Tag Archives: Cum

Meet Cailah

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Cailah

We want to introduce you all to our friend Cailah, an OF creator, MILF, and avid reader of literotica!

Cailah reading Match, Cinder & Spark, Vol. V

There’s been a lot of talk lately about Twitter’s OnlyFans site. First Twitter said they were going to ban sexually explicit material, but then when they realized that they would go the way of Tumblr.  If you recall, as many of us in the kink community do with great disdain, Tumblr sold for $1.1 billion to Yahoo in 2013. Yahoo wanted Tumblr to be allowed as an app on iPhones and so banned any sexually explicit content.  Result: Tumblr sold in 2017 for only $3 million to WordPress! Just goes to show, don’t take away the guys and gals who give you free content and make you rich.

After huge outcry, mainly because, in the wake of this global pandemic that has put so many people, not only sex-workers, out of business, OF was a great way to stay safe and earn a living. And a lot of moms, like Cailah, took advantage of that market.

Sexy Cailah telling you what she wants to do

Luckily, Twitter realized its stupidity and revoked its ban on sexual content. But not before a number of content creators had jumped ship to find other, less prudish, outlets for their sexual energy, creativity, and entrepreneurial spirit.

Cailah topless

How will this all shake out? My take is, the more outlets for people to earn a living, the better. But it does become challenging to find the main spot for creative spirits.

Cailah looks interested

You can now find Cailah at:

https://fansly.com/BeautifulDisaster69/posts

Professional Cailah Photo

 

Cailah Short Shorts

Cailah likes to ride

The Beautiful End

A Time to Love

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Lola’s older sister, Roberta Go

“Gazing at the written world, seeing the elegant self-restraint that guards an inner decomposition, a biological decay until the last moment from the prying eyes of the world; that bilious, sensually disadvantaged ugliness that is able to kindle its smoldering fire into a pure flame and to even usurp the throne in the kingdom of beauty.”

– Death in Venice, Thomas Mann

 

“Really?” asked Lo as I mixed the gin in with the tonic and sliced up a sliver of lime.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s not even noon.”

“What is time in a global pandemic anyway?”

We were two weeks into lockdown.  We were stranded in paradise.  Far away from our everyday hustle and bustle, cold weather, friends and family, we followed the dire warnings about travel a week into our winter vacation to the beachside resort town.  The sun was shining, the sea breeze gently moderating the temperature, the inviting golden sand beckoning us to walk through it barefoot.  But all the amenities of this place were off-limits.  One-by-one each pleasurable pastime was shut down, cordoned off, closed – first the bars and restaurants, then the beach itself, and finally the boardwalk.  We were allowed to walk on the sidewalks, but that was it.  There was nowhere to go anyhow.  We could take our lives in our hands and go to the supermarket to get necessities (if we could find them on the bare shelves), but we didn’t want to do that and we made as infrequent visits there as possible.

News of sickness, disease, and death were filtering into every media channel.  It seemed that even if we didn’t watch the news, we still couldn’t escape it – it was in the air.  The stock market was tumbling down off a cliff, unemployment was spiking, and anxiety was everywhere.  We couldn’t hug our neighbors for comfort, for they may be the vicious vector conveying the virus within their sincere attempt at reassurance.

Lola and I were utterly alone on the 25th floor of a resort hotel overlooking the vacant beaches and streets with nothing but the brilliant yellow, blue, and wisps of white for company.  On the horizon we could make out three giant cruise ships forbidden from docking for fear of their deadly cargo.  We were informed that the virus was rampant and people dropping with asphyxiation on the decks, desperately looking to the shore for some sort of assistance, in vain.

Death surrounded us.  So why not have a gin-and-tonic after breakfast?  I had plunged into nihilism.

Yes, I still had Lola as my companion, but there was little for me to write about regarding “my sexlife with Lola.”  Her trysts, flirtations, and dogging down by the pool area were prohibited by the pandemic.  Yes, she still masturbated three, four, five times a day, but I’ve written about that in such detail and with such frequency that there is hardly anything new I could bring to the topic.  Our lives beat on with the same monotony as the repetitive waves upon the shore.

Until one day our desperation to escape the gloom of death and destruction was relieved.  We found solace in the strangest of places.  While preparing for her Friday morning fap session, Lo was doing her usual foreplay routine which includes checking her elicit email account.  In it, she discovered a missive from her sister Robie, whom she hadn’t seen for a dozen years or more.  Even with me, she had only mentioned her in passing as her “estranged sibling.”  All I knew about her was that she was older and residing abroad.  How on earth did she find Lo’s secret email account?

After getting the email, Lo called me into the bedroom and explained some of the backstory.

“She’s older and when we were kids we slept in the same bed.  It became. . . interesting. . . when she grew boobs.  Long story short, we got caught, she got kicked out of the house and sent to boarding school and then to Europe.  We were separated for a long time.”

“Why did she suddenly write to you now?” I asked.

