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Stoya’s Secret Sexual Rival
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Slate Stoya Lola
Dear Readers:
Perhaps you know that Jessica Stoya, most famously known simply as Stoya, has a new sex and relationships column called “How To Do It.” A while ago Lola submitted to Stoya, that is, she sent in the following query but never received a response. Perhaps you have some suggestions for Lo.
Dear How To Do It:
Not sure if you can answer this question because it might be a conflict of interest for Stoya. You see, my man loves having sex with Stoya. That is, he loves to have sex with the Stoya Fleshlight I bought him as a gift. He and I have an otherwise excellent relationship. He is older than I by about two decades. We have a 1/2 open relationship. With his enthusiastic consent, I’m allowed to have fun with others – men, women, with or without his presence – but he is not. He is content with that arrangement and he also knows that the reason for the lack of symmetry is because I get jealous and insecure. As a consolation prize, I got him a Stoya Fleshlight, knowing that Stoya is one of his favorite porn stars. But now he frequently asks me to hold the Fleshlight while he goes at it, kissing me but having intercourse with her. This was fine as a novelty once in a while, even if it did make me jealous, but now it’s a more frequent request and I find I’m growing insecure of her/your prosthetic pussy. But I feel conflicted because I will frequently bring myself to orgasm using my Hitachi Magic Wand (next to him or alone) and he has no problem with that. A double-standard? Yes! Can you help me sort out these feelings?
Signed,
Stoya’s Secret Sexual Rival
Lola fingering Stoya
Stoya and Synthetic Stoya
Stoya for Lola
Stoya fingering Stoya
Lola and Mr. Hitachi
He made her cum!
Protected: V-Day is Cumming
Frankie Gets Fucked
Lola awoke in a cold sweat and with a hot, soaked puss.
“What is it?” I asked, startled from unconsciousness suddenly.
“I just had the weirdest wet dream.”
“OK,” I said, realizing that there was no returning to sleep now, “tell me about it.”
“Well, you know how you try to make me jealous talking about what’s her name from what’s that show?”
“You’re going to have to be a bit more definite than that.”
“Anyhow, I had the weirdest dream about her.”
She then proceeded to tell me the following.
She was Casey’s babysitter. Now it was just the two of them, home alone, and she was horny. She had been fapping to Lola Down and the erotica of mysexlifewithlola.com all night. She hadn’t slept. Her sheets were soaked. She wanted to feel another’s flesh on hers, between hers, deep inside hers. She wanted that hot white cum. She wanted to be a slut. She didn’t want him to think of her as that “older woman,” a cougar, beyond the bounds of propriety. She wanted to get down and dirty for him. Shock him. Shake him out of his innocent naivete about women of a certain age. About women in general. About her. She was a woman – a woman with needs, wants, desires, lusts, and deep, dark, hidden shame, disgust, and revulsion. “Debase me,” she thought, “and I can rest in my degradation.”
She led Casey to the bathroom where she had up a poster of Lola Down. She lured him there with a request that he help her “clean the drain. It’s clogged.” He followed her, admiring her ass, against his better judgment. He was ashamed of himself.
She showed him the drain. It was clogged. After only a few minutes, they agreed it was time to call a plumber. He noticed her sex toys strewn around the sink, the bathtub, even next to the toilet. He didn’t say anything. He looked around. She looked at him. It was awkward. In order to break the uncomfortable silence, he looked at the poster and said, “Nice. You?”
They looked nothing alike.
“No, it’s Lola Down. Have you heard of her?”
“No.”
He was shy.
“She likes to fuck.”
“Oh.”
“Do you like to fuck?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“Bridgette. Um. I. . .”
“I’m going to take a shower,” she said, removing her clothes. She was naked. She leaned over the sink.
“I guess I’ll get going,” he said, not leaving.
“Fuck me,” she said, protruding her ass back toward him.
“What?”
“You heard me. Fuck me.”
He simply could not believe this was happening.
“Are you a virgin?”
The question took him aback. Was it an insult? Was she demeaning his manhood? He was a virgin, that was for sure.
“I knew it,” she said without a word from him. “Now’s your chance to change that. Fuck me.”
He was fumbling to undo his belt and get out of his pants.
She turned around once she saw in the mirror that he had gotten it out, but not gotten hard. She got on her knees and looked up at him.
“How long have you wanted me to do this?” she said, her lips parted inches away from the tip of his flaccid cock.
