Tag Archives: Exhibitionism

Lola Mounted

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

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

Lola in bed

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

“I did,” replied Lo.

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

“Rain?  Did it rain?” asked Lo.

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

Lo said nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time to take my lumps, I thought.

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

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

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

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

“Fine,” said Lo, flatly.

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

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

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

There was no denying Collin when he was hospitable.

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean by that?”

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

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

“I like a little game,” he said.

Game on!

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

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

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

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

Lola Ready for Action

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

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

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

“Lo, what the?”

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

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

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

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

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

Collin Finally Mounts Lo

Quick Anal Hookups

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Quick Anal Hookups

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

The next morning, Sunday, Lo was very slow to wake up.  I, like clockwork, was up with the sunrise at around 5:30.  Very gently and stealthily, I extricated myself from her naked embrace and found some clothes to slip into before sneaking out of the room in search of coffee.  Lo is my drug of choice, but caffeine is my drug of necessity.  Without it first thing in the morning, I develop a terrible headache, become susceptible to intrusive thoughts, and can be very unpleasant company.

In those newly minted minutes of the morning, the sun from yonder horizon streamed into the various windows of the “cottage,” designed perfectly to catch that brisk, new day aura.  I was glad to have my alone time and, even better, I had discovered Collin’s very fancy, very expensive Italian espresso, cappuccino, and coffee brewing machine.

I made myself a steaming mug and went outside to take in the fresh air comingled with the aroma of the rich, calming coffee.  A deep breath in and a long exhale out.  For a moment, all the drama of the previous night seemed as unreal as a dream.  I looked out over the light shimmering on the waves of the lake and felt as if everything was reborn that morning.

Just as I was taking it all in, feeling good about myself and my choice to join Lo and company up in this retreat, I heard the sliding door behind me open and, as I looked, there I saw Lilly, barefoot, in her panties and a tank-top, no bra, slip outside with me.  She too was holding a mug of hot coffee.

“Can I join you?”

“Sure,” I said, concealing the pang of resentment I always feel when my morning solitude is interrupted, no matter by whom.

Lilly stood next to me and, for a brief moment, we both enjoyed the near silence of the breeze blowing the leaves, the birds singing their praise to the day, and the dance of the sun’s rays on the little waves.  I could see her erect nipples reacting to the mountain morning air.

She broke the spell of the meditative moment by turning toward me and saying, “I don’t know what you’ve heard from Lola, but I want you to know that I never meant any harm.”

I had heard only small fragments at that point since my communication with Lo was so infrequent due to all the entertainment Collin was providing for her and Lilly.

“I don’t know much,” I said, but you can be sure that I was curious to know more.  And, not only that, I wanted to hear it from Lilly’s lips so that I could later, in bed, compare it with Lo’s version.  “Why don’t you tell me what I’ve missed.”

We sat on the lounge chairs and Lilly began from the beginning.

She recounted for me how Uncle Collin had always been for her almost a mythical figure.  He was bold, daring, full of stories of his adventures, wealthy and generous, lavishing gifts on her and her family.  Ever since she could remember, she adored him and looked at him with stars in her eyes.

She, so far as she could tell, was his favorite niece and he and Suzanne, having no children of their own, treated her as if she was his own daughter.  He took her on vacations to France and Algeria, Italy and Spain.  He spoiled her.  He indulged her every whim with an amused satisfaction at the simplicity of her pleasures.

Just around the time she hit adolescence, he had his equestrian accident.  She informed me about his injury and the damage it did to him.  As she spoke, tears welled up in her eyes.  After that, she recalled that Suzanne’s attitude toward her changed.  She was cold.  Aloof.  She attended fewer and fewer family gatherings.  She and Collin grew further and further apart.

She told me about going to Catholic school, wearing the school uniform and picking up on Uncle Collin’s subtle, yet perceptible interest in her girlfriends.  In an offhand way, she mentioned that it was around this time, her freshmen year in high school, that she discovered the “A.O.L. alternative,” as she put it.

I played dumb, as if Lo hadn’t mentioned it to me.  “A.O.L.?”

“Anal Only Lifestyle.”

“Is that a Catholic girl thing?”