“I’m getting there,” said Lo, still naked under the sheets, slowly stroking between her legs as she spoke, “During COVID lockdown she needed something to help her get off.  She was scouring the internet to find the really dirty stuff.  She came across (and to) our blog and, because I don’t show my face, was fapping to it regularly, not knowing it was me – her sister – that was making her horny, until one day she noticed something that gave me away.  She reached out and sent this photo of her with the ebook of Match, Cinder & Spark.”

Robie with our ebook

She showed me the photo.  I was in a state of shock; first by the events that led to this interaction and then by the family resemblance I saw between Lo and Robie.

“She’s beautiful,” I uttered unconsciously.

Lo took offense.  Always jealous.

“I mean, she looks so much like you.  It’s a compliment.”

Apparently Lo, being the younger sister, always took a backseat to Robie.  My comment brought back all those jealousy issues.

Since that first email exchange as adults, the two have reconnected on a number of levels, not least of which is that they frequently get off to each other long-distance.

I suppose the ever-present, yet occasionally more pressing, specter of death can reunite as well as rend.

Robie showing that she has been using Lo to get off

Protected: Lola Springs Eternal

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The Master

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[Continued from Immoral Support.]

Lo’s Casual Connection Clothes

It was a long, tense time of waiting, but ultimately Cam tested negative for pregnancy.  Lo was elated.  Not only did it mean that the lucky winner wouldn’t be from the corrupted batch of sperm, but it also meant another session with Ted.  Unfortunately, that’s not how it turned out.  When the Bat-signal was given, indicating that Cam’s ovulation was at hand, Lo couldn’t make it on the evening when Ted would be there.  As a consolation prize, Lo sent Ted a few sexy pics.  He reciprocated by sending Lo a photo of him in the act of donating, using Lo’s photo as inspiration.  Lo was over the moon with joy and arousal when she saw his pic.

Yet another month passed and the magic potion had not produced the desired effect.

Lo and Ted’s services were required again and this time Lo didn’t disappoint.  She showed up early, wearing one of her most slutty outfits – tight jeans, jackpot top, and leather boots.

A Look at Lo

She walked in like a boss and chatted with Cam and Gina as they awaited Ted’s arrival.  Lo could tell she had their attention and she liked it.  She basks in sexual energy directed at her.  Cam and Gina revealed that Ted had shown them the very explicit photo he had used last time.  Lo feigned indignation, saying, “That was private!  For his eyes only!”  But she added, “Well, I guess that makes it ok for me to show you this,” and she proudly displayed the pornographic photo Ted had sent her.

The women had a good laugh about Ted’s less-than-average sized cock, but they both assured Lo of his skill in bed.  (I know that I have described Ted’s member as “long, hefty meat,” but I was relying on Lo’s description, prior to the visual evidence.)

Ready to Donate

“I wouldn’t know,” said Lo, referring to their praise of his sexual skill.  “I’m here strictly for clinical purposes.  It’s purely Pavlovian.  I elicit a response that produces the desired effect in order to facilitate the procreative process.  It’s quite literally the closest I will ever get to being a biological parent.  But it’s a role I’m used to,” she said enigmatically, referring, of course, to her crucial part in bringing about the very writing you are reading.  She is the active agent in this alchemical magic causing a conception in the mind.

Ted walked in, greeted the trio, and entered the bedroom.  Lo followed.

“Let’s not have any missed opportunities,” said Lo, referring to the trajectory of Ted’s last salvo that had landed so far off target.  “I’ll take matters into my own hands this time.  Drop your pants,” commanded Lo like a doctor in the examination room.

Ted complied and Lo grabbed the plastic cup in one hand and with the other she stroked Ted’s cock.  She did it professionally, detached, again, like a doctor performing a routine exam. He was standing, hunched over.  Lo leaned over slightly and whispered in his ear.

“Feel good?”

“Yes.”

“You like how I tug you?”

“Yes.”

“I have a lot of practice.  A lot.”

Indecipherable groan.

“You’ll tell me when you’re close.”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to cum for me?”

“Yes.”

“Cum for me.  Cum for me.  Cum for me.”

Did Ted know that Lo was reenacting the scene from The Master in which Amy Adams jacked off Phillip Seymour Hoffman?    Need I say, she performed masterfully.

The Master with Amy Adams and Phillip Seymour Hoffman

Cum he did and Lo’s dexterous hands insured that every last drop was collected for its intended use by Cam and Gina.

Immoral Support

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Lo Bursting her Blouse

[Continued from Brass in Pocket]

 

“You can’t use lube, moisturizer, not even spit or pussy juice,” warned Cam.  “The fitness of the sperm depends upon it.”

“I understand,” said Lo, clinically neutral in tone.

Ted had seen Lo’s photo and was intrigued.  He consented to have her help in the donation room.

“I might just observe the first time,” said Lo.

We had been invited to Cam and Gina’s house for dinner in order to meet Ted.  It was awkward at first.  But Lo’s seductive stares boosted Ted’s ego, I’m sure.  I don’t think Lo was as attracted to him, per se, as she was attracted to the idea of being a facilitator for a man to ejaculate.  The set-up captivated her more than the stud.

Lo got the call from Cam one afternoon.  “It’s time.”

Off she went to their house the next day.  I stayed home.  I was superfluous to the process.  This was two people trying to conceive, after all, not a spectator sport.

