Substitutes

The plans for Robert’s engagement had to be postponed due to COVID-19.  Linda, his intended betrothed, was in Italy.  He was here in America.  His planned flight during spring break to visit her was cancelled.  Without Linda and without Lo, who was with me during quarantine in Florida, he regressed to his former self – that is, suffering from erectile dysfunction.

When Lo and I finally returned home from our temporary pandemic paradise, he was very eager to see her.  They had made a date.  Lo explained that there was no worry about social distancing with Robert because he hadn’t seen anyone or been with anybody since our departure back in February.  In addition, he was already prone to hypochondria and health anxiety, so he had taken every conceivable precaution to avoid contact with anyone.  He was a real Howard Hughes, only without the money, fame, and grandiosity.  The only exception he made to his rule was seeing Lo.  Madness drives us all.

Naughty School Girl

Lo was getting ready for her date with Robert.  She got out of the shower and was drying her hair.  I let out a cat whistle.  “Don’t get any funny ideas,” she says, “I’m already late.”

“I don’t have any funny ideas.”

“Good.”

“I have sexy ideas.”

“Most of your sexy ideas are pretty funny.”

“Like what?”

“Like your Stoya Fleshlight.  Why would you fuck her when you could fuck me?”

“Because you won’t fuck me.”

“When won’t I fuck you?”

“Like. . . now.”

“I have a date.”

“Well then,” I said, pulling out the Fleshlight, “so do I.”

“The hell you do!”she shrieked, grabbing the Fleshlight out of my hands.

“You’ll fuck me before him?” I asked, incredulously.

“I told you, I’m already late.”

“He’s waited this long, another hour won’t kill him.”

“An hour?!  How do you figure that you’ll need an hour to fuck me?”

“I was thinking two minutes to fuck you, but fifty-eight minutes for you to get dressed and do your makeup.”

“Funny.  You just. . .”

In the middle of her sentence, her phone rang.  It was Robert.  She answered it in her sweet, seductive, slutty voice.  “Hi Robert.”

There was some back-and-forth.  After hanging up, she said, “He’s coming over here.”

“What?  Why?”

“Apparently he couldn’t wait any longer.  He’s already in the car on his way.”

“Then we can do it!”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re the one who gets the sloppy seconds, not him.  And I also like to keep you in suspense.”

“Then give me back Stoya,” I said, reaching for the Fleshlight.

“I bet you’d like her, wouldn’t you?” she asked, as she put the cylinder between her legs, bent over, and made it appear that she had two pussies.

“That is inviting.”

“I told you, no funny ideas,” she said, attempting to walk around like that.

“You’re the comedian of this outfit,” I said.  She put the Stoya Fleshlight on the nightstand and began blow drying her hair, applying her makeup, and getting dressed.  She put on a special outfit just for Robert: naughty schoolgirl.

The bell rang and, as in the old days, I politely let Robert in with a collegial hello.  There was no need to point him in the direction of the bedroom.  He knew his way like a dog remembering where he buried his bone.  He hadn’t seen me in four months and yet blew right past me.  No formalities.  Not even the pretense of interest.  He was just interested in the sweet release induced by Lo spreading her knees.

I sat, frustrated, in the living room.  But before too long, I got a text from Lo summoning me.

I entered the bedroom and found the two of them in the sack.

“Daddio, Robert and I had a little idea,” she said, using a tone to match her outfit.

“What’s that?”

“Well, he’s having a little trouble.  It’s been a while since the equipment was last greaced and, well, we thought that a little role-reversal might help him to get it back up and in working order.”

“What sort of role-reversal?”  I was both curious and confused.

“Instead of Robert fucking me and you watching, Robert will watch as you fuck me.  How’s that sound?”

Lola Greeting Card

I was already hard.  I didn’t have to answer, I just removed my pants, unbuttoned my shirt, and lifted the short skirt Lo was wearing.  I got behind her and mounted her.  She was standing on the side of the bed and Robert was lying down in the bed, silently observing every expression of her face as I penetrated her from behind.

She gently stroked and tickled his testicles and she could see him getting aroused.

“You like that?” she asked.  “You like seeing your little slut getting fucked?  You like to see my ass get pounded?”

He was getting harder.

Lo called over her shoulder to me, “Fuck me like you mean it!”

I increased the tempo and force of my thrusts.

“You like seeing him slam me repeatedly like a screen door in a hurricane?”

I have to admit, I laughed at that simile.  But Robert was soberly serious.

Lo began to suck on his tumescent cock.

“Daddy,” said Lo over her shoulder again.

“What?” I asked, keeping up my aerobic gyrations.

“Can Robert use your Fleshlight?”

“What?!  No,” I said.

“You won’t share your Fleshlight with him, but you’ll share my pussy?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Fine,” she said, perturbed and lunging forward so I fell out of her slick clit.

She climbed up on the bed and slid down on Robert’s erect phallus.  “You can use Stoya while he gets the real thing!”

I went over to the nightstand and grabbed the instrument of self-pleasure, lubed her up, and slid her over my rod as I watched Lo exaggerate her enjoyment, specifically in order to piss me off, though it had quite the opposite effect.

Seeing that her affectations were not causing jealousy, she said to Robert, “Do you want my ass?”

“Yes,” he managed to mumble through his excited breathing.

She lifted up, grabbed her ass cheeks with both hands, spread them as far as they would go, and slid down slowly, gingerly on his lance.  Up-and-down she carefully bobbed, taking him a little deeper with each foray.  Soon enough she was down to the hilt of his cock.  She was making comments about how big it felt and how hard he was.  Her right hand moved to her clit and was rubbing it rapidly.

“Does it feel good?” she asked Robert.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’re so tight,” he said.

“Tighter than my pussy?”

“Much.”

“Why else?”

“Your pussy was so wet.  I didn’t even need lube.”

“I never need lube,” she said.  “Why else do you like it?”

“You’re such a dirty girl.”

“Go on.”

“Such a dirty slut.  A cum whore.  A fuck-toy.”

Lo’s love language is jealousy.  It turns her on to make me jealous.  And, conversely, her own jealousy (of other women or even of Stoya) makes her even more sexually aggressive, like she has something to prove.

“Do you think Linda would do this? – let you have her ass?”

Robert was reaching up to grab Lo’s breasts and cup them with his hands.

“Do you think Linda would let you cum in her ass?  Would she finger herself while you fucked her ass like I’m doing now?”

Indeed, Lo’s four fingers were curled and snug up inside her.

Robert pulled on her nipples.

“Smack my tits!” commanded Lo.  “Yes, pull them, smack them.”

I saw her head tilt back and I knew what would be coming next.

A powerful stream of amrita sprayed from her onto Robert as if putting out a fire burning on his chest as she screamed “FUCK!”

Simultaneously he came in her ass and I in Stoya, each of us grunting our own mantras to the goddess.

Lo quickly jumped off his throbbing hard meat and took it deep in her mouth as she looked up at him.  “Would your pure little bride Linda do this?” she asked as she licked him clean.  “Even if she fucks you, you’re still going to want your dirty little Lo to use and abuse,” she reminded him.

She cupped his balls and fondled them, changing her tone from dominatrix to endearing concubine, she asked, “Feel better?”