“It was my thing.  And, I guess, a lot of the girls I knew.  But none of them took it as far or as frequently as I did.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but was curious to find out.  I guess I raised my eyebrows, expressing my interest and so she continued, “I was into quick anal hookup.”

“What’s that mean?” I ventured.  I knew from our previous private conversations that she enjoyed bragging and showing off her slutty side.  Maybe there was some competitiveness she felt with Lo, but I was confident I wouldn’t have to pry this information from her.

“You know, just the one-night-stand thing.  Or, later in high school, as my reputation spread, well. . .” she feigned being coy and blushing, “on a couple of occasions guys lined up outside in the backyard.  We lived in a modified ranch and my bedroom was on the ground floor.  I’d open the window, put my lubed butt out, and the guys would line up, one-by-one, for a chance at my ass.”

Sounded to me like her reputation wasn’t the only thing to spread.

“They wore condoms, I hope.”

She laughed.

“No?”

“We were in high school.  They had like zero sexual experience.  And. . .”

“And what?”

“I liked being filled up.”  As she said this, she rolled over on her tum and added, “Oh, the sun’s just high enough to tan.”  She clearly wanted me to look at her ass in those panties and imagine the backyard line-up.

She saw me eyeing her and said, “How did we get onto this topic?”

I had no idea at that point.  I was much more interested in how she managed with what little Jim had to offer her by way of anal penetration.  As I looked at her small ass in those even smaller panties, I thought that, despite her previous experience, it must not take much to fill her that way.

“Oh yeah, Uncle Collin’s accident,” she reminded me.

She then described how he appreciated having a house full of her friends, throwing house parties for them and, on occasion, spending the night with one or more of them.  “That’s how it started,” she said.  “It was all very innocent back then.  I just wanted to cheer him up when he was going through the throes of depression and was wheelchair bound.”

“So, you’re saying that. . .” I was beginning to comprehend.  She helped me.

“I knew Uncle Collin would love Lola.  And I already knew you wouldn’t mind.”

That last little afterthought upset me.  Maybe it was because normally I wouldn’t mind, but this time I did.  Maybe it was something else.

“So it was a setup?” I asked.

“I would call it a little match-making.”

I must have had a dumbfounded look on my face, because then Lilly sat up and began explaining, rapid-fire, the pieces of the story that I also didn’t know: Uncle Collin’s erectile dysfunction; Suzanne’s sexual frustration; Lo’s resorting to masturbation to relieve her own pent-up desire for Collin.  Much of what she had to say resolved some questions, but raised multiple more questions for me.

“How did you know that Collin was impotent?” I asked, picking a question at random from the array of choices in my mind.

“Let’s just say that I have my ways.”

I wondered what that meant, but didn’t dare ask.  Nor did I need to.  She willingly, almost eagerly told me all about the vacations in France, the nude beaches, the multiple attempts she made to get a rise out of her Uncle.  His eventual confession when they were alone and sharing an intimate moment.

“I suppose, if I’m guilty of anything,” she said, “I’m guilty of leading on Lo into thinking that Uncle Collin could give her what she wanted.  I knew he couldn’t, but I let her find out for herself.  In that, I may have been wrong.  But I didn’t feel like Uncle Collin’s story was mine to tell.”

She certainly had a warped conception of her role in this twisted, incestual scheme she and her uncle had going on.  But, as a friend once said, don’t yuck my yum.  I guess.

Just as she was getting to the acme of her story, the days the three of them spent at the clothing optional hotel, Suzanne walked outside, joining us.

“Good morning, Suzanne,” I said politely, feigning ignorance of her interaction with Lo the previous evening.

“How are you today, HH?” she asked, just as politely.

Ever notice how politeness and manners puts a distance between people?  They are designed to assist civilization and society in running smoothly, but the means by which they do that is by preventing us from getting too close to one another and grinding our gears.

After the events of the night before, only some of which I was present for, this artificial social barrier between us was felt much more tangibly than it would have been otherwise.

As usual, Suzanne was wearing a suggestive, sheer robe over mere skimps of clothing and was accompanied by her ever-present pooches.

“Lilly, dear, why so covered up while sunning yourself?” asked Suzanne.  “You wouldn’t want tan lines on that coveted ass of yours.”

