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Masochistic Humiliation

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[Continued from Summertime: Dogs, Wieners, and Buns]

 

Knotty

“You left her there, like that, on the couch, mounted by her pup?”

“Yes,” said Lo, followed by, “Now have me, Daddy.”

“But wait,” I replied.  She walked away down the hallway to the bedroom.  By the time I got there, she was naked on the bed, lying on her tum, her bare feet dangling in the air above her, her legs spread wide.

“Daddy, come, play with my pussy,” she said.

I pulled off my clothes hastily and got on top of her.  To my surprise, she was engrossed in some photos on her phone.

“What are you looking at?” I inquired as I slowly inserted my cock between her dripping wet pussy lips and slid it in right down to the shaft.

She moaned and said, “Is that your idea of foreplay?  I said play with my pussy, not impale it.”

I pulled out.

“I didn’t say stop,” she grunted.

I slid in again.

“I thought your idea of foreplay,” said I, “was mounting my hard cock as I slept.”

“That’s only one idea.  There are a lot of others.”

“What are you looking at?” I asked again, more demanding now since her hands were deliberately covering the screen of her phone.

“Nothing,” she said.

She was lying.  I knew that.  I thought, “OK, let her have her little secrets.  I’ll find out later.”

“Why did you leave Scarlett?” I asked, trying to pump her for information.

“No talk.  Fuck,” she instructed.

I gave up on my curiosity and simply explored her deepest recesses with my prick rather than with my pointed words.

“My ass!” she said, reaching both hands behind her and grabbing her ass cheeks to spread them and give me a clear target.  “I want you to fuck my ass and then my puss and then my ass again – like a dog whose heat-seeking sensor keeps getting confused.”

It was an odd juxtaposition of simile and metaphor, but I was not going to nitpick at that moment.  It was clear that her experience with Scarlett had left a lasting impression.

I gave her what she had requested, back-then-front and back again.  In-out-in-out.  Cunt-rump, cunt-rump, repeat.  She was gushing.

The entire time she was looking down at her screen.

“Now,” she commanded, “ram it home up my ass.  NOW!”

No time to think.  Deep spelunking down her dark cavern.

“FUUUUUUCK!” was the response.  This was the key to unlock the water works as her pussy gushed forth all at once in a deluge resembling the explosion of a water balloon.

Everything was drenched – me, the bed, her legs.

She finally rolled over on her back and, her breasts heaving with her deep breaths, she managed to smile a grin of relief and whisper between inhaling, “Thank you, Daddy.”

I crawled up next to her and, after she regained her equilibrium, she squirmed on the soaking wet bed and took my cock in her mouth.  I was still hard.  I had not cum.  The pressure of performing outweighed the pleasure of putting it in her ass.

She began to lick and to insert my cock deep to the back of her throat as the fingers of her right hand tickled and cupped my testicles.

I took advantage of her preoccupation with insuring that I gain as much pleasure as she to grab her phone and discover what had her so enchanted while I fucked her.

The photos surprised me.  She had found a cache of Irena Ionesco’s photographs of her daughter Eva.  Apparently, the mother-daughter dynamic had appealed to her prurient imagination.

Eva

Eva

Eva

Eva and friend

Eva

Eva

Lola imitating Eva Ionesco’s photo

I wasn’t ready for my exquisite torture to be over just yet.

Reaching down and grabbing Lo’s thick mane – a move she usually loves because I’m usually holding her on my cock in the position that affords the most pleasure to me – I gently pulled her off of the bone she was so eager to fondle with her face.

“Lo, come here,” I whispered.

She looked up at me, disappointed.  She is not satisfied until and unless her fornication friend is satisfied.

“Is everything ok?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said.  “I just want to talk with you.  I want to hear your story.”

“I told you already.”

“No, I want to know more.”

She slid up from my crotch to lie on the pillow facing me as I was lying on my pillow.

“Like what?” she asked.

“Why did you leave Scarlett?”

“She was completely incapacitated.  Reilly had mounted her and was riding her good.  He had already cum – into the pillow – and he was going to take a while.”

“So?  She could have licked your pussy while the dog had his way with her from behind.  You could have been next in line, if Reilly was riled up enough.  You’ve been aching for that again.  Anything could have happened.”

“Is that what you want?  Did I let you down, Daddy?”

“It’s not about me,” I said, a bit sorry that she was taking my comments that way.  “I’m just surprised.  You clearly like this woman.  You’re attracted to her.  And – to have a four-legged friend trained in the art of pleasing its mistress. . .”

I didn’t have to continue because we both knew what sorts of erotic fantasies she dreams up while masturbating; dreams and fantasies of past experiences reconfigured into imaginings of future fun.

“You don’t understand, Daddy.  She looked so, well, the only word I can think of is incapacitated.  She was impaled on his prick and he was like the puppet master, pulling her strings with it.  She seemed so, so. . .” Lo struggled to find the right word, “pathetic.”

“Pathetic?”
“Yes.  I mean, there she was, Collin’s right-hand woman, as she called herself.  Older, sophisticated, sexy, all put-together, and that British accent!  You have no idea what that does to me!  She looks down at me with that haughty, superior look.”

“I’m sure that’s just in your mind,” I said, doubtful that Scarlett, whom I had yet to meet, was looking down at Lo.  Looking at her as a piece of meat to be devoured, maybe, but not looking down at her.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t matter,” said Lo, “that’s how I felt around her.  But when she was being fucked by her furry friend, when she was desperate to have me, when she was completely and utterly debased and degraded like that on the couch, her big breasts hanging down, rocking forward-and-back under the thin, transparent fabric of her blouse, and she was unable to do a thing about it – that’s when I knew I had to go.”

“But why?”

“Because it gave me the upper hand for once.  If I had stayed and let her lap up my labia, let Reilly ram his red rocket down my ravenous vagina like he was doing to her, and be made his bitch as completely and helplessly as she was, well then, I’d have even less self-respect next time I see her than I did the first time.”

“But you wanted her?”

“When she was washing my legs in the bathtub,” she said, her eyes glazed over as the scene played out before her mind’s eye, “and she hopped in, completely clothed, and got between my legs to wash my inner thighs, I was nearly certain she was going to ask me to piss all over her – her beautiful hair, her beautiful face, her red red lips, on her flimsy, sexy blouse and tits.”

“You really think she was going to ask that or. . .”
“Maybe I was hoping she’d ask for that.”

“Because, again, you’d have the upper hand.  You’d be demeaning her, humiliating her by pissing on her.”

“Yeah, probably.  What could be more humiliating?”

“You like it,” I reminded her, though she needed no reminding, I’m sure.

“Yeah, because I’m a masochist.”

“Well, maybe she is too.”

“No doubt,” she said, “but, if she goes about all haughty and holier than thou professionally – like she’s the sadist, at least towards me – then I’m not about to let her soon forget who is in charge in the bedroom.”

“A little sadistic streak in you too, then.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I guess you have met your match.”

“Daddy,” she said, “you’re my match.”

“You’re too young to remember, but a standard matchbox would come with twenty or fifty matches.”

“That’s a lot of fire.”

“Looks like she lit a flame between your legs.”

“Fuck me again, Daddy.  Like a doggy.  In my ass,” she said.  “And give me my phone back, you sneak!”