Lo and Ted went into the spare bedroom as Cam and Gina were in the master bedroom.  Lo had worn a button-down white shirt with a collar.  It seemed two sizes too small for her.  Under it she wore a lacey red bra.  She had on a short leather miniskirt with a red lace thong under it.  On her feet were red heels.  Her toenails and fingernails were fire engine red, as were her lips.  She was the picture of crimson seduction.

She sat in a corner chair in the bedroom.  Ted stood over the bed.

“I usually look at some porn on my phone,” he said to Lo.

“Go right ahead,” replied Lo.

“I don’t really need to today,” he said shyly.  “I mean, if you don’t mind me looking at you.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess.  You look great,” he said.

“Pull out your cock,” Lo said, not mincing words.

Ted unzipped and reached into his boxers to pull out his long, hefty meat.

“Take off your pants.  You have to aim that thing and those will just be in the way,” said Lo, indicating the plastic cup on the bed that had a diameter of about three inches.  “Come on, don’t be shy.  This is for Cam and Gina.”

He pulled out his cock.  It was limp.

“Mmmmm,” moaned Lo, encouragingly.  She licked her tongue over her pearly white teeth.

“Do you like cock?”

“You have no idea,” she said.  “Do you like tits?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you like mine?” she asked, boosting her tits with her arms so they burst out of her small bra and blouse.

“They’re hot.”

“Jack it.”

Ted began to stroke his cock.

“What turns you on?” asked Lo.

“Um, I, uh, I don’t know,” he said, his cock getting soft again in his hand.

“Tell me.  I won’t tell anyone.”

“I like dirty talk.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“I like women to say nasty things.”

Lo leaned over in her chair.  She rested her head on her hands and her elbows rested on the bed.  Her mouth was mere inches away from his cock.  She looked up at him.

“Cum for me.  Stroke your long, thick cock and cum for me.”

Ted began stroking.  He inched forward toward Lo’s face.

“That’s it.  Pretend I’m a little whore who wants to swallow your hot jiz.”

She put her tongue out and she could tell he was about to cum.  She held up the receptacle to the tip of his penis and. . .

“Holy shit!” said Lo, her face covered in Ted’s torrent.  “You totally missed!”

“What are we going to do now?” he asked, scared.

Lo used her fingers and swiped as much of the sticky pearlescent goo into the container as she could.

“We can’t do that,” protested Ted.

“Shut up and get me a towel.”

Ted complied.

Handing her the towel, he apologized obsequiously.  “I’m so so sorry.  I don’t know how that happened.  I guess I was excited.  I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok,” laughed Lo.  “I liked it.  Now just play it cool.”

“But,” Ted began to protest.

“It’s ok.  Just give them the collection jar.  I don’t wear makeup.  Only on my eyes and luckily you missed my eyes.”

Lo’s Lips

Brass in Pocket

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Continued from ICI – Home Insemination with a Known Donor

Lola uses her arms

 

“What do you think you’re going to do with this Ted?” I asked Lo as we drove home from Cam and Gina’s.

“I like to imagine what he’s going to do with me,” she responded, looking out the window into the middle distance as the storefronts and pedestrians streamed by on the illuminated street.

“What does that mean?  You heard them, he’s involved with a guy.”

“Meh,” she sounded, dismissively.

“Meh?  What if you get in the room with him and he can’t get it up?”

“He won’t agree to it if he thought that would happen.”

“What if he doesn’t agree to it?”

“You miss every pitch you don’t swing at.”

“Clever, but in this instance, he’s holding the bat.”

“I sure hope he is!”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I’ve been called worse. . . and I like it.”

“This is Cam and Gina’s attempt at getting pregnant, not your opportunity to turn a trick.”

“When a door closes, a window opens.”

“Will you stop with the platitudes.  They’re not even appropriate.”

“Are you jealous, Daddy?” she asked, suddenly realizing that she might be turning me on with her antics.

“No, I’m confused.”

“There’s nothing to be confused about, Daddy.  It’s all very straightforward.”

“Explain.”

“I love to see men jacking off.  You know that.  You don’t do it for me nearly enough.”

“I hardly have the opportunity; you’re on me before I can even stroke it.”

“Nevertheless.  Here is a perfect chance to see a man do it, live, in person.  Not just photos.”

“But it’s a complicated situation.”

We arrived home.  When we were in the bedroom, we continued the conversation.

“I am troubled by your enthusiasm for this ‘helping hand’ business.”

“It’s not a business. . . yet, but who knows.  Maybe I could become a fertility assistant – like a midwife, but instead of aiding in the birth of a baby, I aid in the ejaculatory process.”

“Lo, be serious for a moment.”

“I was,” she said, deadpan.

“Sometimes I think you believe yourself to be God’s gift to men.”

“And on the eighth day, God said, ‘Let there be Lola.’  Eve can be a helpmate.  I’ll be the playmate.”

“After a day of rest, God had a wet dream and Lo and behold!”

“Lo and behold.  I like that.  I’m Lo, you’re Behold.”

I took out my cock and grabbed it for her.