“Yes, yes,” was all he could emote.  She grabbed a towel from the side of the bed and wiped down the ejaculate from his chest, proud of her accomplishment.

After he was gone, she turned to me, her mood abruptly changing, and said, “You’re more jealous of Stoya than you are of me.”

“You’re right,” I said, surprised by my irrational preference, “I wouldn’t share my Fleshlight, but I would share my Lola.”

“Phhht,” she said, dismissively, “I take more pleasure in being shared anyhow.”

Full Up

Stress Relief

It was Thursday night.  I walked in on Lo taking a shower.  “Why is there a wineglass in here?” I asked.

“Because I thought I’d have a sensual, romantic evening.”

“Only you would make a sensual, romantic date with yourself in the shower.”

“Hardly.  But, if you must know, I had originally planned on a bath, surrounded by candles.”

“And?”

“I wanted to cut to the chase.”

I looked in at her and saw that she had the hand-held shower head between her legs.

“Only you could cheat yourself out of a romantic date in order to get lucky – with yourself!”

After her climax, she got out of the shower and as she was drying off, she said, “I’m trying to cultivate pleasurable habits.”

I snickered.

“What?”

“Pleasurable habits are your forte.  I don’t think you need to ‘cultivate’ them.”

“No, no.  Not those sorts of pleasurable habits.  Normally it would be things like getting coffee at a café, strolling through a museum.  Doing yoga.  But during these pandemic times we’re in, I need to discover and foster different pleasurable habits.  What are your pleasurable habits?”

“You.”

“Damn straight.”

“Glad we’re agreed on that because I was afraid you were going to tell me to work out or eat better, or, God forbid, cut out beer!”

“Speaking of that. . .”

“Oh no!”

“No, no, no, silly.  I was just going to say that since I can’t go to the gym, I am going to have to find a way to do workouts at home.”

Lola Today

She put on her workout shorts and sports bra and told me to get out of the bedroom because she was going to do some exercises.  I left and about five minutes later I heard her grunting and breathing heavily.

The next day Lola went into the bedroom to do her exercises again.  When she came out she told me about a workout video that got her hot – about burning your buns off.

On the third day, Lola went into the bedroom to do her exercises and I heard her grunting and breathing heavily.  I was curious.  I went to check on her.  I cracked the bedroom door and found her masturbating on the bed to the sexy woman in the exercise video.

“Is this how you work out?!” I said, walking in on her and interrupting the strenuous physical discipline.

“I told you, I am cultivating pleasurable habits.  If my exercise turns into a digitally manipulated cardio session, that counts as a pleasurable habit.”

The next day during her exercise time I caught her in the bedroom pounding her pussy with her glass dildo instead of doing pushups.

“I felt like I needed to work out, but needed to work it out first!  I had a really hard day.”

“Oh, is this your homeopathic remedy?”

“Why do you ridicule me?  I don’t poke fun at you when your idea of exercise is typing fifty-words-per-minute.”

“I’m not poking fun at you.  I’m in awe of your capacity for poking your yum-yum.”

“Good grief!  Could you leave me to my own devices and take your puns into the other room?”

The following night she began masturbating during a movie we were watching.

“Lo, what are you doing?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like your finger-fucking your pussy while we’re trying to watch a movie.”

“Keen observation.”

“But why can’t we just watch the movie?  Before too long, you’ll make yourself cum and then you’ll want to fuck me and we’ll never get through the movie.”

“We’re watching Brad Pitt take off his shirt.  Everyone masturbates to that!”

“You’re extrapolating.”

“What?”

“Because you do it, you’re extrapolating from yourself to everyone.”

“And everyone extrapolates.”

“Now you’re confusing extrapolate with masturbate.  Everyone masturbates, but not during every movie.”

“Extrapolate, masturbate, fornicate, what’s the difference?  Can you please press PLAY so I can get on with this?  You interrupted my rhythm.”

“You’re just going to exacerbate the problem by persisting in it.”

“Exactly.”

As I sat watching the scene unfold, I can’t deny that it got me hard.  Lo noticed and said, “If we go to bed, will you stay up?”

“What about the movie?”
“You’ll fall asleep during it anyway.  Let’s get into the bedroom where you can get into me.”

I agreed and got up.  She remained on the couch.

“Aren’t you coming?” I asked.

“I hope to be soon.  Brush your teeth, get in bed and I’ll be right there.  I’m just going to finish this up,” she said as if she were in the middle of making a spreadsheet for a work project.

In bed, I fell asleep waiting for her.  She must have entered without my noticing, pulled out her Hitachi and, after cumming once, she put it on my back and jolted me awake.  “I was just using the defibrillator to bring you back to consciousness,” she said wickedly.

After I awoke, she sucked me off, climbed on top of me, and began riding my erect cock.  It is well trained to react to her while the rest of me sleeps.  “Fucking you is like fucking a geriatrics patient.”

“You say the most romantic things.”

“I need dick.  Give it to me.”

I was almost asleep again as she bounced up and down.

“This is like fucking a cock on a corpse after rigor mortis has set in.”

“You sure know how to turn a guy on.”

“I want your cum, Daddy.  Give it to me.  Fill me.”

Relieved to hear her request since it meant the culmination of my satisfaction and the fulfillment of her nocturnal necromancy, I released my draught of desire deep inside her to her delight.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said, falling into my arms.

“So, am I on your list of pleasurable habits to cultivate?”

“Of course you are, silly!  Number one on the list is ‘Jill it. Drill it. Fill it.’”

“What’s number two?”

“Actually, it’s the only thing on my list so far.”

Stress Relief Tools

Illustrator Needed for Disney Damsel Lola Down

Belle’s Bestiality, Getting off to Lola Down together

 

“Daddy,” she complained, “diddling my bean is fine, but it’s not as much fun as when it’s diddled by someone else.”

“You want me to diddle your bean?” I asked.

“What I mean is, a surprise.  A stranger.  An unexpected diddle.”

“Oh, I see,” I said, “the serendipitous fappening that one finds unbidden upon the side of the road, in a bar, or wherever one may get one’s jollys jilled on a sunny spring day.”

“Without putting it quite so poetically, yes.  After all, it is May.  Masturbation Month.  Hooray!  Hooray!  The First of May!  Outdoor fucking starts today!” she sang.

“Sounds like you’re the poet.”

“Oh Daddio,” she pouted, as she continued stroking her smoothly shaved pussy on the bedside.  “That’s older than you are.”

“A relic from Chaucer’s time then.”

“Maybe as old as Beowulf.”

Her climax was building until she shot a small stream sprinkling up through the air onto the tile floor, much like a shot from a water pistol.

“And what, may I ask, put you over the edge that time?”

“The thought of meeting Grendel in the woods.”

“Grendel diddles Little Lo’s pink riding hood.  How literary.”

“Grendel, the Big Bad Wolf, I’d even take Gaston.”

“I bet you would!  Or all three, if you were in a crossover series.”

“I like that idea.  A Disney fairytale staring Lola Down.”

“Would you be the villain or the princess?”

“Both.”

“Both?  Disney stories are not that complex.”

