Monday morning and, as I was putting on my suit and tie for work, Lo was masturbating herself silly in the bed beside me.
“Planning your vacation with Collin?” I asked sarcastically in between her orgasms as she caught her breath.
“You could get in on this, if you wanted, Daddio,” she said, spreading her pussy lips for me to see.
“Someone around here has to go to work,” I said, a bit bitter.
“You only need a minute,” she said, trading barb for barb.
The truth was that I did want her. I wanted her terribly. I’m sure she could see that too. But I was still sore that she was going for a week, without me, to be with Collin at one of his enormous houses up in the country. I was in a state of angry agitation. Denying her cunt my conjugal company was the only corporal punishment I could inflict upon her. But, I must admit, after her fifth or sixth orgasm, it did seem rather ineffectual. The best I could do was say, “Strip the bed of those soaked sheets and remake it before you leave. Thanks.”
With that I left. No, not even a kiss goodbye. I was a real curmudgeon.
As it happened, Jim, Lily’s husband, couldn’t go that week either. Just the two ladies, Lily and Lola, were going up to the country to visit Uncle Collin for a week. Jim and I had planned on joining them Saturday morning and then we’d drive back to town in two cars on Sunday.
That night I got a call from Lo saying she and Lily had arrived and it was “Amazing!” We didn’t chat long because she said they were “busy” – leaving me to wonder what they were busy doing, but Lo promised to email me in the morning.
Illustration of HH and Lo by LittleGem of purplesgem.com
The light was red. The wallpaper was red. The tablecloths were red. And the candles were red. A live jazz trio played at the other end of the bar. We sat in plush, tufted red leather chairs drinking martinis. Lo’s bare knees were exposed, her legs crossed, her short skirt inching its way up her thighs. She looked at Jim with wide eyes as he told us about the plans for their wedding which was only a couple of weeks away. I sat across from Jim and Lo, nursing my drink as they talked animatedly. They were fond of each other. I was enjoying the beauty of the two of them as the liquor transformed the dive bar to a dreamscape.
“I can’t believe that in little more than two weeks, you two will be married!” said Lo, grabbing Jim’s hand as she said it. “Married!” she repeated.
“Are you going to have a bachelor party?” I asked. “A big send-off to say goodbye to your days of freedom?”
“I already had it,” he said.
“What?!” asked Lo, surprised. “When? Tell us!”
Jim told us that the previous week he had gone back to his hometown to spend a long weekend with his college buddies fishing at a remote lake.
“Fishing?” asked Lo, skeptically.
“Yeah,” said Jim.
“No strip clubs?” she asked.
“No,” said Jim.
“Oh, I get it, they came to you at the cottage.”
“No. No strippers. Nothing like that. It wasn’t a weekend in Vegas. It was just friends spending time together. Fishing.”
“Well,” said Lo, “shouldn’t you have a proper last hurrah?” As she said it, she indicated with her tongue what she had in mind.
“Where’s Lily?” I interjected. As much as I enjoyed seeing Lo seduce Jim, I also wanted to give him a moment to think it over. He seemed so much like a deer in the headlights.
“She’s in New York. Actually, for her bachelorette party.”
“Oh yeah?” I said, very matter-of-factly. “What’s she doing for it?”
The trumpet player had just ramped up his virtuosic solo and was now growling with the horn. I looked over at him for a moment. My eyes returned back to Jim. He was in agony. He looked at me. He couldn’t look at Lo. He said, “She’s with her friends.”
“What’s she doing? Having a party with her girlfriends from college?”
“No,” said Jim. “She’s with. . .” he paused, “she’s with her guy friends. She’s having her ‘last hurrah.’ A crazy orgy or slut-fest with every guy she’d slept with when she lived there.”
“You’re kidding!” said Lo, putting her hand on Jim’s hand and laughing.
“No, I’m not!” he said, frustrated, embarrassed, angry.
“Well, good for her,” said Lo. “I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic to you or anything, but fuck! Good for her, you know. Fuck the patriarchy!”
Jim laughed, despite himself.
“But if you didn’t get your slut-fest for your bachelor party, then let’s make it happen tonight,” she said, sliding a little closer to him.
I suppose now is as good a time as any to inform you, dear reader, that none of this was done without Lily’s knowledge. In fact, it was done with her blessing, her planning even. She thought that there was no one better than Lo to help Jim with his self-esteem and jealousy sprouting from their having an open relationship in which only one party had any traffic entering her open door.
Lily thought it best that Jim not know that she was in cahoots with this plan and allow him to enjoy the feeling of seducing Lo, or being seduced by her.
Jim looked to me as if to ask my permission.
“No pressure,” I said, “but I’m fine with it if you are.”
We paid our tab and I drove the two of them back to our place. They sat in the back seat, making out. This was a very familiar scenario for Lo and me by now. I could see her reach down for his cock.
“Lo,” I said as I pulled up to our place, “we’re home.”
I shut off the car. Lo held Jim’s hand and led him in.
“You two have fun,” I said as I fixed myself a whiskey on the rocks.
I listened as best I could, but I didn’t hear anything. I picked up a book and began reading on the couch in the living room. Lo is usually louder than that, I thought.
About twenty minutes later I heard the squeak of the shower knobs being turned. I thought for sure I’d hear the sound of Lo’s voice soon to follow.
Not only did I hear her voice, but I saw her lovely image as she walked into the living room wearing only one of my old t-shirts.
Lola in a T-shirt
“What brings you out here, dear?” I asked, looking up from my book.
She sat close to me and, in a whisper, she said, “He came.” She was disappointed.
“What?”
“Yep. In the car.”
“Oh, Lo,” I said in a tone of sympathy for her loss.
“I hardly even touched him. I just rubbed him maybe once or twice.”
“And that’s it. He’s done for the night?”
“He’s very embarrassed. He’s taking a shower now to clean up. He thanked me, but I think he wants to go home.”
“Hmmm,” I said, taking it all in. “I guess I’ll take him home then.”
“But Daddio,” she said as she reached to unbuckle my belt, “what about me?”
“Lo.”
“I’m the do-gooder here who’s left high and dry.”
“More like all wet.”
Lola Reverse View
She fumbled with my belt buckle. “Please, Daddy. Let me have it.”
“Lo.”
“Please. Just one look.”
“Fine.”
