Tag Archives: Ass
Protected: V-Day is Cumming
Frankie Gets Fucked
2
Lola awoke in a cold sweat and with a hot, soaked puss.
“What is it?” I asked, startled from unconsciousness suddenly.
“I just had the weirdest wet dream.”
“OK,” I said, realizing that there was no returning to sleep now, “tell me about it.”
“Well, you know how you try to make me jealous talking about what’s her name from what’s that show?”
“You’re going to have to be a bit more definite than that.”
“Anyhow, I had the weirdest dream about her.”
She then proceeded to tell me the following.
She was Casey’s babysitter. Now it was just the two of them, home alone, and she was horny. She had been fapping to Lola Down and the erotica of mysexlifewithlola.com all night. She hadn’t slept. Her sheets were soaked. She wanted to feel another’s flesh on hers, between hers, deep inside hers. She wanted that hot white cum. She wanted to be a slut. She didn’t want him to think of her as that “older woman,” a cougar, beyond the bounds of propriety. She wanted to get down and dirty for him. Shock him. Shake him out of his innocent naivete about women of a certain age. About women in general. About her. She was a woman – a woman with needs, wants, desires, lusts, and deep, dark, hidden shame, disgust, and revulsion. “Debase me,” she thought, “and I can rest in my degradation.”
She led Casey to the bathroom where she had up a poster of Lola Down. She lured him there with a request that he help her “clean the drain. It’s clogged.” He followed her, admiring her ass, against his better judgment. He was ashamed of himself.
She showed him the drain. It was clogged. After only a few minutes, they agreed it was time to call a plumber. He noticed her sex toys strewn around the sink, the bathtub, even next to the toilet. He didn’t say anything. He looked around. She looked at him. It was awkward. In order to break the uncomfortable silence, he looked at the poster and said, “Nice. You?”
They looked nothing alike.
“No, it’s Lola Down. Have you heard of her?”
“No.”
He was shy.
“She likes to fuck.”
“Oh.”
“Do you like to fuck?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“Bridgette. Um. I. . .”
“I’m going to take a shower,” she said, removing her clothes. She was naked. She leaned over the sink.
“I guess I’ll get going,” he said, not leaving.
“Fuck me,” she said, protruding her ass back toward him.
“What?”
“You heard me. Fuck me.”
He simply could not believe this was happening.
“Are you a virgin?”
The question took him aback. Was it an insult? Was she demeaning his manhood? He was a virgin, that was for sure.
“I knew it,” she said without a word from him. “Now’s your chance to change that. Fuck me.”
He was fumbling to undo his belt and get out of his pants.
She turned around once she saw in the mirror that he had gotten it out, but not gotten hard. She got on her knees and looked up at him.
“How long have you wanted me to do this?” she said, her lips parted inches away from the tip of his flaccid cock.
“I. . .” He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t deny that he had often masturbated to the thought of her. When she was babysitting and after he went to bed, he had stroked it thinking about her face or about finding her naked in front of the TV asleep. Why had he fantasized about that? Vaguely, as if in a dream, a distant memory rippled across his mind. He saw her, on the couch. He had gotten up in the middle of the night. The TV was on. People were on the TV. It looked like they were fighting, wrestling. They were naked. Her jeans were down by her knees. Her hand was between her legs. She didn’t see him. He just watched. He stood silently on the stairs and watched. She was engrossed in the images on the screen. He noticed something bulging in his pajama bottoms. He didn’t know what it was. A change had come over her. She pulled her hand out of her crotch. She sniffed it. She licked it. She clicked the TV off. She pulled her jeans up. She stood up and walked to the kitchen, away from him. He went unnoticed. He returned to bed, feeling guilty and dizzy. The hard thing in his pajama bottoms wouldn’t go away.
