Swing

[The following story, which took place a few years ago, was published in the March edition of ENM Magazine – Ethical Non-Monogamy.  Unfortunately, despite heroic efforts by its publisher, this month is the last month of its short existence.]

Lo’s Green Dress from ENM spread

Saint Patrick’s Day in Chicago, where the river runs green and the jazz of a bygone era still swings.  Lo and I had gone there for Lily and Jim’s wedding.  It was an extravagant affair.  All the quaint rituals and odd practices of the public betrothal symbolizing holy monotony.  I mean monogamy.  I mean matrimony.  Sorry, I struggle to find the right words sometimes.  All the focus on the bride as an unblemished princess performing for her solid, stoic king.  There’s just something about it that provokes the puckish prankster in me.  Especially when I know that the beautiful bride in her pure white gown has a devilish desire for exceptionally large cock and that her groom comes up short. 

But Jim is a good friend of mine and a sometime paramour of Lo’s, so we took added delight in the carnal knowledge that behind all the nuptial vows, the oaths of fidelity, and the pomp of the ring ceremony, both Lily and Jim hadn’t any plans of restricting their bodies and pleasures only to the one legally bound to them.

So, as all the other guests let out gentle expressions of awe and shed a tear in reflection of this display of love and affection, I grinned a wicked little grin as I sipped my expensive scotch.

Lo saw my mischievous look and rubbed her leg up against mine under the table, indicating that she had some ideas of her own.

We both knew Lily and Jim to be swingers and so, when the formalities were over and the dancefloor opened up for revelry, Lo missed no opportunity to scandalize the evening.

We sat at the table next to the newlywed couple.  Rather than the usual choice of two entrées, there was a choice of four and so people were passing bites from their plates around for each other to taste.

“You are so generous!” said one guest to me after I let her have a bite of my food.

“Whenever I experience something amazing, I just want others to share in it,” I replied, rubbing Lo’s arm.

“I’m the opposite,” said the young woman to me.  “Whenever I find something amazing, I keep it all to myself.”  She also rubbed the arm of her partner.

“You can have him,” I thought.

Meanwhile, Lo was seated next to Lily’s Uncle Collin.  He arrived to this event without his wife Suzanne and no one blinked an eye about it.  The family was used to their “independent” social schedules.  This wedding happened after the shenanigans that had taken place at Collin’s mountain cottage, so Lo was very familiar with ‘Uncle Collin’ and his love of young women and his E.D. issues.  The whole night, any stranger would have thought that Lo was Collin’s date for the evening.  Given the age difference, they might have thought Lo was his hired companion as his FGE – “Full Girlfriend Experience.”

They danced together – marvelously, I might add – and reminisced, quite loudly at the table, about the days at his cottage.  He repeatedly alluded to Lo suntanning nude along side Lily, going to a farm and milking goats, and they laughed about how Lo lost her bikini bottoms while tubing behind his boat on the lake.

As they told these stories, Collin gradually drew the other guests at our table into their intimate stroll down Memory Lane.  He is charismatic and a good storyteller, but the whole time I was silently fuming, ready to burst out with, “Yeah, you could read all about it on our blog!  With photos!!!  I wrote it better than he tells it!!!”  But I remained silent and let the senior statesmen have the spotlight that he so craved.

He subtly hinted at, without giving too much detail, the nudity, sex, and other debauchery that took place at the cottage.  He was in on the secret we shared with Jim and Lily – that they got married prior to this large ceremony to appease their Catholic families and that, though they lived “in sin” prior to the private wedding, Lily was and continues to be an A.O.L. girl (Anal Only Lifestyle).

After Collin regaled them with his tales of titties and sun, one of the young women at our table, noticing Collin’s wedding ring and Lo’s “hotwife” ring, asked, “So you two are. . . married?”  She asked it hesitantly, knowing it was an inappropriate question that was only sparked by the gaping age difference between them.  Yet the curious guest was inebriated enough to broach the subject and display her incredulity.

“Oh no,” said Lo, laughing and delighting in the twist of the knife that was about to take place, “I’m not married!”

“Oh, so you’re. . . ?” the woman’s half-formulated question hung in the air awkwardly.

“We’re just friends,” said Lo.  “This is my partner, HH,” she added, as she put her delicate hand on mine.

The fact that they weren’t married, but had shared so much together, compounded with the fact that Lo was dating another, yet different, older man who was seated right next to her as she laughed about these sexperiences, seemed to blow the mind of our dinner companion.

“Oh,” she said, feigning comprehension, but displaying complete befuddlement.

The band began to play again and Lo begged me to dance with her.

I demurred, saying, “Dancing is emblematic of our relationship.  When we dance, you do whatever you want.  For me, though, the goal is to have fun.  But all you do is criticize and then, when I stop, you criticize because you always have to have an object of your derision.  Without it, you feel a tremendous void.  And whatever I do – driving, cooking, dancing, cleaning – I’m your eternal object of derision.”

Lo replied, “Well, when dancing, it’s more fun for both partners if one is not stepping on the other’s toes.”

“That’s only possible if you’re dancing solo.”

“You’re right, dancing is emblematic of our whole relationship.”

As harsh as this banter sounds, it was all said lovingly, tongue-in-cheek.

One of our friends at the table overhead us and said, “You two should write a book chronicling your lovers’ quarrels.”

“That’s a great idea!” I replied “That way I could document my long suffering.  I could call it, ‘The History of my Calamities,’ after Abelard.”

“Your calamities,” chided Lo, “you should be so lucky to have an Eloise like me!”

Having fully lost our audience with our theological allusions, Collin remarked, “You two have great erotic tension.”

“Yeah,” I said, “but no erotic release.”

“There’s a difference,” said Lo, “between erotic tension and sexual tension.”

“And what is that?” I asked.

“Erotic tension is in your head.  And you have a great release for that – the blog.  Sexual tension is between your legs and you have a great release for that.”

“What might that be?”

“My puss.”

“How’s your sexual tension?”

“I never have sexual tension,” said Lo casually, “I only have sexual release.”

“I suppose that’s what it means to be ‘a liberated woman.’”

She got up to dance with Collin some more.

Louis Armstrong’s “Just a Gigolo” was being sung by the crooner and Lo, wearing her green velvet dress in honor of the Irish holiday, looked stunning as she twirled and dipped with Collin.

As they kicked up a storm on the dancefloor, one of the women at our table sat next to me.  “Aren’t you jealous,” she whispered in my ear.  I couldn’t help but think of her as Iago.  Though green was the color of the day, it was not the color I was seeing as I watched my Desdemona dance with her Cassio.

“No,” I replied with a smile.

“Not at all?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Want to get some air?” she asked.

“Sure.”

I followed my femme Iago out onto the balcony of the hotel and, though it was freezing in the windy city, she offered me a few puffs from her vape pen.  Not wishing to be rude, I accepted.

Suddenly my Shakespearean companion transformed into a jovial leprechaun and the next thing I knew was Lo, Collin, the sexy pixie elf and I were at The Green Mill, a dancehall throwback to the age of Swing.  A big band was playing with a tall, lean black trumpeter in the lead.  They were pounding out “Tain’t What You Do” as Lo was passed from partner to partner in the crowd that was jumpin’ and jivin’ to the beat.

In my mind, the spotlight was on Lo and her eyes were on the prize – the trumpeter who seemed to be singing the words especially for her, with a peculiar emphasis on them, changing the meaning from, “Tain’t what you do, it’s how you do it” to “Taint, what you do.  It’s how you do it.”

“How you feeling now?” asked the leprechaun.

I felt as if a green wave was carrying my Lo further and further out to sea as I was stranded on the shore watching her recede into the distance.

There, far on the horizon, I saw her up by the stage, talking with the trumpeter who was standing, his crotch eye level with Lo’s face.  She was looking up at him, saying something.

The band took a break and Lo disappeared, as did the band leader.

Collin returned to the table and I inquired about her whereabouts.

“It’s Saint Patty’s Day!” he said, “The luck of the Irish.  I believe that Lo is getting lucky!”  He slapped me on the back and bought me another drink that I didn’t need.  “When in the Emerald City, anything can happen with a little magic from the Wizard,” he said, removing a teal handkerchief from his jacket pocket that suddenly turned into Lo’s satin panties.  He handed them to me and said, “Improbable, yes.  Possible, perhaps.  With Lo, all is green go-go and Eternal Return of the Dame.”

When I heard these words, I knew that I was slowly losing my grasp on reality.

The last thing I recall from the evening was a Julie London song, “Hey Daddy,” being played by the band as an instrumental number.

When I woke up, I was in my hotel room in the bed and Lo was rising and descending on a large bottle of champagne.

Celebration Time

Groggily I rubbed my eyes and looked at her to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.  I then said, “Be careful darling, I wouldn’t want that bottle to break.”

“Not to worry.  I’m wide, wet, and willing.”

As she proceeded to hump to her heart’s content, she said, “Will you order some breakfast from room service?”

Always the dutiful daddy, I said, “Sure, what do you want.”

“A bowl of Lucky Charms.”

Lo’s Taint

99 Problems: A Valentine’s Day Tale

[Dear Lovlies, this story was published in the February 2021 issue of Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine. If you would like to get your free Match, Cinder & Spark book, send us an email at: downloladown@gmail.com]

“Well, Darling, I guess it’s just you and me: Santa and his little sexy elf,” I said to her as she snuggled up to me under my arm on the couch.  She was still wearing her sleek red dress and nothing else.  We had the fire going (on the T.V. thanks to Netflix).

Lola’s Good Cheer

“It was a nice day,” she said, a touch of melancholy in her voice.

We both knew it wasn’t like Christmases past.  It was COVID Christmas.  No kissing friends and strangers under the mistletoe or unwrapping presents with a large crowd looking on to see your reaction to their gift.

We had spent the day delivering goodies to friends and family, driving all around town, making stops from noon until nine at night.  Each stop was accompanied by a little chat outside in the brisk air with a shot or two to warm us up.  It was good to see familiar faces and bring them gifts, even if we couldn’t hug, kiss, dance, or sit in their comfortable living rooms for some schnapps and grog.

We were determined to make the day as special as we could.  Now that we were home (and a little tipsy) I told her she could look under the tree to see what Santa had brought for her.

“Have you been naughty or nice?” I asked.

“Which gets me more gifts?” she asked as she rummaged under the tree and found the little box I had carefully hidden.

She immediately knew what it was.  She opened it extremely carefully.  The diamond ring was illuminated by a tiny light that automatically turned on when the ring box was opened.  It looked magical in the dimly lit room.  The cute case glowed with an aura of heavenly mystique.

“Oh Daddy!” she said, giving me a big kiss.  “How did you know?”

She was being very facetious since she had designed the piece of jewelry, ordered it, and tracked its delivery.  All I did was pass her my credit card and then wrap it when it arrived.

“Is there anything there for me?” I asked.

“Yes, there is.  Wait here and come into the bedroom when I call you.”

A few moments went by before her sing-song voice invited me in.

She was wearing a new red satin negligée.  “My Santa suit.  Second only to my birthday suit.”  She spread her legs to reveal that she also had shaved.