She took out my hard member. She lowered her mouth on it.
“Lo!”
“Just one lick.”
“You said ‘look,’” I rebuked her.
As I did so, she eagerly took me deep in her mouth. She slid her lips off my rod and then straddled me on the couch, riding my cock up and down. “Just one. . .”
She wanted just one something. She was going at it when Jim returned, dressed, from the bedroom. He sat down in the chair across from us. He watched Lo rise and fall and she looked at him seductively. She grabbed her tits and flicked her nipples with her fingers.
She maneuvered me so that I was now sitting behind her and she was reverse cowgirl on me, looking right at Jim with her legs spread. “Come here,” she commanded to him.
He obeyed, walking right up to her, between my spread legs and hers. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down to give her a kiss.
I could feel Lo’s pussy clench on my cock and I knew what was coming next.
“You might want to step back a bit,” I said to Jim too late.
Lo was moaning and rubbing her clit as she lifted up off my cock and squirted, soaking Jim’s slacks.
“Jim,” she said, when she regained her senses, “just stay the night.”
“I appreciate the offer. . . and everything,” he said politely, “I really do, but I think I should just get going home.”
“OK,” I said, fumbling to replace my protruding member into my underwear, zip up, and buckle my belt uncomfortably.
Lo had left the room to get some paper towels and was on all fours on the hardwood floor, her ass partially exposed, cleaning up the puddle. She looked up at Jim. “You’re welcome to stay, but if you want to go, HH will drive you.”
“It’s ok, I’ll walk,” he said, “It will be good for me to get some air.”
Lo got up and hugged him, and I said, “See you at the wedding.” I immediately regretted those parting words.
He let himself out and Lo cuddled up next to me on the couch. “Poor Lily,” she said.
“Yeah,” I concurred.
“You don’t know the half of it,” said Lo.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, not only did he cum after only two strokes, but he’s tiny.”
Tiny Dicks Welcome
“You only saw him after he came.”
“Daddy, I’ve seen a lot of cocks in my day. I know a tiny cock when I see one,” she said as she lifted her pinky in the air and said, “Smaller than this.”
“Well, at least they love each other,” I said.
“Love can fill a lot of gaps in a relationship,” said Lo, “but there’s one hole that needs more than just love.”
“What a true romantic you are.”
Reminder – Order Your Copy of Match, Cinder & Spark today!
[Note: Continued from the Thanksgiving Day story, Very Thankful]
“Do you remember what happened last night?” I asked her as we were getting dressed in the morning.
“Yes,” she said. She slipped one leg and then the other into her pink thong panties.
“Everything?”
“What are you talking about? We went out for Thanksgiving dinner and then we came back to the hotel.”
“Right. And then what happened?”
“We went to bed.”
“That’s all you remember?”
Now she was getting agitated with my questions and feeling at a disadvantage.
“Why don’t you tell me,” she said as she adjusted her bra.
“We came home. You were more intoxicated than I thought. I guess those after dinner drinks were strong.”
“They were. But I wasn’t drunk.”
“To hell you weren’t. You barely got up the one flight of stairs to the room.”
“Pshaw,” she scoffed.
“And then we got in here and you quickly got naked.”
“Nothing unusual there.”
“And you were lying on the bed fondling and fingering yourself, begging me to have you.”
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” she said, now buttoning up her blouse.
“But I said, ‘Lo, I think you had too much to drink. I don’t think you can consent.’”
“And?”
“Well, if you don’t remember, then I was right.”
“I’m just seeing if your recollection is the same as mine.”
“Yeah, sure. Anyhow, you were very insistent and very horny.”
“Did you want me?”
“Of course! I always want you.”
“Did you have me?”
“Keep listening and I’ll tell you. I again declined your offer, saying you were too inebriated, but you were your usual demanding self. To stall for time and to get ready for bed, I told you to wait for me while I brushed my teeth. When I came out of the bathroom, I found you asleep, naked on the bed, face down, ass up. I was naked at this point too and I got next to you.”
“Were you hard, Daddy?”
“Yes I was hard.”
“For me?”
“Don’t go getting yourself all excited and wet. We have a brunch date to get to.”
She pouted, sat on the chair and put her hand down her shorts. “Go on,” she said.
“I was next to you and you made a half-hearted attempt to grab my cock. You whispered, ‘Have me,’ before falling back into a slumber. I grabbed the moisturizing lotion from the nightstand, slathered it over my cock. I had every intention of jacking off to your naked body.”
Now she was rapidly fingering herself under her shorts and panties.
“I like where this is going,” she said.
“I began to do that, but you looked so good that I wanted to kiss you. I got on top of you. You were still face down, so I began lightly kissing your back, shoulders, and neck. As I was positioned over you like that, my cock found its way between your round ass cheeks. It was all lubricated and so I began sliding it back and forth, swiping it like a charge card through your tight buttocks. You hardly moved. I continued until I couldn’t take it anymore and I came on your back.”
As I told her this confession, she came, squirting through her panties and shorts, dripping down her thighs onto the carpeted floor. I got a towel for her.
“That was hot, Daddy,” she said as I, on my knees, wiped her up from her feet to her crotch.
“I had to clean you up with a warm, wet washcloth last night, much like I’m doing now.”
“You’re so good to me, Daddy,” she said as she slipped out of her clothes and into the shower where she went at it again, self-stimulating in the steamy mist.
When she got out, she sat naked on the bed and put on her sexy tank-top T-shirt. She reached over to the nightstand where she picked up the pack of cards that was sitting on it. She had brought it with her on vacation. Was she hoping to get a fun game of strip poker going? I don’t know. She pulled out the Ace of Spades and held it between her legs. She looked up at me with her mischievous smile and a glimmer of wickedness in her eyes and said, “You know what day it is today, Daddy?”
“No, Lo, I don’t,” I said, wondering where she was going with this.
Last I remembered, Lo had engaged in a lengthy session of self-service before falling asleep between Robert and me. When I woke in the morning, she was sound asleep, her back toward me, and Robert had his hands around her waist. I was turned toward them, my arm drooped over her side, my hand fondling her breast, and my cock rigid and eager for more attention.
I carefully extricated myself from the bed, found a robe and quietly went to the kitchen to make some coffee.
As I sat down to take my first sip, Lo suddenly appeared in the kitchen wearing one of Roberts t-shirts and nothing else. She was carrying a bundle of clothes.