            “It would be the story of how Princess Lola Down is usurped from power by the effigies that are made of her in the city because they all depict her naked, like Lady Godiva, but they come to life, like Galatea, and strip Lola of her throne and her clothes.  She wanders about the streets, a naked waif or harlot, until one day, through her own power of understanding, she relinquishes her claim to all the reproductions of herself, thereby releasing them from her true essence and allowing them to live on as mere likenesses.  By giving up her hold on them (or the hold that she wrongfully believed she had on them), she deprives them of the power they had over her and thus they yield back the throne to her once more.”   

Lady G.

 

Pygmalion and Galatea

“So, you’re victim, villain, and hero?”

“That I am.  And you know what else I am?”

“What?”

“Horny.”

“Well, have fun.”

“What?!  You’re not going to fuck me?  Give me your sword!”

“I’m going to go write that down.  You know what they say, the power of the pen is mightier than the sword.”

“Perhaps, but far more diminutive,” she said as she pulled out her huge dildo and held it up in the air as if commanding a great army to victory.

As I sat at the desk writing this story, she impaled herself several times with the wobbly weapon until, finally striking to the quick, she died a glorious death at her own hands.  La petite mort.

 

The Art Cums Alive

Separately Together

Lola Beating Batter

“Whatcha doin’?” I asked as I saw her whisking some batter in a bowl wearing just one of my t-shirts.

“Making whole wheat banana muffins.  Will you try one?”

“Darling, I’ll eat your muff any day.”

“Well, this is the only muff you’re going to get today because my donut hole is oozing jelly, if you know what I mean.”

“You’re confusing food metaphors.”

“Well, there should be no confusion.  If you don’t want our bed to look like something out of C.S.I., then I suggest you be content with just my banana muffin.”

“But you look so very edible in my shirt.”

“You can look, but no touch.”

“What about my banana?”

“Oh, is that what you have in your pants?  You looked a little large to me.”

“This is all natural,” I said, pulling the elastic waistband forward for her to see.

“Keep it in your pants,” she said, still looking at it longingly.

“But Darling.”

“No buts,”

“Just your butt, how’s that?  The perfect compromise.”

“Compromise?  Seems more like first prize for you.”

“That it is.”

“We’ll see,” she said.

“And then I’ll give you some of my batter.”

Later that night, we both got in bed and I asked, “So?”

“So what?”

“Do I get my prize?”

“No, dear, not tonight.”

I was a little disappointed, but I knew better than to press the issue.  She usually reserves her ass for other men, especially to make me jealous.

“Can I ask a favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Will you hold Stoya for me?”

“Sure.”

I got up and took my Stoya Destroya Fleshlight out of the closet.  “Do you wish to lube her up, or shall I?”

“I will,” she said.  “Just stand there.”

“Why?”

“I like to see how my fingering her makes you hard.”

“OK.”

Stoya Destroya Fleshlight

She circled Stoya’s pussy lips like she was pleasuring her before dipping deep in her silicon cunt.

“You like that, Daddy?”

“I like that it looks like you like it.”

“I only wish she was here for me.”

“I bet you do.”

“You ready to fuck her?”

HH

“I am.”

She held Stoya’s pussy between her legs and said, “Go for it.”

I was positioned over Lo and Stoya.  Lo was in the Missionary position holding Stoya steady for me.  I slid right in.  I was fucking her for maybe ten seconds before Lo said, “Daddy.”

“Yes?”

“Try it this way.”  Lo turned onto her tum and placed Stoya between her inner thighs so I could go at her from behind.  I was sliding in and out as Lo read a magazine, dismissive of my masturbatory movements.

“Lo,” I said, interrupting her focus.

“Yeah?”

“Whatcha reading about?”

“Nothing.  It’s boring,” she said.  Then she pulled out her phone.  I could see she was looking at a naked couple.

“Who’s that?” I asked.  I didn’t have my glasses on as I looked over her shoulder.

“Just a couple.  They sent me a photo of them getting off together while reading Match, Cinder & Spark.”

Mike & Alia

She scrolled through a bunch of photos.

“Are all of those them?”

Mike Getting Off to Lo

“Yeah.  They really like it.”

“What about you?”

“I love it.”

“The book or that they’re getting off to it?”

“Both silly.”

“Good,” I said, as I continued fucking Stoya.

“Daddy,” asked Lo, “can you move to my side?”

“Why’s that?”

“I want to use my Hitachi.”

“OK.”

I got on her left side.  With her left hand she absentmindedly held the contraption steady.  With her right hand she pressed the giant vibrator on her clit, clearly focused on that action.

I went at it.  She went at it.  Each of us separately together.

I looked at her naked body as I made my moves on Stoya.  I observed Lo’s closed eyes, her heaving breasts, her tum tightening and relaxing as her right hand pressed and released the vibrating bulb on her clit.  I wondered what scenes were playing out on the inside of her eyelids.  Was she thinking of a man she saw today?  A woman?  A lover from her past?  Someone she is yet to conquer?  Was there a chance she was thinking of me?  Unlikely.  I was right next to her, physically, but she was somewhere else mentally.  She was enjoying the scene.  Maybe she was picturing the couple who sent the photos.  I could see her body tensing up.  Her shoulders grew concave as her right hand pressed harder.  Her breasts heaved and became flush.  Her brow furrowed with the intensity.  Her knees buckled and her hips rose.  Everything was teetering on tipping and spilling over.  The moment was taut with anticipation and anxiety.  There was always the slightest chance she wouldn’t pull it off; that the big O would slip from her grasp.  It seemed so palpably near, but far from certain.  It felt like there were many spirits in the room cheering her on to succeed as if she were running the last few yards of a marathon, the tightly stretched ribbon just aching to be snapped by the victor.

And then, there it was, her great reward for her efforts.  Her entire body heaved and went into spasms as wave after wave of pleasure rippled over her flesh.  She cursed and groaned, grunted and sighed while remarkably still holding the Fleshlight with her left hand.

Her pleasure was enough to put me over the edge.  I came, filling Stoya with my cum.

We put the sex toys away and fell asleep satisfied with the job our prosthetic lovers did for us.

Mike & Alia

Only Love Can Fill the Hole in Your Heart

The Hole at the Center of the World

“Daddy.”

“Yes?”

“Daddy, I want your attention,” demanded Lo in her spoiled-brat tone.  I was busy reading a book.  I looked up at her.

“Yes?”

“Daddy, are you proud of me?”

“Am I proud of you?”

“Yes.”

“Of course I’m proud of you,” I said.  I’ve said it before, but of Gary Chapman’s “Five Love Languages” – 1) words of affirmation; 2) quality time; 3) receiving gifts; 4) acts of service and; 5) physical touch – Lola requires all five and a few more.

“Why?” she asked.

Where to begin?  An open-ended question like that really is difficult to answer, especially after having written five published books about Lo and thousands of yet-to-be-published stories – all expressing my awe of her.

“You know,” I said instead, “it is Father’s Day, not Lola’s Day.”

“Every day is Lola’s Day.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

“Please, just give me three reasons why you’re proud of me.”