Lola’s present for Daddy

“No more Hannukah bush?” I asked.

“You know what they say.”

“What’s that?”

“Hair today, gone tomorrow.”

“You’ve been hanging around me too long.  Leave the puns to dads who like dad jokes.”

“Do you like, Daddy?” she asked as she gently tugged at her pussy lips.

“Very much.”

“You’re not hard to please.  You know that?”

“Yes, but when you please me, I am hard.”

“Show me!  Let me drink your eggnog.”

“Your ring looks good on your finger,” I remarked as she stroked herself.

“Yes, now maybe you’ll make me a proper hotwife!”

“Oh no, Lo.  I can’t make a descent woman out of you.  You’ve spent a lifetime cultivating being an indecent woman.”

“True.  But you know, either way, I’m happy.  Deep, deep inside, I’m happy.  And you can be too.”

“Be happy?”

“No, deep, deep inside me.”

She stood up from the bed, bent over, and looked at her exposed rear in the full-length mirror behind her.  “It’s weird,” she said, “how horny I get looking at myself naked.”

I have to admit, she had me excited just looking at her like that.

I fumbled to remove my pants as she pouted, “Daddy, I just can’t wait.”

As swiftly as I could, I slid into her impatient peonies petals, already wet with dew.

Within moments she sensed the inevitable and spun around in order to receive her reward.

Though that may have been my climax, it is not the climax of our story.

Drunk on my cum, she looked up at me and asked, “Which part did you like the most: the first ten seconds or the last ten seconds?”

“Hey, I might have been fast, but what or who can give that much pleasure in so short a time?”

“Are you talking about my ability to give pleasure or yours?  Never mind.  I’ll show you what can give even more pleasure,” she said as she reached under the bed to take out her Hitachi.

Lo gushes for her mechanical lover

As she was on her solo journey to Pleasure Town, I pulled out my laptop and read a few emails written to our shared downloladown account.  There were a number of thank you notes from the men, women, and couples who had received our “XXX-mas” gifts – a free Match, Cinder & Spark book or audiobook.

It was nice to hear from our fans that we helped cheer them up in this otherwise dismal time.

After Lo had ‘spouted off’ in the best possible way, she sat up to look over my shoulder.  Glancing at the screen, I sensed she was a bit disappointed.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“No, it’s something Lo.  What is it?”

“Just the thought that put me over the edge was that you were looking at photos of me, not reading emails.”

“Well, it’s the next-best-thing.  They’re emails about you.  Besides, why would I look at photos of you on my computer when you’re lying next to me vibrating your va-jay-jay till the levee breaks?”

“Exactly!  And why would you be reading emails when you have this at your disposal?!” she said, slapping her sloppy puss for emphasis.

Changing the subject slightly, I asked, “Do you think it was egomaniacal of me to give my own books as a Christmas gift?”

“I think it’s egomaniacal of you to write those books.”

“That wasn’t egomaniacal.  That was a gift to humanity.”

“Never have I seen such a self-satisfied narcissist!”

“Didn’t you just look in the mirror?”

“Shut up and pass me Glindo,” she said, referring to her glass dildo that was next to me on the nightstand.

Lo and ‘Glindo’

“Why?  What are you up to now?” I asked, seeing her with her legs spread wide on the bed, dildo in hand.

“Nothing, but I’m open to doing something.”

“What are you open to doing?”

“You.”

“Now?”

“Well, after I do myself.”

“Again?”

Never one for false modesty, she implored, “Read to me some of the things people are saying about the book.”

“While you jill it?”

“Yeah, it’s a turn-on to know that I get guys hard and women wet.”

“Well, one person called you a slut and said that you do all this just for attention.”

“That is not true,” she said emphatically, “being a slut is its own reward.”

“You could call the attention a fringe benefit.”

She was too busy now to laugh at my pun.

Overcome by her perspicuous paramour, Lo lunged forward with a long, lusty moan.

As she recovered from her self-inflicted squirt, I asked her, “Do you think we should do it again for Valentine’s Day?”

“I’m hoping we’ll do it long before then!”

“I mean a free book for fans.”

“Oh,” she said, realizing her mistake.  “Sure.  Maybe we could ask our readers to send in their Valentine’s Day stories and send a free book to the top ten that we publish.”

“That’s a great idea!”

“Photos are also welcome,” she added.  “Now do me, Daddy.  I’ve only had two orgasms tonight and you know I need at least three.”

“Lo, you really are a slut for attention!”

“I got 99 problems, but being a slut ain’t one.”

Be My Valentine

Sound

[This story, in case you don’t pick up on it, is dedicated to the incomparable, Jupiter Grant. You can find her work here, here, here, here, and here.]

“In physics, sound is a vibration that propagates as an acoustic wave, through a transmission medium such as a gas, liquid or solid. In human physiology and psychology, sound is the reception of such waves and their perception by the brain.”

Lola’s Tum

 

It had been a wet month.  The typical English spring attempted to outdo itself with unrelenting grey skies, showers, and sopping English gardens.  Jupiter Grant, or Jupi, as she likes to be called by her friends, had not gone out for weeks.  Her groceries had been delivered and her supply of wine was dwindling.  It had been months since she had seen her ersatz lover, H.  She referred to him only as H and thought of him as “ersatz” because he was a Husband to another woman and had a family in London.  Jupi was the proverbial “other woman,” the “mistress,” the “seductress.”  At least that’s the way the judging world would see her.  The judging world being the monogamous, heteronormative world.  Between Jupi, H, and H’s wife, there was an open understanding.  Still, that cozy relationship was of no use during the long COVID lockdown.

From Jupi’s point of view, she was the guest always late to the party.  She and H had chemistry that they both acknowledged.  Not just sexual, but spiritual.  They knew they were meant to be together, but their paths had crossed many years too late in life.  As a compromise to life’s cruel humor, they connected when and how they could; neither one demanding more of the other or disappointed by the other since they both knew that this was the best arrangement for all parties involved.  Yet Jupi was not late to the poly-party.  Thank goodness, she thought, that she lived in and was a part of the polyamory zeitgeist.

A Happy Fan

Yet the knowledge that they were two lost souls doing what they could to find joy in a largely painful and sad world provided little relief for Jupi when her deepest needs swelled up to fill her entire being with desire – desire to be held, touched, caressed, kissed, fondled, spanked, sucked, filled, and fucked.  At those moments, a quick fap merely whet her ferocious appetite.  She needed more.  She craved the comfort of H’s strong, firm flesh pressing down on her own soft, welcoming, warm body.

Unrelieved in her needs, she turned to compensatory pleasures and perversions.  Much of her sexual energy, she found over the years, could be diverted into creative power.  Writing erotica was her main outlet.  But lately she discovered a new medium into which she channeled her plentiful reserves of poetic and prurient lust and her craving to perform: her voice.  Through a series of happy coincidences, she discovered that not only could she narrate literotica, she could nail it with every ounce of sexy she felt swirling through her sensual spirit and her beautiful body.

Volume I

A manuscript had arrived: Match, Cinder & Spark: Nymphomania and the Single Girl.  “Hmmmm,” she thought, “this could be interesting.  Or, it could be a colossal waste of time.  Thousands of words, hundreds of pages of driveling, second-rate, even third-rate pablum ‘poetry’ for pubescent boys.”  She poured a glass of red wine and opened up the document on her computer.  She began reading:

 

“Tell me,” she said, “tell me what I am.”

“You’re a slut.”

“Yes,” she said, encouragingly.

“A whore.  A fucking sexmaniac.”

“Go on,” she moaned, biting her lower lip.  But I was too occupied with banging her from behind.  I needed to catch my breath.

“Tell me,” she demanded, “tell me what I am.”

“A cum-bucket.  A little cum-hungry tramp.”

“Yes,” she screamed.

“A sex addict.  A nymphomaniac!”

I slapped her ass hard as she screamed with delight.  Her wet little snatch secreted her luscious, warm juices all over my hard cock.

After she collapsed into the bed of blankets, I reached around her from behind and whispered in her ear, “Good girl.  That’s my good girl.”  She purred like a little kitten.

 

Artistic Tribute Photo

She felt a tingling between her legs.  She kept reading, taking small sips of wine as she felt her mouth watering.  As she continued, she felt something else getting wet.  She tried reading the words aloud, just to hear how they would sound in her voice.  Could she do the male lines?  It was narrated by Lola Down’s lover, H.H.  Was she the right voice for that?  Wouldn’t a man’s voice be more appropriate?  She tried it out, experimenting with various octaves and tones.  Clearly these two characters were American.  Should I pronounce “ass” the American way, or as I would pronounce it – “arse”?  Technical questions like these kept appearing, but she liked what she read.  She liked it a lot.  To her surprise, she especially enjoyed embodying the male narrator’s role.  Yes, she thought, yes, I’ll take this on.

A week later she was in her tiny makeshift “recording studio” – actually a closet with a light, a microphone, and her computer.  It was the most soundproof room of her flat.  She was in the middle of recording a story, “NYC,” about Lo and her raconteur’s trip to a strip club in Manhattan:

 

She slowly eased her way down Lo’s body, pressing her perky breasts and nipples directly in Lo’s face.  She took Lo’s hands and encouraged Lo to apply them to her body, caressing the dancer’s ass and legs.  As she slithered over Lo, she inconspicuously pulled Lo’s strapless dress down over Lo’s breasts, exposing them so that they could rub up against her own.  She then got down between Lo’s legs and gracefully pulled the hem of Lo’s dress up and up, rubbing her soft hands over Lo’s thighs and then sitting on Lo’s lap and rubbing her ass deep into Lo’s crotch.  All the while, Lo licked her lips and ran her tongue over her teeth in that sumptuous way that indicates that Lo is hungry.

 

 

Jupi found herself breathless.  She couldn’t continue with the narration.  There in the narrow confines of the darkened closet, she reached down under her skirt and panties and her fingers fondled the fount of her effulgent creativity.  She read the lines again and again in her mind and switched roles in her mind from being Lo to being the stripper to being H.H. observing it all.  The dance of subjectivity stimulated her mind as much as her digits released her pent-up puissance by penetrating her pulsating pink pussy.

Browsing the Literotica section

Wave after wave of relief and gratitude poured over her as her legs gave out and she slowly crumpled onto the now wet wooden floor of the closet, panting and heaving.  She opened the door to let in more air.  She desperately needed more air.

Eventually, she was able to finish recording the story.  She liked it so much that she wanted to share it, prematurely, with someone.  No, not with someone.  Not with anyone.  With H.  She needed to know his opinion of it.  Was it any good?  Was she any good as a narrator?  But there were so many doubts that accompanied her wish.  What if he didn’t like it?  What if he thought she was weird for even producing it?  What if he was turned on by Lola?

Ultimately her desire for validation and attention outweighed her insecurities and she hit “SEND” and immediately wished she could unsend it.

An excruciating day, then two days, then three days went by without a word from H.  She couldn’t record another page before hearing back from him.  She was in a frenzied state.  Why hadn’t he called, texted, emailed, something???