“Here,” she said, passing the clothes off to me.
“And a good morning to you too,” I said sarcastically.
“Get dressed.” They were my clothes.
“What?”
“Get dressed. You have to get out of here.”
I was perplexed. “What do you mean I. . .”
“Imogen is still sleeping. When she wakes up, she can’t find you here. Remember, she thinks I’m Robert’s girlfriend and you’re just Robert’s friend. You have to go home.”
“Are we still putting on that little ruse?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, if that’s the case, why don’t I just crawl into bed with Imogen?”
Lo gave me an angry look.
“Ok, Ok,” I said. “I’ll get dressed and go.”
She gave me a quick peck on the cheek to show her appreciation. “Don’t worry, Daddy,” she said, “I will make it up to you.”
My cock must have liked her tone because it immediately popped up like a little puppy who just heard the treats bag open.
“Nope, none of that now,” said Lo curtly, before turning tail and returning to the bedroom with Robert.
I dutifully got dressed and went home to shower, have more coffee, and nurse my hangover.
Sometime later I got a call from Lo. She sounded out of breath.
“Lo?”
Pause. “Yeah?”
“Are you ok?”
Pause. “Yeah.”
“Are you at Robert’s?”
Pause. “Yeah.”
“Are you fucking?”
“Yes, Daddy, he’s behind me, fucking my ass now. What would you like us to do next?”
I won’t deny that I was titillated by the call, but I was also furious. I was home, hard-up and hungover, while she was being banged by her backdoor man.
“I want you to tell me you love me.”
Long pause. “I – I – I love you, Daddy,” I heard.
I put the phone down for a moment and hurriedly grabbed my Stoya Fleshlight, some lube, and picked up the phone again. Lo was screaming. I could hear Robert smacking her ass.
“Daddy, I love you,” she repeated.
I slid the prosthetic vagina down on my cock. I held the phone with my left hand and slid the contraption up and down with my right. I listened to Lo getting fucked. She was calling out, “Harder. Harder. Deeper. Cum in my ass. Cum deep in my ass.” As she was saying that, I thought of how Robert came in her mouth after fucking her ass yesterday.
“Daddy,” she said into the phone, “I want him to cum in my ass. Do you want him to cum in my ass too?”
My eyes were shut. I was vividly imagining her bent over his dresser, Robert behind her, looking at her tits swinging in the mirror as he fucked her from behind. I pictured her left hand holding the phone to her ear and her right hand moving back to her ass, pulling her right cheek to spread as wide as she could go for him to bury his long dick in her bum. Maybe she was fingering her hole as well.
I heard her ramping up, going into the overture to her orgasm.
I slid Stoya’s cunt up and down more vigorously and I could feel my cuckolded cum rising to the surface. Lo launched into her operatic aria and I could hold out no longer. I came and came deep inside Stoya as Robert came deep inside Lola.
A perfect triple play!
After we all were able to bask in the beauty of the trifecta, Lo stayed on the phone with me as Robert went to clean up.
“Did you like that, Daddy?” she asked.
“You. Are. Amazing,” was all I could say.
“Do you like seeing him make me cum, Daddy?”
“I didn’t see you,” I said, confused.
“I meant yesterday.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “You’re a dirty, dirty girl.”
“Am I bad?”
I changed the topic, fearing she’d get all riled up again. “Is Imogen still there?” I asked.
“Oh her? No. She woke up, I think a little embarrassed and very hungover, and we called her a cab. She only had fragments of memory from last night, but she asked me to say something nice to you.”
“Oh, and what was that?”
“She really just said, ‘Say something nice to him.’”
I laughed and she did too. Apparently all was forgiven. Nothing absolves me of my transgressions like Lola’s seducing men to sodomize her.
“Come,”
I heard her yell from the bedroom down the hall as I walked into the house
after a long Friday at work. She might
have been saying “Cum!” to a lover.
There’s never any way to tell from the sound of her voice – only on the
page.
I
cautiously walked down the long hall to the bedroom. What would I find?
The
door was open a crack. I peeked in. She was naked, on her tum, her round rump
nicely illuminated by the setting sun.
Her legs were bent at the knees and her bare feet dangled up in the air,
twined around each other. In her hand
she held her phone.
“Come
in, Daddio,” she said without turning her eyes from the screen in front of
her.
I
walked in and removed my jacket and tie.
“What
you up to?” I inquired.
“I
bet you’d like to know.”
“That
is why I asked,” I said flatly as I removed my shirt and undid my belt.
“Get
naked, get hard, and get in me,” she commanded.
“I’m
already hard,” I said.
“As
you should be,” she replied, moving her hand to her mouth, licking her fingers
and then moving her hand to her ass and circling her wet fingers around her
special spot.
“Oh,”
I commented, “You want it like that?”
“No,
Daddio,” she said, “I’m just enjoying myself.”
Always
coy when it comes to her ass. Always for
someone else, or for her own pleasure, but never for me.
I
got behind her and tried to look at her phone by leaning forward over her back
and seeing over her shoulder.
“Get
up there and fuck me,” she instructed, her finger still rounding her sweet spot
as I slid into her puss. “I’ll tell you
what I’m looking at.”
I
did as she said and she told me that a fellow blogger, a woman named TJ, wrote
to us saying, “I love reading your blog.
It gets me so wet.”
“Really?! Do I know this TJ?” I asked as I thrusted
harder.
I
slowed down a bit trying to remember which erotic blog that was.
“Don’t
stop!” Lo said as her hand grabbed the girth of my cock and she pushed her ass
back into my hips, bouncing off of my bare bodkin.
I
resumed my powerful, pleasurable, pelvic pounding.
“Look,”
she said, putting her phone up on her back for me to read the email. It said:
I love how
accepting you are of Lola’s magnificent sexuality. You guys seem to have ‘it’
don’t you? I wish I could masturbate as openly as you do, Lola. I feel
self-conscious, like an addict or something. But I fucking love fucking myself.
. . it’s the best. I am more autosexual than anything else I think. Keep
celebrating each other.
Fan mail like that makes it all
worth it. Well, that’s not completely
true. I know that I would be writing all
this whether no one read it, or only one person read it – Lola. But knowing that others read it, enjoy it,
and get off to it is the icing on the cake.