At this point it began to dawn on me why, on Father’s Day, she suddenly needed to hear my praise.  Because she’s been estranged from her father for so long and, on this day in particular, his absence and lack of appreciation of her was being felt more strongly than on others.  As a result, she needed to hear from me – her father-figure/lover – that I held her in high esteem.  The highest in fact.

“OK, Lo.  Well, first off, you are incredibly beautiful and sexy.”

“Though that’s true,” she said, “that doesn’t count.  No physical qualities.”

“Alright.  You’re an incredible lover.”

“Also true.  But nothing to do with sex either.”

“You’re just looking to increase the minimum of three to an indefinite amount by disqualifying my answers.”

“Try again.  You still need three.”

“You’re a great cook.”

“It can’t be something I do for you.”

“But you cook for lots of people.”

“Right.  That’s another reason why sex doesn’t count either.”

“This is hard.”

“It shouldn’t be, Daddy.  Can’t you think of three things about me that make you proud?”

“I just gave you my top three.”

“Try again.”

“Well, you’re very accomplished.”

“Go on.”

“You’ve got a graduate degree.  You’re successful in your field.  You’re a rising star.”

“You think so?”

“I do.”

“OK, that counts as one.”

“You’re funny.”

“Funny?  Funny how?” she asked.  “I mean funny like I’m a clown?  I amuse you?”  She said all this doing a spot-on imitation of Joe Pesci from Goodfellas.  We both cracked up.

“And you’re smart.”

Suddenly there were stars in her eyes.  “Smart.  You think so?”

“Of course I do, Lo.”

“Do you know how much that means coming from you?”

“Plethora.”

“What?”
“Plethora.  It means a lot.”

She laughed at my old joke.

“Let’s do it, Daddy,” she said.

“Why all of a sudden?”
“Because your wit turns me on.”

“And you like hearing that I think you’re smart.”

“That too and I want to learn more.”

“What could I possibly teach you in bed?”

“I don’t know, but I’m a big fan of hands-on learning.”

When we got to the bedroom and she removed her clothes, I said, “Now can I compliment your physical features?”

“No,” she said, “just pound me Daddy.  I need to be filled up.”

As I gave her what she asked for and she called out to me “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” it dawned on me (again) that she has a gaping hole in her heart that she attempts to fill through a stuffing a different hole.  Her long line of lovers, past and present, most of whom have been older men, are mere substitutes.  But I, the eldest of them all, what am I to Lo?  Lover?  Paternal benefactor?  Security?  Challenge?

As I continued the quick dips deep into her, she began convulsing and clutching my member.  Tears began flowing from her eyes and greater gushes spurted from below.  A cathartic, quaking, crying orgasm that left her breathless and sopping wet everywhere.

Still hard and sheathed deep inside her, I held her firmly, yet gentle enough to allow her to breathe deeply, her breasts heaving up and down under my chest.

“Daddy,” she whispered as she regained her composure.

“Yes?”

“Are you proud of me?”

“Yes, Lo, I’m very proud of you.”

Fill the Void with Art

Lola Mounted

[The mini-series “Mount Bliss” continues from “Quick Anal Hookups.”]

Lo sat down.  Lilly looked up and took out her earbuds.  Suzanne smiled a disingenuous smirk.  I looked guilty, though I was not.

Lola in bed

“Good morning, Lo,” said Suzanne.  “Sleep well?”

“I did,” replied Lo.

“The rain didn’t bother you?” asked Suzanne.

“Rain?  Did it rain?” asked Lo.

“There was a brief shower,” said Suzanne.  “I thought you might have got caught in it after you left my room.”

Lo said nothing.

“What’s the plan for today?” asked Suzanne.  “Maybe some more water sports?”

Clearly she was speaking to Lo.  Teasing her?  Trying to push her buttons?  Lo was firmly in control of her temper.

“Not sure,” said Lo, right back at her, “will you be exercising the dogs?  They look like they have a lot of pent-up energy.”

“Only Bandit.  Shadow is looking spent from burying his bone yesterday.”

Lo was about to say something when Jim joined us wearing only his bathing suit.

“Morning!” he said cheerfully oblivious to all the tension.

At the sight of him, Suzanne stood up and said that she was going to run the wash so that she will have a clean comforter in case it gets cold tonight.  She added, “Anything you’d like me to wash?  I’m sure you’re eager to get home, but if I can help you clean up.”

“Was it something I said?” asked Jim, suddenly sensing the chill in the air.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Lilly.  “It’s Suzanne.  She’s still hungover from last night and she’s just darkening our day with her storm clouds.”  Lilly never referred to Suzanne as “Aunt Suzanne.”

Lilly rolled over on her back and proudly displayed her still virginal pussy.  Lo caught me stealing a glance at it.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” she said more than asked.

Time to take my lumps, I thought.

I went with Lo to the front of the cottage and, before she could begin to scold me, I professed my innocence.

“Forget all that,” she said to my great surprise.  “I want to go.  Are you ready?”

“Yeah, whatever you want,” I said.  “But what about Collin?  He’s not even up yet.”

As if he had heard me, he appeared in the front door saying, “There you two are!”  He was as genial as ever.  “Sleep well?”

“Fine,” said Lo, flatly.

“Good, good.  I’ll have breakfast ready in a little.”

“I think we’re just going to get on the road,” said Lo.

“Nonsense!  It’s a long drive back.  I can’t let you leave on an empty stomach.”

There was no denying Collin when he was hospitable.

“HH, will you help me get some wood?  I think we’ll cook breakfast over the fire.”

I went with Collin to the wood stack and along the way he said, “You know HH, Lo has been nothing but kind to me.  I am sorry that I have to apologize for my wife and the way she has treated Lo.  I would love to see you both again.”

“That’s all up to Lo,” I said.  “I don’t make those sorts of decisions for her.  She’s her own woman, you know.”

“Oh, I know.  And what a woman she is!”

“You don’t know the half of it, I’m sure.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“One day Lo might let you in.  But, until then, just use your imagination.”

For once, Collin seemed speechless!  Advantage HH!!!

“I like a little game,” he said.

Game on!

After that, there was not much more to report.  The six of us had breakfast.  Collin tried to figure out the riddle I had hinted to him about Lo.  Suzanne insisted that Lo return soon “because the dogs are just crazy about you. . . and so am I!”

With a peck on the cheek, Suzanne wished Lo and me safe travels.  Collin gave me a firm handshake.  Too firm.  He hugged Lo affectionately.  Too affectionately and too long.

Then Lo and I were off in our car back to the city.  Along the way she filled me in on all the details that were missing from my knowledge of the week and that I have just relayed to you, dear reader.

It was a lot for me to take in, but luckily it was a long and bucolic drive.  After her stories were at an end, we both settled into a pensive silence.  I was thinking about how, no if I could write these stories.  It would be a tall order.  A real challenge.

Lola Ready for Action

I began to ponder, what’s this blog about?  What am I writing about when I write about my sex life with Lola?  It’s about sex, yes.  That much is clear.  But it’s really about so much more than that.  It’s about psychology.  About Lo’s psychology, for sure.  But, more than that, it’s about the psychology of women.  For years of my long life, women were the cliché mystery wrapped in an enigma sporting a thong and a bra.  But then I met Lo and everything changed.  She, more than anyone I’ve ever met, opened up – in more ways than one – and let me in, let me explore, let me discover, let me uncover, let me wander.  The more I sought, the more seemed hidden.  She has depths beneath her depths and her surfaces are sublime.  I’m fascinated and intoxicated by her charisma, power of seduction, and her embrace of her inner slut.