“I. . .” He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t deny that he had often masturbated to the thought of her. When she was babysitting and after he went to bed, he had stroked it thinking about her face or about finding her naked in front of the TV asleep. Why had he fantasized about that? Vaguely, as if in a dream, a distant memory rippled across his mind. He saw her, on the couch. He had gotten up in the middle of the night. The TV was on. People were on the TV. It looked like they were fighting, wrestling. They were naked. Her jeans were down by her knees. Her hand was between her legs. She didn’t see him. He just watched. He stood silently on the stairs and watched. She was engrossed in the images on the screen. He noticed something bulging in his pajama bottoms. He didn’t know what it was. A change had come over her. She pulled her hand out of her crotch. She sniffed it. She licked it. She clicked the TV off. She pulled her jeans up. She stood up and walked to the kitchen, away from him. He went unnoticed. He returned to bed, feeling guilty and dizzy. The hard thing in his pajama bottoms wouldn’t go away.
She blew gently onto his detumescent, flagging flesh. It felt good. A tickling, caressing breeze. She put her warm wet lips over that thing. He knew what this was now. He was old enough to know. He never thought it would happen with her. His babysitter, whom he had fantasized about for so long with pangs of guilt. The babysitter he had played football with – who tackled him like a boy with laughs and fun. The babysitter he had cozied up to while eating popcorn and watching “Blue Mountain State” with, against his parent’s wishes while they were gone. The babysitter who had kissed his bruised knee better, causing a tempest of confused feelings in the pit of his stomach.
She moved her mouth, tongue, lips in ways that made his thing grow. It grew hard. She let go and turned around again, facing the mirror.
“Fuck me, Casey,” she insisted.
He moved forward. She was taller than he. He needed to stand on his toes to get the right spot. He couldn’t. She reached back, impatient, grabbed it, pulled it forward violently. “Go in!” she demanded. He went in. She was wet.
She grabbed something from next to the sink. It was a dildo. She covered it with lube of some sort. She passed it to him. “Put this in my ass.”
“What?”
“Put this in my ass,” she repeated.
He took the pointy fake penis and pressed it to the spot. It didn’t go.
She moved her right hand back to the spot. She inserted one, two, three fingers easily.
“Try again.”
He repeated the gesture. It went in.
“Hold it there,” she said.
He held it there.
“OK,” she said a little later, “Pull it out.”
He pulled it out.
“Put your dick in my ass.”
These were very elementary instructions, yet they perplexed him.
“Put. Your. Dick. In. My. Ass.”
He pulled out and put his dick in her ass.
“Harder!”
He tried to go as hard as he could.
“Slap my ass.”
“What?”
“Slap my ass.”
He gave her ass a slight graze with his open palm.
“No, slap it!”
He slapped it.
“Spank it!”
He spanked it.
“Harder. Fucking harder!”
He was hitting her ass as hard as he could with his open palm. It scared him.
“Call me a slut.”
“What?”
His repeated questions were frustrating her.
“Call me a slut!”
“Slut?” he meagerly pronounced.
“Call me a SMILF.”
“SMILF? What’s that?”
“Sitter-Mom I’d Like to Fuck.”
“OK, SMILF.”
“Call me a cunt.”
“You’re, you’re a. . .” he began crying. She could see it in the mirror.
“Fuck, you’re useless. I can’t even feel you in my ass. Pull out.”
He pulled out.
She turned around. She got on her knees again. “How small are you?” she said, observing the thin, diminutive member with wonder. In her haste to fornicate, she hadn’t thought about it much when she had it in her mouth.
She put the toilet seat down. She grabbed a dildo from the bathtub, ran it under the water of the sink and suction-cupped it to the lid of the toilet. She eased her ass down on it.
“Pass me that,” she said, indicating another dildo by the sink.
Casey passed it to her. She took it and inserted it into her pussy.
She had a look of maniacal gratification on her face.
She looked up at him looking at her with wonder. The wonder years, she thought.
She looked down and saw his cock, erect. She realized he must be in incredible discomfort.
“You need to cum?”
“What?” he asked again.
“Shut up and come here,” she said, pulling him towards her with her left hand wrapped around his buttocks.
He involuntarily moved forward. She put his cock in her mouth again, roughly. Her right hand was manipulating the dildo in her pussy. Her left hand controlled him from behind. Her ass slid back-and-forth on the dildo attached to the toilet seat. In her mind she thought about being a sexy cheerleader, the free-use girl of an orgy, a goddess worshipped. She thought about Lola Down. . . .
She was horny.
“Call me a dirty, disgusting, whore.”
He was silent, looking down at her.
Her left hand moved down toward his ass. She fingered his ass and slid a finger up inside.