Speaking
of icing, as I read the email, Lo began to climax as one hand worked her ass
and the other, from underneath, worked her clit. Her Kegel muscles contracted and I was
squeezed out of her as she curled into a convulsing, throbbing ball, squirting
uncontrollably. The more she pushed her
knees up to her breasts in a tightly bound fetal position, the more she sprayed
the bed and my knees. I lifted up her
phone to prevent it from being ruined by the liquid.
TJ, author and model of The Lustful Empress, getting off to Lo
“Fuuuu-uuuuck,”
she groaned as the last bit of lady juice spurted out of her.
When
she regained control of her limbs, she slowly got up and pulled the soaked
sheets with her, dropping them in the laundry basket. “I’ll clean up, Daddy, but right now I have
to get ready.”
“Ready
for what?” I asked, holding my throbbing, hard rod in my hand.
“My
date.”
“Date?”
“With
Robert. I told you, didn’t I?”
I
just looked dumbfounded.
“We’re
going to the movies.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“And
what are you seeing?”
“The Favourite.”
“Is
he your favorite now?” I asked, demoralized.
“No,
Daddio, she said, caressing me and looking up at me with those beautiful big
brown eyes. “That’s the name of the
movie. It’s a period piece.”
“Really? Not a porno?”
“Well,
I hear it has a lot of woman-on-woman sex scenes.”
“I
knew it!”
“But
that’s not why we’re going to see it.”
“You’re
going to see it to have sex in a crowded theater.”
“Oh,
Daddy, you always impute to me the most debased of motives.”
“So
why are you going to see it?”
“It’s
historical. It has great sets, acting,
and costumes.”
“And?”
“And
probably to fuck in a dark theater.”
“Don’t
get caught.”
“But
getting caught is at least half the fun.
Does that make you jealous?” she asked, as her hand stroked my hard
cock.
“So
you’re leaving me home alone on a Friday night?”
“Not
totally alone,” she said, “You have TJ.”
“Who?”
“TJ,
the woman from the blog.”
“Oh,
right,” I said to my consolation prize.
Lola
made the bed and I watched her tits droop as she bent over to tuck in the
sheets. Her naked body moved like a
delightful dance as she unfurled the blanket.
“Look,”
she said, as she hopped back in the bed and took up her phone. I sat next to her. Her left hand stroked my hard erection up and
down as she scrolled through TJ’s blog with her right hand.
We
read and looked at the photos together.
Lola
TJ of The Lustful Empress
“She
sounds like she could be your twin sister,” I said as I read about how TJ
becomes aroused by her own naked body.
“Hold
this,” she said, giving me the phone.
Now,
with her right hand she was stroking her pussy and I scrolled through the
blog.
“Oh
boy,” I said, “You want her.”
Lo
bit her lower lip.
“Lo,”
I cautioned, “You just made the bed. You
don’t want to. . .”
Before
I could finish my sentence, she had jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom,
barely making it to the toilet before releasing her ejaculate all over the tile
floor with a scream.
When
she had regained her composure, she got some paper towels and got on her hands
and knees to clean up the mess.
“What
time is your movie?”
“Eight,”
she called back. “But we’re meeting for
drinks first.”
“Well,
you’re going to be late,” I told her.
She
jumped in the shower and I continued to look at the blog, hard up.
“Hey,”
she called to me, “you’re not allowed to cum.
You know that, right?”
“I
still don’t understand how that is fair,” I said, taunting her.
I
got up and looked at her in the shower.
“Get!”
she screamed. She hates when I see her
in her shower cap.
“How
is it fair that you get to cum twice and then go on a date with another man and
I’m not allowed any autoerotica myself?”
“First,”
she said from behind the shower curtain, “it’s not autoerotic if you use
someone else’s pictures. Second, you
didn’t count the three times I came before you got home.”
“Lo,
now you’re just. . .”
“And
third,” she cut me off, “this has nothing to do with fairness. It has everything to do with me.
What I want. What I allow
you. Got that? Don’t forget it.”
Lo
jumped out of the shower and hastily dried off before slipping into a blue
dress and blue heels. No panties.
“You’re
going to be cold like that,” I cautioned.
“I’m
planning on things heating up quickly,” she said.
Soon
enough she was out the door, leaving me alone.
I
scrolled through TJ’s blog, which I recalled I had seen before, and I thought
to myself, “She said no cumming, but she didn’t say no edging.”
I
spent about an hour going through each and every post before I thought to
myself, “If I don’t stop this right now, I’m going to explode!”
Stoya Left, Lola Right
In
order to take the edge off, I switched to photos of Lo, which are always fair
game, and I pulled out the old Stoya Fleshlight. Lubing up Stoya and myself, I imagined what
Lo was up to with Robert. I didn’t even
need to see Lo’s photos. Soon enough I was
cumming and cumming hard and deep in Stoya’s pussy, just thinking about Lo in a
dark theater, legs spread, and Robert discretely moving his hand up her smooth
thigh until reaching that wet pussy, pulsating with anticipation. Gently he would rub and flick her pussy lips,
clandestinely making her cum. I pictured
her hands gripping the seat and her upper teeth biting down on her bottom lip
to prevent the scream from escaping her mouth.
That was enough to bring me over the edge and release me into a deep
sleep.
Recently
our financial situation improved. In no
small part, Lo’s getting a full-time job has certainly contributed to our
recovering fiscal health. Now that we
aren’t always scraping by to pay the rent or put food on the table, we actually
have a little bit of money that we can set aside for a rainy day. So, trying to be the responsible adults we
pretend to be, we created a joint savings account. I know, nothing says sexy like money in the
bank. Walking home from the bank,
feeling a sense of accomplishment, I said to Lo, “We’ll call our account ‘The
Community Chest.’”
“Community
Chest! – That’s what they called me in college!” she blurted out with a
smile.
I thought she was
joking and said as much.
“No,” she said,
“that’s really what they called me.
There’s a long story there that I’ll tell you when we get home,” she
said, grabbing hold of my hand and pressing her palm into mine.
When we got home,
I started to make myself a sandwich in the kitchen. “So,” I said to her, “what’s the story from
college?”
“What story?” Lo
asked, playing dumb. She loves to tease
me and see that she has succeeded in piquing my interest.
“You know what
story,” I said, taking out the pickles, “the ‘Community Chest’ story.”