She blew gently onto his detumescent, flagging flesh. It felt good. A tickling, caressing breeze. She put her warm wet lips over that thing. He knew what this was now. He was old enough to know. He never thought it would happen with her. His babysitter, whom he had fantasized about for so long with pangs of guilt. The babysitter he had played football with – who tackled him like a boy with laughs and fun. The babysitter he had cozied up to while eating popcorn and watching “Blue Mountain State” with, against his parent’s wishes while they were gone. The babysitter who had kissed his bruised knee better, causing a tempest of confused feelings in the pit of his stomach.
She moved her mouth, tongue, lips in ways that made his thing grow. It grew hard. She let go and turned around again, facing the mirror.
“Fuck me, Casey,” she insisted.
He moved forward. She was taller than he. He needed to stand on his toes to get the right spot. He couldn’t. She reached back, impatient, grabbed it, pulled it forward violently. “Go in!” she demanded. He went in. She was wet.
She grabbed something from next to the sink. It was a dildo. She covered it with lube of some sort. She passed it to him. “Put this in my ass.”
“What?”
“Put this in my ass,” she repeated.
He took the pointy fake penis and pressed it to the spot. It didn’t go.
She moved her right hand back to the spot. She inserted one, two, three fingers easily.
“Try again.”
He repeated the gesture. It went in.
“Hold it there,” she said.
He held it there.
“OK,” she said a little later, “Pull it out.”
He pulled it out.
“Put your dick in my ass.”
These were very elementary instructions, yet they perplexed him.
“Put. Your. Dick. In. My. Ass.”
He pulled out and put his dick in her ass.
“Harder!”
He tried to go as hard as he could.
“Slap my ass.”
“What?”
“Slap my ass.”
He gave her ass a slight graze with his open palm.
“No, slap it!”
He slapped it.
“Spank it!”
He spanked it.
“Harder. Fucking harder!”
He was hitting her ass as hard as he could with his open palm. It scared him.
“Call me a slut.”
“What?”
His repeated questions were frustrating her.
“Call me a slut!”
“Slut?” he meagerly pronounced.
“Call me a SMILF.”
“SMILF? What’s that?”
“Sitter-Mom I’d Like to Fuck.”
“OK, SMILF.”
“Call me a cunt.”
“You’re, you’re a. . .” he began crying. She could see it in the mirror.
“Fuck, you’re useless. I can’t even feel you in my ass. Pull out.”
He pulled out.
She turned around. She got on her knees again. “How small are you?” she said, observing the thin, diminutive member with wonder. In her haste to fornicate, she hadn’t thought about it much when she had it in her mouth.
She put the toilet seat down. She grabbed a dildo from the bathtub, ran it under the water of the sink and suction-cupped it to the lid of the toilet. She eased her ass down on it.
“Pass me that,” she said, indicating another dildo by the sink.
Casey passed it to her. She took it and inserted it into her pussy.
She had a look of maniacal gratification on her face.
She looked up at him looking at her with wonder. The wonder years, she thought.
She looked down and saw his cock, erect. She realized he must be in incredible discomfort.
“You need to cum?”
“What?” he asked again.
“Shut up and come here,” she said, pulling him towards her with her left hand wrapped around his buttocks.
He involuntarily moved forward. She put his cock in her mouth again, roughly. Her right hand was manipulating the dildo in her pussy. Her left hand controlled him from behind. Her ass slid back-and-forth on the dildo attached to the toilet seat. In her mind she thought about being a sexy cheerleader, the free-use girl of an orgy, a goddess worshipped. She thought about Lola Down. . . .
She was horny.
“Call me a dirty, disgusting, whore.”
He was silent, looking down at her.
Her left hand moved down toward his ass. She fingered his ass and slid a finger up inside.
He suddenly ejaculated in her mouth. The thick, copious cum dribbled out of the corners of her mouth and onto her nipples.
“OK,” she said, “Go.”
“What?”
“Go!”
He pulled up his jeans and left her there on the toilet fucking both her holes.
The next day she called a plumber. A large, middle aged white man showed up. He was unattractive. That suited her just fine. The more disgusting, the better, she thought to herself.
She led him to the bathroom. The same bathroom.
He noticed the sex toys, the poster, the toilet seat with the suction cup dildo attached to it.