XXX-mas Party with an image of Lola and friend above the mantle.

 

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Off the Record with ‘S’

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A while ago, Lola conducted an interview with a hotwife, MILF, amateur porn-star named ‘S’ (you can probably figure out who she is). During the interview, S’s story took an interesting turn that was, then, off the record. Since then S has given up the porn production (because certain family members found out and pressured her and her husband to stop) and so now we bring you the part we had to leave out then, but we won’t be saying who exactly this is for, well, obvious reasons.

Artist’s rendering of the story

Lola to ‘S’: “Your son’s friends don’t know about your porn?”

‘S’ replied, “I didn’t say that.  Is this off the record?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Please.”

“OK.”

“Like I said, one of our friends found out about the homemade porn we were making and posting.  They thought it would be. . . I don’t know what. . . funny to tell our other friends.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.  So we had to tell our sons. They would find out from someone sooner or later and it was better to be from us than from one of their friends at school.”

“Of course.”

“So we told them.  The oldest didn’t want to know anything more.  He’s out of the house and was like, ‘Whatever Mom.’  But our younger son.  He had just started high school, so it could have been devastating for him.”

“Of course!”

“To our surprise, he had so many questions!”

“Like what?”

“Why?  Who?  How often?”

“Did you tell him?”

“Yes.  Of course.  We wanted to be honest.”

“How did he handle it?”
“He eventually accepted it – all of it.”

“That’s amazing!”

“Well, he’s pretty mature for his age.”

“I’d say.”

“But his friends eventually found out.”

“News of a mom making homemade porn spreads faster than news of a mom making homemade cookies, I guess.”

“Especially among young boys with raging hormones, just emerging out of a pandemic lockdown.”

“I can only imagine,” said Lo, dreamily.

“And they started jacking off to my films.”

“How’d you find out about that?”

“That’s an interesting story.”

“Do tell!”

“Well, one day his friends came over after school.”

“OK.”
“And they were playing video games and drinking soda and, you know, usual stuff.”

“Yeah.”

“But then I popped into the basement – that’s where they had the game console set up.”

“I can picture it.”

“I offered them some chips and other snacks or drinks, but they all just looked at me like I had three heads – or three tits!”

“That clued you in.”

“Yeah.”

“Then what?”

“I found out that after I had left the room, one of them said, ‘Can we turn off the game and watch your mom on Pornhub?’  My son was like, ‘No!  Absolutely not!’  But his friends overruled him and they turned it on.  The one who had asked to watch it knew exactly how to find it.  ‘That’s your mom?!’ the others asked.  They couldn’t believe it!”

“I bet.”

“They asked my son if I would come downstairs again.  He called me and I walked downstairs with more snacks for them.  They had turned the video game back on and pretended like they weren’t just watching porn of me.  I happened to be tanning outside when he called and so they saw my tattoos and knew right away that it was really me and not just a look-alike.  One of them was bold enough to say, ‘Mrs. P–, what’s it like to make those videos?’  I was taken aback and I said, ‘What are you talking about?’  He said, with a smirk, ‘You know.  We were just watching it.’  They turned it back on to show me.  It was a vid of me with two other men.”

“That’s mortifying!”

“Well, I had to accept it, right?”

“I guess.”

“It was my choice, after all.  Mine and my husband’s.”

“What happened next?”

“I said, ‘It’s just for fun,’ like I didn’t care what they did.  As if I was talking about gardening as a hobby or something.”

“And?”

“Well, they clamored, ‘Will you have fun with us?’”

“Bold!”

“Yes.  But they were at an age that they’d say anything that popped into their heads.”

“What did you say?”

“I thought I’d challenge them.  A game of chicken that I thought I’d win.  I said, ‘Pull down your pants and find out.’”

“Also bold!  What did they do?”

“To my shock and surprise, they did!  I was faced with five pubescent penises standing at attention as I stood in my skimpy bikini holding a bowl of chips!”

“What about your son?”
“He was there.  He watched.  He didn’t take down his pants.  His face blushed.”

“And?”

“I said, ‘You all jack off, right?’  They nodded.  I pulled my bikini bottom up tight so that my labia were flapping down over the taught string and said, ‘Well, tonight you can masturbate to the thought of this.’”

“That’s amazing!  Did they pull up their pants with a smile on their faces?”

“No.  The same boy who asked me about the porn, said, ‘I want you now!’”

“And?”

“Well, I can’t lie, I was intrigued to see how these kids could do.”

“No!”

“He started jacking off right there, in front of me and in front of his friends.”

“What did you do?”

“I watched.”

“Just watched?”

“Well, I’ll admit, I got wet.  I could feel my juices dripping down my inner thighs.”

“And?”

“He stared at my pussy lips as they enveloped the G-string and stroked so hard until he came.  He came so much and so powerfully and so far!!!!  It landed on my bare feet!”

“What happened next?”

“I said, ‘Feel better?’  He could hardly speak, but he nodded ‘Yes.’  I said, ‘Good.  Now the rest of you can go home and do the same, but this is our little secret, ok?’  No one said anything.  I added, ‘If you ever want something like this to happen again, you’ll agree, this is our little secret.  OK?’  They all agreed.”

“And what did you do?”

“I turned around slowly, so they could get a good glimpse of my ass, and went upstairs.  I went to my bedroom, got on the bed, pulled out my dildo, and went to town on my holes thinking about all those little eager cocks standing at attention for my pussy.  I thought about them all watching porn of me getting fucked and masturbating to me and I came so hard that I had to change all the bedding!”

“Did you tell your husband?”

“Not right away.”

To be continued…

Ultimate Bush

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Lola’s two favorite toys

Lo was on the bed next to me, her Hitachi in one hand vibrating her clit and her horse-cock dildo in the other, filling her hungry hole.  I was sitting up reading the day’s news, waiting for her third orgasm.  With her, they always come in threes.  That morning, the first was with me.  It was one of those wonderful, Saturday morning, simultaneous climax situations where her moaning and saying, “Daddy, I’m cumming,” produced just the opposite of what she wanted.  She wanted to make me harder, to penetrate her deeper, and desire her desperately.  Instead, as often happens, the seductive sound of her voice coaxed my one and only orgasm right out of me and into her.  Luckily, the feel of my essence spouting out of me and pouring into her was enough to cause her first peak to be somewhat satisfying, if only as an appetizer.

She then continued to orgasm number two by pulling out her phone and scrolling through the many photos she had received recently of men in panties.  The ones she likes the most are the married men who surreptitiously steal their wives’ panties, put them on, and play with themselves to her photos until they ejaculate in the red, black, or white lace panties and then put them back in their wives’ drawer for them to discover later – maybe when they’re late for work and hurriedly slip into the first panties they grab, unknowingly putting on the sperm encrusted underwear.

That orgasm was even better than the first, which was not a very complimentary commentary for me.

Then it was onto the Big O.  In the trifecta of orgasms, this third is the one that wins.  The second (performed by her fingers alone) places.  And the first (the one with me) only shows.  You can see, her number system is just the opposite of a horse race.  Speaking of horses, that was exactly what she went for that morning – her Exotic-Erotics Remus Horse Cock Dildo.  That, in combination with her Hitachi Magic Wand, is the gold standard of her orgasms, only outdone by having something – a princess plug, her finger, my cock, someone else’s cock – in her ass.  That orgasm would be platinum and, that plus simultaneously sucking on tits, pussy, clit, or cock would be the diamond award.  But that is the rarest of rare.