But, just when she thought she couldn’t take it any longer, there was an unexpected knock at her door.

A visitor?  No.  Couldn’t be.  Probably just a grocery delivery.  She hastily put on her robe and furtively opened the door.  There he was.  H.  Unannounced.  Unexpected.  Un-fuckig-believable!  She was ecstatic.  Jupi threw the door open wide and let him in.  But then she remembered the recording.  Was he here to break things off?

“Hi,” she said shyly, her nerves shot.

“Hi.”

“I wish I knew you were coming.  I would have. . .”

“I didn’t even know I was coming.  But I’ve been. . . I’ve wanted to. . . I just started driving and I found myself here.  I’ve been listening to your recording on repeat.”

“And?”

“Your voice is so fucking sexy.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.  I’ve been hard-up for days.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to.  But I wanted to see you and tell you.”

“Way to drive a woman crazy!”

“Who wrote this?  Who is this Lola?”

Suddenly Jupi felt nervous again.  She felt butterflies in her stomach.  “What if?” questions started forming in her mind like they did before.  Incessant, annoying, pervasive questions filled with self-doubt and fear.  Her anxiety ramping up again.  She needed to get grounded.

“Come on in,” she said, taking his coat.  “Want a drink?”

She took out the wine and two glasses.  She let her robe drop, revealing her bare body just beneath the sheer negligée she was wearing under the robe.  It was sexy, but it was also comfy.  He looked at her, soaking in her visage.  She was a shy hermit full of inner life – sensual, spontaneous, artistic, creative, smart, witty, emotional, and most of all, madly in love with him.  Seeing her filled him with passion, just as the sound of her voice speaking those salacious sentences had made him crazed for three days.  Her flesh.  He wanted it.

She sat down next to him at the small kitchen table and opened her laptop.  She clicked on mysexlifewithlola.com and scrolled through the plethora of Lola’s porno pictures.

“Oh. . . oh. . . my,” he said slowly with long pauses in between exclamations.  “Um, wow!”  Images of Lola naked were replete on the screen.  But not just naked – naked with her 12 inch dildo, with her princess plug, with pearls on a string streaming from her ass, with her man, H.H., sucking his cock, filled with his cum, overflowing with the cum of other men, and stretching herself wide with one of the largest replicas of a horse cock H had ever seen!

“Yeah, she’s a handful,” said Jupi, resigned to sharing H’s attention with Lola.

“She reminds me of you,” he said, looking up at her downcast eyes.

“What?  Really?”

“Yes, if I had met you ten years ago.  I think she’s the spitting image of you.”

“Ten years ago?” Jupi echoed.

“Oh, no.  Come on.  I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You sure you don’t want some young sexy thing like Lo?”

“No, Jupi, I want you.”  He leaned in to kiss her.  Her stomach’s butterflies flew in a flutter, suddenly startled by the unexpected availability of his lips and everything else he brought to the table.

“I was just about to record another chapter.”

“Really?  Can I listen?”

“I don’t think you’ll hear much.  I record it in the closet,” she said.

“Which closet?”

“In the bedroom.”

“Oh.  Well, go right ahead.  I’ll just be lying on the bed.  Maybe I’ll hear something.”

They got up to go to the bedroom.  She took the computer and disappeared into the walk-in studio.  “Wait here quietly,” she said before shutting the door behind her.

She was just finishing up the story, “Horsing Around.”  She read loud enough for H to hear:

 

I was in jeans and I could feel my cunt getting totally saturated, soaking my panties through and through.  I spread my legs and rubbed his cock back and forth until finally he exploded.  It was a ginormous shot of cum over my head, but, as his cock slackened, he dripped some remaining cum down into my hair and on my face.  I had to unbutton my jeans and pull them and my panties down as I got on my knees.  As I sat under his dangling cock, I stroked my pussy till I too came in a giant puddle on the cement floor.

 

 

When Jupi was done with the story, she emerged from the closet.  She found H lying on his back, his trousers down around his ankles, his massive hard-on clenched in his right fist which stroked up and down from tip-to-base and back again.

“Could you hear?” she asked, astonished.

“MmmmmmGrrrrrrrrrAaaaaahhhhhhh,” was all he could say as his member erupted like a spewing volcano sending its warm lava all over the surrounding countryside and dribbling down its sheer cliffs, covering his hand in goo.  “Fuuuuck!”

“Did I do that?” asked Jupi innocently.

“You have the most sexy voice,” he answered.

Though flattered by his visceral standing ovation, Jupi was at least slightly disappointed that she wasn’t going to get any of her man’s patronage that day.  Never one to miss an opportunity, she got between his legs and licked up the mess he had made.

“Can I get an advance copy of that audiobook?” he asked.

Jupi smiled, looking up at H from between his legs.  “Of course,” she said.

After he left, she sent the audio files to him via email.

A few days later he texted her and said, “Jupi, you have no idea how happy you have made me.  I know that we can’t see each other, but I’ve been listening to your recording in the car every chance I get.  It’s incredible.”

“Glad you like it.”

“I’ve even started listening to it in bed.  I told my wife that it’s just a guided meditation to help me sleep, but, in fact, it has the opposite effect.  After she falls asleep, I pull out my cock and stroke to your voice.”

A week later he was at Jupi’s flat again.  This time they had an actual date planned.  After a small meal, they went into the bedroom and, lying down on the bed, he asked, “Can we, uh, listen to the audiobook?”

“But I’m right here,” Jupi replied.

“I know, but it turns me on.”

She agreed.

He had another request.  “Can I have you doggy style?”

“Yes.”

“And. . .”

“And what?”

“Never mind,” he said as she got on all fours on the bed and he stood next to it, ready to enter her from behind.

“What?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Can I put your laptop here?”

“Really?”

“I mean, I won’t if you. . .”

“No, go ahead.”

He placed the computer on her back, opened it up to Lola’s photos, and, listening to Jupi’s narration, entered her wet and waiting pussy.

Not Jupi, but a fan photo

 

Lo picked up her head and said, “Stroke it again as I rub my pussy.”  Lo leaned back across from Bill in the back seat and spread her legs wide.  Her right leg was lying on top of Bill’s knee.  She still had her cute little heels on.  Bill stroked his cock as he looked on, salivating, at Lo’s spread pussy.  With her left hand, Lo spread her pussy lips wide and with her right hand she was fingering her clit and her cunt.

Bill was treated to a feast for the eyes.  Lo came and came again to her own digital manipulation.  She so love’s to see men jerk off, but the only thing she loves more than that is to see them jerking off to her.  This Bill did with enthusiasm and then he started asking Lo, “I bet you want me to cum on your pussy, don’t you, you whore?”

“Oh yeah,” responded Lo in her low, deep, sexy, guttural voice.

“You want me to shoot my load all over that hot pussy, don’t you?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, do it,” she said in response as she continued to spread her legs and finger-fuck her pussy.

He got up from the seat and almost stood over her, frantically yanking at his cock.

“Come on, come on,” Lo encouraged, “cum on my pussy.  Come on.”  And then finally, in an explosion of cum that fell like rain all over Lo and her dress and her stomach and her pussy, he came and came and came and came some more.  Lo was shocked by how much he came on her.  She had never been drenched that much by a guy in her life. . . and she loved it.

 

As they listened to the story, they too came together. . . and loved it.

Lying next to each other, sprawled out on the mess of a bed, the computer screen still displaying Lo’s cum-covered body, H said, “You know, my wife has been listening to the stories as well.”

Lo Bathes in Beauty

“No,” Jupi said incredulously.

“Yes.  She found me out.  She discovered it wasn’t a ‘guided meditation.’  And so now, whenever she’s in the mood, she puts in her earbuds and listens with her computer open in front of her, while I go at her.”

“I can’t believe it,” said Jupi.

“I’m sorry.  Does that upset you?  I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“No, I can’t believe that little trollop.”

“Who?”

“You know who: Lola Down.  She’ll be getting off all of London before long.”

“No, dear, you’ll be getting them off with your voice.”

Thank you Lola.  Thank you Jupiter Grant.  Thank you H.  Thank you everyone who reads, listens, and gets off to these words dripping with love and lust, jizz and juices.  Thank you.

The End

10 Yoga Poses

[We offer here a sneak peek at the article just released in Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine, September 2020 Issue.  Here is ENM’s editor’s introduction to the story:

Hermann Humbert, writer for www.mysexlifewithlola.com and husband to beautiful hotwife Lola Down has been contributing stories about Lola’s exploits with us for months… this one may be the hottest one yet!!! You can read this story in its entirety right now in our September issue of ENM Magazine on Kindle, or we will publish it as a Patreon exclusive later this month.

Illustrations by H.H.]

Ten Yoga Poses

Dear Reader, you may recall that Roy and Gary are the young, twenty-something brothers from across the street with whom Lo has become acquainted back before COVID-19 shuttered us all in.  She seems to enjoy toying with them the way one might with two adorable puppies.  One day, not long ago, as things began reopening, she amused herself by going on a date with them to do some clothes shopping.

They went to a nearby mall and they followed her as she bounced from store to store trying on skirts, blouses, dresses, and shoes.  She would make them wait close to the dressing room to render an opinion for her.  Unless it was two thumbs up, or rather, four thumbs up and two cocks up, she didn’t make a purchase.  This scratched two itches for Lo: 1) flirting in the flesh and; 2) shopping.

This little tease titillated her and the boys for hours.

She told me all about it, eager to arouse my jealousy, when I got home from work, but she was let down when she realized that I was quite pleased with her excursion because it saved me countless hours of waiting by the dressing room for her to toggle back and forth between her natural impulse to purchase and her attempt to avoid buyer’s remorse.

“I bet you’d like to see me toggling back and forth between Roy’s dick and Gary’s,” she said, latching onto that word which placed the naughty image in her dirty mind.

“If it makes you happy,” I said, appearing aloof and disinterested in her foolish frolics.

She stomped her foot out of frustration and beat her fists on my chest, playfully.

“You will change your tune!” she said.

“My tune?  What will be my tune?”

“I Want You.”

“You do?  I thought you wanted your two boy-toys.”

“No, silly.  I Want You, by the Beatles.  That will be your tune.”

“You know, the subtitle to that song is, ‘She’s so Heavy’”

She flipped me the bird and said, “Of course you would know that.”

“But I think you’re just right.”

“So do the boys,” she added.  “Finally, a package deal: FOBO.”

“What is ‘FOBO’?”
“Fuck one, blow one.”

“I see.  And here I thought you just liked the company while you shopped.”

“I do!” she said enthusiastically.  “And I got this,” she said as she pranced around the room like an exotic dancer on stage.

“What?” I asked, befuddled.

“These,” she said, prancing around some more, her hands on her hips.

“Your hips?”

“No, silly.  These jeans.  They’re $250 jeans, but you’d never guess what I got them for.”

Lola’s New Jeans

“You blew a kiss to the shop clerk.”

“No.  Don’t be daft.”

“You blew the shop clerk.”

“If only.  But he was clearly not into my type.”

“Slutty?”

“I’m offended.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I meant, horny with a young man on each arm.”