She reached down and
slid her hands from her waist up and under her bust, pushing upwards so that
her cleavage bulged out of the neckline of her black tank top. “You like, Daddy?”
“Yes,” I said,
“but I want to hear the story.”
“Kiss them,” she
instructed.
I wagged my pickle
at her (literally, no pun), and said, “Look here, Lo, if you’re trying to get
me to hop in the sack with you and forego this lovely lunch I’ve just made,
you’re in for some disappointment.”
“I’ll be your
lunch,” she said, standing up, unzipping her skirt and letting it fall to the
kitchen floor. She stood in her little
black lace panties and her black boots.
“Lola,” I said
plaintively.
“You know,” she
paused and thought and then said, “I’m hungry too.” She sauntered over to the fridge like a stripper
on the stage. She bent over, putting her
ass in the air, standing on her tiptoes, and took a long look at the
contents. “I know what I want to eat,”
she said, turning and walking toward me.
What is there to eat?
“Lo. Lo, I see that look in your eye. Lo.”
It was no use. She dropped to her knees on the kitchen
floor. She undid my belt, unbuttoned and
unzipped my jeans, pulled them down, pulled out my hard cock and filled her
mouth with meat.
Snack
“Fuck my face,”
she asked, looking up at me. “Put your
hands here,” she said, moving my hands to her head, “and push me, use me, fuck
my mouth.” I followed instructions. “Harder, Daddy!” she said before I forced her
back on my rod. I had passed the point
of no return and soon I was filling her up as she ravenously swallowed all I
gave her. It all happened in the matter
of a few moments. Then she got up, took
my plate with the sandwich that I had so carefully prepared, and sat at the
table, taking a big bite of it.
“Mmmmmm,” she said, “can I have a glass of seltzer to go with
this?”
“Lo! That was my
sandwich!” I rebuked as I pulled up my jeans.
“I just wanted a
bite. Here you have it.”
“No, it’s yours,”
I said dejectedly as I got her a drink.
“No, I feel
bad. Have half.”
“Fine.” I sat across from her and we ate. “Now,
tell me the story.”
“Well,” she began,
chewing, “you remember Ryan?”
“No, I don’t
remember Ryan.”
“Ryan, the boy
from college.”
“I’m going to need
a little more to go on than that. There
were a lot of boys from college.”
“I told you about
how one night after watching a movie in a friend’s dorm, he and I crashed there
on the sectional couch.”
“I vaguely recall
that.”
“You just want me
to tell you again.”
“Indulge me.”
“Well, we got to
talking in hushed tones about sex.”
“And who initiated
that topic?” I asked sarcastically.
“He was curious
about my masturbatory practices,” she said, ignoring my question. “I told him that I jill it once a day – at
least.”
“Oh yes, I
remember that story now.”
“Well, there’s
more to it than that. Come to the bedroom
and I’ll tell you the rest.”
I followed her
sexy ass to the bedroom, got naked, and climbed into bed with her.
She got on her
back and spread her legs. Putting her
hand down there, under the covers, she continued in breathy tones. “I was masturbating under the covers, like I
am now, as I talked to him in the dark.
I imagined that he was masturbating too.
I asked him about his girlfriend – someone I didn’t really know. He said that he wasn’t too happy with her and
I asked him why he didn’t break up with her.
He said, ‘because she gives really good blowjobs.’ I said, ‘Oh yeah? Tell me how you like it.’ He told me about what she does, adding, ‘but
I don’t think she really enjoys it.’”
Lo was pulling on
her nipples now and squirming in the sheets.
“I was sad to hear
that.”
“I’m sure you were
broken up about it,” I added full of sarcasm.
“I told him, ‘You
should try getting a blowjob from someone who really enjoys it.’”
“Did you give him
one?”
“I really really
wanted to.”
“I’m sure you did.”
“But he was too shy.”
“Too shy?!”
“Or
something. Maybe he felt bad cause of
the girlfriend. Whatever the reason, I
didn’t get to give it to him. I just
masturbated till I came. After that
night, there were many nights when I’d be in my dorm, chatting on Facebook, and
he’d pop up and quickly turn the chat into something sexual.”
“So you had
virtual sex with him?”
“You could say
that.”
“But that still
doesn’t explain how you got the nickname.”
“I’m getting
there. Give me a minute,” she said as
she climaxed.
I
waited for the waves of pleasure to subside.
She
flipped over and lifted her ass up.
“Fuck me, Daddy, and I’ll tell you the rest of the story.”
“Lo,
you just blew me in the kitchen.”
“Come
on! You can do better than that. Can’t you get it up again?”
Her
belittling comments didn’t help the situation.
“Get
behind me and fuck me,” she demanded.
I
got behind her, but I wasn’t hard. She
reached under the bed and passed me her glass dildo. “Use this for now,” she instructed. I slid the smooth, hefty sculpture into her
slippery puss and she continued talking in spurts.
“He
was a gamer and I think he told his nerdy friends about me. Soon they were inviting me over their dorm
rooms to play with them. They each
wanted me to jiggle their joysticks.”
“I
bet they did.”
“They
were all computer geeks and none of them had much sexual experience. Anyhow, I didn’t actually do anything with
them.”
“Nothing?”
I asked in disbelief.
“Not
much, but they made up stories about me.
They each claimed that they fucked me and so they began calling me the
community chest, bragging that they each made a deposit.”
“And
you let them get away with that?”
“Let
them, I got off on it.”
All
this time I was almost mechanically pushing and pulling the glass object in and
out of her puss as she was backing up and pulling forward on her hands and
knees. Now she said, “Harder,
Daddy. Pay attention to what you’re
doing!”
I
tried to give more attention to her puss, but I had more questions for
her. “So,” I asked, “what did you do with them?”
“Well,”
she said, ramping up again, “like I said, they didn’t have much sexual
experience and when I did try to blow one of them he. . .” she broke off and
began her howling orgasm.
I
pulled the dildo out from her and she squirted, involuntarily, all over the
sheets. She thrust her hands between her
legs, trying to stop the sprinkler, and she exclaimed, “Wow! I feel like a fucking Slip-n-Slide!”
“You’re
more fun,” I said.
Collapsing
in the bed when she was done, I brought a towel over and applied it between her
legs and to the sheets. I asked her
again, “What happened?”
“I
squirted,” she said, annoyed at my ignorance.