Apologies for the digression into Lo’s ranking system.

Back to our story.  Once she had successfully mounted her highest peak that morning, ejaculating all over the covers, she rested in her puddle of pure delight.

Once I could tell she had regained her cognitive functioning again, I said to her, “Did you see what Kim Kardashian’s brand of fashion came out with this week?”

“Skims?”

“Yeah, Skims.”

“No.  What?”

“They released a new line of thongs called pubic hair panties.”

“What the hell is that?”

Kim Kardashian Skims Pubic Hair Panties Ultimate Bush

“I think the name aptly describes it.  Basically, a reinvention of the merkin.  They call it ‘Ultimate Bush.’”

“Let me see!” she said.

I showed her the images from my phone.  She took my phone out of my hand and began masturbating again, pulling on her thick bush.

“I say, skip the panties, keep the pubic hair.”

“Are you really going to go for a fourth orgasm?” I asked in disbelief.

“You know what they say, ‘Go fourth and prosper.’  You want me to prosper, don’t you?”

Why not camel toe panties?

She dropped my phone and had her eyes closed as she fondled herself.  After yet one more orgasm – not nearly as violent as her third – she opened her eyes and hugged me.

“What were you thinking about?”

“When?”

“The thought that brought you to climax, what was it?”

“Oh, I was just thinking if Skims expanded their Ultimate Bush panties to a bikini line.  I was picturing all the women and girls wearing them on the beach.  That really got my juices flowing.”

Only use real human hair or faux fur.

Interview: Breastfeeding and Lactation with Grey Desire

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Grey Desire – NOT how she feeds her baby.

If you don’t know about Grey Desire – the sexiest yoga instructor on the internet – then go back and read Lola’s interview with her from a few weeks ago.

Early Nude Yoga Instructional Video of Grey Desire

She just had her second child and has been posting all sorts of sexy stuff about lactating and breastfeeding. She agreed to talk to Lola about it!

Preggo Yoga with Grey Desire

Lola – First of all, congratulations on the birth of your second child! I’m so glad all went well and both baby and mommy are healthy! Also, thanks for agreeing to do an interview on lactation and breastfeeding. As a hotwife without kids, but with a lot of curiosity, this is something I’m very interested in and after seeing your posts, it seems like you’re into it too! A lot of my friends have been having babies, so breastfeeding has just become part of my social life experience. As you know, I’ve been a fan of yours since the early days of your homemade naked yoga videos. I’m amazed at the posts you make of yoga while really, really pregnant. How has yoga and your life-style helped you with pregnancy, delivery, and now with breastfeeding?

Nude yoga is all about stretching

G.D. – Thank you so much, I am so grateful for how smoothly everything went! I honestly credit a lot of that to my regular yoga practice. Keeping the body moving and strengthening key areas are so crucial to keeping up with the physical changes of pregnancy and preparing for the intense workout that is giving birth. I also worked perineal stretching into my yoga flows which is likely why I only pushed for four minutes during this delivery & had no tearing! My postpartum recovery has also been amazing and quick, I was back to feeling like my normal self and doing gentle exercises two weeks postpartum! All thanks to my regular yoga practice throughout this pregnancy!

Keeping the perineum limber

Deep downward dog

The key to yoga is to keep hydrated

Lola – Tell me about your thought process with regard to posting (and posting a lot) during pregnancy and now during your lactation. I mean, you post pee vids, squirt vids, and now vids and photos of your breasts leaking, squirting, and dripping. Not every sex-positive content creator would do that. What made you decide to go ahead and post during these times? Is it body-positivity? The money that can be made from these otherwise taboo and kinky aspects of women’s bodies? Or something else?

Grey Desire, self-proclaimed “Hucow”

The milk bar

G.D. – I think my thought process is just that I am a horny kinkster at heart 😉 All of these types of things turn me on and are my personal kinks so why not share them with the world?!

From a Grey Desire Queef video

Lola – This is your second child, right? Does the first want to get in on the meal-train when the boobs come out to feed the newborn? There’s a lot of debate out there about the proper time to stop breastfeeding. A lot of women – and it’s mostly women for some reason – shame other women when they breastfeed past a certain point. What’s your take on it?

Breastfeeding in the news

G.D. – The breastfeeding world is filled with so much shame and way too many opinions! I produced milk for a full year with my first and intend to do the same this time. Breast milk for the first year of life is the most widely recommended approach so that was my goal. Then I found that the toll creating milk took on my body was way too heavy to continue past that point, otherwise I likely would have.

Strong Opinions on breastfeeding

Lola – Just like there’s a lot of debate about the cutoff point for breastfeeding, there’s also a heated public debate about where and how it’s appropriate to breastfeed in public. Should you cover up? Should you not do it at all? People seem to be made uncomfortable by it and, instead of owning their feelings, they shame moms. What’s your take on it?

Posting from an influencer

G.D. – I am certainly not one to want to censor boobs for any reason, especially not my own 😉 Breastfeeding in public should be totally accepted, if not enabled, within society in my opinion!

Public breastfeeding

Lola – I imagine that because everyone nowadays feels entitled to voice their opinion and hoist their own beliefs on others (with regard to how long to breastfeed and where and how to do it), there are probably a lot of people out there eager to tell you, Grey Desire, about what you should and shouldn’t do with regard to selling “porn” content having to do with breastfeeding. What has been the response that you’ve received?

Grey Desire prior to breastfeeding (round 2)

G.D. – The vast majority of responses have been positive. People love bodily fluids and are quite fascinated by breast-milk. It’s not something you encounter often in day-to-day life or in porn so I am frequently met with lots of questions that I am happy to answer. There are of course the occasional trolls who feel the need to tell me I’m a terrible mom for wasting the milk… little do they know breast-milk is a supply and demand cycle. The more my porn demands, the more supply I have. So creating porn with my milk actually produces more milk 😉

Supply and Demand – Grey Desire

Lola – How is your husband (a.k.a. “Stunt Cock”) handling all of this? – The two kids, your career, you posting this content, and also your enormous, lactating breasts? Does he get to have a snack now-and-then?

Some of Grey Desire’s favorite bits.

G.D. – He handles everything like a champ! He has been a great support system and help throughout this adjustment phase. He is also the absolute best at hyping me up when I’m unsure about the changes to my body. However, he is not a boob guy, ass man through and through! So typically he doesn’t give a second thought to my boobs, no matter the size but for some reason, this engorgement phase has at least partially transformed him into a boob guy 😉

Preggo Grey Desire being shaved by “Stunt Cock”

Lola – You’re probably aware that there are a lot of women out there who make content of themselves breastfeeding their babies. Somehow it doesn’t get blocked by the censors on the social media sites, maybe because those sites don’t want to be seen as lactation shaming. But they clearly are making it as sexual content – they dress in suggestive lingerie, wear alluring make-up, etc. What do you think of women including their babies in these sorts of posts?