The reason why I can write seemingly endless tomes about Lo, besides the raw material that she provides, is that there is no end to the psychological speculation that manifests in the physical enactment of her libidinous expressions of love and lust.

As I sat silently pondering these fleeting reflections, Lo began squirming out of her short shorts and pink panties.

“Lo, what the?”

“Keep driving,” was all she said.  She began by fingering her clit.  She progressed to penetrating her cunt.  Her bare feet went up on the dash and she spread her legs.  Her digital manipulation had escalated to an open hand slapping her pussy.  I had seen her do this before, many times, but this time there was something more violent about it.  It was as if she was punishing her pussy for being so sinful.  Slap, slap, smack, whap!  Down her open palm went sadistically spanking her vajayjay with unrelenting physical rebuke.  Masochistically, that very same cunt she was clobbering was simultaneously showing signs of sexual stimulation.  With each violent vaginal clap, I could hear her getting wet and each slap sounding more like a splash.

Her legs were spread as wide apart as they could be in the confined space.  Her left foot was close to the steering wheel and her right up in the corner by the passenger side window.  From between her legs she suddenly let out a long, forceful spray straight up onto the windshield coinciding with a loud, “FUUUUUUUCK!”

When she was done and her legs were crossed and her breathing heavy, but not panting, I simply said to her, “You know, I didn’t get the interior windshield wiper option when I bought this car.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” she said, using her shorts to mop up the mess.

Once we were back home, I, with a new understanding of Collin and his predicament, took some pity on the old chap.  In my moment of sympathy, I ordered a larger than life photograph of Lo for him to add to his art collection.  A few weeks later, when he had received it, he sent back a photo.  He had mounted it just above his bed.  I guess that was his mount bliss.  Collin finally did mount Lo in the end.

Collin Finally Mounts Lo

Cumtributes in the Age of Coronavirus

[We interrupt our regularly scheduled mini-series, “Mount Bliss,” to bring you this article, published in the June issue of ENM Magazine (Ethical Non-Monogamy).]

“I like to be the social lubricant that helps my man get deals done.”

 

“Will you just look at that,” I said as I stared at my computer screen.  Lo sat across from me at the breakfast table, scrolling through her phone, appraising photos from her fans.  The thought crossed my mind that she peruses the tributes the way some middle-aged men from a different era might go through the morning newspaper.

Sunday News, Lola Down, Hotwife

“Ahem,” I said a little louder, “Would you just look at that.”

She pulled her nose up from out of her phone.  “What’s that dear?” she asked politely.

I turned my screen around for her to see.

 

Applicant does not present live performances of a prurient sexual nature or derive directly or indirectly more than de minimis gross revenue through the sale of products or services, or the presentation of any depictions or displays, of a prurient sexual nature.

 

“Hmmmm,” she grunted, half-heartedly.

“Do you know what that is?”

“I don’t.”

“I have to agree to it if I want to be considered for the Payroll Protection Program.”

“So, making money from our books, blog, and calendars disqualifies you?”

“I’m insulted!”

“You’re right.  Those damn Puritan bastards.”

“No, I’m insulted by you!  You think that my art, my literature, my philosophy of the bedroom is of a prurient sexual nature?”

“Of course not, dear.  It is only interpreted that way.  Just like me.”

“That’s better,” I said in approval.

“And you certainly don’t derive any gross revenue from it.”

“Do you mean gross as in disgusting or as in a large amount?”

“Yes,” she said, dismissively, returning to the photos on her phone.

I completed the application and she started flirting with me by placing her bare foot between my legs under the table, as she often does with guys she dates.

“Why do you want me now?” I asked.

“I just want something to do,” she said.

“Something to do, or someone to do?”
“Someone to do me.”

“At least you’re honest.  But are you sure it has nothing to do with the photos you’re examining?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess you’re right.  But you have stuff to do.  I have stuff to do.”

“Yeah, so let’s make it double-stuff.”

“I like the sound of that,” I said.

Truth be told, I was getting about half as much done during this mandatory work-from-home than I would in a normal workday, and it was all because of Lola.  That truth should not be misconstrued as a complaint.  But still. . .

“I was going to work on my résumé because I think, at this rate, I’m going to be one of the millions of unemployed soon and I haven’t updated it in years!”

“You should treat your résumé like your sex life: if you don’t spruce it up every six months or so, it gets stale.  You should keep a record of all your accomplishments and write them down somewhere.”

“I do, on the blog.”

“I wasn’t speaking of our sex life.  I was speaking of your work experience.”

“Well, being a writer of erotica, our sex life is my work experience.”

“Touché.”

They say ‘Home is where your story begins.’  Well, under Coronavirus lockdown, home is where our story begins, continues, and ends.  Repeat.

We got to the bedroom because, given the opportunity to do Lola or do my résumé, I’d take Lola every time.

We hopped in bed and she said, “Let’s fuck.”

I said, “Pull down your pants.”

“You pull down yours.”

“How about we both pull down our pants on three?”

“Haven’t you ever heard of foreplay?”

“Yeah, we pull down our pants on three and then on four, we play.”

The preliminaries accomplished, I pat her puss with the tip of my cock.  I asked, “Why are you so wet?”

“I was looking at all the cumtributions my fans send me.”

“So, you like showing off nude?”
“Am I really that transparent?”

Tribute from Sam and Alia

“Not transparent at all,” I said.  “And those guys put you in the mood for sex?”

“Ya think?  And who said they were all from guys?”

Cumtribute from Sam

She shut her eyes, apparently picturing the images she had reviewed that morning.

Just as I was getting into her, she opened her eyes and asked, “Do I feel like I have a fever?”

“I don’t know, but I think you’re hot.”

“I’m serious.”

“Yeah, and I’m horny.”

“I might be running a temperature.”

“OK, then, the only way to tell for sure is to take your temperature with my thermometer.  Spread your legs, lift your hips, and say ‘Aaaaaahhhhhh, as I put it in.”

“Funny,” she said and then she sat up, a concerned look on her face.

“What?”

“Every once in a while I think I’m definitely infected with the ’rona.”

“I know.  Everyone does.”

She suddenly was descending into a full-blown panic attack.

“Take it easy,” I said, “Big breaths.”

“I always took you for an ass man,” she quipped, a smile briefly crossing her lips.

“Maybe I was foolish to go to the store to do shopping,” she mused.  “What do you think?  I wore a mask, I brought hand sanitizer.  I was very careful.  Do you think it was prudent of me?”

“It’s probably the only thing you’ve ever been prudish about.”

“No, seriously.”

“Look, why don’t you hop back on your computer and take your mind off of this stupid plague.”

“You brought me into the bedroom to have your way with me and you left my glasses in the breakfast room.  Now I can’t see anything.”

“That’s alright – I look better in soft light.”

“Will you get them for me, Daddy?”

As I began to leave the room, she called, “The wireless is weak in here.  Can I hop on your hotspot?”