“Is this the bathroom or the playroom?” he said with a chuckle.
“A little of both,” she said seductively.
Without much more conversation, they were both naked in the tub. The same tub where it had happened. The thought of it made her feel disgusting and worthless. That’s how she wanted to be treated and that’s how men – real men, like the plumber, not like Casey – treated her.
“What do you think?” asked Frankie, looking up eagerly from the pages in her hand.
“That’s your treatment for the next episode?” asked Zach.
“Yeah. You don’t like it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“So?”
“Well, you’re going to do all that on camera?”
“Yeah. What?”
“Nothing.”
“What is it?”
“Can I ask a favor?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I be there to watch.”
She laughed and leaned in to kiss him. “Only if you call me a dirty little whore while I’m getting fucked.”
“Deal.”
“So you like it?”
“I do, but I don’t think you’re going to get the greenlight to make it.”
“Why not?”
“Frankie, there’s too much that is. . .”
“What?”
“Taboo.”
“I have a way of getting to green.”
“Through the redlight district, no doubt.”
“The way involves a few curves and back roads, but I’ll get there.”
“A dream within a dream?” I asked.
“More like multiple orgasms within an orgasm.”
“I think you need to call Christopher Nolan.”
“Yeah, we could make a film together and call it MetaPorn.”
Protected: Later That Night
Protected: Pizza & Porn
Protected: A Few Tricks, A Little Treat – Andrew and Jane at it Again!
Imitation is the Best Form of Flattery
Art by Al
The perennial question: Does art imitate life or life imitate art?
“Daddy,” Lo said, as she was lying down in bed. It was one of those rare mornings that she woke up before I and was already engaged in her favorite activity – pleasuring herself to something on her phone – “I’m reading ‘Paint me like one of your slutty girls,’ and I want you to know how much your writing turns me on.”
“That’s nice, Lo,” I said, slowly opening my eyes.
She was in her red top and matching red bottom satin pajamas, one hand down between her legs under the satin, the other holding her phone.
“You know,” I said further, “that story has nothing to do with me.”
“Yes, but you wrote it.”
“About you and your admirer and his obsession with you.”
“That’s what I love about it.”
She brought her hand out from under her satin shorts and licked her fingers before replacing her hand on her crotch.
I reached my left hand over and placed it between her legs so I could feel her fingers moving and her hand pumping up and down as she inserted her fingers to her hole. I tried to slide my hand under her satin bottoms and she said, “Uh uh. Only over.”
I relented and resigned myself to merely feeling her feeling herself.
She dropped her phone and pulled her tits up and over the V-cut of her top and said, “Suck them, Daddy,” which I did.
“Pull my nipples, Daddy.” I did that as well. She orgasms quite easily to the feeling of pain caused by pulling and pinching her nipples.
She moaned.
“What’s got your engine revving so this morning?”
“I told you,” she whispered in a breathy sigh, “I was reading. . . your story.”
“And?”
“And Al sent me a drawing of what he would like to do.”
“What is that?”
“It’s a drawing of him and his wife in bed, getting off to my photos on their TV.”
“Oh, I see.”
“He wishes he could tell his wife that he has been jackin’ off to me regularly for months now. He wishes he could tell her what a slut I am – that I like to go A-to-M and A-to-P and P-to-M and P-to-A-to-M.”
Before speaking I thought that if the Secret Service ever needed a code name for Lo, it would be: MAP PAM
“Yes, you are a dirty slut.”
“Say it again, Daddy.”
“You are. . . ,” but before I could say it, she was back to Al.
“He wants to tell his wife about me, about how I’m a hotwife and sleep with men and women. He wants to have her read the books and blog and get her to do the same. He wants her to fuck other guys in the bed next to him.”
She came in a gush of good feeling. I felt it wash over my hand.
As she was recovering, I looked at her phone.
“Lo, that’s not a painting,” I said.
She opened her eyes. “Oh, that? No. That’s from Jane and Andrew. I sent them Al’s art and, guess what?! They reproduced it in real life! And they improved upon it. Look at Andrew! He’s locked in his cage. And look what else!”