“No.  He wasn’t into women at all.”

“I see.”

“Don’t you want to know what I got them for?”

“Who, the two young men?”

“No!  The jeans.”

“Oh, right.  What did you get them for?”

“It doesn’t matter now.  What matters is what I’ll get out of them for.”

“What will you get out of them for?”

“The two brothers.  They’re coming over.”

As she said that, there was a knock at the door.  I answered it and let in Roy and Gary, not knowing who was who.  Once they were in, Lo blurted out, “They say I need some caulk.”

“What?”

“Yeah, a lot of caulk.”

“Really?”

“Yes, to fill all the holes.”

“How’s that?”

“They just stick it in there and out it comes.  Voila!  There might be some overflow, but we can just wipe that up.”

“Sounds like you know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, I’ve handled caulk before.”

“You have?”

“Oh yeah.  Lot’s of times.  I’m practically a pro with caulk.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.  One hand.  Even two!”

During this whole performance, the boys just stood around and looked on dumbly.

“Where’s the bathroom?” one of them asked.

“Right down the hall there,” I said, pointing to it.

“And the caulk?” asked the other.

“I thought you two brought your own,” I said.

“No, silly,” said Lo.  She then went into our little tool drawer and pulled it out, along with a caulk gun, a box cutter, a sponge and a bucket.”

“Here you go,” she said to the other brother.

“Oh, caulk!” I said, with enthusiasm.  “I thought you were talking about. . . ah, never mind.”

“Yeah, what did you think we were talking about?” asked Lo, as if she hadn’t meant to confuse me all along.

She led the second boy down the hall and showed him the seam where the tub meets the tile and how discolored it had become.

The two boys set to work while Lo went into the adjacent master bedroom and slipped out of her jeans.  She wore only her thong and her blouse.  They were unaware until she called into the bathroom and offered a cool drink.  The boys looked up, dumbfounded.

Lola’s Thong and Blouse

“Uh, sure,” said one of them.

“Two lemonades ok?”

“Fine,” said the other, drawing out the vowel as if talking about Lo and not the lemonade.

Lo turned and went to the kitchen to grab the drinks for the boys.

“Don’t turn up the heat too much,” I said to her.

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked like Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind.

She turned tail and walked away from me.  I followed just to see what would happen next.

She went into the bathroom and bent over to the kneeling brothers and handed them the drinks.  “Oh, that looks much better!” she said of their job.  Truth be told, it was a hack job by two amateurs.  That didn’t matter to Lola.  That was strictly beside the point.  All the more reason to invite a professional contractor in and give him an encore performance of her Emmy Award winning act.

The boys, clearly distraught at the difficulty of the task and the distraction of Lo, wiped the little sweat from their brows and drank the lemonade.

“Maybe now that you fixed that so quickly, you two could help me with something else,” she said.  I was very curious what she had in mind, as were our two fix-it men.

Lo crawled across the bed, her ass cheeks seductively contorting like a proud lynx prancing before her prey.  She got to the edge, her top half disappeared off the side of the bed, and then reemerged with her Hitachi.  She looked over at the captivated cherubs and said, “I don’t know if the motor blew out or what, but I can’t seem to get it to turn on.”

The boys practically fumbled over each other trying to get to her.  As they did, she cast me a knowing look.  She had just used the masturbatory machine that morning.

One of the boys held it, flipping the switch on and off to no avail as the other inspected the wire.  Both of them stood over Lo’s prostrate body on the bed.  She smiled up at them.

“Did I overdo it?” she asked.  If there was a portmanteau that combined ‘innocently’ with ‘guiltily,’ like the word frenemy, then that would be how she asked that question.  And what a frenemy she was to me just then!

One of the boys flipped a switch on the power cord under the bed and the giant white ball began vibrating ferociously in the other’s hand.

“You did it!” squealed Lo.

“Yeah,” said the one who flipped the switch.  “You must have tripped the circuit breaker on this,” he said, holding up the power cord and showing Lo the emergency shut off button (that I’m sure Lo purposely shut off for just this reason).

“Oh, I see,” she said.  “Thanks!”  She spread her legs wide, indicating where the vibrating ball of the Hitachi should go.

The one holding it eventually got the hint.  He placed it between her legs, over her thong.

“Yeah,” said Lo lustily.

He let it rest there for a while.  Lo rotated her hips to get the vibrations where she wanted them.

“Turn it on hi-power,” she instructed.  He obeyed.  Lo raised her hips and pulled down her bra.  The other brother reached down and began pinching her nipples as Lo cupped her tits with her hands.

“Yeah,” she moaned again, “do that.”  Lo slowly unbuttoned her blouse and then removed it to let him see and touch her breasts.

She looked up at the boys and asked, “You two have been under strict quarantine?”

“Yes,” replied one of them.

“No going out?  No seeing anyone?” asked Lo.

“Yeah,” said the other, “not for the past two or three months.”

“No girlfriends?”

They both laughed a little.  “Even if we had girlfriends, which we don’t, our mom would never let us see them.  Not during this pandemic.”

Lo ran her tongue over her teeth as she looked up, her head very close to their bulging cocks.  “So, you two haven’t been able to. . .”  Before she finished her sentence, she grabbed the Hitachi and manipulated it to flip her switch and, without warning she was convulsing, cursing, and cumming with a wave of wetness flowing over her thong, soaking the bed covers.  All the time, I watched in silence from the doorway.

The two guys gawked at Lo’s percolations.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” she said to the two of them when she caught her breath.

Each of them looked over at me standing in the doorway, smirking just a little at Lo’s mode of flirtation.

She slid out of her soaked panties and asked, “Who’s first?” as she spread her legs wide and smacked her pussy.

One of the boys pulled down his pants and pulled out his cock.  He was large and very hard.

Lo licked her lips at the sight of it.  She turned on her tum.

Anahatasana – Melting Heart Pose

  1. Anahatasana – Melting Heart Pose

She rotated horizontal on the bed and got into the anahatasana, or melting heart pose, protruding her ass over the side of the bed prominently, while her arms were stretched out far in front of her head.

The boy whose pants were down – Roy or Gary? – slid in and Lo showed her appreciation with a long low moan.  As he was sliding in and out of her, his brother dropped his pants around his ankles.  He tapped out his brother and tapped into Lo with enthusiasm.  Lo seemed to enjoy the change of length, girth, and rhythm.  His brother stood next to him spreading Lo’s ass wide apart for his brother’s easy access.

Without warning, Lo’s body involuntarily squeezed him out – the first physiological sign that she’s about to have a violent squirting orgasm.

“You’re going to have to ride that pony better than that if you want to stay in the saddle,” I jibed, knowing full well how difficult it is to avoid slip-sliding out when her trap squeezes shut.

“Let me try,” said the other brother, thinking he’d have the superior technique.  He slid right in after Lo’s sprinkle (which soaked all the clothes on the floor) had subsided.

Bitilasana – Cow Pose

  1. Bitilasana – Cow Pose

Lo propped her torso up on both arms and her back made a concave curve causing her ass to protrude upward.  She used her arms to push backward to meet the boy’s thrusts.  Bang, bang, bang he bounced off of her butt.  Smack, smack, smack she slid down on his rod, her tits flailing forward and back with the rapid back-and-forth of her torso.  I should mention that, unlike in the first position, when she had her head down, facing the bed, now she was looking directly at me as she took the shocks from behind.  Our eyes were locked and she was feeding off of how much delight I took in her sexual prowess.

“Fuck me!” she commanded over her shoulder, as if he wasn’t giving it his all already.  “Come on, can’t you do better than that?”  She was just taunting him now.  I knew very well that she wasn’t used to this sort of rough ride.  The poor young fellow put so much force into it that I was worried he might pull a muscle in his back.

I saw Lo’s fingers curl up and clutch the bed sheets as if she were hanging on vertically to the bed, trying not to fall.  I saw her toes curl and I knew what was about to happen.

Sure enough, she shot contestant #2 right out of her convulsing cunt just as forcefully as she ejected the first one, followed by a torrent of orgasmic flow.

The two brothers watched, amazed at the quantity and velocity of her ejaculation.

Balasana – Child Pose

  1. Balasana – Child Pose

Lo curled up her knees under her and stretched her arms out far in front of her, tucking her head down between her arms as she caught her breath.  The boys were polite enough to give her the time she needed to recuperate.  They stood there, flanking her naked body, like silent sentinels at attention, their spears raised.

“Slide your hand over her soaking snatch,” I instructed them, breaking my silence.

“What?”

“Slide your hand over her soaking snatch,” I repeated.

The kid did what I said.

“Now, use that to rub around her asshole.”

“Daddy,” Lo objected.  She doesn’t like vulgarity to be used about her body.

“Around her special spot,” I corrected myself.

The kid did as he was told.  Lo moaned.

“Slide it in, gently.  Not too quickly.”

This kid needed step-by-step diagrams.

Lo moaned again.

“When she feels loose, insert two fingers.  She likes that.”

“Loose?” Lo asked, looking up at me from the bed.

“Relatively loose,” I corrected.

Uttana Shishosana – Extended Puppy Pose

  1. Uttana Shishosana – Extended Puppy Pose

Lo extended her arms out in front of her and lifted her ass up in the air for the boys to have it closer to their level.  Her knees were still tucked under her torso.  One of the brothers was wiggling his finger in her rear.  He eventually added a second finger.  The other brother held his cock in his hand, gawking awkwardly.

Lo was making small circles with her ass.  She moved one hand and slapped her ass cheek hard.  She did it again.  She looked back over her shoulder, enjoying the view of the brother with his cock in his hand.

Eventually she began to inch backwards, sliding off of the bed.

Uttanasana – Forward Fold Pose

  1. Uttanasana – Forward Fold Pose

Standing, Lo bent over at the hip, deeply plunging her torso down toward the floor as the young fella plunged his two fingers deeply in her ass.

“That’s enough,” said Lo.  “Fuck my ass.”

Both boys looked bewildered at the bounty of benefits they were getting.  The one who had been holding his cock took the lead and slid it right into her accommodating back door.

As he was going at her, Lo put her hands around her ankles and held the pose perfectly.  Though I couldn’t see from my vantage point, I imagine that she was looking up at the action from down below.

Eventually the other brother maneuvered onto the bed and sat in front of Lo.  Lo pulled up her torso out of the folded pose and placed her mouth on the boy’s rigid cock, sucking and slurping.  I was very impressed with the endurance both these youths had.

Malasana – Garland Pose

  1. Malasana – Garland Pose

Lo was very capable of bringing the brother before her to climax, but she was very careful not to.  Instead, she pulled forward, leaving Mr. Backdoor standing firm.  She lifted her lips up off of the cock they had covered with wet caresses, and she climbed up on the bed.

“You,” she said.  I think she was as confused as to who was Gary and who was Roy as I was.  “You, come here,” she commanded like a director on set before a shot.  She placed him flat on the bed, his staff protruding upward.

She straddled him, facing him.  Her hands grabbed her ass cheeks and spread them wide apart as she slowly lowered herself down on his eager erection, penetrating deep into her pussy.  She remained on her feet over him.