“You can always hop on my hotspot, Lo.”

When I returned, she had the computer open on her lap.  I passed her the glasses.

“Need a hand?” I asked.

“More like a cock.”

Sam and Alia read “Match, Cinder & Spark” together.

We looked together.  She scrolled with her right hand as her left stroked my tumescent member under the blankets.

“What are you into?” asked a fan.

“Let’s just say a lot of men are ‘into’ me,” she wrote back.

One artist sent an abstract drawing of her.  Lo titled it, “Lola Down: Simple Lines, Sexy Curves.”

Lola Down – Simple Lines, Sexy Curves

Moments later the artist sent a photo of him cumming on her painting.  “A true genius who loves his work!”

“What about me?” I complained.  “I also love my work.”

“You’re more cerebral.  This was visceral.”

“What do you want?  Me to cum on a copy of Match, Cinder & Spark?”

“No, just cum on me.”

I flipped her over onto her tum, climbed on top of her naked body, and I squeezed my hard cock between her butt cheeks.

“I thought you said you wanted to read?” she asked.

“I do.  I’m a book worm and I want to get into your backpages.”

I applied some lube to her bum and my cock and slid back and forth as she continued to interact with her fans, one of whom said he wants her to love him.  “Do you want love or do you want my pussy?” she replied.

“Do you fuck your followers?” he asked.

“I fuck whomever I please and I please whomever I fuck.”

To one who sent her a cumtribution photo, she asked, “Cum here often?”

To another, to whom she sent a pic of her pussy spread, she wrote, “Cum here often.”

She posted a photo of her under the spout of the tub, water splashing on her clit.  She called it ‘The Human Flying V Guitar’ pose.

A fan texted, “I’m a guitarist.”

She responded, “I’m easy.  Simple fingering and I sing like a Wagnerian Viking.”

She then flipped over and started pulling at her pussy lips as she looked up at me stroking my rod.

“On a scale of one-to-ten, how much do you want me?”

“Seven.”

“Seven?!  I’m insulted.”

“What?  I’ve wanted you more.  It’s true.  Seven is good.”

“Seven,” she said dismissively.  “Barely passing.”

She reached over the side of the bed, her ass exposed before me.  She returned with her Hitachi.  “I want to fuck me more than seven.”

She began enjoying herself until she squirted.

As she basked in her own self-satisfaction, I told her I wanted her.

“Why do you want me?  I look like a fire hydrant that sprung a leak, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I am into that sort of thing and I’m hoping to get into you to plug your leak.”

Cum Here Often

She wasn’t opposed.  After sloshing about in her, I pulled out and came on her naked body.  As she cleaned it up, she said, “Wow!  I think you just set a record.”

“Distance, quantity, or duration?”

“All three.”

“Really?” I said, satisfied with myself, looking proud.

“Don’t get too full of yourself.  It was only your personal record.  Not a record compared to all my lovers.  Hardly,” she said, laughing.

She looked at the computer again and said, “Good news!”

“What’s that?” I asked from my blissful post-climactic haze.

“Your article on nymphomania just got accepted for publication by Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine!”

“Really?”

“Yes!!!” she squealed, excited.  “I think it’s due to the sexy photos I sent to the editor.”

“You sent him sexy photos?”

“I like to be the social lubricant that helps my man get deals done.”

With the Artist’s “Signature”

Before Artist’s Signature

“I do it dirtier”

[The mini-series “Mount Bliss” continues from “Girlfriends.”]

Lo was just about to walk out of Suzanne’s room, finally, when Suzanne called to her, “Lo.  One more thing.”

Lo turned around.  Suzanne had removed the comforter from her bed and put it in Lo’s arms.  “Drop this in the laundry please.”

Lo didn’t ask questions.  She could feel the cum from me leaking out of her ass and also some from her earlier encounter leaking from her pussy down the inside of her thigh.

That parting word from Suzanne further exacerbated Lo’s misgivings about this newly formed “friendship.”

Lo walked down the dark hallway to the laundry area, dropped the comforter in the machine, and then began walking back towards the room we were sharing, but her return to my side got interrupted.  Collin appeared from out of the darkness, holding in his hand a tumbler of scotch on the rocks.

“How’d that go?” he asked in a whisper.

After the initial fright of seeing him, Lo burst into tears in his arms and cried.  To his credit, he held her and comforted her.  He then led her to his room, not mine.  Foiled again.

In his spacious bedroom, Lo said she wanted to shower.  She repeated her performance of the previous night, stripping down in front of him and getting clean in the open-plan shower as he watched from the bed.

Just after she had turned off the water, he stood next to her holding a plush towel for her.  She took it, dried off and then he held her naked body and kissed her.

“Lo, how I wish I could. . .”  He trailed off.  He kissed her passionately and she reciprocated.  Out of force of habit or sheer lust, she removed his clothes until he was naked.  She dropped down to the floor, her knees by his feet, her mouth by his flaccid cock.  She remembered Suzanne’s words, “a man who pursues power.”

Lo, in her complex psychology, not only wanted to give Collin the feeling of power that his impotent phallus couldn’t provide, but, in so doing, gain the upper hand.  All Lo’s life she had used her body, her sexuality, her physicality, her animalistic lust, and her intellect to dominate men.  She liked the feeling of superiority that her feminine allure gave her over weak, needy, desperate men.  Knowing that a simple yet mysterious glance, an inadvertent caress, an apparently careless reveal could put a man fully in her power pleased her.  She didn’t have to sleep with him to experience the high of this advantage.  It was satisfying enough to know her relative position vis-à-vis men without being in the physical position of dominating them.  But, the sex was often an added bonus.

Perhaps that was why she not only liked or loved me, but remained with me.  I was the only man who dared say no to her.  I was her great challenge.  And loving other men was just one of the tools she used to keep me cumming to her.  Simultaneously, my permissiveness and apparent lack of jealousy and independence of her was her Everest.  I knew full well that the day I forbade her her freedom, denied her her sexual denizens, or revealed any indication of my being beholden to her magical spell, that would be the day that she would move on to a bigger challenge.

I digress.  Lo had found a way to build Collin’s deflated ego through the use of his droopy dick, the source of his diminished self-esteem.

Lo sat on the floor of the shower, spread her legs wide, leaned back, supporting her weight with her arms, and looked up at Collin.  “Grab it,” she commanded.

“What?”

“Grab it.”

Collin reached down and held his sloping shlong in his right hand.

“Aim,” instructed Lo.

“What?”

“Point it at me and shoot.”

Now Collin caught on.

“Use it.  Drench me.  Disgrace me.  Degrade me.  Cover me in your urine.  Soak me in your pee.  Humiliate me in your hot piss.”

Lola began fingering her hole as Collin confidently released his stream, raining down on Lo’s head, hair, face, chest, tits, tum, and pussy.

“Come on!” she said, opening her mouth.  “Just like at the amusement park.”

He got it in, filling her up until he ran out of ammunition.

Ready, Aim, Fire!

“You like that?” she asked him.

“That was. . . crazy,” he said, clearly stunned by the sloppy slut slipping and sliding on the tiles by his feet.