Just one example of a woman posting her breastfeeding journey on line

G.D. – I put a lot of effort into separating my family from my work. As such, I am a firm believer that as an adult content creator, you should not be posting your children on your social media sites in any capacity. Certainly not sexualizing any act they are doing.

Woman who shares an intimate moment.

Lola – I’ve been told that for many women an orgasm can be an unintended, yet not unwanted, consequence of breastfeeding. Has this ever happened to you?

Breastfeeding orgasm?

G.D. – I have heard of that happening too! It has never happened to me though. Even in a sexual setting, I don’t receive much erotic pleasure from nipple stimulation. So I certainly don’t receive it when I am not in a sexual headspace.

Lola – Do you have any favorite preggo or breastfeeding content creators? If so, who?

Emma Sinclaire capturing the magic

G.D. – I honestly don’t know, they finish pregnancy/lactating too quickly, so we can skip this one!

Emma Sinclaire exuberantly squirts

Emma Sinclaire grabbing a little snack

Lola – Generally, after giving birth, a woman is advised not to have sex for about six weeks, right? So, does your hubby (“Stunt Cock”) jackoff to your photos and vids? Or do you service him in other ways? Ever catch him getting off to anything else? Every couple has some sort of rules about that, I think. What’s yours?

“Stunt Cock” giving a little massage to Grey Desire

G.D. – After both of my pregnancies, we have had a lot of fun during this “sexless” phase! While my holes, and our favorite places, are off limits, it lets us get more creative about other ways to be sexual or simply just intimate together. This time we have been enjoying some creative sexting sessions and taking cumshots on any body part imaginable 😉 It’s also fun for me to read Match, Cinder & Spark aloud while I jerk him off.

Some solo fun with Grey Desire

Lola – Thanks so much for this interview! You’re always such a good sport! And good luck with awards season. Please tell us how all your fans can vote for you!

Don’t forget to vote for Grey Desire!

G.D. – Thank you for some fun, hot-topic questions! & thank you very much for the luck, we shall see! I am currently nominated for MILF Streamer of the Year in the XMA Creator Awards! If you’d like to vote, you can vote unlimited times a day, every day until May 20th at greydesire.com/vote

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy!”

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Lola Wishes to be Worshiped (art by Pulp Brother)

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy!” Lo said, as she handed me a cute little card.  She was wearing her silky, shiny black dress, black heels, and nothing else.  She then sat on the chair, lifted up her legs high in the air, spread them, and said, “Do you want a little appetizer before dinner?”

I took in the sight and said, “Come to think of it, I could use a little snack.”

I got on my knees before her like a supplicant before his god, opened my mouth and put my tongue to her smooth, newly shaved, glistening pussy lips.  I heard her moan on contact.  I then dove in with an enthusiastic and concerted cunnilingal revery.  I could feel her body convulsing and her lower lips salivating.  At one point, I looked up from my coveted corner at the apex of her love and saw that she had pulled out her phone and was looking at something on it as I worshipped her womanhood.  What could it be, I thought.

I continued a little while longer lashing her labia with my tongue before I could stand it no more.  I backed off and stood up.

“Lola,” I said sternly, “what are you so preoccupied with?”

“Don’t stop, Daddio,” she said.  “I’m just reading the Valentine’s cards I got from my fans.”

“Let me see,” I demanded.

She turned her phone around and scrolled through page after page of cumtributes from various men and women.

Tribute by Martin

From Martin with Love

Martin completes the task

A female fan gets off to Lo

I wiped my mouth of her juices and said, “I think it’s time we get going.  Our dinner reservations are for eight.”

She pulled down her black dress and stood up.  I could see on the inside of her knees a few streams flowing down her inner thighs.

She grabbed a hand-towel from the kitchen and wiped up her legs from her calf to her crotch.  “I don’t want to make puddles in my shoes,” she said as she performed the slightly indecorous task.

“No, we can’t have that,” I said.

At the restaurant, we sat at a candlelit table for two with a romantic candle lit, illuminating our faces in the dim light of the room.

I passed Lo my Valentine’s Day card.  I had made it myself.  Instead of “Happy Valentine’s Day,” it read, “Felix Lupercalia!”

“What is this?” she asked.

“Latin.”

“OK.  Why?”

“The origins of Valentine’s Day go back to Roman times.  It was a holiday, much like a Bacchanalia, called Lupercalia.  The priests of the festival would fun through the city naked, carrying small whips known as februa, from which the month gets its name, and they would whip the young women who came out into the streets for exactly that purpose.”

“Why did they do that?”

“It was supposedly part of a fertility ritual.  The women thought that if they were whipped, the purification ritual would increase their chances of getting pregnant.”

“I imagine that if a lot of young women flooded the streets of Rome, bared their asses to have them whipped, that by the end of the day a lot of them would get pregnant, but not because of the whip.”

“You’re probably right,” I said.

“Will you ‘purify’ me when we get home?” she asked.

“Have you been corrupted?”

“So much,” she said, stars in her eyes.

“Then I’ll have to purify you with quite a bit.”

She bit her lower lip.  “I’m having impure thoughts right now.”

Fertility Rites of Rome (art by Lesbian Silk)

Marsupial Position

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After the first Cum Cube companion had left, Lola heard the special knock at the door.  It was still ten minutes before her next appointment.  Lo opened the door cautiously.  It was Meri.

MILF Meri desperate at the bar for some real cock

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry,” Meri replied, “I couldn’t stay away.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” replied Meri, dismissive of Lo’s insults.

“HH calls me that all the time.  I take it as a compliment.  Like, ‘You’re incredible!  You’re amazing!  You have the sexual powers of a goddess.’  You know?”

“Oh, so you think you’re paying me a compliment?”

“It all depends on how you take it.”

“How did you take it?”

“Take what”

“That guy’s cock.  That’s what.”

“Fast and deep, front and back.”

“I figured.  I could hear you cumming from across the street.”

“You could?”

“Of course!”

“And now you want some?”

“Are you going to deny me?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”  Actually, after her first session, which was so much more than she could have imagined, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle any more and was glad for the reinforcements.

“When’s your next appointment?”

Lo looked at her watch.  “He should be here any minute now.”

“I gotta get out of these clothes then.”

“Yes, hurry,” said Lo, helping Meri out of her winter attire.

Soon Meri was in nothing but a white bra, her white nylons, and her red pumps.

“There’s one rule you have to keep.”

“What’s that?”

“You have to remain bent over, facing this wall.  The idea is that there is a certain level of anonymity.  They can’t see you and you can’t see them.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“But I though you vetted them on-line?”

“We were still anonymous there.  They are afraid that if I know who they are, I could blackmail them.”

“Blackmail?”

“Yeah, because of their wives and families and such.”

“Oh, right.”

“And I, well, you know, I just like anonymous fucks anyhow.”

“Oh, I know!”

There was a knock at the door using the secret code.

Lo released the latch and the next patron of the arts entered the sacred space.  He was confronted with not one round, beautiful rump ready to be mounted, but two.  One naked, used, and welcoming, and one, larger than the first, squeezed into the tight-fitting nylons.

