One of Robert jackin’ it to her pics. One of him cumming. And one of the mess he made. Lo looked at them again and again and she
eventually came herself.
“Thanks,” I
said.
“For what?”
she said.
“For making
me cum,” I said.
“Oh, did I
do that?” she asked, sincerely unaware of her passive powers.
The next
morning, before Lo woke up, I was off to the airport, sad that we hadn’t
properly reconciled.
The
next time we saw him, at a fundraiser reception in an art museum, Lo affixed
herself to him. Arm-in-arm they strolled
the corridors, pausing in dimly lit corners.
It was a nighttime event and the university spared no expense and was
eager to show off its faculty to the wealthy alumni and other donors. Because of the book I published long ago on
art, I was one of the featured speakers.
After a brief hello exchanged with Robert, I was left to review my notes
and consult with the university president about the order of the program. However, every once in a while, I’d catch a
glimpse of Lo leading Robert about, taking delight in the whispers and scandal
that she was causing among our petty and gossipy colleagues. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t irk me a
little bit. It would have been a totally
different story if I could have been with them, observing, commenting, and
teased by Lola’s cuckolding up close.
As
it was, they disappeared out of my sight.
I only heard later, while horizontal with Lo in the darkness of our
bedroom, impaling her with my rock-hard rod, between her gasps and groans, what
happened.
“I
walked with him as he politely escorted me through the various galleries:
Impressionists, Expressionists, Cubists, and so on. At each one he attempted to explain to me
what I already knew, but I flattered him with my oos and ahs and reallys? – as
if he were telling me something new.”
“You’re
bad,” I said. “I bet you do that with me
too.”
“No,
Daddy, never.”
Her
lies are transparent.
She
continued, “I knew the museum very well, of course, and I eventually led him to
the contemporary art gallery. I asked
him if he liked contemporary art and he admitted he didn’t really understand
it.”
This
was a rather intellectual conversation for pillow talk. But I was willing to follow her lead.
She
said in her sultry, seduction voice:
When we got
to the contemporary, I brought him to see Richard Prince and his ‘Girlfriend’
series. He looked very confused and
asked, ‘How can this possibly be art?’
Richard Prince, “Girlfriend” closeup
I asked,
‘Don’t you find it beautiful? The artist
was so in love with his girlfriend that he chose to photograph her nude and put
her up in an art gallery for all to see.’
‘That’s
exploitation,’ he said.
‘Not if she
likes it,’ I said.
‘A good
feminist like you? – How could you like
it?’
‘How could
I like being photographed naked and put on display for all to see?’ I asked to
clarify his meaning.
‘I mean,
how could you think that she likes it or that a woman likes it or. . .’ he
stammered uncomfortably, ‘how could you like this,’ he said, indicating the large photograph.
‘You know,’ I said, ‘HH does the
same for me.’
‘What are
you talking about?’
‘He likes
to photograph me nude and then share it with the world.’
‘What?!’ he
asked, shocked.
I looked down at his crotch to see
if he was getting hard. I think he was.
‘It’s
called candaulism. It’s a kink. I’m surprised you don’t know of it – an
educated man like you,’ I said, gripping his bicep. ‘It comes from an ancient Greek story about
Candaules, the king of Lydia, who was so proud of his beautiful wife, he
arranged to allow his minister, Gyges, to see her naked.’
‘Is that
so?’ he said, as if he were only academically interested.
‘Yes. It turned out that the queen, Nyssia, was
aware of the spying eyes and, according to legend, in order to teach her
husband a lesson, summoned her husband to come to the bed and pleasure
her. Of course she knew that the figure
in the shadows was not her husband, but, unable to escape, Gyges obeyed the
command of the queen and, in the dim light, approached the bed. All the while Candaules was secretly watching
with a curious mixture of arousal and jealously. Gyges entered the bed and then entered the
queen. She said all sorts of salacious
things as they made love in order to drive the point of her lesson home, and
that she did, wounding the suffering king with her cries of passion. Finally, at the climactic moment, the king
could hold back no longer and he made himself known to both Nyssia and
Gyges. Drawing his royal sword, the king
made to slay the dutiful minister, but Gyges narrowly avoided the steel blade
and, removing it from the king’s hands, impaled the king with his own
sword. A tragic tale, don’t you think?’