He suddenly ejaculated in her mouth. The thick, copious cum dribbled out of the corners of her mouth and onto her nipples.
“OK,” she said, “Go.”
“What?”
“Go!”
He pulled up his jeans and left her there on the toilet fucking both her holes.
The next day she called a plumber. A large, middle aged white man showed up. He was unattractive. That suited her just fine. The more disgusting, the better, she thought to herself.
She led him to the bathroom. The same bathroom.
He noticed the sex toys, the poster, the toilet seat with the suction cup dildo attached to it.
“Is this the bathroom or the playroom?” he said with a chuckle.
“A little of both,” she said seductively.
Without much more conversation, they were both naked in the tub. The same tub where it had happened. The thought of it made her feel disgusting and worthless. That’s how she wanted to be treated and that’s how men – real men, like the plumber, not like Casey – treated her.
“What do you think?” asked Frankie, looking up eagerly from the pages in her hand.
“That’s your treatment for the next episode?” asked Zach.
“Yeah. You don’t like it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“So?”
“Well, you’re going to do all that on camera?”
“Yeah. What?”
“Nothing.”
“What is it?”
“Can I ask a favor?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I be there to watch.”
She laughed and leaned in to kiss him. “Only if you call me a dirty little whore while I’m getting fucked.”
“Deal.”
“So you like it?”
“I do, but I don’t think you’re going to get the greenlight to make it.”
“Why not?”
“Frankie, there’s too much that is. . .”
“What?”
“Taboo.”
“I have a way of getting to green.”
“Through the redlight district, no doubt.”
“The way involves a few curves and back roads, but I’ll get there.”
“A dream within a dream?” I asked.
“More like multiple orgasms within an orgasm.”
“I think you need to call Christopher Nolan.”
“Yeah, we could make a film together and call it MetaPorn.”
Consolation Prize
[Continued from Wing-Woman Wardrobe]
“What bar are you going to?” I asked Lo about her date with Jeremy. To clarify, she was going to be his “wing-woman,” helping him to find a suitable companion in the aftermath of his recent divorce.
“What’s it to you?” she asked, indignantly as she sat in front of the mirror, nude, putting on her eyeliner.
“Well, you don’t have to be rude about it. Am I being invasive if I would like to know where the love of my life is taking one of my good friends for drinks and to hook-up?”
“To be clear, yet again, I’m not the one who will be hooking-up with Jeremy.”
“Yes, I know that, but after your little performance trying to convince him to let you be his wing-woman, I have my doubts about whom Jeremy will be going home with tonight. I imagine you won’t let him go home alone.”
“Not if I can help it.”
“So, where are you going with him?”
“I don’t think I’ll tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll probably show up there and spy on us all night.”
“Am I really that transparent?”
“Mr. Cellophane.”
“So what? I’ll stay out of sight.”
“No you won’t.”
“I will. Promise. Please.”
“Fine, but only because I get turned on by you seeing me in action.”
“And I get turned on by seeing you in action.”
“I know that. That’s what turns me on.”
“Glad we clarified that. So, where are you taking him?”
Lola told me the name of a trendy club downtown.
“You’re not actually taking him there, are you?”
“Yes. Why not?”
“It’s so loud with that house music and the BOOM-BOOM-BOOM.”
“You’re just old.”
“How can anyone talk with that blaring?”
“Darling, they don’t have to talk. They’re interested in the BOOM-BOOM-BOOM,” she said as she got up and pretended to be fucking me, slamming her hips into my ass with each “boom.”
“Suit yourself, but I know Jeremy won’t like it.”
We discussed it some more and agreed upon a less loud bar that we’d been to before.
Lo dolled herself up, threw on black lace thong panties, a short black skirt, and a transparent white blouse. She wore some sparkly costume jewelry and cute heels. I wished I was the one going out with her, but realized that I’ll have just as good a time watching her from a distance.
Lo Getting Ready for her Date
The doorbell rang and Jeremy was nervously waiting at the door like a kid picking up his prom date.
I let him in.
“All set for your debut?”
“You can joke, but this is nerve wracking.”
“Come on in. Have a drink or two and calm yourself down. Lola’s just finishing up.”
Jeremy came into the living room and I asked him what stiff drink he’d like. Whiskey, one ice cube. Easy enough for any bartender.
As I was pouring my 13-year-old scotch, Lola’s resounding voice could be heard billowing from the bedroom. She was at it again. It’s one of her favorite parlor tricks for our guests.
I walked into the living room with two drinks in hand. As I passed Jeremy his, he looked up at me with a grave face of concern. “Is she ok?” he asked.