“No, silly. I mean, what happened with the geek?”
“Oh, well, I was
on my knees and I unzipped his pants, but when I opened up his fly, I saw that
he had already cum. I said to him, ‘Let
me blow you. You can take my tits out of
my top and suck on them,’ but he was so embarrassed that he just zipped up and
left.”
“And
the thought of that made you cum just now?” I asked.
“No,”
she said, “the thought of making all of his friends cum the night that I went
over there to play video games and they watched me finger myself – that made me cum.”
“Tell
me that story.”
“Another
time, Daddio, when I actually have a shot of getting fucked by you,” she said,
closing up shop for the day.
“What’s there to eat in the fridge?” I call to her
through the bathroom door. I had just
gotten home from work and I was famished.
“Nothing,” she calls back as I hear the squeak of her
opening the valves to take a shower.
“Nothing?! I
saw a cucumber in the bottom right drawer.”
“Oh, that’s not for eatin’,” she says. “Come to think of it, will you bring it to me
darling?”
Good grief. I
get the green gourd from the fridge for her and a cold beer for me. I pass her the vegetable when she extends her
hand through the narrow opening of the door.
“Can’t I see you?” I ask.
“No.”
“You do know that I’ve seen you naked before? Most of the internet has seen you naked
before. Probably most of our neighbors
have seen you naked before.”
“I have my shower cap on.”
“Oh, well then.”
The door shuts.
I sit down to read and sip my beer and await her exit from the
bathroom. And wait. And wait.
After her repeated cries to God and profanities that I imagine were
directed at her pleasure-bearing plant, I hear the waterspout squeak off.
Finally she emerges.
Lo is very wet
I whistle at her.
“You look half as good in your clothes as you do out of them.”
“That’s insulting!”
“Would you prefer the opposite: You look twice as good
in your clothes as you do out of them?”
“How about you just say I look fabulous.”
“You look fabulous, darling. And delicious. I had no dinner. Can I please eat you from bottom to top?”
“Oh, Daddy, I have to catch my breath,” she says,
lying naked on the bed next to me.
“You do that and I’ll caress your snatch with my
tongue.”
She puts her laptop over her shaved triangle and opens
it up.
“Darling,” I ask, “what are you doing now?”
“Just checking some email and sprucing up some social
media accounts.”
Dejected, I get up off the bed.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m taking off my work clothes and. . .”
“Getting naked?” she asks, licking her lips.
“If that would please you.”
“Will you lie next to me?”
“As you wish,” I say, somewhat sarcastically.
I sit next to her, reading my book as she scrolls
through pages with her right hand. Her
left hand is resting on my cock. It
grows in her palm. I put down my book
and turn on my side, rhythmically fucking her fist. Unconsciously, she allows it, but doesn’t
enthusiastically respond to it. She’s
engrossed in whatever it is she’s reading.
After a couple of moments, I look at what is on her
screen. It’s a page of nearly naked
women.
Just as I was enjoying seeing her in the naked flesh
next to me, and also her pixilated portrait resting just above her pink vulva
on her laptop computer, she scrolls away from the page. And, to make matters worse, she removes her
hand from my hard rod.
“Now what are you doing?” I ask.
“It’s well known that lists create
web traffic and a fan asked me to list six facts about my body.”
“Clickbait,” I respond.
“You can call it that,” she says,
but I think I’m the real bait.
Clitbait, you might say.” She
strokes her bean under the computer as she says it.
She returns her hand to the keyboard
and writes:
Six Facts About My Body:
It is an instrument of pleasure.
It is a canvass for cum.
It inspires creativity.
It drives people crazy.
It drives me crazy.
I love it.
“Not bad,” I say.
She ignores my compliment because now she is engaged in
answering emails.
One guy asks, “Who are you?”
“Cum and find out,” writes Lo, followed by, “Wait, reverse
that.”
Another guy sends a dick
pic. Lola tells him that if he is going
to do that, he has to send one with her photo in the frame. He replies, “I don’t usually send dick pics.”
“I bet you say that to all the
sluts,” she replies snidely.
I can see that she is getting excited. Her right hand moves to her chest and she
pulls at her nipples, making them erect.
“Looks like you’re ready to give
some pointers,” I say.
Another fan read the story, “Divine Destinies,” about Lo’s immaculately pure pink posterior flower. He wrote to Lo requesting some steamy chat, adding that, “I love to talk about dirty things.”
Lo, taking offense at this, replies,
“Are you suggesting that the pinnacle of my success is ‘dirty’?”
“Lo,” I say, “turn over and I’ll
take a pic of my tongue deeply penetrating your perineum and we’ll show him how
you’re more beautiful than Charlene and Mr. Clean.”
She chuckles and asks, “How the hell
do you know that song?”
“My brain isn’t as old as my body.”
“If by that mean you mean that
you’re immature, then you’re right.”
“Roll over.”
She closes her laptop and I think I’m in luck, but
then she takes out her phone. She does
turn onto her tum and begins going through photos from fans. “I just need a little something to wet my
whistle, if you know what I mean,” she says, as she puts her right hand down
between her pussy lips and strokes, then, using that natural lubricant, moves
to her porn star.
She passes me the phone and says, “Look what I found
in my in-box!”
I, looking at both her boxes intently at that moment,
take the phone from her.
“Read it aloud,” she says, “I’m all ears. . . and
vagina.”
I see a long email from a fan, a woman named “Jen X.” It reads:
As I read the lusty letter, Lo is
having finger fun time between her legs and her feet are working in tandem to
stroke my cock. The words are so poetic
and prurient that I very nearly cum. Lo
can feel it and she turns and says, over her shoulder, “I just got out of the
shower. I didn’t wash my hair and I
don’t intend to today. If you cum, don’t
cum in my hair.”
“Do
you think Audrey Hepburn ever said that to Gregory Peck?”
“Look,
I aim to please, so please be sure to aim.”
Just
as she says it, I take aim and hit my mark, right between her shoulder
blades.
Painting on Canvas
After
I recoup, I get up and go to the bathroom to clean myself off. There, on the sink, is her giant
cucumber. “Do you think this is still ok
to eat?” I call to Lo.
“What,
your cock?”
“Well
that too, but I was referring to your veggie vagina filler.”
“Oh,
I’m not done with it yet. Toss it here.”
I
do so and I also return to the bedroom to get dressed.