“You’re right,” said Lilly, sitting up, taking a sip of her coffee, and slipping out of her tank top and panties.  It was a good thing I had ejaculated last night in Lo, because, had I been as backed up as I was when I arrived, I might have revealed my arousal.  As it was, all I wanted to do was escape back to Lo’s side (and then sneak inside her sweet spot).

Suzanne then sat across from the two of us, her hounds at her side, her legs crossed.

“Tell me HH,” she began, “I’m so curious.  I know it’s none of my business, but what is your secret?”

I had no idea what she was talking about and I got the sense she phrased it exactly like that to keep me guessing.

“My secret?” I asked.

“I mean, with Lo.”

Still, very intentionally ambiguous.

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” I said nicely.

“Come on,” she insisted.  “You know.”

She was really enjoying teasing me.  Or perhaps hoping that I would inadvertently answer the wrong question, revealing something I shouldn’t.

“I’m sorry, Suzanne, I don’t follow.”

“You and she.  You’re a December/May relationship.  She’s in her very first bloom of May, in fact.”

“And I’m practically in January?”

“No, not at all.  But how do you. . .” she searched for the right word, “manage.”

“Manage what?”

“Oh, no need to be shy.  We’re all friends.  Her dalliances.  Her infidelities.”

I was thinking that I could ask her the same thing, but I then realized, she probably wanted me to.

“Lo does what Lo wants.  If she’s happy, I’m happy.”

“You mean, Lo does whom Lo wants.”

“Either way,” I said.

“And you?” she asked.

“What about me?”
“You do whom you want as well?” she asked, looking over at the nude Lilly.  I noticed that Lilly had put in her earbuds and was blissfully ignorant of our conversation.  In any other situation, such behavior would have come across as rude, but in this instance, it was clear that Lilly was sending her aunt a message: “I don’t give a shit what you have to say.”

“Oh no,” I said.  “I’m content with Lo.”

“You don’t ever have a longing for something else?”

It was a weird way to put it.

“Something?” I asked.

“You know, when all you’ve had is cheap wine, you might want to taste something of a more mature vintage,” she said, uncrossing and spreading her legs.

At just that moment, who should walk out the door but Lo, with a perfect view of Suzanne’s crotch in front of me and Lilly’s nude sunbathing to the left of me.

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” asked Lo.  I heard it as, “You’re in BIG trouble, mister.”  Entrapment!  I am an innocent man!  Yes I am.  An innocent man.

Suzanne & Bandit

Interview With a Nympho

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[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

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[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

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[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.

I Want to Drown in Lola Down

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[The mini-series, “Mount Bliss,” continues from “Shadow of a Doubt”.]

“Yes, Daddy.  Yes,” she said as I fucked her.  She was flat on the bed, spread eagle, pulling her ass cheeks as far apart as she could with her two hands as I lodged my lustlever as far in her lubricated lovehole as possible.  After so long of being apart, we were finally together, no matter the circumstances of how that came about.  I had desired her.  I had dreamed about her.  I had been deprived of her.  Now I wanted to be depraved with her.  She was already there.  I was along for the ride.  We were two feral fires fucking.

“My ass, Daddy,” she said over her shoulder.

I pulled out and reentered in the desired spot.

A few lunges deep down, down in Lola Down.

She opened up for me like a brilliant rose in the heat of an August sun-shower.

“My cunt, Daddy,” she said.

I pulled out, still dripping from all the fresh spunk that was slathered on my rigid rod from her previous “lover,” and descended again down deep between Lola’s labia.  She was full like a warm pool and her lubricant and loose lips made it so that, in comparison with the tight quarters from where I reamed her in the rear, I could hardly feel her hugging my manhood.

“Turn over,” I commanded as I pulled out of her and lorded my staff over her body like a saber.

“First go in my ass again,” she requested.

I complied.  While I was in there, she and I contorted and twisted, legs this way and that, a pull and a turn, but we managed to transpose into anal missionary position so that now she had her legs wrapped around my hips as I delved into her dark recesses down under.

“Alternate,” she commanded.

“What?”

“Back-and-forth from my ass to my pussy and back again with each thrust.  Please.”

I did as she pleaded.  She wanted to be used in the worst sort of ways.  I had lost track of how many times she came.  Or was it all just one orgasm?  The sheets were soaked as she kept gushing each time I uncorked her geyser to fill her other hole.  I was truly amazed at my own stamina.  How long could I last?  Especially after a week of abstinence.  But following her commands took concentration and skill which prevented my mind from focusing on how much of a cock-hungry cum-slut Lola was.