Mr. Next Up came in and didn’t say anything.  He just ran his hand over both rears that were confronting him.  He gave Lo’s a little smack and then pulled Meri’s tights down around her knees.  He began fondling both of them – Lo with his right hand and Meri with his left.  He then got on his knees behind Lo and began licking her ass, perineum, and pussy as he continued to fondle Meri, inserting a finger into her pussy and then his thumb into her ass.

Both Lo and Meri were now grinding on him – Lo on his tongue and Meri and his digits.

“Fuck me,” said Lo.

“Fuck me!” insisted Meri.

The girls could hear him unbuckle his pants and then heard him let his pants drop to the floor.  He fumbled with a condom and then he was up against Lo’s rear with his hips.  Lo felt his huge heft – not of his cock, but of his stomach – flop down on her lower back.  He was slapping up against her with his hips.

“Hey, slow down,” said Lo.  “Are you even in?” she asked, moving her right hand behind her, under his giant beer belly, to grab his pecker and point it in the right direction.

When she finally got ahold of it, she was like, “Wait, is this it?”

“I, I, I’m having trouble with the condom,” a deep voice replied.

“Fine, forget the condom,” said Lo.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Lo saw a tiny piece of rubber land on the floor by her feet.  It reminded her of a finger cot she once used in a science class.

She reached behind her again and felt a tiny, protruding, almost pimple-like bump.

“Is this you?” she asked.

“Yes,” came the shameful response.

“Try again,” said Lo, pulling the nub toward her.

His hips again slapped up against Lo’s ass.  Lo shrugged her shoulders.  She couldn’t feel anything.  Especially not after her first romp.  But she wasn’t going to let on.  She moaned and groaned, oohed and aaahed like she was being fucked by King Dong.  Lo’s cum-cooing turned on Meri and Meri moved her right hand under Lo to feel the tips of Lo’s tits as they lilted forward and back, swaying heavily under her as Lo was bent at a right angle, perpendicular to the wall that supported her.

“My turn,” insisted Meri.

They guy pulled “out” of Lo, even though Lo didn’t think he had even penetrated her, and followed suit with Meri.  Meri looked at Lo and Lo made a hand gesture with her thumb and index finger indicating that this guy was no more than an inch at most!

Beer Belly and Meri

Meri’s eyes rolled and then she put on the act.  “Oh yeah.  That’s it.  Fuck me!  Fuck me like the whore I am,” and so on.  She was nearly laughing and getting Lo to giggle as she hammed it up.

“Are you a bad girl?” asked the panting voice from behind her.

“Yes, so bad.”

“How bad are you?”

“I’m a dirty slut.”

“Do you have kids?” he asked.

“Yes, three sons,” she said.

“I can tell.  Your pussy is much looser than Lo’s.”

“Oh, but you fill it up so good,” she said – insulted by his comment, but still feeling superior since she knew that even if she was tight as a virgin, he still wouldn’t feel her due to his microscopic appendage, nor would she feel him.

“I bet you say that to your sons,” he said.

“Sometimes,” replied Meri, playing along, but also, truthfully with regard to her youngest.

“Yeah?  Are you a dirty whore at home?”

“I’m a dirty whore everywhere I go.”

“Tell me about it,” he said.

Lo, at this point, was growing tired with being mere window dressing, or window undressing, however the case may be, even though there were no windows and Lo was already undressed.

She rolled onto her back and then slid underneath Meri’s drooping and swaying tits until Lo was straddled by Meri’s knees.  Mr. Small was smacking away at Meri’s backside without penetrating or pleasuring any part of her pubic area.  Now Lo’s little flower spread just below Meri’s larger petals, allowing for the choice of four portals to pleasure instead of just two, but none of which were within reach of the man’s petite probe.

Meri’s nipples fell to Lo’s open mouth and Lo licked, sucked, and bit gently on them.  Meri flaunted her large, full breasts before Lo’s face, taunting her with her much larger and fuller tits, though, unlike Lo’s perky breasts, Meri’s drooped and sagged.  Lo enjoyed Meri’s matronly mammary offering, but then slid up further in order to kiss Meri’s open mouth as Lo wrapped her legs around Meri’s hips and her arms over her shoulders and held on like a marsupial.

Meri looked down at Lo’s face and laughed.

“I can’t feel him,” she whispered and Lo laughed too.

“Oooh, yeah,” said Lo, mockingly.

“Ahh, fuck me,” said Meri in the same jocular tone.

The two of them giggled as the man furiously flapped his hips forward and back like a large walrus trying to slide headlong on the sand.

“Oh, you’re so much better and bigger than my husband,” said Meri over her shoulder.

“Yeah?” asked the guy.  “Tell me about him.”

“He’s so small, I never feel him.  I haven’t had an orgasm with him in ages!  That’s why I whore around town like this,” she said, giggling in Lo’s ear.

Lo lapped it up and held onto her older, sexy, voluptuous MILF mentor with joy and delight, squirting and dribbling over her lower lips.

“Never brought you to an orgasm?”

“I didn’t say never,” Meri replied to his question.  “But so long ago that I can’t remember it.”

“That’s horrible,” he said, “why not?”

“He’s an enormous man with a small cock and as a result of all his bodily girth and lack of girth where it really matters, he can’t even get close enough to me to enter my pussy.  Every time we have sex, I end up jerking him off with just my index finger and thumb.”

Suddenly, the slapping of fat on ass stopped.  Before either Lo or Meri knew what was happening, the man had pulled up his pants and left the Cum Cube.

Lo looked at Meri, puzzled.

“Why’d he go?” she asked.

“That was Scott,” cackled Meri, squealing with delight, “my husband!”

“Nooooooooooooo!” replied Lo, shocked.

“Yes!”

“How do you know?”

“I know how my husband fucks.  I know the wheezing sound he makes when he’s overexerted himself.  I know the feeling of that tub of lard that flops over his beltline and lands on my lower back before he makes his pathetic attempt to fuck my pussy.  I know how small his dick is – it’s unusually small and almost uniquely so – and how he cannot, no matter how he tries, get it in the hole.  He’s like a horny Chihuahua trying to mount a Great Dane!  And I definitely know that brand of condoms – ‘My Size’ – that he has to import from England.”  She pointed at the condom on the floor and laughed at its pathetic diameter.

“How do you think he. . . I mean, how did he?  I was so careful about who I. . .”  Lo didn’t have the words, she was so shocked.

Meri shrugged her shoulders and said, “He has probably been tracking my internet usage.”

“No!”

“Yeah,” she assured, “he’s been suspicious of my every move ever since our failed attempt to throw him off my scent.  Your little seduction of my husband (and my three sons) seems to have backfired.  I figured he was up to something.  But now I know for sure.  He must have gotten some spyware and downloaded it onto my computer and phone.  He probably knows every pornographic website I click on, my every email and chat message, my every phone call.”

Lo looked dismayed.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“What is there to do?” replied Meri, shrugging her shoulders.  “Go home and face the consequences.”

Just then, there was a loud knock at the door of the Cum Cube.  It was not the secret code knock.  Just an insistent three bangs on the door.  Lo and Meri were startled.

“Just a minute!” Lo chimed, trying to find something to put on.

Lo was wearing just her coat.  Meri, too, put hers on as Lo opened the door.  It was the police.

“What’s going on?” asked Lo, surprised.

“Shut down.”

“What?!”

“You have to shut it down.”