“You,” she instructed to the other brother, Mr. Backdoor.  “Get behind me and back in my ass,” she said, still spreading her ass cheeks apart.

He responded rapidly, hopping on the bed and, on his knees, sliding up and in her awaiting hole.

Now she had both brothers inside her.  She extended her hands in front of her to keep her balance and their pistons alternated in-and-out of her like a two-cylinder engine.  She moved her right hand down to her clit and began circling her bean.  Knowing Lola as I do, I knew that this move always preceded —————-

There it is!  Like a whale spout going off, her high pressure pussy precipitated all over the boy beneath her accompanied by her tirade of Tourette’s-like string of profanities.  I think she actually scared both boys.

Ustrasana – Camel Pose

  1. Ustrasana – Camel Pose

The boy behind her slipped out of her ass as Lo was drenching his brother caught between her legs.  Lo, thinking he was on the cusp of cumming himself, turned around rapidly and enveloped his cock with her mouth, taking it deep into her throat.  She could feel how powerfully the pressure was building.  At precisely the right moment, she pulled off his cock, drooped her head back, and grabbed onto her ankles with her hands, displaying her chest prominently for the young man to douse with his abundant display of gratification.

Covered in one brother’s cum, the second brother still lying between her spread legs, Lo leaned forward to lick clean any remnants of the first brother’s ejaculate.  But then she devoted her full attention to the second brother.

Lo turned over, and lay on the boy’s sculpted torso, slathering him in the cum that was on her breasts.  She kissed the brother on the lips, open mouth, and slid, kissing her way down his neck, shoulders, chest, stomach, and right down to his rock-solid passion pillar.

When her mouth had alighted on the object of her desire, she turned to the other brother and said, “Hold it for me.”

“What?” he asked in disbelief.

“Hold his cock for me.”

Having been the beneficiary of Lo’s abundant generosity, he obliged.  He reached out with his right hand and held his brother’s phallus firmly for Lo to lavish attention on it with her labia.

Marjaryasana – Cat Pose

  1. Marjaryasana – Cat Pose

Lo was on her knees, supporting herself with her arms, drooping her head down and lightly licking the tip of the youth’s cock as his brother controlled the large limb with his right hand, circling it around Lo’s lips and slapping it on her cheek, just the way she likes.

Merudandasana – Spinal Column Pose

  1. Merudandasana – Spinal Column Pose

Lo said, “Get up.”  The boy who’s tip she was teasing, looked momentarily stunned.  A questioning look appeared in his eyes.  But, by now he should have known better than to question Lo.  He sat up.  “All the way,” said Lo.

He got up.  Lo took his place, lying flat on her back.  She spread her legs wide, lifting them in the air, and grabbing her toes with her hands.  Her pussy, drenched and glistening, clean shaven, and pink, was spread wide.

“Stand there,” she said, indicating right in front of her, between her legs.

The youth was on his knees, his cock raring to plunge into Lo’s gorgeous glazed open pussy.

“You like what you see?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you ready to cum?”

“No.”

“Good.  Fuck me, then,” she said.

He got up and into her.  Her arms and legs enveloped his body.  Her face turned toward me.  “Daddy,” she said as she received rapid thrusts from the youth.

“Yes,” I responded.

“I’m thirsty.”

I disappeared to the kitchen where I got Lo a large glass of ice water.  I returned with it.  The boy was pounding her, oblivious of my movements.  Lo reached out with her left hand and took the water from me.  Her forehead was sweating.  Her hair matted down in front.  She gulped the water as the boy continued his enthusiastic jousts at her cunt.  I could tell that by this point, she wasn’t even feeling him, she was so wet and wide.

After she returned the water to me, she pushed the boy back, interrupting his irreverent attempts to cum inside her.

“Are you about to cum now?” Lo asked as he sat on his haunches in front of her, between her legs.

“I’m close,” he said.

“Grab it,” she instructed, but not to him, to his brother.

He took his brother’s hard cock in his hand.

“Jack him off.  I want him to cum right here,” said Lo, slapping her pussy.

The two went at it, cock-in-hand, as Lo spread her lower lips with her fingers and slid a few deep inside.

“You like seeing me fuck myself?” she asked.

The boys couldn’t answer.  They were mesmerized.

“You like how much of a slut I am?  You like that I fucked you both right here in front of my man?  You like my pussy?  You like my ass?” she asked as she began fingering her special spot for them.

Suddenly, without any warning, the youth ejaculated with more force, volume, and velocity than I had ever seen.  He covered Lo from head to pussy in his cum as his brother encouraged the multiple eruptions of his quaking cock.

“That’s it,” said Lo.  “That’s it.  Cum.  Good boy.  Cum all over me.  Yeah.”

Ananda Balasana – Happy Baby Pose

  1. Ananda Balasana – Happy Baby Pose

When the brother finally completed his composition on Lo’s canvas, he smiled, obviously very pleased with himself.  Lo smiled too and she bent her knees and curled her back a bit, pulling at her toes with her hands.

“Daddy,” she said.

“Yes Lo?”

“May I have my glass dildo please?”

I opened the night table drawer and pulled out “Glindo,” her glass dildo, and handed it to her.

She inserted it slowly in her wet pussy.

“Um,” said one of the boys, “we had better get going.”

“OK,” said Lo as she masturbated.

“This was fun,” said the other boy.

Lo was moaning at this point.

The boys were putting on their soaking wet clothes.

“Just tell your mom that you washed our car,” I said.

“Right,” said one of the boys.

“Bye Lo,” said the other one.

“Bye,” said his brother.  “And thanks!”

Lo was too self-absorbed to respond.

 

Medicinal Masturbation

“Are you going to sleep, Daddio?” she asked, rubbing my flaccid member under the sheets.

“Guurerumph,” I inarticulately mumble.

“But what about me?”

“Sleep.”

She continued gently stroking my rod up and down with just her fingertips, ever-so-lightly.  I could feel my cock growing.  Her curious fingers moved lower, tickling my testicles.

“You’re so big.  So full.  Are you sure you want to sleep?”

No response.

After dallying on my scrotum for a while, she explored further down below, gently circling and prodding.

“Oh come on Daddy, I’m feeling randy!  What do I have to say?  What do I have to do?” she whined.

“Fine,” I said, groggy.  “Roll over and spread your legs.”

“But I’m on my period.  It’s heavy.  It will make a mess.”

“Grrrrrrr,” I grumbled.  “Now you’ve got me hard.”

“I didn’t do that.”

“You certainly had a hand in it.”

“Jack it for me.”

“Lo, I’m too tired to jack it.”

“I like seeing you jack it.”

“You like seeing anyone jack it, or jill it, or whatever it.”

“True, but I’m tired of being a boner donor and of just seeing cumtributes.  I want the full 4-D experience.”

“Four dicks?”

She laughed, “No, silly.  Though that would be nice.  Three dimensional, plus the added fourth dimension of the smell, taste, and feel of cum on me when you’re done.”

“Is that what they mean by 4-D?”

“That’s what I mean by it.”

By this point I was up and awake.

“Do you want me, Daddy?” she asked, despite having just told me I can’t have her.

“No,” I said out of frustration.

“Your Truth Stick says otherwise.”

“You can’t handle the truth,” I said.

“The truth is hard.”

“The truth is hard to swallow.”

She leaned over and looked up at me as her mouth descended on my ‘Truth Stick.’

“Fine,” I said.  “I’ll jack it.”

“You will?!”

“But only if you let me use Stoya.”

Now it was her turn to grumble.

“Why can’t you just jack it with your right hand like a real man?”

“Because I am a real man with real calluses on my hands.  Stoya feels better. . . and she makes you jealous.”

“Fine, I’ll take whatever I can get.  My fucking cramps are killing me.  You get Stoya all lubed up and I’ll be right back.”

She went into the bathroom and grabbed a heating compress.  She put it just above her Delta of Venus.

“OK, I’m ready to watch you now,” she said, her legs spread and her little tampon string dangling from between her pussy lips.

I stood over her, looking at her pussy, fucking Stoya’s.

Strings Attached

“That’s it, Daddio,” she said, encouraging me, her red tongue gliding over her white teeth.  She reached over the side of the bed and pulled out her glass dildo, ‘Glindo,’ as we call it, and her Hitachi Magic Wand.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Medicinal masturbation.  It will make me feel better.”

She applied the Hitachi to her clit as she inserted the dildo up, next to her tampon.

“Keep going,” she insisted.

Her various objects of sexual self-pleasure were blocking my view.  In order to enhance my excitement, she said, “You know what Kaylee told me the other day?”

I kept thrusting into Stoya, but I was listening.

“She said, ‘This guy I hooked up with told me that sometimes when he fucks girls, he pictures other girls in his mind.  But, when he is fucking me, he just pictures me.’  And you know what I told her?”

She didn’t really expect me to answer.

“I told her that when guys fuck other girls, they picture me.  In fact, they look at my naked photos to get hard for their wives and girlfriends.”

“What did she say to that?” I asked her.

“She called me a dirty slut.”

“Really?”

“She said I’m an attention whore and a nympho.”

“She knows you well.”

She dropped the Hitachi by her side.  “Fuck me, Daddy,” she said.

“What?”

“Fuck me.”

“You just told me not to because you’re on your period.”

“Shut up and get in me!”

I wasn’t in a position to argue with her.  I slid out of Stoya and into Lola, accompanied by her tampon and the dildo.

“Do you like to share me?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like it if there were two other cocks in me, instead of just this tampon and dildo?”

“Yes,” was all I could say.

“Me too,” she said and I could feel her begin to convulse under me.

It was so snug, yet so wet.  I was crushed, but I enjoyed the feeling of finally filling her up.

She could sense my body tensing in anticipation of cumming.  “Cum in me, Daddy,” she said.  “Fill me more.  Cum deep in me.  I’m your whore.”

I fulfilled her wish and then slid out.  I was still cumming.  She dropped her dildo and sat up and sucked everything she could out of me.  When she had extracted every last drop, she licked her lips and said, “You know what Joseph Campbell says?”

“That’s an odd thing to ask at this moment.  But I’ll bite.  What does Joseph Campbell say?”

“The demon you swallow gives you its power.”

“Do you feel powerful?”

“MmmmHmmmm,” she hummed.

She got up out of the bed and headed to the bathroom.

“Where are you going”

“I have to take out the fucking tampon you lodged in my throat!”

When she returned, I asked, “Did you get it?”

“Yes,” she said, “but I just remembered.”

“What’s that?”

“I have my OBGYN appointment first thing tomorrow morning.”

I pulled the covers over me and was quietly drifting off to sleep.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“You know what Benjamin Franklin says?”

“I’ll bite.  What does Benjamin Franklin say?”

“Early to bed, early to rise.”

“Well you better rise in the morning,” she said squeezing my cock with her hand, “cause I’m going to want more of this then.  It’s the only thing that relieves my cramps.”

“Don’t worry, the doctor will be in tomorrow.”