“I want you in my mouth,” Lo said, begging to be degraded even further.

I pulled out of her ass and sat on my haunches, my cock pointing intently toward the sky.

Lo spun around on all fours like a dog at its bowl and began licking from base to tip before enveloping the entire elongated, taut organ into her mouth all the way down to the back of her throat.  She devoured it with desire.

Her debauchery and debased disposition, her unabashed and naked carnal corruption, her wild, animalistic craving, intoxicated by its own brazen disregard for society’s norms flooded my spirit with its dark light – the lure of antinomian revelation in which all dichotomies disappear and thought dissolves back into the primordial sea of the body from which it first emerged and hovered over the surface of the deep.

Shadow of a Doubt

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[The mini-series, “Mount Bliss,” continues from “Lola on All Fours” with this abridged account.]

We left the rest of the crew standing in disbelief of their own eyes and went up to the bedroom together.

Out of sight of the other four, Lo hugged me so hard that it seemed she would never let go.  She began to cry.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” she sniffled into my shirt.

Besides my other kinks and fetishes, I am particularly plagued with a terrible condition known as dacryphilia – the sexual arousal that results from seeing someone cry.

Lo’s tears, her shame, her sexual deviancy, her exhibitionism, her terrible teasing of me all day, nay, all week, and her repeating the refrain of “Daddy” all caused my already hard cock to swell to a stiffness I hadn’t felt in ages.

“Daddy, I’m so sorry.  I’m so embarrassed.  I’m so bad.  Daddy, do you even still love me?” she asked, extremely repentant.  That’s when she felt my love for her manifest in definitive form.

She dropped to her knees on the floor and held onto my rigid member with one hand and felt my soft sack with the other.  She was worshipping it.  “Your balls are so big.  So full.”  If crying turns me on, nothing turns on Lo like a male who is in desperate need of relief.

Tears were still running down her cheeks as she took me in her mouth.  She looked up at me, “It’s been so long,” she said.  I could feel the teardrops fall on my thigh.

Did she mean so long since she and I had been together or so long since she gave someone a blowjob?  I didn’t know.

“Have me, Daddy,” she said, getting on all fours on the bed.

Her puss was still leaking and looked puffy, pink, gleaming and glistening like two perfect slices of tuna sashimi.  I know that sounds weird, but I tell it like I saw it.

“What are you waiting for Daddy.  Don’t you want to fill me up?”  Doggie style, she awaited my mount.

“I feel like I’m in Shadow’s shadow,” I said.

“Don’t think about it that way, Daddy.”

“How should I think about it?”

“Don’t think.  Fuck.”

“Don’t think.  Fuck,” I thought to myself.  Fuck.  Fuck her.  Fuck her cunt.  Fuck her filled foaming warm wet sloppy soaked queefing cum-drenched c*****-infused cunt.  And that’s just what I began doing as she audibly moaned with a sound that reminded me of the final, satisfying chord of a symphony.  All that tension from the screech of the violins, the percussive pressure of rhythm, the rising anticipation of the bass as it ascends step-by-step up the scales, finally resolved in one beautiful resolution that was Lo’s guttural moan of pleasure.  Mount Bliss.

I knew, however, that the tone of gratification was prelude to the new composition that she and I were in the process of creating together.  I pulled back and saw in the darkness . . . thick cum drip from the labia just before I pushed back in, deep and far.

Lo collapsed onto the bed, lunging forward from her doggie style position to being sprawled out on her tum, her legs spread, and reaching back with both hands to grab her ass cheeks and squeeze them as I continued to enter and exit her from behind.

“Yes, Daddy.  Yes,” she said.

[For unabridged version, send us an email.]

Southern Comfort

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[The mini-series, “Mount Bliss,” continues from “Asses Up” with a story of reuniting lovers.]

Lola’s Nectarine

 

There we were, the six of us, finally, all together.  Lo and Lily, naked as water nymphs wading in the blue lake.  Collin, a seeming avuncular benefactor to his young niece and her attractive friend.  Suzanne, sitting bemused by her husband’s masochistic tendencies.  Oh, and the two dogs, Shadow and Bandit, lounging in the warm sun, too lazy to bark at Jim and me as we approached the backyard, they merely lifted their heads and looked over with expressions of mild curiosity mixed with ennui.