“I have permission from the mayor.”

“This is on orders of the mayor.”

“I don’t understand.”
“Apparently, the press got word of this do-gooder operation of yours and a lot of people are upset about it.”

“Upset?”

“Protesting City Hall.”

“But why?”

The officer shrugged his shoulders and said, “All I know is I got to shut this operation down.”

Lola and Meri were escorted out of the Cum Cube by the men in blue, leaving behind all the paraphernalia that Lo had so meticulously arranged inside her little sex oasis: the Match, Cinder & Spark books, the magazines, the posters.

After the shutdown, the cube didn’t just go away, it was repurposed as a municipal “lactation station,” but in reality, people used it as a masturbation station.  In fact, one handsome crew of six guys sent Lo one of her favorite tribute shots – all six gay or bi men in a circle jerk over her glossy image on the cover of a magazine!

Cum Cube cumtribute pic

Queen of the Primal Horde

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The first customer?  Or is it patron?  Client?  First cummer.  That’s it.  Anyhow, the first guy on Lo’s Naughty List showed up and gave the special secret knock at the door of the Cum Cube.  Lo let him in.  The door swung open and Lo was bent over in her diaphanous panties when he entered.

“Fuck me,” was all Lo said.  She didn’t want small-talk.  She didn’t want to get to know him.  Something about anonymous cock was really turning her on that morning.  Actually, the idea of anonymous cock had been revving her engines all week in anticipation of this.  She loves, loves, loves watching ‘The Milking Table’ vids to get off, as you probably already know.  The milking table, glory hole, dogging at night – the one thing they all have in common is anonymous cock.

The Milking Table Porn

Her eagerness for a fast, furious, filthy fuck was shared by the now naked man standing behind her bent over body.  He wasted no time and actually ripped off the panties.  They presented little resistance since they were mere gossamer-thin lace.  Lo was taken aback by the violent opening gambit.  She mourned the loss of her panties, but only for a split second.  In a split second more, her legs were split as her paramour entered her without hesitation and, on the first thrust, filled her to the hilt!  She braced herself by putting her arms straight out in front of her up against the wall and met his forward motion with an equal and opposite backward motion.  His firm front slapped up against her round rear and she called out with joy and squealed with delight as he rapidly, repeatedly, and roughly rammed his way to her record-setting climax.  She came, gushing all over his rigid rod.  But, it was only the first of many for her.

Lola in her see through black panties

Within a few moments, as he continued to be a battering ram barraging her bum with rhythmic, repetitive, roiling thrusts, she went into a dissociative fugue state.  This is unlike Lo, since she lives to fuck and fucks to live, she usually is very much in the present moment when penetrated by a long, thick prick.  But in this instance, as she braced herself against the steel wall of the Cum Cube and her lock-in lover ravished her, she free associated the cube with a conjugal cell of a prison.  She had never actually seen or been in one, but after her excursion to the prison to run an errand for me which turned into a peep-show for my incarcerated client, she had been dreaming of being the go-to girl for the boys (and girls) behind bars.

In her fugue state she was transported to a conjugal room on prison grounds.  The man behind her was the biggest, baddest, meanest, inmate of the entire state penitentiary system.  He was covered in tattoos on his bulging muscles.  He worked out every day to the extreme due to sexual frustration and a surplus of testosterone.  In her mind’s fantasy, if he behaved as the wardens wished, he was allowed one conjugal visit a month as a carrot, a bribe if you will, so he wouldn’t beat up or kill other inmates.  They allowed him to have one of Lola’s calendars on the wall with a different photo of her for each month.  This gave him the inspiration to change his behavior and moderate his extreme temper.

Whoah!  Lola felt her actual conjugal guest go right in her rear without so much as giving a warning!  After the initial shock, which sent her head spinning, she eased into it and began to enjoy the anal annihilation.

“Will it Hurt?”

Lo returned to her fantasy of the felon.  In her imaginings, he had a back-story.  He was an extreme survivalist who had lived in the woods.  He had an underground lair and whenever he came across hikers or campers, he abducted the females.  He kept them in his cave like a harem.  He had a large wolf-dog that he let mount the women as they wished.  This went on for years until the FBI finally caught up with him and arrested him.  They put him on trial but none of the women would testify against him.  He was like a cult leader to them.  They adored him and voluntarily lived under his protection – some as young as ten or eleven.  He was to them something between Charles Manson and Tarzan.

Captivating

In her wild imaginings, Lola was one of the abductees, but she rapidly climbed up the ranks to become his favorite concubine, Queen of the Primal Horde.  After he was convicted and sent to prison, he railed against his confinement and pined for Lola.  The guards quickly learned that the promise of her pussy was the only thing that would curb his violence.

All the other inmates were forced by the guards to assemble in the small outdoor cages, topped with razor wire, while Lo was escorted past them in her black leather heels, her nylons, her red pencil skirt, her white, cut-off sweater showing a lot of cleavage, and her large, dark sunglasses.  She also wore an extremely large, floppy sunhat that drooped over her face to give an added sense of mystery about her for the inmates.  They all knew what she was there for and they all lined up to see her when she was done too.  They watched as her now ripped nylons dripped with gobs of warm cum and her hair, which had been beautifully and perfectly quaffed, was now messed as if pulled from behind.  Rather than walking with a stride and sashay, as she had when she arrived, she now walked gingerly, as if she still felt the pain of that enormous cock up her ass.

Lola in her big red floppy hat. Art by Starlight Cassette

Speaking of which, now her real-life rear rammer was alternating between Lo’s primary and secondary pleasure promenades.  (I’ll leave it to you, dear reader, to decide for yourself which is which.)  Lola was squirting every time he came out of her V and went to her A.  By now there was a large puddle in which she stood, her feet spread wide and partially submerged.

In Lo’s vivid visualization, the prison guards hatched a plan to provide them a fun distraction from the monotony.  Seeing how all the inmates cat-called Lo, pressing themselves up against the chain link fence as she passed them by, they arranged to have a boxing match between Lo’s lover and any challenger who thought he could go the distance in the ring with him – no gloves, no protective gear, no rules.  The prize – an hour in the conjugal cage with Lola.

The next month and each month afterwards, instead of just rewarding Lo’s beau with the privilege of Lo’s pussy, they made him defend his title and his conjugal prerogative.  Thus, he would meet Lo in the fornication station black-and-blue, bloodied, sweat pouring down his face, chest, arm pits, as he burned with fever in his triumphant entrance.

This elaborate transposition of Lo’s current circumstances brought Lo to many more orgasms – so many that she felt she couldn’t stand it.  She literally couldn’t stand anymore.  And, pent-up with so many months of loneliness, her anonymous associate came too, engorging the condom he wore for their mutual protection.  Oh, how Lo dearly wished he could have cum inside her – front or back – and made her a Christmas cream-pie.  But on orders of the mayor and Board of Health, that was not to be.

Stiff Competition

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Lola didn’t know if she was in trouble, but she was on her way to meet the director of the sperm bank.  She walked down the long hallway, lined with the framed color posters of David Hamilton’s work, and at the end of the hallway she knocked.  “Come in,” she heard a man’s voice say from behind the door.