“Where
do you think you’re going?” she asks as she stuffs herself full of the jolly
green giant.
How about this?
“To
the store to get something for dinner.
Do you want anything?”
“How
about an eggplant. This is not nearly
enough to feed me.”
“Fuck! I hope that never happens again!” she blurted
out as she entered the house.
I
had been quietly sitting on the couch, perched in my usual spot, writing, when
she burst in with a flare for the dramatic.
“What
happened?” I inquired, merely raising an eyebrow.
“Get
in the bedroom and I’ll tell you.”
That
can only mean one thing.
I
saved my work, closed my laptop, and followed her to the bedroom. By the time I got there she was already
naked, her legs spread wide, her right hand slapping her pussy with a small
splash.
“What
are you waiting for?” she asked impatiently.
“I
came as fast as I could,” I said as I began removing my clothes.
“Well,
don’t cum as fast as you can now if you want to hear what I have to tell you.”
I
slid into her already lubricated puss and she let out a gasp of relief.
“Am
I wet, Daddy?” she asked.
“A
juice box,” I said. “What is going on?”
She
didn’t speak immediately. She was
enjoying the ride. Her hands had moved
to her sides and she was pulling her ass cheeks, spreading herself as wide as
she could go.
“Can
you feel me?” she asked.
“Almost
not at all. Like fucking a bathtub full
of warm water.”
That
was enough to bring her to a mild squirting orgasm as her puss gently gurgled,
soaking me, the bed, and her ass.
“Harder,
Daddy. Faster.”
“If
you tell me what’s going on, I’ll fuck you like a jackhammer.”
I
sped up my rhythm and increased my force.
Lola’s Yoga Pants
“That’s
it,” she said, her eyes shut. “I’m so
wet. So fucking wet.”
“I
can tell,” I said, “but not for me I bet.”
“I
was at the gym,” she began, as the scene played out before her shut eyes, “in
my grey yoga pants.” She paused.
“Yes,”
I said, bringing her back to the here-and-now.
“And
I was on the adductor machine, working on my inner thighs when I noticed the
guy in front of me. He was doing pull
ups directly in my line of sight.
Unconsciously I was watching his body go up and down while I was working
my legs. Then I noticed that I was
watching him – his bulging biceps, the ripples of his shoulders, his broad
chest. His shirt was short, so I could
see his abs, and then I looked a little lower and saw just how huge his cock
was. Every time he went up and down, I
was spreading and then clenching my legs together. I became self-conscious of what I was doing
and looked up to see if he noticed me.
Our eyes met for a moment and then. . .”
She
climaxed again; this time much harder than before.
When
she regained her composure, I asked, “And then what happened.”
“Daddy,
it’s too embarrassing!”
“What?”
“As
I was spreading my legs, completely involuntarily and without warning I. . .”
she trailed off.
“You
what?”
“I
came. I squirted. I felt myself drenching my yoga pants until
they were dripping. And he saw it
all! I immediately closed my legs
together and pretended to take a sip from my water bottle and somehow made it
look like I had spilled it on my lap. I
ran out of there as fast as I could! Oh
my God! I can never go back there
again!!!”
As
she told me this, I had slowed and almost stopped thrusting, I was so engrossed
in her story. But then she rebuked
me. “Don’t stop. Come on.
Fuck me. Use me. Fill me up.”
“Lo,”
I said apologetically, “I can’t even feel you, you’re so wet.”
“Forget
it!” she commanded, angry at me.
She
pulled away so I slid out of her. She reached
under the bed, grabbed her horse-cock dildo and said, “You can watch, if you
want, but I need something that’s going to really fill me up.”
She
stuck it to the headboard of the bed and backed into it as I was on my knees in
front of her, stroking my cock.
“Are
you thinking of him?” I asked as she thrusted back into the cock vigorously
with her eyes closed.
“Yes,”
she said honestly.
“You
think he’d fill you like that?”
“Yes,”
she said.
I
could see that I may have been distracting her from whatever fantasy was
playing out in her mind, so I continued with my masturbatory movements in silence
as I watched her tits hang down and rock back and forth, thinking about what
that guy must have thought of her in the gym.
Suddenly I came, shooting my pent-up love all over her face. It was a surprise to her because her eyes
were still shut. When she realized what
I had done, it sent her into a violent hysterical paroxysm, the likes of which
I had not seen in a very long time.
Her
arms spread forward and her body bowed down making a “Downward Dog” movement as
her cunt clenched the long, thick cock behind her.
When
she regained consciousness, she said, “Maybe I’m just not made for city
life. Maybe I’m meant to keep in shape
by working on the farm.”
A
July vacation at a beach house for a week can be the perfect antidote to all of
your problems. Unless that vacation is a
family reunion and the beach house is for thirty people. And among those thirty people are married
dads in their forties and fifties who are in good shape. And your girlfriend is Lo. Then, you might have ninety-nine problems,
but Lo is the only one you have to really worry about.
That
was the case this week. Every seven
years or so my extended family decides that we should make a pilgrimage from
all the corners of the globe, rent one enormous house on the beach with enough
bedrooms and bathrooms to accommodate us all, and stay under one roof for seven
days straight. We have been doing this
for a few decades now, but we hadn’t had one of these since I started dating
Lola.
She
hadn’t met most of my family – only heard about them through various stories I
told her and, to be fair, with thirty of them, I doubt that she really could
tell one from the other without having met them in person. But this week, right in the middle of July,
we were all going to be up-close and personal with each other. Foolishly, I hadn’t thought of warning her
prior to our departure. This was my
family. Did I need to warn her? Apparently so.
You
see, if I do say so myself, I come from a very good looking family. My brothers and sisters and my cousins have
certain family features in common – features that drive Lo wild. I’d even venture to say that, of the lot of
us, I am probably the least physically attractive. My male relatives all have strong-cut jaws,
expressive eyes, and the classic broad shoulder tapering to a thin waist. They are very health conscious, for many of
them were athletes even through college.
My female relatives share many of the same good genes that have
preserved their looks into midlife. And
they are married to rather attractive spouses.
Throw
into this mix of middle-age men – all walking around topless, biking, kayaking,
swimming, cooking, and being dads to their respective kids – a twenty something
nymphomaniac with daddy issues wearing a skimpy bikini and you have just
brought all sorts of wrath down upon your head.