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

Interview With a Nympho

[A word to our sponsors – that’s YOU. Recently a dear reader wrote in to say that he had difficulty subscribing to our blog. We reached out to our beloved tech guy – our Knight in Shining Armor – and he took care of the problem right away. If you have any questions or concerns about subscribing or anything else, please write to us so we can help you out: downloladown@gmail.com. Please subscribe and get all the sexy stories every month!!!]

Working from home? Enjoy mysexlifewithlola as you do.

[I, Lola Down, recently was asked to do an interview about my sex-life under lockdown. Even though HH just wrote an article about it for Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine, I was happy to give an interview in my own words. It ended up on the cutting room floor, but here it is for your reading pleasure.]

1. How has your sex life changed since practicing social distancing?

My sex life with my man, HH, is pretty much the same. I mean, we have lots of time together and, actually, that’s been great for both of us. But, to fill you in on our relationship, he’s in his fifties and I’m in my mid-twenties. His libido isn’t quite where mine is. In fact, he says that my libido outstrips that of a teenage boy. Well, maybe he’s right. So between us, things have remained the same — about once or twice a day. However, with “social distancing” (which is really physical distancing since I am still very social, just physically distant) I cannot meet men and women in person like I used to. HH and I have an understanding. I’m given free reign (to be a ‘hotwife’) and he saves himself for me. But now, all my hotwife activity is only virtual — through email (downloladown@gmail.com) or tweet or other social media. There’s a lot of men and women out there who are trapped. Either they’re alone or they are with partners that don’t satisfy them. They’re happy to find me.

Caught!

2. What is it like when you do decide to leave your apartment, flat or home?

Where we are, when we go out it’s probably much like where you are. People walking around or jogging or biking. Some have masks on, some don’t. I get really upset at those joggers who sneak up on you and don’t have a mask on and they come within a foot of your personal space. Go jog somewhere else! You know? Shopping is a pain, but you know, as they say, we’re all in this together. I can’t complain any more than the next person.

3. How do you control your urges or cravings on a daily basis?

Working from home makes it easy. Simply put, I don’t have to “control my urges or cravings” as much as I would at work. I can simply hop into the bath, turn on the warm water, spread my legs and have a little mid-day me-time. No sneaking around to the office supply closet or an empty bathroom.

Lola Social Distancing

4. What is the hardest part of being a sex addict in quarantine?

Am I a sex addict? Like Jessica Rabbit says, “I’m not bad. I’m just drawn that way.” HH depicts me as a sex-craved nympho. I just think I’m sex-positive with a healthy libido. I think that this “social distancing” is as draining on me as anyone. I thrive on social interaction. The other day I woke up and turned to HH and said, “I had such a vivid dream. I was at a restaurant and had just finished an excellent meal and a great cocktail. I even asked for the bill. It was amazing!”

“Was it as good as a sex dream?” he asked.

Honestly, it was better. I just want to be outside with people, dining out, seeing and being seen, dressing up or dressing down and, did I mention, being with people? Zoom just doesn’t do it for me.

Write me!

5. How do you cope as a sex addict in quarantine?

Didn’t the CDC say that sex with yourself is the safest sexy you can have? Well, I try to follow rules. Except when I break them. No, just kidding. That’s a rule I don’t break. I have a lot of self-pleasure sessions. Nothing new there, really. But now I can’t just call up a friend and have him or her come over to give me benefits.

6. Are you still having sex with other people while in quarantine? If so, please explain.

No sex in real life, just in my imagination. I had another crazy sex dream about Peter Dinklage the other night. I know, right? If only he and I were dining together in my dream. . .

7. How often are you watching pornography, using sex toys, or engaging in sex addicts that do not involve a partner while in quarantine?

Daily, hourly, right now. . . I mean, if you’re reading this, I’m engaging with you, right?

How to Practice Ethical Non-Monogamy Under Lockdown

[Hi everyone! We hope that you boys & girls reading this from home are all safe and healthy. We know you’re sexy! We’re interrupting our usual programing of the mini-series “Mount Bliss” to bring you this story. You, our longtime readers and fans, probably know that most of the stories you read here are true, but HH takes a long time to craft them and so they are not usually about what is happening NOW. This is a little different.  It was featured in the May edition of Ethical Non-Monogamy (ENM) Magazine (p. 38).  It’s appropriate not only because it tell you how we are dealing with life under lockdown, but also it’s appropriate since May is Masturbation Month!  We hope you enjoy and we love to hear your stories of how you are doing: downloladown@gmail.com]

How to Practice Ethical Non-Monogamy Under Lockdown

“Fuck me,” she said, “Yeah, like that.”

I looked in the slightly ajar door to see just whom Lola could be fucking during a mandatory lockdown in a global pandemic.

“Oh, yeah,” she cooed as she lay, splayed out on the bed, one hand up inside her, the other squeezing her tits.

She was fucking herself and, apparently telling herself just how much she enjoyed it.

Desperate times, I suppose.

We had been in lockdown for two weeks.  It wasn’t so bad.  We were in Florida, by the beach, which eventually got closed down.  But we had a pool.  That too got closed the second week.  Now, all we had was each other and our health – a lot to be thankful for, no doubt, but not nearly enough for Lo.

We were both working remotely.  It was a little past one in the afternoon.  I was trying to do a conference call to Ms. Gale, my secretary, and one other person, but the moans and groans, gasps and grunts from the bedroom could be heard throughout the small apartment we were renting.  When she transitioned to actual words like “Fuck me.  Yeah, like that,” I had to make an excuse to hang up and go check on my nympho in the bedroom.

I politely waited until she was done – or at least taking a pause from her self-pleasure.

“Lo, come on!”

“What Daddy?”

“It’s one-fifteen.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Don’t you have work to do as well?”

“I’ve always had an hour of me-time scheduled every day on my work calendar, even before this whole Coronavirus thing.  Everyone knows not to bother me for this hour.”

“Do they know what you’re doing on your ‘me-time’?”

“Oh no, Daddy.  Well, I mean, I guess some of them probably have their suspicions.”

“Let me tell you, if you’re as loud in your office as you are here, then everyone knows.”

“I’m sorry, Daddio.  But I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d just fuck me.”

“We fucked last night and this morning.”

“So, why not this afternoon?”

“If I fucked you as much as you want it, then I certainly would die during this pandemic, but not from the virus!”

“It’s good exercise.”

“It seems like the only exercise you’ve been getting.”

“Well, the gym’s closed.  Besides, the CDC said that the safest sex anyone can have right now is with themselves.”

“The CDC did not say that!”

“Someone said that.”

“Probably you.”

“That doesn’t make it untrue.”

“Good grief!  Well, try to keep the sound effects to a minimum.  OK?  I have calls to make.”

While I work the day away, Lola plays.  She carries on about five to ten affairs from afar with various men and women.  Her friend, Nero Black, posted about jacking to her photos while his wife, who rarely gives up her goodies to him, jills it in the next room to taboo incest literotica.  Yet, the married boy best beware if she happens to walk in on him in the onanistic act of worshipping Ms. Down.  Lo has frequently suggested (nay, more than suggested, demanded) that Nero direct his partner’s web browser to mysexlifewithlola, or, at the very least, put the two of them in contact with each other.  But, as of yet, he has refrained.  Many-a-night I’ve had to hear from Lo about how she would have treated the two of them if she were their couples counselor.

Lo is friends with a lovely married couple from NJ, Mike and Danielle.  Mike has been a stay-at-home-dad to his two young daughters while Danielle has done the 9-to-5 at the office.  This has left Mike with time to chat with Lo and fap to Lo when the girls are down for a nap.  Luckily, unlike with Mr. Black, this has all been on the up-and-up with his wife Danielle.  In fact, not only with her blessing, but her encouragement.  She loves to come home and see the cumtributes her husband made to and for Lola.  Then, after the kids are put to bed, they turn on Lo’s pixilated pussy and fuck each other while looking at Lola.

Sharing Couple from NJ Hubby’s Cumtribute to Lola

Sharing Couple of NJ Enjoying the Stories

Sharing Couple of NJ Getting off to Lo

 

Of course, for Lola this is more fodder for the fapper.

Then there’s Floss and Nikki of FlossDoesLife and LoveIsAFetish, respectively.  They both have written raving reviews of the Match, Cinder & Spark books and, what gets Lo going even more, took sexy pics of themselves getting off to the printed page.  What else are you going to do in isolation?

Floss & Lola

Nikki of LoveIsAFetish getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark

Both Matt and Nelson of tehben.com have also written glowing, yet critical reviews of the audiobook, narrated by the inimitable Jupiter Grant.

The Beautiful Jupiter Grant

Not only do the reviews get Lo riled up, but Lo listens to Jupiter recite tales of Lo’s ribald antics just about every night, which causes her to alternately laugh and lunge in the bed next to me.

Then there’s the various women Lola’s attempting to seduce via sexy chat: Chelle Silverstein, Francesca Demont, and a woman who goes by the cyber-chat name of Warm Skin. 

Warm Skin Getting off to Lo

Don’t get me wrong, this whole ordeal has taken its toll on all of us in so many ways, and Lo is not exempt from that.  There are the nights that Lo can’t sleep due to anxiety about losing her job.  Afternoons that Lo returns from food shopping and has a full-blown panic attack that she has contracted the virus and is certain to pass it on to me.  Lo’s greatest fear? – dying alone.  That means, if I die first, which is more than likely given our age difference, then who will be there for her?  So, worse than her getting sick, in her mind, is my getting sick and dying!  There is the frequent fretting about family members who are already fighting this virus in far-flung points on the map.  Yes, we don’t talk about family too much here, but we do have relatives who are now among the ever-growing statistics you read about in the news.

For Lo, the go-to stress relief from all this ever-higher mountain of seen and unseen woe is found right between her legs.

Lo practicing Social Distancing Stress Relief, pass it along.

Finally, of course, there is just your straight-up porn that Lo has been watching.  Lo has a penchant for amateur porn and her latest infatuation is with the couple Lindsey and Mike Love.  Just as Lo and I fulfill the fantasies of many of our fans, I believe, Lindsey and Mike live out the fantasy life of Lo.  A married couple who enthusiastically got into porn together from the tender age of eighteen and rise to amateur stardom, getting rich and having fun.  I think the thing that Lo likes the most about the pair is that they have a real relationship, a story, and that they are very open to exploring sex with all genders, together and solo.

An hour later, Lo emerged from the bedroom.  “Daddy, it’s hot in there.  Will you help me open the window?”

I entered Lo’s lair of self-love.  I opened the window with ease to let in the ocean breeze, but it immediately deflated downward.

“Is it broken?” asked Lo.

“I don’t know.  It definitely doesn’t stay up like it used to.”

Without missing a beat she quips, “I’m sure you can relate.”

Stay safe everyone and we’ll see you on the internet.

Lola in all her glorly!

Age Gap

[We interrupt our regularly scheduled story (from the “Mount Bliss” mini-series) to bring you this tale of epistles and dildos.]

 

“Guess who got fan mail?” sung Lola teasingly.

“Oh, what a mystery,” I said flatly, “let me see. . . could it be Lola?”

“Well, uh, yeah.  Duh.  But in addition to me, guess who else.”