“Lola?” I replied with a calming smile. “Yeah, she’s fine. She’s just getting the lead out.”
“She’s what?”
“Taking care of business.”
He was still perplexed.
“She’s masturbating until she’s silly,” I finally blurted out.
“Come on,” he replied in disbelief.
“Go see for yourself. I’m sure she’d like that.”
Her howls were still the background to our conversation. But they were taking shape now into her usual masturbatory mantra of “Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”
“And that should about do it,” I said to Jeremy. “She’ll be out presently.”
About forty-five seconds later a flush Lola emerged into the living room, kissing Jeremy on the cheek.
“Hi, Lola,” he said rather embarrassed.
“Mind if I join you boys?” she asked, fixing herself a flute of champagne.
She sat in a chair next to Jeremy and very daintily placed one leg over the other as she drank. I could see Jeremy admiring her sexy gams. I wondered to myself if she crossed her legs because she was afraid she’d squirt if she didn’t.
We made some small talk until they both finished their drinks and then Lo gave me a little peck on the cheek and said, “Be good,” to me.
“Well, that’s no fun.”
She whispered, “And stay out of sight.”
That was her permission for me to show up at the bar to see her performance.
“Good luck,” I said to Jeremy.
“He won’t need luck,” interjected Lo, “He’s got me.”
I saw them get into his car and take off.
I quickly got myself dressed appropriately for a night out and sped off myself.
I heard from Lo after the fact that, on the way to the club, the following conversation took place:
Lola: You want me to jack you off?
Jeremy: What?
Lola: Jack you off. You’re a bundle of nerves right now. You need to relax.
Jeremy: Here, in the car, while I’m driving?
Lola: Yeah. You never had road-head before?
Jeremy: Road-head?
Lola: Yeah, pull out your cock and I’ll blow you.
Jeremy: I think I’d crash.
Lola: Keep your eyes on the road.
Jeremy: I’ll pass. It might make a mess.
Lola: Suit yourself.
Jeremy: Can I ask you a personal question?
Lola: Anything. I love personal questions.
Jeremy: HH said that you were, uh, masturbating back at the house.
Lola: Yeah.
Jeremy: Is that true?
Lola: I wasn’t singing in the shower. Didn’t your ex masturbate?
Jeremy: Not that I know of.
Lola: Oh honey, no wonder she ran off with the plumber.
Jeremy: What do you mean by that?
Lola: She was so repressed. She needed someone to unclog her pipe, if you know what I mean.
Jeremy: We had some regular sex.
Lola: Regular is boring. Rough, ram-rod, raw-dog is what she needs. Did she ever climax?
Jeremy: I don’t know.
Lola: Then that’s a no.
Jeremy: I grew up in a different era.
Lola: But women needed then what they need now. Promise me that if you start dating again, you’ll come to me.
Jeremy: Come to you?
Lola: Yeah, for advice.
Jeremy: Oh.
Lola: What did you think I meant?
Jeremy: Nothing.
Lola: You thought I meant ‘cum to me,’ didn’t you?
Jeremy: Well, is that what you meant?
Lola: I wouldn’t be offended.
Road Head
They got to the bar. Jeremy was hard under his pressed khaki pants. Lola had teased him so. But that was quickly replaced by nervousness and fear. He hadn’t done something like this in over twenty years. This wasn’t one of those super-trendy bars with the red velvet rope, the long line outside, the bouncer turning anyone away whom he thought didn’t add cache to the joint. No, this was a regular bar in a desirable neighborhood that had a commanding view of our city. The drinks weren’t cheap and the food was served on small plates. The clientele had to be of a certain economic strata in order to afford it. And that was Lola’s fatal flaw in her design for this evening. Instead of taking Jeremy to some dive joint popular with the college age crowd, she took him to something that she knew would be upscale. But, as a result, it meant that the only single women in the place were in their forties. Maybe there were a few in their thirties. But all the twenty-something women were on the arms of older men who could afford to treat their dates to a special evening.
I’m not judging or stereotyping. I’m just describing what I saw. Lo knows that she and I are frequently one of those December/May couples in an establishment like this.
Despite the fact that I had left the house after Jeremy and Lo, I arrived first. My knowledge of the city streets is better than Jeremy’s navigation system. I was inconspicuously hidden in a dark corner at a table for one. I saw Lola confidently enter with Jeremy and I saw as she scanned the room for the optimal place to occupy with him for greatest effect and maximum visibility. They took a spot at the center of the bar. Lo ordered a fancy cocktail and Jeremy ordered a beer. They were talking as if they were colleagues at work. Lo was running her hand through her thick hair, smiling, and gently touching Jeremy’s elbow as she laughed.