Art by David Hamilton

Art of making art by David Hamilton

Art by David Hamilton

We shall save for later what transpired behind the director’s closed door after Lola entered it, but for now, let us pick our story up when Lola arrived at the clinic for a third appointment with Terence.

They met in the parking lot, as usual, and Lola was wearing her long white coat, but this time she had a surprise for Terence under it.  Or rather, she had nothing to surprise Terence with under her coat.

Inside the clinic the receptionist again directed them to room #3.  Upon entering, it was Lola who was surprised, for on the walls, in place of the framed posters of Lola’s cream pies, were framed posters of Ellie, the night-shift receptionist who had helped Terence by coaxing his cum out of him (before Lola fulfilled that job) and by reading to him from Match, Cinder & Spark.  Apparently, she found out about the Lola poster substitute and that Terence was “two-timing” her with Lo during the day.  She took liberties and removed Lo’s framed photos, replacing them with her own.

Ellie Mowbray

Ellie cumcovered

One poster was a black-and-white of Ellie, nude, spread eagle with cum covering her hairy pussy.  The other was of her on her knees taking one cock in her mouth and two cocks on either side of her as she stroked them off.  You couldn’t see her face in either of those posters, but, just to make sure there was no mistake, there was a framed photo of Ellie in a salmon colored outfit of shorts and an oversized blouse wearing glasses and smiling or almost laughing.

Ellie Mowbray

Ellie knows how to please three guys at once

Lola thought, “It’s on.”

“Whoa!” said Terence upon seeing the framed photos.

Ellen Mowbray

“You know her?”

“Um, yeah.  She’s the one who used to help me out.  She works the evening shift.”

Lola began to walk out of the room.

“Hey!  Where are you going?” asked Terence, confused.

“To request another room.”

“Why?”

“I find it rude.”

“Rude?”

“Desperate.”

“Desperate?”

“Thirsty.”

“Thirsty?”

“Is there an echo in here?  Look, she’s clearly still salty about what happened with Steve.”

“Steve?”

“Her ex-boyfriend.”

“What happened?”

“Ah, you can read all about it on the blog.  She’s just being petty.”

“Maybe she wanted you to see it.  Maybe it’s for your pleasure?”

“You like?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“I do.”

“Fine,” said Lo.  “Pull out your pud.”  She was very matter-of-fact.  No seduction, no sensuality, no affection.

Terence, who had been looking forward to this for days, was eager to comply.

Lo then opened her overcoat to reveal she was wearing absolutely nothing under it!

“Ellie ever help you like this?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

Lo put on the latex gloves, lubricated, reached down between his legs and began stroking him.  She leaned forward so that her breasts were dangling tantalizingly in front of his face.  She exaggerated her hand motion so that her heavy breasts wobbled and banged up against one-another.  He couldn’t take his eyes off her heaving mounds.  Lo slowly slid her hand down below the shaft of his cock to his large balls.  She massaged them and fondled them, gently playing with them with her fingertips.  He clearly liked it.  Lo didn’t speak this time.  She just watched his facial expressions.  Her focus went from his face to his crotch and back again.  And again.

She then surreptitiously slid her index finger down below his balls to his perineum.  She used a feather-light touch on it for a while and then cautiously, furtively slid her index finger further south to his anus.

“Are you a top or a bottom when you’re with men?” she asked.

“Switch,” he said in a tense whisper.

“Stand up,” she commanded.

He got up out of the chair.

“Turn around,” she ordered.

He complied.

“Bend over,” she said, “and let’s have a full rectal exam.”

He bent over.  She inserted one, then two, then three fingers of her right hand as her left hand reached around and stroked his cock.  He was looking up at the large poster of Ellie on the wall.  Lola was too.  Lo continued her erotic massage, but it wasn’t long before he said, “The cup!  The cup!”

Lo passed him the specimen cup and stroked him as he held the jar in front of his cock and filled it with more of his donation than he ever had before.  His knees buckled and his entire body went tense and spasmed.  He could hardly stand.  He let out multiple calls of Lola’s name.  Then he collapsed back in the chair, his cock still twitching.

He passed the collection cup to Lo who screwed on the lid tightly.

Lo smiled at him as she stood before his depleted body.  The contrast between her tall, strong, lusty, flush and full body standing naked over his weak and limp body couldn’t have been more pronounced.  She removed her gloves and threw them in the special trash bin for contaminated waste.

After he regained some of his vigor, she said, “Now you stand up and let me have the chair.”

He complied.

Lo sat in the chair, put her feet up on it, spreading her legs, and she began making small circular motions over her clit with her right hand.  He watched her intently.  Her movements increased in speed and intensity until she was now rubbing up-and-down in small, rapid strokes.  This technique got more intense still until she was patting and then slapping her wet pussy.  She progressed to inserting one and then two fingers deep in her pussy.  She fingered herself for about a minute until SPLOOSH!  She squirted straight ahead, sprinkling Terence with her holy water.  It was a long, strong, and voluminous stream that soaked him and his clothes.  He didn’t seem to mind.

Ellen Mowbray

Ellie leaving work after a hard day

Ellie Mowbray

Ellie getting off after a hard day at the masturbatorium

Elln Mowbray

Ellie third from right

“This is my body, given for you.”

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“What are those for?”
“These are for later.”

 

Lo is naked in bed.  “Come, Daddy.  Fuck me.”

“No, I’m writing.”

“Oh, please!!!!”

“Later.  Not now.”

“Then be a doll and fetch me a cucumber.”

I get her the vegetable from the kitchen and bring it to her in the bedroom.

“Now give me a condom.”

“Why?”

“You know what sort of stuff they put on this thing?  Insecticides, wax, who knows what!  Put a condom over any phallic-shaped object and you’re good to go.”

“Thanks for the free advice,” I say as I pull a condom out from my nightstand drawer.

“You’re welcome.”

I begin to leave the room.

“You sure you don’t want to get in on this?” she asks as she spreads her legs and puts the cucumber in her hole.”

“I’ll pass on the salad.  I haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

“Well, you’re missing out.  The dressing is homemade.”

I leave the room and return to my computer where I try to continue writing.  My thoughts are disturbed by the moans, groans, and then screams and sighs that I hear my little nymphet producing like a primitive mating call, signaling to all within earshot that she is eager for cock, or pussy, or something.  I believe I read about that as an actual scientific theory in the book Sex at Dawn.  Women are louder than men when it comes to sex because their sounds are an enticement for other men to fuck them, thus increasing the likelihood of fertilization.

Just a fun photo I found featuring Sex at Dawn

That morning I was able to prove the theory true through the scientific method of replication of results.  No sooner had Lola howled to the heavens about how filling and nutritionally valuable her ‘vagetable’ was, than there was a knocking at the door.

Annoyed, I get up from my computer, where I hadn’t been able to write more than a sentence, and I answer the door – Lola’s sex-singing still quite audible in the background.  Standing at the door is a FedEx delivery guy.  He seems to be in his fifties.  Old, tired, rundown.  However, he hears the post-self-coital cooing coming from the bedroom.

“I have a package for delivery.  It needs your signature.”

I look at the package.  I see Lo’s name on it.  “Oh, it’s not for me.  It’s for Lola,” I say, looking up at him.

“Whatever,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.  “I just need a signature.”