“I?”

“Yes you, Shakespeare!”

“And am I allowed to read this love letter?”

“Who said it was a love letter?”

“I just assumed.”

“Here,” she said, abruptly shoving the computer over to me at the breakfast table.

I looked at the email.  It read:

Dear Lola,

Eric asked me to write you something about his special experience with you.

You and my boyfriend Eric have had chats, I know.  He`s always busy with drawing ladies from the internet.  I don’t mind, as long as the women are total strangers and from the other side of the world and I don’t have to be his model.  And we promised each other that real sex is exclusively between us.  He can ‘use’ me anytime he likes. Luckily for him I also like sex very much, so he’s a happy camper.

He tells me everything and shows me all his work.  I must say, he has got some talent but he’s no Rembrandt yet.  It turns me on sometimes when he’s busy drawing.  He sure knows his female anatomy.  At least he knows mine real well.

He told me that you would like Eric to ejaculate all over the pictures you send.  I asked him if he would do that.  He said: If you are ok with it?

I said, I don’t mind as long it’s a pic and not for real.

The thought of him jerking off over your pic was actually exciting me!  So I suggested to help him a little. . . .  That he didn’t expect.  LOL.

We agreed to do it that night.  That night I got him naked.  I kept my shirt and panties on.  I watched him stroking his cock.  It was rock-hard from the start.

I whispered some dirty words in his ears, reading from your blog, and brushed my big soft tits on his back and arms and everywhere.

I got excited a little too.  Seeing him stroking his cock for another girl and me working him up, I was soaking my panties.  I saw some precum on his cock.  I licked it away, pulled my shirt up and let him suck my breasts.  I grabbed his cock as he looked at your photos and I read to him as best I could – one eye on the words and one on his rod.

It wasn’t long before he came all over you.  I mean, all over your pic.  I must confess I swallowed a lot of it.

After that we made this photo for you. Hope you like it.

I got so horny that I wanted him to lick me and he made me come.  I was really dripping wet. After that he penetrated me real tenderly.  Only after half an hour did he eject another load in my pussy.  He obviously had to reload.  LOL.  He even ate my cream-pie!  It was great!

So Lola, thanks for the question you asked.  You are looking very young and lovely.  How old are you?  And have you ever had experience with women?  I don’t mind that.  And how is your boyfriend looking?  And do you have sex often?  Maybe we can exchange some nice pictures?

We hope to hear from you!

Bye now and kisses,

Eric and Charlotte

From Eric and Charlotte

“Lo,” I said after reading it.

She looked up at me, anticipating my reaction.

“It’s all about you.  She wants you.  This isn’t fan mail for me.  It’s adoration of the goddess for you!”

“She said she was reading your writing.”

“One line of the entire letter indirectly alludes to me and you call it my fan mail?!  Good grief!  A bigger egomaniac I never met!”

“Egomaniac or nymphomaniac?  Which is it?”

“Both!!!”

“Fine,” she said.  “I was just teasing with that.  Here’s the real fan mail,” she said, clicking on a different message from her in-box.

I read:

Dear H.H.,

Your power with words penetrates me deeply.  It’s so potent that I lose myself and end up in a place where I am with both of you.  You’re that good!  You’re the type of good that I can begin to feel you.  All I want is to reach through my screen and kiss you.  Taste you.  I’m very selfish, so I may just have to have you all to myself while Lola watches us. Be forewarned.

xoxoxo,

Jen X

Jen X

She also sent a few sexy photos of her as attachments.

“Why are you showing me this?” I asked because she usually keeps me at a “healthy” distance from temptation.  Except her temptation, of course.

“I thought it was sweet.”

“It was sexy and direct.”

“Just like me.”

“Exactly, which is why I’m suspicious of your motives.  You despise anyone who attempts to seduce me.  Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No no no,” she laughed as she got up from the table and moved very close to me.  “Show me you love me.”

“I show you with my words.”

“I want you to show me with your cock.”

“Lo, it’s eight in the morning on a Sunday!”

“Exactly.  This could be our fun day.”

“I get it now,” I said.  “You showed me that to arouse me.  You are only interested in getting your needs met.”

“On Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, sex is the top tier.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Well, it’s up there.”

“No it’s not.  Self-Actualization is top.”

“Well, I’m just going to have to go self-actualize myself, if you’re not going to do it for me.”

She sauntered to the bedroom, removing an article of clothing with each couple of steps down the hall.

As you well know, dear reader, Lo is half my age and at least double my libido.  As much as I try to satisfy her cravings, putting logs in the fire so to speak, it only makes a bigger fire of desire that burns through the logs twice as fast.  Buddha was well aware of this maddening math.  I’ve tried to steer clear of becoming consumed by coitus and I’ve finally reached an age where I can transfigure the intensity of my love from physical acts to intellectual creations.

“Your writing is just mental masturbation,” Lo called down the hallway.

“And your masturbation is just. . .physical. . . masturbation,” I responded with a repartee that fell flat as the pancake I was eating.

I turned the computer back toward me and scrolled through Lo’s other fan mail.  Something caught my eye.  It was an exchange between her and a man named Nero Black.  Nero is another middle-aged married man.  Like me, his wife spends much of her sex-drive on self-pleasure, getting off to all manner of taboo literotica.  Unlike me, she doesn’t first try to use him as a sex toy.  In their exchange, Lola had encouraged Nero to sneak mysexlifewithlola.com into his wife’s reading list somehow, or to buy one of the books or the audiobook for his wife to read.  Lo was convinced that if the two of them were to enter into the dregs of desire together, they would find each other there in the darkness of their depravity.

But for whatever reason, Mr. Black was hesitant to take Lo up on this suggestion.  He was in a sexual rut.  His wife was busy getting herself off in the bedroom while Mr. Black was jacking off in the bathroom.  But rarely did the two sex drives cross paths.  Unable to convince Mr. Black to break this pattern, perhaps because he was secretly fond of it, Lo did the next best thing – try to get Mr. Black to get off to her.

Mr. Black had written about how his wife caught him stroking himself to some porn in the bathroom and she just ignored it, with the exception of a snide remark, as if that kettle wasn’t blacker than Mr. Black.  Lo then clamored to Mr. Black to please please please use her photo next time he has a hankering for a wankering.  She even sent him a variety of choice shots to shoot his load to.  She was also hoping he would get caught by the Mrs. while looking at Lo’s image.

There is a certain pattern that emerged from the correspondences I found in Lo’s naughty letter box.  The women who wrote to me were all younger.  I guess I’m so old that statistically speaking, almost all of them will be younger.  And the men Lo wished to worship her were all older – around my age, and mostly married.

It’s true that, like Charlotte, there were a number of women around Lo’s age who also took a fancy to Lo.  But there most decidedly was an age gap between our respective fans.

A dug a little further and saw that dear Mr. Black had indeed used one of Lo’s pornographic images to find his sweet release and he even paid Lo the highest compliment of writing about it!

I walked into the bedroom to find Lo making sweet love to the greatest fuck of her life – herself.

“What is this?!” I demanded, not waiting for her to complete the self-impalement that she was engaged in with her glass dildo.

She didn’t stop.  She looked up, her right hand still rapidly thrusting in-and-out between her legs.

“Get behind me,” she commanded, evading the question and turning on all fours at the same time.

I thought she wanted me to replace the dildo with my own tool.  I was wrong.

“Grab it,” she said, indicating the handle of the dildo.  “Fuck it,” she said, indicating her pussy.  “Faster,” she said.  “Harder,” she said.  “Deeper,” she said.

As she gave me instructions, she scrolled through her photos until she came to one that tickled her fancy.

Her pussy exploded, rocketing out the glass dildo like a missile propelled by a water cannon!  She’s lucky that her discharge was aimed back at me and down at the bed or else her computer would be beyond repair.

When the waterworks were over and I had dried off, Lo was in the bathroom doing who-knows-what.  I looked at the image and accompanying story that had set her off.

“Wait!  What?!” I exclaimed.

“Don’t look!” she called to me from behind the bathroom door.

But there’s some things you just can’t unsee.

It was an illustration, thank goodness, and not an actual photo.  With it was a confession from an older woman who reported to Lola that she found her son looking at Lo’s photos and the blog.

The mother tried to use the opportunity as a “teaching moment.”

She said to her son, “It’s ok, son, Dad also gets off to Lola Down.”

“I know,” he said, ashamed, his face in his hands, “This is his computer.”

“You see,” she said, consoling him, “It’s normal.”

“But,” he began haltingly, embarrassed to say the next few words, “I’m logged on to your account.”

The mother tried not to flinch or to show any sign of embarrassment herself.  Teach by example.  It was true, she had found the blog through her husband’s search history and she had secretly fapped her snatch to it.  But now the family secrets were revealed and they revolved around Lola.

Sorry to see her son’s erection had not dissipated even through this difficult conversation, the mother offered, “Let me help you.  You’ll feel better, I promise.”

Wow!  I can’t even go into the details of what this housewife and mom shared with Lola about what happened next, but I think you get the idea.

Now, I thought, I bet that’s a story that Mrs. Black would really enjoy.

“The Good Place”

[We interrupt the mini-series, “Mount Bliss,” to bring you this timely tale of Lo’s date from Easter last year. We hope you enjoy it and hope that you have also been enjoying the mini-series. We will do our best to continue with the last few installments of the series this week. Happy Easter to everyone! We hope you are all safe, healthy, happy, sexy, and enjoying all of our content!”

“The Good Place”

It was Easter Sunday morning and we could both sleep late, finally.  But I awoke to Lo screaming, “Fuck!  God!  Fuck!  Fuck!  FUCK!!!” and a buzzing sound.  I felt the sprinkle of her holy water on my foot and then she turned to me and said, “Oh, morning!  Best alarm clock ever, right?” as she shut off her Hitachi Magic Wand and pulled it out from under the blankets.  She jumped out of bed, bare-ass, and said, “You have to get up now, Daddy, because I have to strip.”

“You’re already naked.”

“I have to strip the bed.  Get up.”

Reluctantly I got out from under the blankets as she peeled them off the bed to reveal the puddle she had made.  She removed the sheets and tossed them in the laundry basket.
“A happy Easter to you too,” I said sarcastically.  “Was that you reciting the Rosary?”

“No, but I can get my beads, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“What beads?”

“My anal beads, of course.”

“You are a sacrilegious sex-addict!”

“You are a silver-tonged poet!”

“Now that we have stroked each other’s egos, what else would you like to stroke?”

As she was taking out the fresh sheets, she picked up her Hitachi and said, “Now I know why they call it a Magic Wand!  Because it does the trick every time!”

Meanwhile, I was standing naked, my cock saluting her sexy body as she moved and jiggled making the bed.

Once the corners were all tucked and the bed turned down, I jumped in.

“Hey!” she said, “I just made that!”

“Yeah, well it was made just for me.”

“No, it was made for me. . . to get laid.”

“I don’t object to that.”

“Later,” she said, to my great disappointment.

“What do you have to do now?”

“I have a date.”

“What?!”

“A date, with a girl.”

“What?!” I said again.