At the club
I could see guys at the bar taking note of Lola. More than one of them tried to chat her up, but she shut them down quick.
Jeremy looked stiff as a board, and not in a good way. After a couple more drinks, they both were loosened up a bit. So was the crowd. More people filed into the already cramped bar area and eventually two women who were trying to order drinks near Lo and Jeremy struck up a conversation with them. I couldn’t hear it, of course, but I later got the gist of it from Lola.
It turned out these two women were both in their forties and both newly divorced and trying to break into the dating scene. Lo elicited all the information from them while masterfully directing their attention to Jeremy and attempting to remove herself from the equation by explaining that they are just friends. But Lo overplayed her hand. In order to fully dispel any doubt of her own intentions vis-à-vis Jeremy, Lo said she’s not into guys.
Oh boy, the eyes of the two women lit up! Their conversation became animated. They started regaling Lo with stories about flirting or kissing girls in college, always wanting to try it more, being married and confined by the marriage, and now, ready to explore new possibilities.
The two women were already quite intoxicated when they began talking with Lo and Jeremy. Their inhibitions were down and their arousal at this young, fresh meat high. They complimented and flirted with Lo, leaving Jeremy to watch dumbly.
Lo, for her part, cannot turn away from the attention. And so, after a few paltry attempts to direct their interest toward Jeremy, Lo gave in. Soon she was making out with one and then the other of the women, exchanging numbers, and, eventually, walking out with Jeremy.
On the ride home, Lo felt truly bad for her behavior.
Lola: I’m sorry about that.
Jeremy: About what?
Lola: The two women. We came out for you, not me.
Jeremy: That’s ok. I found it entertaining.
Lola: You like lesbians?
Jeremy: Who doesn’t?
Lola: You jack off to girl-on-girl porn?
Jeremy: [Uncomfortable.] Um, er, I have.
Lola: Are you hard now?
Jeremy: I’m driving.
Lola: I see that. You can drive and be hard.
Jeremy: I’m. . .
Lola: [Feeling his crotch.] Mmmm, you are hard.
Jeremy: There’s something about your voice.
Lola: That everything I say is dirty and depraved?
Jeremy: [Laughing.]
Lola: [Putting her right hand between her legs.] Did you want to see me with those two women?
Jeremy: I wouldn’t have objected.
Lola: Did your wife look at porn?
Jeremy: Ex-wife.
Lola: Did your ex-wife look at porn?
Jeremy: I told you, I don’t think so.
Lola: When you had sex, would she put her finger down on her clit and stroke it?
Jeremy: No.
Lola: Would she pull her pussy lips wide and stretch them out until it hurt?
Jeremy: No.
Lola: Would she curl her index finger up and inside her and finger herself when your cock was filling her up?
Jeremy: No.
Lola: Would she get so fucking wet that she could slide her entire hand inside and grab your cock while you fucked her?
Jeremy: No.
Lola: Would she beg you for another man to fuck her at the same time as you?
Jeremy: Never.
Lola: [Pulling out his dick.] You’re so hard right now. That whole time at the bar must have made you so full-up. Do you have blue-balls?
Jeremy: Uh.
Piss Slut
Just then they pulled up to the house. Again, I was home before they and I pretended that I had never even left. I was sitting on the couch. I saw the car headlights outside. Inside the car, Lola was climaxing. She held Jeremy’s hand as she pressed her knees together tightly. She squeezed Jeremy’s hand so firmly that he cried out. Lo bit her lower lip. When she finally relaxed, she turned to him and said, “I’m sorry for hurting you. I was trying to hold it in.”
“Hold what in?”
“My squirt.”
“Squirt?”
“Yeah. I didn’t want to leave a puddle on your seat.” There was a long pause before Lo, realizing that Jeremy was thinking about leaving, said, “You can stay a while. It’s a two-car garage, if you know what I mean.”
“I think I should go.”
“So soon?”
“Yeah.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Just go home.”
“And masturbate?”
Jeremy looked baffled at Lola.
“You can say it,” she coaxed gently.
“I might.”
“Why don’t you let me do it for you,” she said rather than asked. She began to jerk his cock as he was in park. Her mouth was very near to the tip of his cock. She looked up at him. “Do you wish you could have seen those two women hungrily and greedily fondling my naked body? What do you think? They each had two or three kids. What do you think it would be like? Them, with their sagging breasts, jealously pawing at my perky tits. Sucking them. Telling me to suck theirs. One of them holding my ankles up in the air as the other buries her face in my bush. Each of them telling the other to use me, to finger me, to fist me. Maybe they had their own strap-ons and they wanted to take turns fucking me. Maybe one wanted to fuck my cunt as the other fucked my ass. What do you think? How do you think I would like that?”