She slithered toward him and stretched her wet hands up his legs to his cock and took it in her mouth.  No response, as she suspected.  But she enjoyed it nonetheless.

She stood, rubbing her wet body against his hard body and then kissed him, open mouth, while simultaneously cupping his balls in her right hand.

“Whatever Suzanne does,” she said in an authoritative whisper, “I do dirtier.”

She knew she had him in her power now.  Even if he couldn’t get it up, showing his appreciation with his rigid manhood, or cum for her like a suppliant pouring forth tribute, she knew he was hers.  She had conquered her quest.  She had ascended the top of Mount Bliss.

[Note from us: We are approaching the last few installments of the Mount Bliss mini-series. Have we lost you? Are you still enjoying this? We see many of you click the “like” buttons, but not many comments. Let us know your thoughts please.]

Craving Attention

[The Mount Bliss mini-series continues from Will You Come With Me?.]

Collin led Lo down the hall and up the stairs to Suzanne’s bedroom.  They were about to enter when Lo stopped, realizing where they were.

“What’s the matter?” asked Collin.

“I don’t want to go in there,” said Lo.

“It’s ok,” he said.  “She was belligerent earlier.  She had had too much to drink.  But she wants to apologize to you as well.  She asked me to bring you here so she could do so in person and in private.”

He opened the door.

To Lo’s surprise, he didn’t go in with her.  She felt like she was being led to the lion’s den.

Shadow and Bandit, who had been at the foot of the bed, immediately stood up and ran to Lola, sniffing her crotch with great interest.

Lo walked in furtively.  She pet the dogs on the head, both to be friendly and in an attempt to keep them at bay.  Suzanne was sitting in a reading chair next to the bed nursing a drink.

“Sit,” she said.

Lo didn’t know if it was a command to the dogs or an invitation intended for herself.  As a result, she felt at an embarrassing disadvantage.

“Me?” she asked, upset that the first interaction they had in this exchange was a confusion about whether Suzanne was talking to Lo or the dogs.  It put Lo and Suzanne on very unequal footing and Lo couldn’t help but think that it was intended to do so.

“Yes.  Have a seat.”  The only place to sit was on the bed.

“That’s ok,” said Lo.  She stood awkwardly, like a schoolgirl who had gotten in trouble and was asked to stay for detention before the teacher.

The dogs were by her.  Bandit, the taller of the two dogs, was licking her ass.  Shadow licked the droplets that had oozed down to Lo’s ankles.  Lo didn’t know how to stop them or to stop the leak from between her legs.  She squeezed her ass cheeks tightly.

“No, really.  Sit,” said Suzanne.

Lo sat on the edge of the bed.  Bandit and Shadow crowded between her legs, trying to get their snouts up and in there.

“Stop it you two!” said Suzanne to the dogs.  “I don’t know what’s gotten into them.  They’re crazy about you.”

Lo tried to shut her legs, unsuccessfully.

Suzanne pulled the dogs back.

“It’s my fault,” she said.  “I spoil them.  That’s why I asked you to come here.  I wanted to apologize for Shadow’s atrocious behavior earlier.”

“It’s ok,” said Lo, flatly.  She wanted the apology to be over with already.  The amends were worse than the offence.

“You see,” began Suzanne, “ever since Collin’s unfortunate accident, I’ve been bereft of his spousal consortium, as the courts put it.”

“He hasn’t been able to fuck you,” said Lo bluntly.  She didn’t like Suzanne and she definitely didn’t like that she was being treated like a hostage in Suzanne’s room at the moment.  She tried to turn the tables on her.

“Yes,” said Suzanne without emotion.

“There are other methods of partners sharing intimacy,” added Lo, switching to her helping mode.

“As you no doubt have found,” began Suzanne with more than a hint of accusation in her voice, “Collin is hardly capable of intimacy.  He is a man of means, a person who pursues power, a physically imposing presence.  All things I found attractive about him before the accident.  But the accident changed everything.  It was hell seeing him disabled.  Living with him was unbearable.  But, to his credit, he was not only a self-made man, he was self-made twice!  He remade himself after the accident, in every way except one.  And that one deficit has defined him.  It eats away at him.  He has a terrible need to be everything he once was and is crushed by the disappointment that in the way that mattered most to him then is lost to him now.”

“I can understand that, but there are other ways to. . .” began Lola.

“He’s a tyrant!” interrupted Suzanne.  “He can’t connect.  He won’t allow me to have another man, or many men, like you,” she said.  She again sounded accusatory.

“How do you know about me?” asked Lola.

“Lily,” said Suzanne, simply.

Of course.

“Lily is and has always been madly in love with Collin, and with good reason,” said Suzanne.  “He treats her like a daughter.”  There was a long pause.  “Better than a daughter.  Almost like a daughter and a mistress.  Don’t get me wrong, there was never anything untoward about his relations with her.”

Oh no, she just has lured female companions to him like a procuress.

“He has shown her the attention she craves and she has reciprocated by trying to please him in every way.”

“So why wouldn’t she just bring young studs back here to fuck you?”

Suzanne laughed, amused at Lo’s innocence.  “Haven’t you heard what I’ve been saying?  That would be a double insult to Collin.  First to his ego and second to his relationship with Lily.  He has to be the center of attention.  He has to be the alpha-male.  He can’t handle any other man, even a young man, fucking his prized possession.”  She said this with great irony since, rather than be treated as a prized possession, she was treated as a prisoner within her gilded cage.

“But he’s ok with. . .”  Lo didn’t continue the sentence.  She just looked down at the two hounds that lay at Suzanne’s feet.  They immediately perked up their ears and gave looks of anticipation to Lo, hoping that her noticing them meant that she’d play with them soon.

“Lola, Collin is the alpha-male.  The fact that I have needs, that I’m beholden to my body, that I stoop so low, only feeds his own ego.  He delights in my desperation.”

“Then leave.  Leave him.  Leave this.  Get a life.”  Lo finally said what she had wanted to say since she first met Suzanne, or at least since she first heard rumor of the “special understanding” that Suzanne and Collin had.

Again Suzanne laughed a sad, humorless laugh that rang out like a bell tolling the knell of defeat.  “Bless your little heart,” she said, allowing her southern accent to emerge.  “If I only could.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because, Lola, he’s right.  I am desperate.  I am beholden.  I am pitifully and pathetically attached to him in more ways than one.  With him, let’s face it, I get everything I want, except one thing.  And that can easily be replaced,” she said, rubbing the fur of Shadow with her bare foot.

“One thing?!” shouted Lo.  “It’s way more than one thing.  It’s not just sex.  It’s intimacy.  A partner.  Companionship.”

Before she could go on, Suzanne stood up and began to pace.  The dogs watched her every move carefully.

“Forget all that,” said Suzanne, taking a sip of her drink.  “I have wealth, status, amusements,” she said, putting her hand on Lo’s shoulder.

Lo looked up at her, genuinely terrified.  She wasn’t going to be talked down to, so she stood up, uncomfortably close to Suzanne who still was a head taller than Lo.

“You’re not interested in getting out,” Lo decried.  “You two are co-dependent.  You get what you want and he gets what he wants.  You. . .”  Lo was going to say, “You like it,” but she got cut off.