“To have and to hold, ʼtil death do you part,” she said.

“So, if I were Ted, what would you do?”

“The possibilities are endless.  Should I give him my ass, Daddy?”

“You can’t, remember?  The specimen has to be immaculate.”

“I’m insulted!!!  Are you saying my ass isn’t immaculate?”

“No, I was just saying. . .”

“Immaculate conception, right.  I’m just teasing you.  Should I lick him?”

“Off limits.”

“Jerk him off?”

“No lubricants allowed.”

“I could use my feet.”

“That’s ok.”
She broke into song:

 

Gonna use my arms,

Gonna use my legs,

Gonna use my style,

Gonna use my sidestep,

Gonna use my fingers,

Gonna use my, my, my imagination.

 

With each lyric, she pantomimed the part.  She used her arms to boost up her breasts; she got on her back to spread her legs; she licked her lips slowly, seductively, she put her fingers down her panties, and then, she squirted just as I came.

“I see I got your attention.”

“Yes, you did.  Now, if you can just get Ted to do that.”

“Oh, I will, don’t you worry.”

Lola uses her legs

ICI – Home Insemination with a Known Donor

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Lo & HH

In this brave new world of ours nothing is straight.  Time and space are curved, our DNA is a double helix, and people certainly are kinky!  We have friends who are a married couple: Gina and Cam (shortened from Cammie).  Gina is a lipstick lesbian, a femme.  Or is she?  I ask because Cam, who, when we met her identified as a woman, is now gender neutral and goes by “They, Them, Theirs.”  She cut her long hair and now sports a pixie haircut with a little cow-lick in the front.  She wears flannel often and does her best to flatten the curve of her breast.

To add to the gender complexity, in the past, Cam has revealed to Lo and me privately that Gina “hasn’t sworn off of dick and has left the door open to fucking guys in the future.”  Despite how sunny of a spin Cam put on this revelation, it was expressed with overtones of disappointment or hope that one day she – I mean they – could or would be able to be provide that dick for Gina.  But, like all else in this world, if that situation did come to pass, isn’t it inevitable that Gina would then express a yen for pussy?  None of us can be everything for our partners.

Yet one more twist: Recently Gina and Cam announced their intent to become pregnant.  In order to facilitate this occurrence, they informed us that they will use a “known donor” and that Cam will carry the baby.  How and why they arrived at this decision, we did not ask.  However, the other night they were over our house for dinner and, curious about all things related to sex and sexuality, Lo enthusiastically inquired about the schematics of this process.

“It’s not easy,” said Cam.  “It requires careful monitoring of my cycle, precise observation and recognition of when I’m ovulating.  Then I have to call up Ted, our donor, and see if he can clear his schedule.”

“Clear his schedule?” asked Lo.

“Yeah, for him to, uh, well, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.  Tell me.”

Even though Lo is fluent in all things sex, this process was not one she ever had reason to study.  She also is tenaciously curious.

“Ted has to, see, he’s the donor.  He has to come over, so to speak.  That is, he literally comes over our house to cum.”

“OH!” blurted out Lo, finally connecting the dots.

“Yeah, so, he needs to come over since there’s a small window of time.  He does what he needs to do into a receptacle.  While he’s busy bringing himself to a climax, Gina and I are in the bedroom.  She works at getting me to climax in order to increase our chances at conception.  It’s not scientifically proven that this actually aids in the process, but, what the hell, I enjoy it.  In order to get me cumming as quickly as possible, she usually goes down on me.  Then she sweeps in to collect the precious sample, places it in a fancy turkey baster, and bastes me from the inside.”

“But usually Ted takes more time to cum than Cam does,” added Gina.

I could see Lo’s machinations morphing in her imagination like quicksilver.

“Who is this Ted?”

“Oh, he’s a friend of ours from years back,” said Gina.

“How old is he?”

“About forty-five.”

“Forty-five?!  Really?”

“What’s wrong with forty-five?” I asked, feeling a bit defensive and surprised by Lo’s shock.

“Nothing, dear,” she said, conciliatory.  “I just mean, I thought they were going with someone their own age.”

“Why?” asked Cam.  “Sperm is good even through a man’s eighties.  He’s been tested and his sperm count is way high.”

“Oh, I know.  I just thought. . .”

She didn’t say what she just thought.

“He’s a great guy,” said Cam.  Gina smiled broadly in agreement.

“He’s actually the guy who introduced us.”

They went into a detailed backstory about how they met and the integral part Ted played in bringing them together.

“Is he gay or straight?” asked Lo, her gears turning.

Both of them giggled.

“What?” asked Lo defensively.

“Gender fluid,” said Gina.

Of course.  It was a foolish question for Lo, of all people, to ask.  So binary.  Lo, who identifies as “queer,” should have known better.

By the way they giggled, Lo became suspicious.  “Have either of you slept with him?”

More giggling.  Both of them admitted to sleeping with him together.

“Why not skip the middleman, ur, the middle jar, and just have him inseminate you directly?” asked Lo.

“We slept with him years ago, when we were first dating.  We’re married now,” said Cam, looking at Gina.

