Sea of Porn
It’s hot. It’s humid. It’s February and we’re on vacation – an escape from the winter wonderland of our northern home. Lying out by the pool, I admire the scenery, much to Lo’s consternation.
There’s a DJ who’s also doubling as the MC for the spring-break crowd. He has the limbo bar set up and is spinning “Limbo Rock” as the scantily-clad bikini babes and the sculpted bros do their annual mating dance under it.
Every limbo boy and girl
All around the limbo world
Gonna do the limbo rock
All around the limbo clock
“Enjoying the Bimbo Rock?” Lo asks me, her voice dripping with derision. She glances at me as she asks, but I see her taking in the eye-candy as well.
Jack be limbo, Jack be quick
Jack go unda limbo stick
All around the limbo clock
Hey, let’s do the limbo rock
Limbo lower now
Limbo lower now
How low can you go?
“They’re playing your song,” I say to her. “They’re calling your name, ‘Hey Lo – how low can you go?”
First you spread your limbo feet
Then you move to limbo beat
Limbo ankolimboneee
Bend back like a limbo tree
Jack be limbo, Jack be quick
Jack go unda limbo stick
“I’ll tell you what,” she says to me, looking over the rim of her dark sunglasses, “I’ll spread my limbo legs and you give me your limbo stick, and I’ll show you just how low Lo can go.” As she says it, she spreads her legs wide on the reclining chair.
“That’s sounds great,” I reply, “but first, let’s just see who wins, ok?”
“Grrrrrrr,” she says in frustration at my intentional taunt. “Get me a beer, Daddio,” she commands.
“Sure, do you want it in a glass?”
“Yes, please. But pour it right! I don’t want any head.” She paused. “I’ll be giving head later. . . in bed. That’s the only head I want.”
“I can’t wait,” I reply.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she barbs back, “I’ve got my eye on a few likely candidates.”
Later, up in the hotel room, she asks me, “Did you have fun at the pool, dear?”
“Yes – I particularly enjoyed making you jealous.”
“Well, you do a good job of it.”
“It’s not hard at all.”
“It looked pretty hard to me.”
“I’m going to take a shower,” I say.
“Fine,” she says, turning up her nose at me since she apparently took my choice of shower as a snub of her. But there she’s wrong. I just like to be clean and fresh for her.
“You know Lo,” I say before going into the bathroom, “I only have eyes for you.”
Lo ignores this and simply looks at her phone. “Oh, look at that,” she says to me, “A friend of mine just posted that he thinks that his girlfriend looks like Beyoncé.”
“So what? He’s in love?”
“Aren’t you in love? You say I remind you of Lucille Ball!”
“Don’t forget Bugs Bunny!”
“Bugs Bunny?! Really?! Why not at least Jessica Rabbit?”
“You talk like Jessica Rabbit, but you act like Bugs Bunny.”
“Great. That’s love.”
I hop in the shower. When I come out, I find Lo on the bed, naked, her legs spread, one hand holding her phone and one stroking her puss.
“Tell me what you want,” she says to me without even looking at me.
“No, you tell me what you want,” I respond.
This is a familiar game of ours, especially when she’s both mad at me and horny.
“Do you want me?” she asks, seductively.
“Do you want me?” I echo.
“Say it,” she demands.
“No, you,” I say, not willing to give in first.
“Tell me what you want,” she pleads, still stroking herself and pulling at her pussy lips.
“Not till you do first,” I protest.
“I want you to tell me you want me,” she says.
“There you go! You said it!” I declare, victorious.
“Said what?”
“You said, ‘I want you.’”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
“You know, Lo, I love you too much.”
“Why do you say you love me too much?”
“Because I let you off too easily and you get off too easily,” I say as I slowly slide inside her. She’s dripping wet and very loose. She moans as I slip in. Her phone is still in her left hand and she looks at it as I hold her naked body tightly. Her right hand is still over her clit and she rubs it as I thrust.
“Stay deep. Just stay deep,” she orders.
I obey. Her hips slightly gyrate up and down as her fingers quickly pulse on her clit. She cums within seconds. Her thighs clench so tightly she squeezes me out unintentionally.
“Sorry,” she manages to whisper as she climaxes.
“You just used me to get off.” I protest. “You just masturbated with me inside you. I was completely incidental to your orgasm.”
“No, Daddio, you were instrumental to it. Now flip me over and do me from behind.”
I obey. Her phone is still in her hand in front of her now so that I can see what she’s looking at. It’s a lesbian Tumblr page.
“Do you like them?” she asks me about the women I see on her phone over her shoulder.
“It’s like a sea of porn,” I say.
She immediately shuts off her phone. “Not for you!” she says.
“Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink,” I say.
“You can have your fill of this all you want. It’s plenty wet,” she says as her free hand now slaps her ass and then fingers her puss from behind. Her other hand is still busy between her legs from the front.
Without warning, I cum and cum a lot, deep inside her. Her pussy clenches on me, hungrily. But when I’m done, she flips over and complains, “You didn’t wait for me!”
“What?” I ask, perplexed.
“Ladies first,” she reminds me.
“You did cum first.”
“Ladies first and second!”
I go to the bathroom to clean up. When I return, I find Lo looking at the porn on her phone again, jilling to it. I begin to object to this, but she holds up a finger to indicate that I should wait till she finishes. I am polite and wait. She looks up at me with a smile. “Cum often, cum a lot.”
“The Lola Down motto.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” she says.
“I thought the saying was ‘Cum early, cum often.’”
“That too. As well as, ‘Cum one, cum all.’”
“I thought that was the motto of all your blog fans.”
“That’s not their motto, that’s their modus operandi. I cum and then they all cum.”
“You know, Lo, sometimes our relationship really surprises me.”
“How’s that, Daddio?”
“Sometimes I feel like you’re the guy and I’m the gal.”
“Sounds like fun. Tell me more.”
“I mean, you get off on those prurient pics, but I. . .”
“Oh no, here it comes! Spare me your highbrow criticism.”
“I was just going to say, I like a good story, not just T-and-A.”
“Porn stars and women are human too, you know.”
“Really, women are people? Is that so?” I asked, facetiously. “Even you? I thought you were a goddess.”
“You sound like you’re making an object out of me.”
“Darling, you are first and foremost, a subject – the subject, in fact, of reams and reams of pages I’ve written about you.”
“Now you sound as though you’re fetishizing me.”
“Really? You think so?” I ask, even more facetiously. “If you haven’t noticed by now – NEWSFLASH! – you are my fetish.”
“Good grief! Freud would have a field day with you.”
“Lo, you’re all the porn I need.”
“All I’ve ever wanted to be was a good amateur.”
I lie down next to her. “You’re the best,” I say as I immediately begin to fall asleep. She complains that I’m uncomfortable to sleep on. “Your big barrel-chested torso is impossible to lie on.”
“It’s a big bed in a big room in a big hotel in a big city. . .”
“With a big jerk right in the middle of it!”
As I fall asleep, I can hear and feel her going at it again for that magic number three.
“Why?”