Such was my lot for a week.
It
began innocently enough. We were on the
beach with a few of my cousins. The sun
was blazing and the waves were rough and tumble. We had our boogie boards with us and, after a
beer, Lo said she wanted to ride the waves with me. We grabbed the boards and went into the
refreshing water, waded out past the crashing waves and waited for the right
moment. As we were out there, Lo turned
to me and said, “Daddio, I’m so wet!”
“We’re
in the ocean, Lo. Of course you’re wet,”
I replied.
“I
don’t mean like that,” she said with a devilish grin.
Before
I could respond, a wave came and soon she and I were soaring towards the shore
atop the white crest of the surf.
Conditions were just right for multiple sorties. She looked happy, like a little girl. I had never seen her see so happy. She was grinning from ear-to-ear. What I didn’t realize, since I was next to
her for most of the wet-n-wild rides, was that each and every time we caught a
wave and were carried in atop the undulating surge, Lo’s bikini top would be
pushed downward and, each and every time she stood up from the excursion, her
breasts were popping out, wet and glistening in the sun for all my cousins to
see.
I
only found out about this later, when, back in the house, she got naked in the
bathroom with me to take a shower. “Are
you mad, Daddy?” she asked.
“Why
would I be mad?” I said as I saw her perfectly tanned body before me.
“Because
of my ‘accidents’ at the beach.”
“What
accidents?” I asked, naively.
Then
she told me about her struggles with keeping her top on her tits.
We
got in the shower together and washed each other down with body-soap. It was one of those large shower/hot tubs
that had a comfortable seat to sit. I
told Lo to sit down below me and spread her legs. She did so, mistakenly thinking that I was
going to put my cock in her mouth. She
opened up to receive me, but, instead, I took aim and let lose, releasing the
golden stream formed from the many beers I had had on the beach. She relished in the warm stream I doused her
in, covering her tits and tum, puss and feet.
When I was good and done, she pulled my hand down and reversed positions
with me and, putting one foot up on the ledge, she took aim and allowed me to
get it just as good as I gave it.
Then
she got down on her knees on the floor of the shower and took my hard cock in
her mouth, fondling my balls with her right hand as her left rested on my
knee. Her long, wet, dark hair bobbed up
and down under the stream of the shower.
She wanted me to cum, that was clear.
She worked hard to earn my ejaculatory appreciation, but I denied her
the satisfaction of completion. Before
she got lockjaw, we got out of the shower and dried off.
She bent over the
bed, her ass beckoning me. It was my
turn to get on my knees and worship her tumescent pussy lips with my
tongue. She tasted sweet and I wanted
more. I buried the tip of my tongue as
deep as it would go in her cunt and then in her ass and back again and
again. She came multiple times, her cum
dripping down the sides of my mouth and saturating my beard as it streamed down
my neck onto my chest. I delighted in
making her so wet. Due to the cramped
living quarters, she had to bite her lower lip and swallow her orgasmic
screams. She buried her head in the
pillow to moan and groan.
At some point I
heard the sound of a radio playing from the pool area outside our window. AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” was narrating
the scene.
She was a fast
machine,
She kept her motor
clean
They sang as I
licked the smooth mons pubis of Lo from behind.
She could take it no longer and she crawled forward on the bed like a
wounded soldier out of the heat of battle.
She rolled over, exhausted already, and spread her listless legs.
She was the best
damn woman that I’d ever seen.
I slid in her
pussy with my aching rod and, honestly, I couldn’t feel a thing. Just wet.
So wet. At the very instant of my
shaft lodging deep inside her, she came in waves – waves like those of the
ocean that we were riding just a little while earlier. After her quick climax, she was suddenly
filled with new energy. She rolled me
over onto my back and slid her wet slit down the length of my solid pole,
kneeling on top of me as she pulled and pinched her nipples. I grabber by her hips and rocked her forward
and back, slishing and sliding over my hips.
She had a certain
size,
Telling me no
lies,
Knocking me out
with those American thighs.
She came
again. Again, all I could feel was
wetness cascading down upon me.
She dropped her
head down to bite on my neck and then she slid off of my rod slowly as her
tongue slid down my chest, over my abs, eventually resting at my cock. She took it all in her mouth and down the
back of her throat.
Taking more than
her share,
She had me
fighting for air,
She told me to
cum, but I was already there.
I filled her with
my pent-up power. But she wasn’t done –
no, not by a longshot.
She wanted no
applause,
Just another
course,
Made a meal out of
me,
And came back for more.
Had to cool me
down
To
take another round,
Now
I’m back in the ring
To
take another swing!
She
licked and sucked, bobbed up and down, and opened wide for my balls –
everything and anything she could do to get me back up and hard again. When she finally succeeded, she lowered
herself slowly on me once more and grabbed me, letting her nipples gently touch
mine as she let her body become enfolded in mine. I wrapped my arms around her and held her
tight.
Shower Time
From her state of
delirium, she began whispering in my ear.
“You know,” she
said in a hushed tone, “I think your family likes me.”
“I’m sure they
do,” I said.
“I mean,
especially your brothers. They really
like me.”
“I think they
really liked what they saw.”
“And I liked what
I saw.”
“What was that?” I
asked as I felt her excitement increasing with the taboo things coming out of
her mouth. I slowly moved my hands from
her back to her thighs, to her ass cheeks, and then I pulled them, spread them,
and placed my index finger on her special spot.
“They’re so
built,” she said enthusiastically, “so mature.”
“You mean old.”
“Not old.”
“Older than me.”
“Yeah, but in such
good shape.”
“I see,” I said,
knowing where she was going. . . and liking it.
“And so big.”
“Big?” I asked as
I entered her ass with my finger.
“Their cocks. Their balls.
Wearing a Speedo. . .”
She couldn’t
finish her thought. She was cumming and
cumming harder than any of the previous times.
My finger was deep inside her and I could feel her clenching up on it
and releasing multiple times.
When she was done,
all orgasms finally brought to fruition and her body exhausted, she said to me,
“That last orgasm, it felt just like I was riding that boogie board. It felt like I was riding that wave, topless,
the sea carrying me, lifting me, thrilling me, covering me with spume and salt
and sun.”
“Did you cum when
you were out there?”
“I think I might
have, a little bit.”
“You really are a
nymph, fucked by Poseidon himself.”