“And I think I’d get jealous if Cam conceived with him that way,” she admitted honestly.

“Also, he’s been dating a guy for like a year now and we don’t want to mess that up for him,” added Cam.

“Maybe I could help,” mused Lo, as if the idea just popped in her mind.

“How?” they both asked.

“Moral support,” said Lo.

“More like immoral support,” I muttered under my breath, knowing where Lo was going with this.  No one heard me.

“I imagine it’s a bit awkward and maybe even difficult for Ted to cum on command all alone, jerking off into a cup.”

Gina and Cam had inquisitive looks on their faces as Lo explained her idea.

“He could use some help,” was all Lo said.

“Like you’d help him cum?” Gina asked, looking at me for my reaction.

“Where does he do it?”

“There,” said Gina, pointing to their spare bedroom.

“And what’s he got in there to help him out?”

They both shrugged their shoulders.  “Maybe his phone?  We never asked.”

“Oh my God!” said Lo, feigning shock, “Even the sperm banks offer cheap magazines.”

“So what would you do?” asked Gina.

“I’d offer a helping hand,” replied Lo.

Gina and Cam both looked at me.  I shrugged my shoulders as if to say, “Whatever Lo wants, Lo gets.”

“I guess we could ask him,” said Cam.

“Yeah, ask him and see what he says.  Show him this photo of me.”

Lo texted them both one of her sexy images.  They looked at their phones.  It was clear both of them wanted Lo’s helping hands on them, but no one said anything.

Lo’s Audition Photo

 

I Need a Dirty Woman, I Need a Dirty Girl

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We were into December.  It had been almost a month since our last “drive-in” date with Ron and Nicole.  In the meantime, they kept up an intense correspondence with us through email.  Turns out that they have three kids, all under ten, and she has been dealing with some health issues that have impaired her energy and libido.  He is an avid nudist and exhibitionist who loves to go to clothing optional beaches and bare it all!  Although he doesn’t have that much to bare.  Not to worry, Lo is always intrigued by different shapes and sizes.

Ron

Poor Ron was eager to please – his wife and anyone who would have him.  Nicole, however, was not so keen on sex.  Even before her medical problems dampened her desire, she was not enthusiastic about her sex life with Ron.  They had dated since high school.  They were raised as good Catholic kids and told not to have sex before marriage.  They got married in their early twenties and that’s when Nicole was disabused of the adage “size doesn’t matter.”  No.  It really did matter for her.  But, due to her upbringing, she wasn’t able to think about alternatives.  Masturbation, sex toys, other partners were all off the table.  She wasn’t even comfortable with having sex in any other position than missionary.

Nicole

After the birth of their third child and the onset of medical issues, she not only couldn’t feel Ron’s cock, but wasn’t interested in it anymore either.

They had tried a couples’ counselor, a marriage therapist, and now were working with a sex coach.  They went to a woman Ron had found on the internet who specializes in Catholic sexuality.  She had suggested that they both explore their own bodies alone, with porn, erotica, or whatever excited them.  For Ron, that was easy – nude beaches, exposing himself, and being seen, even if only virtually were already in his wheelhouse.  He had discovered a number of websites where he could hang-out as much as he wished and no one would be offended.

Ron & Nicole – the happy couple

For Nicole, this was much more difficult because her sexual desire was directly related to her guilt.  She required multiple special sessions, one-on-one, with the sexologist.  Through the coaching, she slowly learned to appreciate sex and sexuality in a new way.  Rather than think of it as a necessary bodily function that had to be endured in order to achieve a certain result, much like relieving oneself in the privy, she was opened up to the idea that sex was sacred, divine, and a sacrament.  The Church doesn’t often promote this aspect of sex.  Why would they?  The officers of the institution are all celibate!  It would be like college professors encouraging students to get an education outside of academia.

Nicole

Slowly, Nicole came round to the notion of at least accepting her sexuality rather than being ashamed of it.  And that went for Ron’s sexuality as well – if Nicole could accept that she is a sexual being, then this was the first step to accepting that Ron is also a sexual being.  The next step was to realize that sexuality is not experienced or expressed uniformly.  It is like the sun – its origin is the same, but how it illuminates various objects depends on the individual make-up of each object.  Some are square and green.  Others are round and pink and white stripes.  Similarly, we all feel sexual urges, but they manifest differently for each of us.  For some that means hetero, monogamous, vaginal intercourse.  But for others, it can be expressed in a myriad of ways – from men wearing woman’s panties, to women donning strap-ons.

Nicole

This was a great hurdle for Nicole to overcome.  But, along the way, she was willing to try new things for the sake of the relationship.  Through Ron’s explorations of the interweb, he found Lola, struck up a correspondence, included Nicole, and eventually we had our first “date,” which I already described for you.  Through our correspondence, it became clear that Ron desperately wanted Lo and Nicole desperately wanted to be like Lo.

Nicole

Lola in her thong

They were eager to have a second date.  Due to COVID, we had to take the same precautions, but we arranged to meet in a remote spot, far outside of our city, so that the experience wouldn’t be foiled again.