“Call it whatever you want,” said Suzanne.  “He abuses me and I take the abuse.”

“You’re not the victim in all this,” said Lo, confronting her.  “You just want to play one.”

“What the hell would you know about it?  You have your cuckold of a man who lets you whore your way from door-to-door.  It works for you.  You are in no position to judge.”

“I’m not judging, Suzanne.  I’m just. . .”

“You think you’re so smart.  You got it all figured out.  You’re what, all of twenty-four, twenty-five?  You think you know how things work, how people work.  Well, you’ve got a lot to learn.  A lot.”

Suzanne’s sinister streak was making its appearance again.  Lo was on edge.  She didn’t want to be there in the first place.  This was supposed to be an apology to her, but now she was on the receiving end of Suzanne’s invectives.

“I don’t have to take this,” she said.  “I’m your guest and, until today, you’ve treated me very well.  But I don’t have to take this.”

“My guest?  Did I invite you here?  No.  Collin did.  Collin and his little niece, Lily.”  She said “niece” like it was a curse.  “You’re just pretty decorations, like his art or his wallpaper.  You just brighten up the room for him.  You’re not my guest.”

Lo began to walk toward the door.  Suzanne got in front of it, blocking her exit.

“Did you like it?” asked Suzanne.

“What?”

“You know what.”

. . .

“I don’t have to answer to you,” said Lo.  They were looking eye-to-eye, but Suzanne had a height advantage, especially because she was in heels.

“I see you.  I see who and what you are.”

“And I see you too,” said Lo right back to her.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

In a whisper, Suzanne said, “I can’t leave him.  He has evidence.”  She drew out the final sibilant of “evidence” in a way that caused Lo to think of the snake in the Garden of Eden.  Lo was frozen by Suzanne’s sinister look.  “And now,” Suzanne added, “I have something on you too.”

“What do you want?” asked Lo, very scared of what Suzanne might be capable of doing.

“What do you think I want?”

A thousand different blackmail scenarios played out in Lo’s mind.  But it was impossible for her to see into the depths of Suzanne’s dark eyes.  She was inscrutable.

Lo waited.  Suzanne moved from blocking the door.  She knew she had a captive audience now and didn’t need to use any physical barriers to prevent Lo’s departure.  She took her time and walked around the room as she spoke, her heels clicking on the wooden floor.

[For unabridged, please send an email requesting it: downloladown@gmail.com]

Will You Come With Me?

[The Mount Bliss mini-series continues from I Want to Drown in Lola Down.]

 

She licked my lance from tip to taint with a worshipful devotion before turning on her side and pressing her caboose into my pelvis.  She moaned, “Slide back in my ass, Daddy.  That’s where I want you to cum.”

In I pierced her from behind without the slightest bit of resistance.  She and I were both saturated by her super soaker and the spunk of her previous coital conjunction.

I was deep inside her and ready to fulfill her wishes when suddenly there was a knock at the door to the bedroom.

We both froze.  We listened intently.  Silently.  Another furtive knock.  Rap, rap rap.

In the still muted darkness I could feel my heart pounding and the pulse of my blood throbbing through my swollen saber lodged deeply in Lo’s spare sheath.  Pump, pump, pump.  Each heartbeat felt like a violent thrust inside her.

To my astonishment, Lola said quietly but confidently, “Come in.”

The door opened slowly and silhouetted in the frame was the unmistakable outline of Collin.  He stepped into the room and approached Lola’s side of the bed.  He walked slowly, probably because he had difficulty seeing in the sudden darkness.  He stood over the two of us, imposingly.

“I’m sorry to disturb you like this,” he said in a hushed tone.

If I disliked him before, I despised him now.

“What’s up?” asked Lo.

My cock was up, up inside her hooha, waiting to climax in a spectacular array of orgasmic delight.

“I just wanted to apologize,” he said slowly.

Couldn’t this just wait till morning?

Lo didn’t ask what he was apologizing for.  She patiently kept silent and allowed him to continue at his own pace.  For once he was fumbling for words.

“You see, uh, I’m not sure how to explain this.  But.  Suzanne.  She and I.”

Get on with it!  I am a man on a mission.

“Here, sit,” said Lo, pulling the covers back to reveal her naked body.  She shoved her ass further into my pelvis to make room for him.  I felt my cock penetrate parts of her that it had never probed before.

Collin sat down as Lo’s breasts, tum, and pussy were all exposed to him and I, the big spoon, was cuddling her from behind, conjoined to her body through her anus.

“What is it, Collin?” she asked kindly, touching his hand.  “You can tell me anything.”

“Well, Suzanne and I.  You know that we haven’t had marital relations for many years now.”

This was news to me.

“And you know why,” he continued.

No, I don’t know why.  But Lo just looked at him with gentle understanding.

“Go on,” she said.

“Well, for many of those years she. . . well, you can probably guess.”

Come out and say it, I thought.

“Anyhow,” continued Collin, “I wanted to apologize for her.  Her behavior.  And for Shadow.  I’m very sorry all that happened.”

“It’s ok, Collin,” said Lo, taking his hand and putting it on her naked body just above her hip.  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

He’s apologizing to you!  Why would you do anything for him?

Collin looked at me.  His eyes had adjusted to the dim light.  “HH,” he said, “You have a good one here.  A really special lady.  Don’t let her get away.”  As he said that, he caressed her breast.

“Let her get away?” I asked.  “You say that as if I have her locked down like a caged animal.  The reality is quite the opposite.”

“Yes,” purred Lola as Collin squeezed her bosom.  “Kiss me,” she instructed him.

He leaned over and kissed her.  Her ass jutted back, taking more of my cock, if that was possible.

She gave him a long, open mouthed kiss and I could feel her muscles clench around my cock.  Collin was clearly enraptured by Lo’s pure sexuality.  As they continued to kiss, I exploded deep inside her.  I could hold out no longer.  The pent-up energy from a week of celibacy was too much for me to bear.  I could feel the warm wetness that I had injected into her surrounding my cock.  She felt it too and her hand moved up Collin’s strong arm and gripped his bicep firmly as she clenched her ass, clutching my cock, squeezing every last drop out of it.

It was not how I had hoped to consummate our reunion.

“Will you come with me?” asked Collin, unaware apparently that I had just cum in her.

“What?” asked Lo.  She probably thought he had asked her to cum with him.  Hard to tell if the words are not written on the page.

“Come with me,” he repeated.  “I want to show you something.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Is it ok, HH?” Lo asked, turning her head over her shoulder to look at me.  It was really just a formality.  She knew what I’d say.  Do I ever deny her anything?

“Sure,” I said, trying to conceal my resentment.

Lo began to move forward and I slowly slid out of her ass as she released me.  I flopped out of her and she dribbled a bit on me from her ass as her anus simultaneously made a sloppy slurping sound.

I could see her gingerly maneuvering her legs over the side of the bed.  She stood up, naked, and kept her legs and ass cheeks clenched tightly as she slid on her thong panties and slipped into a sheer beach coverup.

“Be back soon,” she said, as she turned to blow me a kiss.  I imagine that she leaked right over that little thong of hers, down her legs.

She shut the door behind her.