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Keeping it Hot and Wet
1
Couples Reading Together Have More Fun
We are delighted to share with you the words and photos of a feisty married couple who have been enjoying Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume V: Shorter Shorts.
Actually, they go by the screen name of “Feisty Marriedcouple” and that is not false advertising!!!
They first got into the blog and sent us some photos of them getting off to pics on the internet. But then they got the book and sent us some new photos. Not only are they incredibly sexy (individually and together), but they manage to take great shots of themselves while in the act! Such talent!!!
Their first cumtribution
I hope you enjoy what they have shared.
Sometimes, when he’s away, she enjoys the blog alone.
“Hey Lola, we did get a chance to read a couple of stories this afternoon! We enjoyed them very much! We also took some pics while reading. Well, to be honest, we took a lot of pics before reading, then ended up fucking because we were so turned on. THEN we read some stories while she used her wand.”
Sometimes when she’s away he enjoys the blog alone.
“It was actually a lot of fun! And the stories are great! Great stories, beautifully written, and not dragged out for 200 pages. It’s like having Literotica distilled down to the good stuff and having it injected straight into your veins!”
But they enjoy the blog most together!
That’s it, jack off and cum!
What a nice cock. Will she be jealous?
Good boy!
I guess he really likes Lo
Recommended way for a man to read erotica.
Recommended way for a woman to read erotica (unless she’s being eaten out by another woman)
To be clear, orgasms can be had from the book alone, but why not add other forms of stimulation?
Do you want to read with me?
Is the book making you hard or my ass and cunt?
Reading between the lines
This should be required reading in college!
Bedtime reading
Art imitates life and then life imitates art.
Don’t forget to clean up.
A few more from our good friends:
Lola Loves Dick
Lola’s version
Lo’s version of the shower pic
Ready for Reentry Daddy
Lola’s Gifts
Protected: Lola Springs Eternal
The Master
[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.
Brass in Pocket
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
Protected: Res Ipsa Loquitur, or The Pencil Test
I Need a Dirty Woman, I Need a Dirty Girl
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.
Protected: Lola Does NOLA
Problem Solving
Lola on the phone, tits out
“Lola, it’s worse than it was before,” said MILF Meri.
“What do you mean, worse?”
“Just that.”
Meri had called late at night. Lo was in bed next to me. I could hear everything Meri said since it was so quiet at home and she was so demonstrably loud.
“Worse in what way?”
“Well, it used to be just a hand-job before bed. A soothing caress to help him fall asleep.”
“Yeah.”
“And now, it’s like every night, he’s sneaking around, waiting for Scott to fall asleep and begging me to go into the first-floor bedroom and let him fuck me.” That bedroom is Meri’s ‘masturbation room’ where Lo fucked Meri’s husband and three sons the week prior.
“Do you?”
“He’s very persuasive, very persistent. And, well, you know, he only lasts five minutes at the most. So, it’s just faster and easier to give in than to resist.”
“Meri, there’s your husband and your other two sons to think about. None of them know, do they?”
“No. Not at all. It’s the first time I’ve ever had to keep something about sex a secret.”
“What about your solo sessions in that room?”
“I usually would shut the door, but it was no secret what I was up to.”
“Usually?”
“I mean, I’d shut the door, but you know what it’s like in my house. One of the kids always needs something and they would open it without knocking or whatever.”
She was more upset about being interrupted than the invasion of privacy.
“But this is different,” she continued. “And he wants to do it in there because that’s where he had you. He opens up your books and looks at your photos while fucking me.”
“I have to go,” said Lo abruptly. She hung up.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I don’t want to be any part of that,” she said.
“Why do you think she called you?”
“It certainly wasn’t to figure out a solution to her problem. And even if it was, that’s her problem, not mine. Let her figure out how to solve it.”
She shut off the lights and silenced her phone.
“Night,” I said.
“Night,” she replied in the dark.
I didn’t fall asleep. I could tell she wasn’t falling asleep either. I looked at the clock. It was ten past ten.
I looked again. It was ten thirty.
I wasn’t sleeping. I could tell she wasn’t either. I didn’t move. I hardly breathed. I waited.
Fifteen more minutes passed.
I felt her move. She spread her legs. She reached under the blankets. Rhythmic motions. Sloshing sounds. Muted moan. Faster strokes. Sudden stop. “Fuck,” whispered in the dark. Convulsion. Release.