After Lola had greeted me and Lily greeted Jim, the two of them had made proper introductions of me to Suzanne since, as of yet, I had never met her.  I could see a spark of interest in her eye as I shook her hand politely and Lo showed me off like a prize on a game show.  I didn’t want to be Suzanne’s prize.  I just wanted to be unwrapped by Lo.

I greeted “Uncle Collin” with an external warmth and “manly” handshake that masked my deep-seated antipathy toward him.  Collin and Suzanne were hospitable, offering us lunch, cold drinks, and to change clothes if we wished to enjoy the lake.

I didn’t know how to say, “Can you all please just allow Lola and me some private time to ourselves before we join you?”  So I didn’t say that.  Not to mention, Lo seemed quite content with making me suffer by continuing my physical deprivation of her body and my mental agony of seeing her show off her assets before my nemesis, Collin.

As I said, Lo and Lily waded into the placid lake as Jim and I sat on lounge chairs, tall Gin and Tonics by our sides, making small talk with Collin and Suzanne.  “How was the ride?”  “What the hell’s happening in the big city?”  “Have you heard all the adventures that we’ve been up to here?”

That last question, spoken in his boisterous tone by Collin, landed like a grenade in my lap.  I wanted to say, “Yeah, I heard about how you have been living out all your fantasies of seducing girls one-third your age, one of whom is your niece no less!”

I suppose this was a writer’s karma coming back to bite me since a while back I had written lurid, lengthy passages about The Nutcracker and Clara’s relationship with her Uncle Drosselmeyer.  Here, life was imitating my art (or philosophical musings) as Uncle Collin played the prurient host to titillate Lo with his perfectly choreographed vignettes of vice.  Of course, that’s not the way Lo saw things.  According to her, Collin was a perfect gentleman, showering upon her all the kindness and attention that she rightfully deserved.  Vanity skews reality terribly.

The girls sat down on their towels in the sun as Jim, Collin, and I sat in chairs.  We were all facing out toward the lake.  Collin offered to get the girls another drink.  Lo asked for a tall glass of ice water in addition to another G&T.  It seems to me that there is an unwritten rule that women must do things in pairs, never solo, and so Lily also asked for a tall glass of water on the side.

I tried to be a good guest and offered to help Collin, but he turned me down and encouraged me to “get reacquainted” with Lola.

Suzanne returned with a tray of drinks.  In her absence, she apparently changed into a skimpy outfit.  Not quite nude, but not hiding anything either.  The dogs were dutifully by her side.

Lola accepted the drinks graciously and then Jim and Lily got up to play a game of horseshoes on the lawn.  Lola remained, sitting on her towel across from me.  She sat up and bent her knees, displaying her crotch to me.

“Hot today,” she said with a seductive sip of her straw.

She pulled out an ice cube from her glass and ran it over her lips, under her chin, down her neck, over her nipple, and down to her crotch, over her clit and, eventually, slipped it right in her cunt.

“That feels goooood,” she said.  “Miss me?”

I was practically drooling as I looked at her.

She repeated her performance with another ice cube, delighting in my discomfort.

Then she took the remaining four or five ice cubes out of the cup and slipped them into her pussy.

“Do you want to play, Daddy?” she asked.

“Play what?” I queried.

“A game,” she said ambiguously.  She then crawled on all fours toward me and, when she got right between my legs as I sat in my lawn chair, she kneeled in front of me and put her elbows on my knees and looked up at me.  She said, “I missed you.”

It was nice to hear those words from her mouth.  But I shouldn’t have been fooled.  She was not being sweet, she was being sexy.  Just after the words I longed to hear dripped off her lips, the ice cubes she had been harboring inside her hot snatch dropped from her sopping pussy onto the grass.

“Whoops,” she said.  “I guess I’m not as tight as I used to be.”

“I’m interested in seeing our sleeping quarters,” I said to her.

“Oh, Daddy, you’re in such a rush.  Let’s enjoy the weather while it’s still sunny out.”  She could see my raging hard-on through my shorts and she said, “I’ll make it all up to you later.”

“I’m not going to enjoy anything until I hear about your time here.”