‘Yes, yes
indeed. And it should serve as a
cautionary tale for HH.’
‘Oh, but
that is all ancient history,’ I said, waving my hand. ‘What HH and I do together is very fun. Its proper term is ‘compersion.’ That is, the delight of seeing one you love
pleasured by another. Would you like to
see?’ I asked, pulling out my phone.
‘Perhaps
later,’ he said just as we approached the Koons’ sculpture. ‘Dear Lord!’ he exclaimed as he saw the
porcelain rendering of Woman in Tub, ‘What
is this gallery?! The Museum of
Pornography?!’
Not Koons’ “Woman in a Tub,” but Lola in a Tub – the inspiration
‘Oh, don’t
be so rigid, and hardened in your ideas of beauty,’ I said to him as I patted
him on the chest. ‘This is a classic.’
Jeff Koons “Lady in a Tub”
‘Oh yeah,
right up there with the Mona Lisa,’ he said sarcastically.
Having my
phone out, I snapped a shot. ‘It should
be,’ I said. ‘You’re just priggish in
your stodgy ole professor way. Don’t be
such a prude.’
Art Appreciation
“I bet you
weren’t a prude, were you,” I said to Lo as I continued my steady rhythmic
forays in and out of her puss with my cock.
“I got 99 problems, but being a slut ain’t
one.” she said.
They
returned to the courtyard of the museum where I was to give my talk and I
watched them sitting in the audience next to each other. Lo’s legs were crossed and she was proudly
displaying her beautifully shod foot. At
one point I saw them passing notes.
“What did
you write to him?” I asked her.
“I just
wrote that I found it incredibly sexy to see you up there at the podium in the
museum giving your talk.”
“Really?”
“True,
Daddy,” she said. “Do you like that?”
“I do.”
“And then I
wrote that I was getting too wet to sit still.”
“You
didn’t!”
“I did,
Daddy. That’s when I got up.”
I
remembered seeing her walk out on my speech.
The thought of the reason why was too much for the erogenous zone of my
brain to handle and I unleashed a torrent of my pent-up desire inside her.
“Oh Daddy,”
she said, surprised, “Stay in me while I tell you the next little part.”
“OK,” was
all I could mutter as I caught my breath.
I went to the Ladies Room and
quickly took care of my craving. When I
returned, I sat next to Robert and asked if I missed anything.
He said, ‘No, but I feel like I
missed something.’
‘Oh,’ I said, ‘What’s that?’
‘You,’ he said.
‘Me?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I missed you when you were gone and I’m
supremely curious as to where you went and what you went to do.’
‘Come with me,’ I said, ‘and I’ll
show you.’
We got up and I took him to the
Medieval room of the museum, and there, in the dim light, surrounded by the
muted reds and blues of the stained glass windows, I sat with him at a pew and
took out my phone to show him all the photos of me from the blog, most of them
of me masturbating.
‘Robert,’ I said, ‘Here we are in a
place of devotional art and you see all these beautiful images and the
illuminated manuscripts over there?’
Lola Down – 21st Century Devotional
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘Well, this,’ I said, indicating the
images on my phone, ‘is HH’s devotional literature for me. This is the illuminated manuscript of the 21st
century. Sex is no longer sinful. Sex is spiritual. And I am a sex goddess.’
“How
extraordinarily pompous of you!” I said.
“You would have said the same,” she
retorted.
“You know me too well. But I think I’m rubbing off on you.”
“Rub off on me, Daddy! Rub off on me!” she pleaded as I was still
firmly sheathed in her dripping cunt.
“What happened next?” I asked as I
leaned into her, pressing my now tumescent cock deeper. She came and she came in massive orgasmic
waves. Clearly the memory of being the
object of worship was pleasing to her.
“Then he
took the phone and looked at it as he leaned toward me. Our lips touched and he held me tightly in
his arms as our tongues entwined. I saw
that, as he was kissing me, he was looking over my shoulder at the phone he
held in his hand, staring at my sexy photos.
I reached down and grabbed his cock and it was rock hard. His other hand reached down and felt my soft
leg all the way up to my panties. I
wanted so much more, but the event had just let out and we had to look
presentable.”
“That’s
when I found you with him walking over to me with that devilish grin on your
face.”