She reached for her breasts and caressed and squeezed them.
I was hard under the sheets.
“Jack me off,” I whispered.
She was startled. She thought I was asleep.
“What?”
“Jack me off.”
“It’s time to sleep,” she said, playing coy.
“Grab my cock and stroke it. Make me cum. Just like Meri and her son.”
She obeyed.
“Like this?” she asked as she held me firmly.
“Use some lube,” I instructed.
She reached into her nightstand drawer and pulled out the tube. She keeps it there, reserved only for me since she has her own, natural lubricant.
She squeezed a dollop into her palm and reached under the blankets again, sliding her hand around my cock. That first, cold, wet, firm squeeze is the best part of her handjobs.
“You can’t get them out of your head, can you?” I asked.
“No, Daddy.”
“You’re a bad, dirty, depraved, morally degenerate girl.”
“Yes, Daddy. Can I suck your cock?”
“No.”
“Please, Daddy.”
“No.”
“Do you want to fuck me?”
“No.”
“Do you want to use me?”
“Only your hand.”
“Why?”
“Because, that’s what I want right now.”
“Do you want to fuck Stoya?”
“Yes.”
“OK.”
Stoya and her anal Fleshlight
She got up and pulled out the Fleshlight. She lubricated it and my cock properly. I was in a mood to deny her. I don’t know why. She slid the pornstar’s pussy on my rod. She lifted it and lowered it like a single-cylinder engine.
Stoya and her pussies
She could tell by my breathing I was getting close. She took Stoya off of me and replaced her with her mouth in order to coax all my cum out of me and swallow it. I can only imagine that the initial taste was unpleasant due to the lube. Didn’t matter to her. She wanted my ejaculate. She wanted to bring me to a climax with her mouth, not Stoya’s pussy. I gave her what she wanted and she swallowed every warm drop.
“Better Daddy?” she asked.
“Yes. You’re a good girl. Now it’s time for sleep.”
Stoya and Lola side-by-side
Tits Out
“Lo, are you watching porn again?” I asked as I noticed her lying on the couch, legs spread, hand cupped in her thigh-gap, her mind keenly absorbed in the screen of her phone.
“No,” she said defiantly.
“Then what are you doing in that provocative position?”
“I happen to be reading an article.”
“Oh yeah? What article?”
“It’s about the pandemic and relationships.”
“I’m curious. Tell me more.”
“Oh, it’s just about how some couples realized that their relationship was in shambles once they were deprived of all the other distractions in life.”
“Hmmm, sounds interesting. What’s it called?”
“I forget the title.”
“But you’re reading it right now. I’d like to read it too. What’s it called?”
“Fine,” she said, as if caught fibbing. “It’s called, ‘First Comes the Pandemic Divorce, Then the Tits Out Summer.’”
“Tits Out Summer, eh?”
Lola’s Tits Out
“It’s educational.”
“I bet it is.”
“Do you plan on having a ‘Tits Out Summer’ this year?”
“This year, every year: summer, winter, spring, fall – never a bad time for tits out.”
“Take ʼem out now.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
She reached into her shirt and pulled her breasts out over the top.
“You’ll stretch it out that way,” I said.
“Stretch what?”
“Your shirt.”
“Oh, I thought you were talking about something else,” she said as she pulled at her nipples, elongating them.
“Mind if I snap a photo or two? You look divine.”
I pulled out my camera.
“You know,” she said as she posed, “I’ve been called an attention whore for just this sort of exhibitionism.”
“You don’t say. Preposterous.”
“The way I see it, nudes have always been considered fine art. That’s just how I consider myself – a priceless museum quality piece that should be on display in a venue open to the public.”
“You’re a piece alright! Very open to the public.”
“What are you implying?”
“I mean, in our day and age, the internet is the democratization of culture, the dissemination of information, the museum for the masses.”
“Quite,” she said as she pressed her tits together. “And the masses have spoken and I am the embodiment of their collective unconscious vision.”
“Humble too.”
She slid out of her panties and spread her legs.
“I know a photographer who takes photos of naked women,” she remarked.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“You should introduce us. We have a lot in common.”
“Not really. That’s just my point.”
“How so?”
“Well, each of her models is ‘perfect’ in a traditional sort of way and therefore eminently forgettable.”