Andrew & Jane
She used her dry hand to enlarge the photo so I could see that Andrew and Jane had printed up art of Lola and framed it around their television. “Isn’t that amazing!”
“You are a sexual celebrity.”
“A tempter for Andrew’s celibacy!”
“I sure hope he’s not celibate with a wife that sexy!”
“Maybe they both cum to you when she gives him permission.”
“I want him to look at my photos and lose control and cum even in his cock-cage.”
She saw my cock twitching under the sheets. “Oh, Daddy, do you need to cum?”
“When I see you like that, I do,” I said, which wasn’t the whole truth. I am actually even more turned on by her voice, her tone, her moan, and her dirty talk than by seeing her. She could make me cum over the phone, which she has actually done many times.
Art from Al
“What do you need?” she asked.
“Stroke me.”
She grabbed the hand lotion next to her on the nightstand and put it in the palm of her left hand. “Give me that cock,” she said.
She wrapped her hand around my hard rod and the cool cream made me even more hard than before. She began sliding her cupped hand up and down my shaft. She slid her palm down to my balls and cupped them before moving even further down.
“You like how life imitates art?”
Andrew and Jane
I couldn’t answer. She knew why. “You’re going to cum,” she observed. “Where do you want to cum?”
“You tell me,” was all I could say.
“My face.”
At those words, I pulled back and got up, straddling her torso, grabbing my throbbing organ and coaxed my creative juices to climax, baptizing the crown of her head in hot white spurts that dripped down her face. She licked around her mouth and said, “I bet Al would like to show his wife how I do that too.”
“Maybe he’ll paint you like a Mona Lisa drenched under a dripping Jackson Pollock.”
“Classic, abstract, and pornographic all at once. I like that!”
“You should, it describes you perfectly.”
Imitation #1
Imitation #2
Protected: Clench & Drench
A Chance Encounter with a Unicorn
[Guest Post by Lola’s new friends – SnowCplCo]
SnowCpleCo
We were driving across the country for the holidays and, as dusk was descending and T was growing tired, we pulled into the first motel on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere that we found. I was walking the two dogs, who were eager to get out after so long in the back seat, while hubby was unloading bags. The dogs suddenly stopped and directed my attention toward an attractive brunette walking in a short black dress and turquoise heels. Mysteriously, the dogs were as captivated by her as I was. This petite, yet confident “girl next door” walked up to me and asked if it was ok to pet the dogs. Though they were stir-crazy from the drive, they are friendly and I said that they’d love it. She leaned over to pet them and I could see right down the open neckline of her dress. She had nice tits. No bra. Young. Perky. I was getting wet as I stood there, gawking at her. I tried making small talk. She crouched down to continue petting the dogs, as I stood over her. It was impossible to not see down her dress from that angle.
As we were chatting, she saw hubby grab a bottle of bubbly and bourbon from the car. She said “Oh, I’m so ready for glass of wine after driving all day.”
I responded, “Wine time never comes quick enough on road trips.” We kept talking for a bit and she asked if we would mind if she joined us for a glass because she hadn’t talked to anyone all day. I said, “Sure, but it has to be in our room due to the dogs.”
She was game and we made our introductions. She introduced herself as Lola. We agreed to meet about an hour later. I told hubby when I got back to the room and he said, “There goes our playtime then.” He had been horny and wanting me the entire drive.
I responded with, “She’s not going to be here all night. We’ll still get to play. Promise.”
Lola came over and we sat around the small room and chatted with the conversation going all over the place. A few glasses into it, she said that she better get back to her room. It was clear she was merely being polite. To my surprise and arousing a bit of jealousy that I didn’t even know I had, hubby asked her to stay for one more glass. She agreed, but said, “Before I have any more, I have a little work to do. Do you mind if I go grab my laptop?”
“Not at all,” said T.
A minute later she popped back into our room and sat at the tiny desk.
“What kinda work are you doing?” asked T.
“Just updating our blog.”