I’m feeling particularly wily that morning and so I insist that it be signed by Lola.

“Lo!” I call, “Oh Lo,” I repeat in a sing-song fashion.

“I’m busy!” I hear bellowing down the hall and I also just perceive the sound of her Hitachi Magic Wand buzzing in the background like a distant hedge trimmer.

“There’s a man here to see you,” I say in a loud voice.  I look at the delivery man and give him a knowing wink.

Lo comes stomping down the hallway, barefoot, naked, her inner thighs glistening with the glaze of her last orgasm, her breasts flailing from left to right with each deliberate footfall.

“What?  Who?”

She stands behind me and sees the delivery man.

“Signature, ma’am,” he says, unflustered.

Lo wedges herself in front of me and stands, stark naked in the doorway, grabbing the electronic signature board, scribbling her name and taking the package.

“It’s a big package” she says, not about what is in her hands, but about the delivery man.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says.

“You need something?” she asks.  “A drink?  You look parched.”

“No ma’am,” he says, so politely, “I must be going.”

“OK, too bad,” she says, licking her lips.

He turns and walks to his truck.

“What is that?” I ask Lo of the package.

“The latest from ErosettiPress.”

“Oh really?!” I say, excited.

“Yep,” she says, tearing open the package.

She pulls out the very handsome hardcover book: The Anthology of Erotic Narrative, Volume I: Fetish.  “Look!  Our story!”  She shows me the chapter, “Crisscross,” which includes a sexy illustration of Lola, on her back, as sushi is displayed upon her for a nyotaimori feast.

“Dante Remy, the editor, had to condense it from the original,” she adds by way of explanation.

“I frequently have that problem – too much length.”

“Not with me you don’t,” she says.  “Oh!  And look!  They even included a little blurb about us!”

She reads from the bio page:

 

H.H. & Lola, based in the US, push the boundaries of conventional relationships, captivating their readers and followers with their unapologetic exploration of desire and the endless possibilities of a love that knows no limits.  Their large erotic cult following includes tribute artwork and photos from readers, often displaying their books in explicit context.  These fan images and art are published along with the stories in their books, and on their active blog and social media presence.  They are at the center of a community of erotic art and expression.  You can engage with them on their blog site mysexlifewithlola.com and their X and Instagram social media.

 

“What do you think?” she asks me.

“You didn’t write that?” I ask her.

“No, silly!”

“Well, I like it.”  I take the book from her hands to read it over once again.  “I especially like the ‘unapologetic’ bit.”

“Yes, that describes you,” she said, not without a hint of irony.

“And the ‘large erotic cult following.’  That’s nice.”

“Yep – and true.”

“He says we are ‘the center of a community of erotic art and expression.’”

“Well, aren’t we?”

“I guess.  I just never thought of us like that.”

“I’ve thought of me like that,” she remarks.

“Of course you have.  Too bad we have since been banned from X and Instagram.  If the Marquis de Sade lived today, he wouldn’t be locked up in the Bastille, he’d be banished from social media!”

“You keep on having grandiose thoughts of you and Sade and the evil electronic geniuses aligned against you, I think I’ll go back to my regularly scheduled programming,” she says, taking the book and walking down the hall.

“Hey,” I call to her.

She stops and turns around.  “Yes?”
“What’s put you in this Saturday morning self-abuse mood?”

“Do I need a reason?”
“No, but you usually have one.”

“If you must know, I’ve been getting a lot of fan mail ever since we posted the interview with Hani Miletski.”

“Totally Taboo?”
“Yeah, that one.”

“What sort of fan mail?”

“Why don’t you cum and read it with me?  I mean, wait, reverse that.”

“Very funny.”

I follow her down the hall to the bedroom where she has the cucumber, her Hitachi, and her laptop all spread out over the bed.

She turns the computer screen toward me and shows me an image from a female fan.  It is of a young, mid-thirties woman, in bed, a towel wrapped around her hair as if she had just got out of the shower, with her two children, a girl and a boy, suckling at her breasts.  Above and behind her, on the wall, are mounted two framed paintings from the blog.  One of MILF Meri and her son, the other of Lola as a little girl with her panties over her head, standing naked and defiant.  Both artworks were made by our dear Ukrainian friend Sergii.

Pam at home breastfeeding with art by Sergii above her

“And who is this?” I ask.

“Her name is Pam and she’s a housewife raising twins – a boy and a girl.  She doesn’t believe in setting an age for ending breastfeeding.  She told me she’s inspired by Sophie Rose.”

“Who?”

“Oh, never mind.  It’s a movement to breastfeed kids later into life.”

“That’s a movement?”

“Yeah, but she’s on the fringes of that movement?”

“What’s that mean?”

“She is advocating for breastfeeding-self-care.”

“Now you’ve lost me.”

“She enjoys a wank-spank under the covers while the twins are latched onto her tits.”

“And that’s a movement?!”

“Well, not yet, but she is hoping to make it one.”

“You find all kinds,” I said in astonishment.

“It’s not all that uncommon,” remarked Lo, rather clinical about it.  “Pam discovered, like a lot of women who breastfeed, that it is or can be stimulating.  Sexually stimulating.  She got all tingly between her legs.  One day, at the airport no less, she was breastfeeding and, to her complete and utter surprise. . .”

“You mean udder surprise,” I suggest.

“Just full of wit this morning, aren’t ya, ole man?  She suddenly squirted, right out of the blue, right there in public!  She realized later that it was probably a combination of being sexually frustrated – she was going to see her husband who was stationed across the country for work – and the excitement of having her breasts exposed in public where she was getting a lot of stares.”

“Don’t they have special rooms for that?”

“I don’t know,” says Lo, returning the cucumber to its holster inside her as she places the Hitachi on her clit and looks at the photo again.  “But now she does it all the time.  She says it creates the most intense orgasms and bonding experience she’s ever felt.  Now she’s trying to spread the word.  That’s why she wrote to me.  When she saw the interview with Melitski, she thought that our blog would be a good way to publicize the masturlactation method, as she calls it.”

“A portmanteau of ‘masturbation’ and ‘lactation’ I assume?”

She is too fully engaged in her own masturbation to answer me.

Without looking at me, she simply says, “Suck my tits, Daddy.”

I comply, leaning over to latch onto her left breast while my right hand fondles and pulls on her right nipple.  She instantly climaxes – her clenching pussy shooting the cucumber straight out of her pussy like a torpedo!  That is followed by a tsunami of squirt.

“Holy FUCK!” she says, as she apparently surprised even herself.

“Feel better, Love?” I ask.

She laughs to herself.

“What?” I ask.

“As I was cumming, I had the weirdest thought.”

“What was that?” I ask, realizing that we have been in the realm of weird for quite some time.

“I wondered if all those millions of images of the Madonna and Child – you know, of the Virgin Mary and Jesus as an infant at her breast – I wondered if in all of them, if the Holy Mother is in the state of orgasmic bliss.  Isn’t that weird?  I mean, wouldn’t that be something?”

Mary and Baby Jesus

“Only you could have a theophany to put you over the edge.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to write.”

“What are you going to write?” she asks, skimming through images of the Madonna and Child.

“All about you.”

Caravaggio – Madonna and Child with St. Anne

Fan Photo