Ron hanging out

Nicole’s medical issues had done things to her body that caused her even more shame.  She didn’t want us to be shocked so, in preparation for our second date and to help her become more comfortable with her body (that Ron, incidentally, found very desirable) she posed for some boudoir photos taken by her husband.  They emailed them to us.

“Do you still want to do this?” she asked, afraid we’d be turned off by how gravity distorted her once toned and tight flesh.

“Yes!” replied Lo, enthusiastically.  “Every body is beautiful in its own way.”

Much was the same on our second date as it was on the first.  Cold.  Late night.  Dark, vacant parking lot.  The two cars parked next to each other.  But this time Lo had put some thought into the “performance” she wished to put on for the struggling couple.  She stripped naked and danced seductively in front of their headlights.  They had on their high-beams and, thanks to the chill, Lo’s were on too!

Lo sauntered up to the passenger side window where Nicole sat and pressed her tits up against the glass.  Nicole and Ron had removed their clothing too and Lo could get an imperfect view of them behind the frosted glass and through the round figure eight where her tits had melted the icy coating.

Nicole

Lo returned to the car where we had the heat blasting and took out her phone.  She called Ron.  Their phone was on speaker, as was ours.

“Did you like what you saw?” Lo asked.

“Very much,” replied Ron.

“Are you hard?” asked Lo.

“As hard as I can get,” he said.

“Yeah, I saw.  Two inches?”

“Slightly longer than that, when I’m hard.”

“I’m stroking him,” chimed in Nicole.

“Suck him,” commanded Lo.

“Can we watch you suck off HH?” she asked.

Lo looked up at me.  “Will you stay hard if we go outside?”

“For you, darling, anything.”

First she warmed me up in the car with her mouth, the wetness of which only made the shock of the cold air even more acute.

We got in front of the headlights and Lo got on her knees, taking me in her mouth.

We lasted like that for about a minute or so, but then hopped back into the heated car.

Nicole said that Ron had cum already.

“What about you?”

“I haven’t cum in ages,” she said with a certain sadness in her voice.  She also sounded resigned to this fact.

“HH is going to suck on my hard nipples,” said Lo, taking me to her chest.  “I can cum through nipple stimulation alone.”  She didn’t mean to sound as if she was bragging, but wanted to inform them why she’d soon be moaning and even calling out that she’s cumming.

Lo’s Orgasmic Nipples

“I wish I could,” said Nicole.

As I sucked, bit, stretched, nibbled, and tongued Lo’s nipples, we could hear Ron and Nicole getting their clothes back on.  They drove away as Lo climaxed, but they left the phone on to hear it.

When Lo regained her composure, she went down on me as I put the car in reverse and drove home.

Truthfully, I forgot that Lo’s phone was still on as I commented about how hot Lo was and what a show she put on for the couple.

Lo occasionally took her lips off of my cock to remark about how she wished we weren’t in COVID times so she could have let Nicole suck her tits through the window or so she could have gone over to the driver’s side, reached down between Ron’s legs and give him a handjob.

She resumed sucking as I drove the abandoned streets.  She said she wished that Nicole would wear a strap-on and fuck her over the hood of the car.

Suddenly, through Lo’s phone, we heard moaning and heavy breathing.  It was loud – loud enough for us to hear it over my own heavy breathing and Lo’s slurping.  It was Nicole.  She was cumming.

Ron informed us after the peak had subsided that Nicole masturbated (for the first time!) in the car on the ride home, listening to us and the dirty things Lo was saying and she managed to bring herself to a clitoral climax.

Mission accomplished.

 

Interview With a Sex Addict

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Interview with a Sex Addict 

AL gets a new monitor to look at Lo in hi-def while working from home, his wife in the next room

This week, we bring out our resident admitted and diagnosed sex addict, AL, who goes by “Al.”  He graciously agreed to answer a few questions about sex addiction, for educational purposes.  Lo enthusiastically put on her correspondent’s had (and nothing else) and went to work interviewing him and then, took off the newsgirl hat and teased him, as she does.

  1. How do you define “sex addict”?

Without Googling, I define a sex addict as someone who compulsively engages in sexual behaviors, despite any negative effects created by said behaviors.  They’ve shaped/changed their arousal palette, neural pathways, and reward center to release that sweet, sweet dopamine when engaging in their desired sexual behaviors, even if those behaviors result in negative consequences affecting self, family/friends, job, etc.

  1. Do you consider yourself a sex addict?

Yes, and if not a sex addict—then definitely addicted to lusting after HH/Lo’s pictures and words! Some days I’ll wake up with Lo on my mind and even though I could just stroke right there and cum—I’d much rather click through her pictures and read their words, first.

  1. Tell me more. How did you come to the conclusion that you are a sex addict?

Obviously, I was living life under the self-delusion that I just had high sex drive and a wandering eye. But after multiple therapists—which were a waste of time in the beginning since I never was actually honest about the extent of my situation—I had one in particular suggest that maybe I have a sex addiction. She also stated that it wasn’t her expertise, so she couldn’t help me in the way I needed. After some reading and podcasts, I reached out to a CSAT (Certified Sex Addiction Therapist) and decided to “come clean,” which coincided with my “rock bottom.” It was through her that I was diagnosed as having a sex addiction.