Hubby, trying desperately to turn the friendly chatter into a sexy seduction, said in a joking way, “What, like your OnlyFans page?”
She looked over at him, smirking, and said “Something like that.”
Hubby said back to Lola, “I bet a pretty, young, flirtatious girl like you makes a thousand dollars a day on the internet.”
“Hardly,” laughed Lola. “I do it just for fun, actually.”
“Wait,” I said, “you mean he’s right?! You do have an OnlyFans page?”
Lo laughed even more and said, “Well, no, not OnlyFans. Just a sex blog that my man and I run.”
“Oh!” said hubby, “I can’t believe it! I’ve been waiting all day to get to work on content with her for ours page!”
Lola looked very surprised and said “Really! You two don’t seem like the type!”
“I could say the same about you,” I said.
We talked a little more about it before I suggested, “I’ll show you my page if you show me yours?”
That was all it took for T. He had his laptop out so quick! We looked at each other’s pages and hers was incredible! We go by Snow CoupleCO and she seemed to like what she saw of us too. I then asked if she wanted help making content and winked at hubby. She paused a bit and looked at us. “Really?”
“Yeah, it could be fun.”
“OK, but no photos.” She was concerned about remaining anonymous.
“Deal.”
“I’m going to freshen up,” she said, “It’s been a long drive today.”
“OK. See you back here soon.” I felt butterflies in my stomach, I was so excited. While she was out showering and, I think, shaving herself smooth, I took a quick shower as well. When I came out, I found hubby jacking off to Lo’s photos. I snapped a couple of pics but told him, “Keep it hard, Mr. Roadtrip McLovin!”
Mr. T – Roadtrip McLovin
When Lola came back, gone was the girl next door and here stood a pro porn star! You would never recognize her. “You really are ‘the nympho next door!’” I said.
Lo was wearing a sheer white top that reminded me of boudoir wedding photos I had seen once. But adorning her neck was a black leather collar, like a dog’s collar, that said “SLUT” in diamond studs. She wore a short black skirt that barely covered the bottom of her ass and black leather boots to match.
Lo Looking Like a Slutty Bride
“Before we get to playing, there’s a dive bar attached to this rundown motel. How about the three of us go in there and see what happens?”
I was very game, but I had a better idea in mind.
“I just caught my husband masturbating to your photos,” I said. A sparkle of vanity flashed in Lo’s eyes as she looked first at my hubby’s face and then at his crotch. “He must be hard-up for you,” I continued. Lo’s tongue ran across her teeth as she looked desirously at him. “Do you think you could help him out before we go there?”
“Help him out, how?” she asked.
“Get on your knees,” I commanded.
She obeyed immediately. I reached over and pulled out T’s bulging hard cock from his pants. I held it in my hand. “There you go, hun,” I said to him. “Do it. Cum on her face.”
He took control of his cock and stroked fast. He looked at me, looked at Lo longing for his dick in her mouth. He looked at me again. He looked down at Lo and came on her face. It was the fastest I’ve seen him cum in ages!
Lo’s cheeks and chin were dripping with his cum. I had to hold the dogs back to keep them from licking her clean.
“OK, now we can go.”
“You want me to go like this?”
“Exactly.”
“OK, but let’s make it more interesting. My man and I play a little game like this a lot. You walk in first. Then I’ll walk in and join you. T walks in last and has to sit away from us. Let’s see who has the courage to pick us up.”
I was giddy with excitement.
We walked down the motel line to the bar at the end. It was a sleepy little bar in the middle of nowhere that mostly accommodated travelers and lonely locals.
Lo walked in first looking like a used prostitute. I followed, looking like a lonely housewife desperate for action. I wore my tight jeans shorts, cowboy boots, and a blouse unbuttoned nearly to my navel. No bra.
The few folks inside noticed our appearance right away. I ordered a beer across the bar from Lola, who had ordered some sort of cocktail.
I then made my way over to her and pretended like we were meeting for the first time – which we had, only about two hours earlier.
A couple of middle-aged guys approached us and I noticed my husband walk into the bar. No one else, except maybe Lola, noticed him.