“I, I, I think you’d love that.”
Lola stroked faster.
“I totally would. I’d like them to put a collar and leash on me and lead me around the house naked like a dog. They could bring me to the bathroom and piss on me – in my hair, on my face, on my tits. They could sit on the side of the tub and masturbate until they squirt on my body. They’d call me their slut, their whore, their bitch. They’d pull at my nipples and spank my ass. One of them would hold my legs back as the other spanked my pussy. They’d punish me for being young and beautiful. They’d take out all their frustration on me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Suddenly there was a massive ejaculation that shot from the tip of Jeremy’s cock to Lola’s face. It wouldn’t stop spurting hot white cum all over her face. It was as if he hadn’t cum for years! Lola loved it! He called out and moaned and pounded the ceiling of his car with his fist.
Finally, when he had calmed down, Lo sat back, her faced covered, her hair covered, her neck covered and dripping down her cleavage, and she said, “The icing on the cake! HH will love this!”
“Oh shit,” said Jeremy, “HH.”
Lo laughed. She repeated, “HH will love this. Don’t worry.”
“You two have one strange relationship.”
“Not so strange. You’ll see. The world has changed a lot since you were single.”
“Well, Lola, thanks for a good night.”
“Sorry I had to be your consolation prize.”
“To be honest, you’re the one I wanted the most.”
“You’re so sweet!” said Lo as she leaned in and kissed Jeremy a long, open mouthed kiss, getting his own warm cum all over him.
“Good night,” she said as she hopped out of the car and walked in to greet me, the evidence of her evening covering her like a pearlescent halo that had melted.
“Hello Lo,” I said as she walked in.
She approached me and kissed me just as she had kissed Jeremy and then she dragged me to the bedroom to fuck her as she recounted for me every detail of the date, asking me, “Daddy, am I a slut? Am I a total whore? Am I bad? Look at me, covered in another man’s cum. Punish me.” And through her mental masochism, she managed to bring herself to orgasm multiple times.
The cum on
Protected: Don’t Fuck Me, Photograph Me!
Smalltown Strumpet – Flaming Lips
Smalltown Strumpet – Part III: Flaming Lips
Continued From: The Doctor Will See You Now
The Flaming Lips
Lo was out of commission. There would be no sexy suntanning in the front yard, no strip club short-short shenanigans, no teasing the townies down Main Street. She spent much of her time submerged in the clawfoot tub or strutting bottomless around the house, airing out her nettle-enflamed pussy. She had to sit on pillows and masturbating was now out of the question. This put her in a very unpleasant mood.
Though I wished to attend to her, I needed to get out of the house, lest I bear the brunt of her frustration with her cunt.
I had been working on an article about bestiality portrayed in art and literature through the centuries and thought I’d mosey down to the local library to continue my studies.
Lo had taken a couple of Tylenol PM and was resting comfortably when I slipped out with my computer and backpack. I figured I had a couple of hours to myself.
The library was a very small brick building. There were two rooms and a small anteroom at the entrance that contained the check-out desk, a couple of computers, and a display table for new books.
I set up in a small corner of the library, sitting in a large, square, worn brown leather club chair that looked like it was at least as old as I am. It was remarkably comfortable and the arms were flat, so they were perfect for resting my books and computer around me conveniently.
I began by looking at a blog from Remittance Girl on “Defending the Indefensible: Bestiality in Erotica.” It was a great place to start my research. She had written the article in response to censorship of erotica authors by PayPal – an infringement of speech that this very author had suffered by that very company! They should call it PrudePal.
In her article she referenced one of my favorite authors, Neil Gaiman, and his defense of Chris Handley, among others who have been prosecuted for the material they read, write, draw, collect, sell, or possess.
This led me down a rabbit hole into a morass of law, liberty, and lurid content. Thank goodness my chair had its back against the wall because if any local busybody were to see the ‘scholarly studies’ I was researching, there’s no telling what would happen.
Actually, there is a telling what would happen and if you have a moment, I will inform you as to the tempest in a teapot that an oversight by me stirred up in that little hamlet.
I was deep into my investigation of Greek portrayals of bestiality and had about ten different books from the library surrounding my chair when I received a text from Lola. “Where are you, Daddy?”