  1. Tell me what “rock bottom” meant for you since we all have different bottoms (no pun intended).

What I mean by rock bottom…long story, short: I racked up multiple thousands of dollars on credit cards in my name (via webcam girls, buying girls things, etc.); I was constantly checking sites like PornHub, Xvideos, eFukt, mysexlifewithlola.com; stopping by strip clubs for lap dances; even seeking out guys with whom to share naked photos/videos of my wife; seeking escorts for random encounters; cheating on my (then) fiancée with girls that she hated.

  1. You’re married to a beautiful, sexy woman. How’s that relationship?

Yes, she is very beautiful and sexy. We’ve been married five years, and together for over ten. We’ve definitely experienced our share of ups and downs. It’s the downs that seem to linger, but that is part of the work. She picked up on some red flags but continued on (as did I). Historically, she hasn’t had a ‘high’ (or medium for that matter) sex drive, and mistakenly, I used to ascribe a lot of the blame on her for my acting out. That was wrong of me. Part of the process involved a ‘disclosure’ of all events/actions that I had hidden away—that was difficult, borderline catastrophic. I ended up making it worse by not being completely honest during my first disclosure, meaning I didn’t come clean to all the details until a second disclosure months later.

Ironically, we’re closer and more strategic (in a non-sexual way) with our relationship now that I’m in recovery. She also sees a therapist who is familiar with partner betrayal (which is very important, or else sometimes the partner receives an unfair share of shame and blame). She doesn’t fully understand (can anyone, really?) but she’s working hard, as am I (sometimes). We do not have sex often, as I’m sure one might wonder…in fact, I’m lucky if it’s once a week and not a quickie. I can see that a day doesn’t go by where it doesn’t hurt her, but life is complicated, and the goal is to be in a better spot than we were.

[Trigger Warning – non-consent]

  1. Did you have any formative sexual experiences in early life?

Yes. At age 3 or 4, my next-door neighbor—who was around 5- or 6-year-old—introduced me to kissing and touching. She would take me in to the closet and show me first-hand what she must have been introduced to by whomever was (sadly) showing her. Additionally, when I was six, I had a handful of experiences involving my cousin (same age) and her friend, “trying to be like adults.”

I would also add that access to pornography at a young age was formative in itself. The internet really changed things, as well. I grew up in an unstable household; I sought pleasure and seclusion. Given those needs and that environment, it’s no wonder to me that I latched on to the pleasures of ‘sex’ to escape.

  1. Best sexual experience?

This is a tricky one…my best sexual experience would most likely be with one of my exes— she was amazing in bed…always wanted to fuck, loved to swallow, and LOVED doing it in public places. I think we were at some random party and their bathroom suited us just fine!

  1. Worst sexual experience?

Is that possible? JK. One of the worst experiences would be one of my first escort experiences. The situation was shady AF, which only prevented me from getting (and remaining) hard. I hadn’t experienced that before, and it was awkward. I remember desperately trying to squeeze my flaccid condom-covered cock inside of her. She understood, but I ended up having to settle for a hand job.

  1. Who knows of your addiction, if anyone?

As it stands right now, five people are aware of my addiction: my counselor, my wife, my wife’s best friend, one of my closest friends from high school, and oddly enough, one of my professors from my first year back at school. I’ve debated sharing with my brother (I think he has some similar issues) and my 14-year-old son.

  1. How long have you been in treatment for sex addiction? And do you feel it has worked?

I’ve been in treatment for 3+ years now with a CSAT. It definitely helped me become more aware. I’m sure there are workbooks, strict plans, etc. Before disclosure, we simply identified the really ‘bad’ behaviors (escorts, strip clubs, webcam girls) and put in mitigation efforts (GPS tracking on phone, website filters on phone and laptop). That’s actually the easy part. The hard part is the act of disclosure (if you’re honest enough), and all of the ‘work’ when no one is looking—that’s where the real gains can be made (or lost).

  1. What would you say to people reading this who are asking themselves: Am I a sex addict or do I just have a healthy sexual appetite?

I would say: enjoy sex. I personally see it as a life enhancer (similar to good food or music); however, if things start getting bad and you’re hiding a lot from people, that can spiral and add so much (unnecessary) stress. Long story short, if there are bad things happening because of one’s sexual appetite, then one should at least look at their impact and see if any adjustments should be made. Life is much more fun being authentic!

  1. Have you ever met a female sex addict? If so, describe what that interaction was like?

I’ve only read about and been told about them, never meeting one in person. I know they’re out there, but the stereotypical addict seems to fall on males and the partner role is assumed to be female.

  1. Why do you think sex addiction has become such a popular topic lately?

I think it’s because sex sells and some people look at it as a crutch or excuse to do what they do. (Which is fine, unless you’re causing unnecessary damage as a result of it.)