Both the guys who were talking to us had wedding bands on.
Eventually, in the dimness of the bar, one of the guys noticed the sheen on Lo’s face from my husband’s cum.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Beauty cream,” she said with a smile.
I leaned in and licked it, seductively, off of her face before making out with her.
The two guys were excited beyond belief. I reached back with one hand and grabbed the cock of the guy sitting next to me.
Suddenly the grumpy old bartender told us to take it outside. This wasn’t a brothel!
“You want to join us?” I asked the men.
They sure did!
Lo and I walked with them back to the room and the four of us went in.
It was really crowded in there now with the two dogs.
Lo and I stripped each other and started making out on the bed as the guys watched.
“Aren’t you going to join us?” asked Lo in a little girl sort of voice.
They guys began taking their clothes off, embarrassed to be seeing each other naked.
Just as they were about to approach us on the bed, T barged into the room and, in a performance worthy of an Oscar, he yelled, “What the hell are you doing?!”
The guys were shocked and quickly scrambled to put on their clothes. In their haste, I think they might have even put on the other’s clothes by accident.
They got out of the room quick and we all had a laugh.
Lo began to work my clit ring and lips while sliding her tongue in and out. I then felt her fingers entering me. She had the perfect rhythm and I really began getting wet, feeling my juices drip down my ass. Lola raised up my hips, smiled, and slid a finger in my ass. I moaned, looking over at hubby, who now had his cock in his hand. He was moderately hard, since he had cum so recently. I grabbed Lo’s hips and slid her up to my face. Instantly, she began grinding on my tongue.
We played pretty hard for a while before she whispered, “Can we invite your hubby?” Of course, I wasn’t going to say no. So she lifted up her her face and, dripping with my cum now, told him, “Take the rest of your clothes off and get over here.” We both went down on him while he was trying to keep the dogs off of us. We took turns playing with him as he went from my ass to Lola’s mouth and back again and again. Eventually, when Lola convinced me to do the same, he came, shooting a huge load in her ass before I cleaned him off with my mouth. He poured us drinks and we laid on the bed with her in the middle petting each other.
Lo stood up and cum dripped down her inner thigh onto the cheap motel room carpeting. She grabbed a glass of the bubbly to quench her thirst and picked up her clothes.
“I’ll let you two get some good sleep tonight. Thanks for a fun time,” she said as she walked out into the parking lot stark naked. We watched her saunter to her room and disappear inside.
I’m not sure if I was dreaming or not, but a few hours later I woke to the blood curdling sounds of what sounded like a murder, but, after close listening for a few moments, I realized, it was Lo’s screaming orgasm.
The next morning she continued on the road east as we continued west. When we got home, first thing we did was order a copy of Match, Cinder & Spark. We now get off to it nightly, fondly remembering our time with Lola Down – just your average nympho next door.
Snow getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark
Snow Getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark
Snow Getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark
Snow Getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark
Snow Getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark
Snow Getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark
an extra bonus Christmas gift from Snow
Shopgirl Assistance
Panties Panties Panties
“Excuse me, but could you please help me with this?” he asked.
“Sure, what is it you’re looking for?” replied the young, cute women’s clothing shop salesgirl.
“I’m trying to find the right size miniskirt.”
“Oh, for your girlfriend?” she asked, not seeing a wedding band on his ring finger. “What’s her size?”
“Well, that’s just the problem.”
“You don’t know her size,” she said, holding up a couple of skirts.
“No.”
“That’s ok, it happens all the time. Do you think her waist is wider or narrower than mine?” she asked, twirling and trying to be helpful. He was stunningly handsome and had a ‘V’ shaped physique. Broad shoulders, narrow hips, bulging biceps. He wore a tight t-shirt that hid very little of his rock-solid pecks. His jeans were loose-fitting, but she could see he was packing something large in them. She immediately wanted to be as accommodating as possible and she was grateful to show off her own feminine form for him to compare her with his girlfriend.
“No, I don’t think you understand,” he said. “It’s not for my girlfriend.”