I guess I won’t be able to start my deep dive into Hokusai and the Japanese tradition of erotic images. I packed up my stuff hastily, leaving behind the library books in their sprawling spread of towers on the armchair.
Perhaps another time I will get back to you with my developed thoughts on the matter.
I drove back to the house where we were staying, to find Lo fully naked and fully submerged in the tub. She looked up at me and said, “I’m wet, and not just because I’m taking a bath.”
“Feeling better?”
“Much,” she said. “But you left me, Daddy!” She pouted.
“I’m sorry Lo, but. . .”
“Shut up and get naked.”
“I’m not going for a swim. There’s only room for one in there.”
“Who said anything about that?” she asked as she put her mouth on the edge of the tub and opened wide. She looked up at me. “Insert your cock. I’ll be your cumdump.”
I did as instructed. She sucked. I fucked (her face). Water splashed around. She contorted in the tub, eventually getting to a position where her legs were going straight up the wall in a “V” formation, her head was tilted back over the opposite side of the tub, and she was squeezing her tits and pulling on her nipples as I fucked her face. With every thrust into her mouth and down her throat, my heavy ball sack was slapping up against her upside-down face, smacking her squarely in the eyes and on the bridge of her nose. She liked it.
Lo, cooling down her flaming lips
Somehow the plug came undone and the water drained out of the tub. Lo moved her hands from her tits to her pussy. She began smacking it hard and then even harder. She slapped her pussy like a mother spanking a very naughty child, with force and anger, until she finally squirted all over the wall of the bathroom. The naughty child crying from the pain, perhaps. Seeing that, I couldn’t control myself any longer and I came directly into Lo’s esophagus. She gagged and nearly puked in the tub from the odd position of the climax.
I was dreading another trip to the hospital!
She jumped out of the tub, coughing and sputtering like she had been tossed at sea. Cum was oozing out of her nostrils and she was struggling to catch her breath. When she finally did, she said something I didn’t quite catch.
“What?” I asked.
“That was awesome,” she repeated.
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“This stinging sensation in my pussy lips really makes for an incredible orgasm.”
“You should sit in poison nettles more often.”
“I think I might be able to have sex now, Daddy.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but my pussy is still burning. Do me a favor.”
“What’s that?”
“Grab a tray of ice cubes from the freezer and meet me in the bedroom.”
I did as she asked, wondering how I was going to get hard again in order to give her what she wanted.
I met her in the bedroom and she was lying on her back.
“Take an ice cube and trace it around my labia,” she said.
I gently applied the cold, slippery, dripping ice to her pussy lips. She loved it.
“Slip it in.”
I inserted it.
“Another,” she said.
I did the same thing a second time.
“Again,” she said.
And a third time.
This continued until there were more ice cubes in her pussy than in a tall glass of lemonade.
“Now fuck me.”
At this point, the eroticism of what I had been doing had me rigid. Timidly I inserted the tip of my penis just a bit into her ice-packed pussy.
It felt cold. Freezing, to be exact. But not unpleasant.
“Fuck me!”
She likes to go from zero to balls-deep in under a minute.
I slide my rod all the way into her snow cone. There was a curious mixing of hot and cold and wet, since all the ice cubes were melting pretty rapidly inside her.
We had hardly started to stir her dirty Shirley when she said, “Go get more ice.”
I pulled out, feeling a chill on my thermometer, and got another tray of ice.
I inserted my manhood to her ice bucket and as I fucked her, the friction creating heat and melting her internal coolant, she reached over and took fresh ice cubes and, one-by-one, slipped them into her slit over the shaft of my cock. The tightness, the alternating hot and cold, the slip-sliding of the cubes inside her pussy, was unlike anything I had ever felt.
“Should I put a few in my ass?” she whispered.
I couldn’t answer and before I knew it, she was spreading her ass cheeks with one hand and putting the cubes in with the other.
“Do you want my ass, Daddy?”
I did. I did, so bad.
I pulled out and slid my hot and cold compress into her smaller icebox and within mere seconds I melted her heart with the heat of my love.
I pulled out and all the white, watery liquid spilled out of both holes as she stood up to go to the bathroom. It quickly dribbled down her inner thighs to her feet and puddled on the hardwood floor, leaving a trail from the bedroom to the bathroom. I suddenly heard a loud rattle. Her remaining ice cubes slipped out and crackled on the tile floor.
“Whoops!” I heard her call.
When she returned, she got on her knees beside the bed and looked up at me.
“Did you like that Daddy?”
“Very much, Lo,” I said.