“I see.”
“I, by contrast, am unique in a memorable sort of way.”
“That you are.”
“Do you want to fuck me, Daddy?”
I put down the camera and picked up my notepad and a pen.
“Daddy? What are you writing? I asked, do you want to fuck me?”
“You’ve inspired me,” I said as I scratched away at my note before it vanished from my mind.
“Read it to me,” she said when I put the pad down. She simultaneously picked up her two plungers — pink and blue (“pink for pussy, blue for bum”) and attached them to the bed’s headboard.
Pink Plunger
“Are you going to engage in double penetration?”
“That’s the objective,” she said, sliding back on the ribbed handles.
“Adventurous.”
“I like to think that I’m open to adventure. Will you read to me?”
I read from the notebook: “The most beautiful thing in the world cannot be seen, touched, or apprehended by the senses. It can only be approached by the mind, felt by the soul, and embraced deep within the heart. It nourishes the imagination and quickens thought. It is the noumenal trace behind the phenomenal appearance of the nymphomaniac, the sexually confident woman, the eternal feminine open to receive, willing to give, abundantly generous, her glory simultaneously concealing and revealing, her naked resplendence overwhelming thought through her appearance, yet shrouding her in mystery that tantalizes because always unattainable.”
“How Platonic,” she remarked, “and therefore, disappointingly sterile. Don’t you want to have me? Don’t you want to approach my body, feel my tits, and embrace me deep within my cunt? Though I adore your words and ideas, right now I just want you to fuck me.”
Her withering criticism of my inspired panegyric to her dissuaded me from continuing. If I wanted to praise her, I had to do it apart from words and phrases. I had to express my love, preferably through my second most penetrating and pleasing organ.
She pulled forward from the headboard, surprising both herself and me as the plungers remained in her holes and became dislodged from the surface where they had been affixed with a sudden pop! noise. She looked like an animal that had been shot twice with large darts in the aft. She reached back, pulled the plungers out and lay flat on her back on the bed, playing dead, but for both her hands fidgeting with her pussy as her legs were spread. She resembled human Mercedes sign.
“I think I’m comprehending your needs,” I said as I removed my clothes.
“Sometimes you’re a genius.”
“My dear, I’m always a genius. Sometimes I do stupid things.”
“I think it’s the other way around.”
I got between her legs and berated her as she bore the full brunt of my blunt instrument.
“The two brothers aren’t enough, slut? The three brothers and their father couldn’t satisfy your hunger for humiliation? MILF Meri didn’t cure your craving for cunt?”
She just spread her legs further and took my meat and degradation with stoic equanimity.
For me, at that moment, she was the axis mundi. Not the world navel, but the hole at the center of the world through which all things emerge in their creation and return in their destruction.
Her hole was wide, taking and giving, full of fluid and overflowing. There was a sloshing and splashing as she climaxed, after which she simply said, “And now in my ass, Daddy.”
Ass Please Daddy
I pulled out, flipped her over, and slid into her second axis mundi; antipode to the first, the demonic inversion of the fecund orifice.
In one fell swoop I securely conjoined with her and I felt as she gripped my member with intensity.
She cried out in pain, “Now you’ve gone too far!”
“You can’t know where too far is until you get there.”
“You’re hurting me,” she pleaded.
I pulled back, relenting.
“I didn’t say stop,” she called over her shoulder.
I rammed her repeatedly from the rear until her rhythmic response of “oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” transformed into a repeating release of “ah, ah, ah, ah, ah.”
She could tell I was rapidly approaching the point of no return and so she lunged forward, and with a catlike quickness, pivoted one hundred and eighty degrees, opening her mouth and taking my instrument of impalement deep into the back of her throat.
Instinctively, I pulled back, grabbed my manhood with my right hand, and let spew forth all of my liquid love for Lola.
She looked up at me as I painted her face the color of pearl and she said, “I only feel right on my knees, Daddy.”
I spread my legs wide and she got between them, snuggling into my thighs, and licked from balls to tip. She looked up at me and asked, “Did you like fucking my ass?”
Unable to respond, I put my hands through her thick mane and pressed her face close to my throbbing thermometer.
She opened her mouth and took it in, performing her practice of “cockwarming” as I slowly drifted off to sleep.
Did you like fucking my ass, Daddy?