  1. Have you read any literature out there about sex addicts or sex addiction? If so, what do you recommend?

Facing the Shadow, Patrick Carnes

“Sex Help with Carol the Coach” (podcast)

“Behind Closed Doors” with Dr. Kate Balestrieri (podcast)

  1. Would you prefer if you were not a sex addict? Why or why not?

I like being who I am, and I like what I’m into. What I’d prefer is being upfront with significant others, and saying: “Hey, this is me…like it or leave it.” I think I grew up in shitty situations, so I’d use sex, love, flirting, etc. as my drug. Throw in the internet, and being someone who is good at lying, and that’s a potent combination.

  1. Biggest trouble that sex addiction got you into?

This list is ongoing, but you’re only in trouble if you get caught! (JK) Gigantic credit card bills…I’m a sucker for spoiling a slut or camgirl, lol. Racking those up was the primary driver in hitting my bottom.

  1. You seem to be successful at your job and still married and a parent. Is there such a thing as a “high functioning” sex addict like there is for a “high functioning alcoholic”? Describe.

Actually, I do think there is such a thing. I was so intrigued by this question, that I even asked it of my counselor—she agreed. Part of being a high functioning sex addict would require being able to compartmentalize almost anything and any time. In doing so, you’re able to build a rationale on the matter. I also know the things I cannot do—although I want to: the strip clubs, seeing escorts, flirting with a slut. And so I am able to navigate the decisions I make, and the steps I take to cover up those decisions if they are of the variety that would ‘give me away.’

  1. Pros and cons of being a sex addict?

Pros: Good ol’ fashioned dopamine at a relatively inexpensive cost (not including the externalities); typically, a more open, and inclusive mind… Cons: Can be relationship killer, money-drainer, and/or source of depression if not approached correctly (is there a correct way? Asking for a friend, lol).

  1. Top five fantasy fucks?

#1 – You!

#2 – An all-night bang session with my wife and her best friend.

#3 – Be part of a gangbang…with some amateur local wife.

#4 – DVP (Double Vaginal Penetration, or two penises in the vagina) with my wife.

#5 – You!

  1. Sexual experience you haven’t had yet but would like to try?

I’ve always wanted to try a threesome, both MMF and MFF. Also, I’ve ALWAYS wanted to share my wife…I can think of multiple scenarios involving her…me watching, not watching, listening, being shown, etc.

  1. Bonus question: From what you know of me, do you think I’m a sex addict?

From what I’ve gathered, and if analyzed with the actual truths, I do. But do I think there are huge negative consequences affecting you? Probably not, given our society.

After our interview was over, Lo was naughty and engaged in the following interaction:

Lola: I wonder how your jacking off to me plays into your current recovery and relationship with your wife.  For instance, what happens when I send you a photo like this?

Lola Teasing

AL: Besides the mini dopamine rush and flinch of my cock?  Or, are you looking for how many times I’ve already clicked on the picture, to enlarge and admire it?

Lola: I like to know that you think about me when you stroke that lovely cock of yours to my photos. Now write about that experience. Include where your wife is. How you keep this solo session from her?  How it makes you feel?  How I make you feel?

AL: Right now, my wife’s sleeping next to me naked.  I’m in the bed, hard as a rock, looking at your photos.  To tell the truth, I forgot how hard I get reading about you; way harder than looking at porn, that’s for sure.

All solo getting off has to be done on the sly for me. My wife and I have a soft agreement that I’m supposed to inform her when I ‘take care of myself.’. . . I often seek out your photos to simply admire and your stories to see what you’re up to, but. . . one thing leads to another.  I don’t always tell my wife when I got off alone and I certainly don’t disclose what I looked at/thought about, especially when it was you.  But these behaviors do cause me to develop a guilt factor when I’m wanting to take care of myself—which I don’t necessarily like.

I am fully aware that you don’t help my addiction.  However, I am also aware that I have needs too, and my mind is fully capable of rationalizing the fact that getting off to your pictures is a lot safer than the ‘acting out’ behaviors I used to engage in.

Keeping you – your pictures and your stories – hidden away from my therapist and my wife certainly doesn’t help my situation, but, as long as I am careful and respectful, it doesn’t necessarily hurt. I like to think it keeps me in somewhat of a steady-state (which I think is only possible because of the fact that I am ‘high-functioning’ sex addict, as you called it). Deep down, I know that these are behaviors that need to change in order to fully ‘recover.’ But I have to ask myself two things: “Is recovery what I really want?” and “Where’s the fun in that?”

Lola: So you’re saying that getting off to me is what we might call ‘harms reduction’?

AL: That’s an interesting take, but yes, sort of a lesser of two evils (although you’re not evil; naughty, yes, but not evil as far as I know, haha). It’s kind of like, I know it is still reinforcing neural pathways that I’m trying to change, but still I pursue that behavior because of my brain’s ability to rationalize and compartmentalize.

Lola: Thought experiment – what would happen if you were married to me and I constantly had guys (and gals) coming over in order to cum over, in, on, to, with, and for me and you were there to watch?  Would that be a cure?

AL: Now that just sounds hot!  If that scenario were real, and guys and girls were coming over to cum with, in, and on you, then I think I’d be in my happy place, as long as you (as my wife) wanted it, and so did I.  (I do, btw, I very much do!)