She licked my balls and continued up my cock and then took the tip of my flaccid shaft into her mouth. “Can I be your cock-warmer, Daddy?” she asked before taking the entire length of it in her mouth and resting her head gently on my inner thigh.
[To be continued. . .]
Lo’s cockwarmer
Protected: Family Fan Mail
Protected: Res Ipsa Loquitur, or The Pencil Test
Problem Solving
Lola on the phone, tits out
“Lola, it’s worse than it was before,” said MILF Meri.
“What do you mean, worse?”
“Just that.”
Meri had called late at night. Lo was in bed next to me. I could hear everything Meri said since it was so quiet at home and she was so demonstrably loud.
“Worse in what way?”
“Well, it used to be just a hand-job before bed. A soothing caress to help him fall asleep.”
“Yeah.”
“And now, it’s like every night, he’s sneaking around, waiting for Scott to fall asleep and begging me to go into the first-floor bedroom and let him fuck me.” That bedroom is Meri’s ‘masturbation room’ where Lo fucked Meri’s husband and three sons the week prior.
“Do you?”
“He’s very persuasive, very persistent. And, well, you know, he only lasts five minutes at the most. So, it’s just faster and easier to give in than to resist.”
“Meri, there’s your husband and your other two sons to think about. None of them know, do they?”
“No. Not at all. It’s the first time I’ve ever had to keep something about sex a secret.”
“What about your solo sessions in that room?”
“I usually would shut the door, but it was no secret what I was up to.”
“Usually?”
“I mean, I’d shut the door, but you know what it’s like in my house. One of the kids always needs something and they would open it without knocking or whatever.”
She was more upset about being interrupted than the invasion of privacy.
“But this is different,” she continued. “And he wants to do it in there because that’s where he had you. He opens up your books and looks at your photos while fucking me.”
“I have to go,” said Lo abruptly. She hung up.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I don’t want to be any part of that,” she said.
“Why do you think she called you?”
“It certainly wasn’t to figure out a solution to her problem. And even if it was, that’s her problem, not mine. Let her figure out how to solve it.”
She shut off the lights and silenced her phone.
“Night,” I said.
“Night,” she replied in the dark.
I didn’t fall asleep. I could tell she wasn’t falling asleep either. I looked at the clock. It was ten past ten.
I looked again. It was ten thirty.
I wasn’t sleeping. I could tell she wasn’t either. I didn’t move. I hardly breathed. I waited.
Fifteen more minutes passed.
I felt her move. She spread her legs. She reached under the blankets. Rhythmic motions. Sloshing sounds. Muted moan. Faster strokes. Sudden stop. “Fuck,” whispered in the dark. Convulsion. Release.
She reached for her breasts and caressed and squeezed them.
I was hard under the sheets.
“Jack me off,” I whispered.
She was startled. She thought I was asleep.
“What?”
“Jack me off.”
“It’s time to sleep,” she said, playing coy.
“Grab my cock and stroke it. Make me cum. Just like Meri and her son.”
She obeyed.
“Like this?” she asked as she held me firmly.
“Use some lube,” I instructed.
She reached into her nightstand drawer and pulled out the tube. She keeps it there, reserved only for me since she has her own, natural lubricant.
She squeezed a dollop into her palm and reached under the blankets again, sliding her hand around my cock. That first, cold, wet, firm squeeze is the best part of her handjobs.
“You can’t get them out of your head, can you?” I asked.
“No, Daddy.”
“You’re a bad, dirty, depraved, morally degenerate girl.”
“Yes, Daddy. Can I suck your cock?”
“No.”
“Please, Daddy.”
“No.”
“Do you want to fuck me?”
“No.”
“Do you want to use me?”
“Only your hand.”
“Why?”
“Because, that’s what I want right now.”
“Do you want to fuck Stoya?”
“Yes.”
“OK.”
Stoya and her anal Fleshlight
She got up and pulled out the Fleshlight. She lubricated it and my cock properly. I was in a mood to deny her. I don’t know why. She slid the pornstar’s pussy on my rod. She lifted it and lowered it like a single-cylinder engine.
Stoya and her pussies
She could tell by my breathing I was getting close. She took Stoya off of me and replaced her with her mouth in order to coax all my cum out of me and swallow it. I can only imagine that the initial taste was unpleasant due to the lube. Didn’t matter to her. She wanted my ejaculate. She wanted to bring me to a climax with her mouth, not Stoya’s pussy. I gave her what she wanted and she swallowed every warm drop.
“Better Daddy?” she asked.
“Yes. You’re a good girl. Now it’s time for sleep.”
Stoya and Lola side-by-side