“Yeah, I took out another ad,” she said, nonchalantly, as she tossed her phone on the bed for me to see.

Lola’s Ad featuring Lola Getting Off to her 18″ dildo

Adventurous, sexy, intelligent, fun female seeks the same for good time out on the town and in the bedroom.  I like to dominate and, occasionally, be dominated.  I’m experienced and in an open relationship, but he will not be part of this.  Trysexual – I’ll try anything!   D&D Free. You be too.  NO GUYS!  Must have voice confirmation.  Send e-mail with info about you and pics.  Need not be explicit, but must show face.

 

“When did you do this?” I inquired.

“A while ago,” she said in her Scarlett O’Hara voice as she put on her pink thong panties.  “And my date is today.”

“Can I come along?” I asked.  It was more like pleading.

“No!  Didn’t you read the ad?”

“Yes, but. . .”

“No buts.”

“But your butt.  It’s such a nice butt.  And it’s such a nice day.  Where are you going?”

“We’re meeting for coffee at the café around the corner.”

“I’ll just sit by you.”
“No, you’ll make me self-conscious.”

“Please.”

I must have been very pathetic because she finally gave in.

“Fine, but you have to wait at least ten minutes before you leave, and don’t sit anywhere near me.”

“OK.  I’ll just sit where I can see you.”

She put on her cutest pink skirt and white t-shirt top, little baby blue pumps, and grabbed a designer handbag.

“How do I look?”

“You’re missing something.”

“What?”

“A pink Easter bonnet.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.  Remember, ten minutes!”

“Yes, I know.  I still have to get dressed anyhow.”

She was out the door and I rifled through my drawers to find something inconspicuous to wear.  I put on the first things I found and dashed outside. I could see Lo’s little caboose sashaying down the street about fifty yards ahead of me.  It was a beautiful sight along with the pink blossoms on the trees and the budding tulips.

I slowed down as Lo found her date and introduced herself, sitting down next to her at a little table on the sidewalk.  Either her date got there early or Lo was late.  In either case, Lo’s date was a very cute redhead with freckles.  Lo had her back to my approach.

I was hoping to get a seat in the restaurant where I could safely spy on the two of them from behind the plate-glass window.  But the hostess seated me outside, just diagonally from them both.  Not only could I see everything, I could hear them too!  At first Lo didn’t see me, thank goodness, because she would have been very cross at me.

They ordered breakfast and mimosas.  I did too.

Lo’s date was not at all what I had expected.  Usually the people who reply to these personal ads are men and women (or couples) roughly about Lo’s age – early to mid-twenties.  But maybe due to the aging of the technology and its becoming obsolete by newer apps, like Tinder and Bumble, it’s an older crowd that is cruising the virtual personals.  (By the way, Lo doesn’t use those more popular apps because she’s afraid of being recognized by her colleagues, or worse, students!)  This woman was in her mid-thirties, at least.  Maybe forty, but it’s hard to say.  Long strawberry-blonde hair, thin, wearing denim shorts, high wedges with straps, and a loose-fitting black blouse.  She rocked the outfit, but I was surprised to see a woman who looked like she could be a mom.

The seats outside filled up and it got a little louder.  I found it difficult to hear them, but I caught snippets of their conversation.  The mystery woman (I didn’t know her name yet) was asking about Lo’s “half-open relationship.”  I heard Lo reply, “I’m not homosexual or heterosexual, bi-sexual, or even metro-sexual.  I’m very sexual.”  I’m sure she followed that with a pass of her tongue over her pearly white teeth.

The woman continued along the same lines, inquiring about Lo’s promiscuity (in a polite way) and Lo said, “I don’t call it slutty.  I call it getting my needs met.”

I could see that Lo’s date liked this sort of talk.  Lo can be very direct.  The date reciprocated.  I heard her say, “Your pussy and panties must smell so good!”

To which Lo replied, “Like roses and cotton candy.”

When they had finished their meals and were drinking coffee, the waitress brought them each a complimentary Cadbury egg for dessert.  Lo was elated.  She unwrapped it and then slowly bit into the chocolate and then said, “Mmmmm, I love to lick out the cream!”

“Me too,” said her friend.  “How about we go back to your place?”

“I’m wide open to that idea,” said Lo, and I could see her uncross her legs and remove her foot from her shoe to rub her friend’s calf.  “But,” she added, “my man is there right now.”

I wanted to leap up from my seat and say, “No, no!  I’m not.  I’m right here!  Go right ahead.”  But I had to keep silent.

Her friend looked very disappointed.  Lo hates to disappoint.  “I’ll tell you what,” she said, “maybe I can text him and tell him to leave us alone for a couple of hours.”

Her friend perked up at that idea.  Lo took out her phone and soon I got a text saying, “Is it ok, Daddy?”  Thank goodness my phone was on silent, because the sound of it going off with a text message may have looked suspicious.

I texted back, “Is what ok?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.  I know you’re sitting right there.  Is it ok for me to take Meri to our place for a while?”

“If that pleases you,” I texted back.

Lo smiled at her friend.  They paid the bill and soon were off to fuck, leaving me with nothing to do on Easter morning.  I didn’t even bring a book!

About two hours later and about eight miles of strolling through our sunny city streets, I finally got a text from Lo.  It said, “Exhausted!  Come home.”

I hightailed it back to our place only to find Lo in the messed bed, naked again.

“Come here,” she said.

“Still love me?” I asked first.

She pulled down the covers and spread her legs as far apart as they would go and said, “Daddy, I love you THIS much!”

“Will you tell me each and every detail?”

“You know I will.  I have a pornographic memory.”

I got naked and lay on top of her and plunged my rod deep in her hole.

She said, “Uh uh.  No.  In my ass.  My cunt is worn out.”

I flipped her over on her tum and slid right in.

“You’re so slick,” I said.

“I’m a well-oiled machine,” she replied.

“Now tell me,” I insisted.

“Believe it or not, Meri is a mother of three and the oldest is eighteen!”

“I can’t believe it,” I said, both about what Lo had said and how good her rear entrance felt.  “You fucked a mom?!”

“More like she fucked me.  She’s been married twenty-two years and has never before been with a woman.”

“Really?”

“She got permission from her husband to find someone to show her the ropes.”

“There were ropes involved?”

“Shut up and keep fucking my ass.”

I am good at taking instructions like that.

“We got here and she couldn’t wait to get out of her clothes and hop into bed.  No small talk, no foreplay, nothing.  So I asked her, ‘What do you want?  To do me or me to do you?’  She said she wanted to do me.  She wanted to fuck me good and hard.  She has quite the domineering streak about her.  So I pulled out my dildo and placed it in her hands.  She was amazed at the size of it.  I told her not to be shy.  I slipped out of my panties and pulled my skirt over my waist and lay on the bed with my legs spread.  She began by fingering me.  She asked if it was ok first, which I thought was nice.  I said, ‘Just fuck me like your little whore.’  That got her going.  She used the dildo on my puss, ramming it fast and hard, hitting my spot.  She never saw a woman squirt before in real life and she was thrilled that she was able to do that for me!  Little did she know that I squirt just about every time.”

Our next book will be called “Slut Life” about Lola’s adventures by the ocean

“Are you squirting now?” I interrupted to ask, since I felt her juices dripping down my thigh.

“Not yet, Daddy.  I’m just soaked.”

I increased my speed and depth.

“That’s it,” she said.  “Like she did with the dildo in my cunt.”

She pulled up a photo of Meri from her phone to look at it.  “She has great tits,” Lo said as she began squirting on me with force, soaking the bed.  She suddenly fell forward, lying flat on her tum in the puddle she made, convulsing like a fish out of water.  There was no way I could stay in her.  I grabbed my drenched, hard baton and lay on my back next to her.

“Are you ok?” I asked.

I saw her eyes roll to the back of her head.  She was temporarily blitzed out.

When she came to, she said, “What an amazing day!”

“Full of Easter Eggs,” I said, jokingly.

She played with my hard cock with her right hand, seeing how it bounced back into its rigid upright position when she would bend it down.

“Christ has risen.  Christ will cum again,” she said, stroking my member from the base to the tip.

“Good for Christ, but I haven’t cum once!”

She pivoted on her tum so her mouth was over my cock and she put out her tongue as if to receive Holy Communion.  “May I have your flesh?” she asked.

She took my cock in her mouth and slid up and down the shaft.  She went all the way down to my balls and took them in her warm, wet mouth.  It felt good, but I needed sweet release.  She returned to the tip and looked up at me.

Momentarily, she pulled up off my cock in order to say, “I wanted to go down on her.  I wanted to return the fuck for her.  But she didn’t let me.  She just fucked me fast and furious and filled my cunt with all sixteen inches of my dildo.  I didn’t get to give her any pleasure at all, other than the pleasure of pounding me like a boss.”

Lo went back down on my dick looking up at me again.  “Am I a good girl, Daddy?” she asked, looking for approval.

“Did Meri think you were a good girl?”

“I don’t know,” she said as her fingers fondled me between my legs, lightly.  “I came by the bucket load, and then she said she had to get going.  She had plans with her family for Easter, she said.  She got dressed and simply blew me a kiss as she let herself out.  I was too weak to even get up.  I used my skirt to soak up what I could and texted you.”

“You’re a very good girl,” I said.

I was lying on my back and she got up, straddled me with her knees beside my hips, and she grabbed her ass cheeks with each hand, spread them, and slowly let herself down on my erect cock, guiding it directly into her anus, slowly.  I’m not nearly as long as her dildo, but she slid down on me until she was sitting on my pelvis.  She pulled her feet in between my legs and sat there, her back to me, and she rocked gently back and forth to feel me deep inside her.  I could feel the tip of my member penetrating as far up as possible.  She spread her legs and began fingering her clit.  She grabbed her red dildo, the one that Meri had used on her, and slipped it up and in her pussy.  I could feel it enter her.  She was filled and tight and moaning a tune of pleasure.  I lay on my back enjoying her ride.  She called over her shoulder to me, “Cum in me.  Cum.  Cum and fill me up.  I want to feel your hot. . .”

She didn’t finish her command before I obediently complied.  I pulsed with strong spurts of spunk into her hole.  She tightened her grip on me even further and I felt as if she wouldn’t let go.  I didn’t mind.  I liked being there, deep inside her.

I felt her slide the dildo out from her front hole as she squirted down onto her ankles.  And then, after a long sigh of relief, she slowly lifted her bum up off of me.  I slid out of her as she eased her way up, with both hands grabbing her ass again, and she let all of my cream filling slowly leak out onto my flaccid cock.

Her whole body crumbled as if, deprived of my rigidity, it had no strength to remain upright.  She lay next to me on the bed.  She curled into her little spoon as I cuddled her as her big spoon.  She fell off to sleep in the midst of all the mess she and I had made together, not to mention the mess Meri had made of her.  It was only a cat nap.  When she awoke, I whispered in her ear, asking her, “Would you like to watch an episode of “The Good Place?”

“Mmmmmm,” she said, moving her right hand behind her, reaching down to my cock and then inserting a finger in her soaked ass, and she said, “This is the good place.”