“Oh?”
“It’s for me.”
“For you?”
“Yes. And these are only in women’s sizes, understandably.”
She chuckled and asked, “Are you getting ready for Halloween?” It was only August.
“No,” he said, secretly delighting in the bombshell he was about to drop. He had never done this before. He was nervous about her reaction. But he also had been looking forward to this moment, vividly imagining it in all its detail, and spending lots of time choosing just the right sales assistant for the job. He didn’t even know it before Lola, but it had become his particular kink. “I’m a cross-dresser,” he said nervously, the blood rushing to his flush face. “I’m looking for a skirt for me. And maybe some panties, a garter, and maybe a nice choker.” He said it all very fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid.
She was young. Inexperienced. Innocent. Naive. She couldn’t conceal the surprised look on her face. That’s exactly what he was hoping for. But he also was wracked with fear that she would laugh, or worse, call security. His heart was thumping in his chest. He could hear the blood beating like a drum in his neck and ears.
Now for stage two.
“Well, uh, what is your size?” She asked foolishly. But then she corrected herself. “No, you know what, here, I’ll just measure you.” She played it off as if she had had many customers with the same request. In fact, she had never even fathomed an encounter like this. But something about it – probably his amazingly good looks and his disarmingly polite, even shy demeanor – made her feel at ease and willing to help.
She wrapped a measuring tape around his hips. She liked getting her face close to his abs. She didn’t linger too long. She did some quick calculations. “What style were you interested in?”
He pulled up a couple of very skimpy skirts, barely six inches in length. “Something like this.” They were pink. One had a plaid pattern on it.
“OK,” she said, trying to be cool. These were sexy outfits. She felt a twitch between her legs. “Let’s get you something in your size and get you in the fitting room.”
“Will you help me pick it out? I’m new at this.”
She laughed flirtatiously. He was at least five, maybe seven years older than she. “Of course I will. That’s my job.”
They picked out a few items and then they walked to the fitting room together. She had to tell the other shopgirl that it was ok. They often had men waiting for their wives and girlfriends outside the fitting room, but never one go inside, to try on something like this!
She followed him in. He took the items. He tried them on. When he found one that he thought fit, he opened the door to let her see.
“What do you think?” he asked.
She looked, mouth wide open, as she saw him in a pink frilled mini-skirt, his giant cock bulging out from the bottom, supported and veiled by tight white lace panties. He was bare-chested. She had never seen such an Adonis as this perfect man!
How do I look?
“Um, is that the look you’re going for?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, uh, well, you’re not exactly covered.”
“I like that.”
“Then I think it looks fabulous!”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
“I have a few more to try on.”
He shut the door. Now her face was flush. Her heartbeat was thumping in her chest.
A few moments later, he opened the door and asked again, “What do you think?”
This time he was wearing a pink plaid mini-skirt and white lace stockings held up by a garter belt. The tip of his uncut cock protruded a good two inches below the hemline.
What do you think?
She looked at him, speechless.
“Oh. My. God.”
“What?” he asked.
“Um, I’m sorry, uh.” She fumbled. She had never, ever seen anything like this.
They spent the better part of an hour trying on different items. Her imagination went wild as she dressed him up in tight panties, stockings, even a bra. She loved touching his rock-hard flesh.
She had orgasms before, but never had she had a hands-free, contact-free orgasm. This one happened merely as a result of being in his presence. She creamed her panties and she knew she’d have to leave work early.
Before her assistance was over, she asked, “Where do you plan on wearing these?”
He pulled out his phone and showed her the wallpaper of the homepage. It was a sexy photo of a beautiful, buxom, brunette. “They’re for my girlfriend, Lola,” he said.
And, indeed, he wasn’t lying. Lola had instructed him to put her photo on his phone and to do everything that you have just read and to tell the shopgirl that Lola was his girlfriend.
Lola Wallpaper
Later that day, he brought all his lingerie home and did a photoshoot for Lola and relayed how he obediently fulfilled her instructions.
“Closet Panties”