She knew what I meant by hearing about her time.  Our special pillow talk.

“Oh, Daddy, it’s been so much fun!” she almost squealed.  “I wish we could go back and do everything again with you!”

“What did you do?”

“You’ll hear all about it tonight.  But right now, let’s make some new memories together.”

She got up and Suzanne called us to join the others to eat.  Lola and Lily put on some skimpy shreds of fabric and we headed up for a late lunch.

They had grilled out on the deck and I was famished.

As we sat around the table in the backyard, I tried to tamp down how much I despised Collin and did my best to avoid the flirtations that I perceived from Suzanne.

“It’s too bad you couldn’t join us, H,” said Collin in his booming voice that made everything he said sound like a brag.  “You would have really enjoyed it.  I think the girls did.”

“The girls?” I thought.  Such a chauvinist.  Where was Lo’s feminist streak?  I guess it washed off in the lake or she shed it while streaking around the back yard.

“But don’t think I spoiled them,” he continued.  “Oh no.  I made them work for their room and board.  I think Lo might have even developed blisters on her hands from the effort.”

“Is that so?” I asked, turning to Lo.  “Let me see the palms of those delicate hands.”

Lo showed me her hands and said, “I had to tug and squeeze and pull and yank, just to get a little bit of cream.  But the taste was sooooo rich and sweet that it was totally worth it.”

“Did you churn it as well?” I asked, playing along with her.

“I sure did.  I churned it until all that cream turned to butter.”

“I bet you did.  Golden, sweet butter.  I can’t wait to taste it.”

“And my peach?!”

“Peaches,” I corrected her.  “You picked more than one, didn’t you?”

“There’s only one worth having,” she said.  “But did I say peach?  I meant, nectarine.”

Collin served up the burgers, steak, veggie kabobs, and Suzanne brought out the salad and more drinks.

“Isn’t he a darling?” asked Suzanne to Lola with reference to me.  She had a barely perceptible southern drawl that came out more pronounced in her question.

“I see now,” said Lo, “he is just the darlingest darling.”  Her voice was conveying a lot of latent content, most of it hostile to both me and Suzanne.

Suzanne was fluttering around, clearly trying to impress in what was basically her lingerie as she attended to Jim and me.  After five days of being a recluse in her room, suddenly Suzanne was eager be the life of the party.  She vigorously mixed our martinis in the shaker above her head like a bartender straight out of Cowboy Ugly.  She bent over to pour out the drinks into the fancy, handmade, delicate glasses.  She strutted her stuff in heels across the slate floor and generally put on a Lola-worthy performance.  It afforded me a glimpse into the life of Lola in twenty years (when I’m either dead or in the old-age home).

She had been friendly, in a cordial way, to Lo and Lily, but now she was flirty, vivacious, and playing the role of the vixen.

Collin watched with a just perceptible look of perturbance on his face.  Not outright scorn or contempt, but a subtle disapproval of her behavior.  Who was he, though, to call her out?

After a few drinks, I stopped avoiding the unwelcome attention of Suzanne and began to  enjoy it to the exact degree that it annoyed Lola to witness.  And the more I displayed my pleasure at Suzanne’s doting over me, the more Lola was visibly disturbed by the spectacle.

Jim was only slightly less distraught than Lo due to Suzanne’s uninvited flirtation.  Lily paid her no mind, as if Suzanne was merely a summer fly that had to be tolerated, but couldn’t ruin all the other benefits of the great outdoors.  We sat around the deck sipping our drinks in the afternoon sun, which made the already potent concoctions even more powerful.  I was pacing myself, but I noticed that for every drink the rest of us downed, Suzanne had pounded two.

Soon afternoon had turned to early evening and Collin lit the fire pit.

It was as if a switch had flipped in Suzanne’s head and without warning her hospitality and flirtation transposed into hostility and vindictiveness, aimed mostly at Collin.

“What do you think, Collin,” she taunted with spite, “should I take H here on a trip to the hotel?  Strip him down naked, and enjoy some eye-candy?  Would you like that?  Maybe he would like this?” she said, rubbing her hands over her hips.  What had seemed charming and attractive just a little while ago, now, with the admixture of too much alcohol, appeared to me rather disgraceful and repugnant.

For the first time since I met him, Collin was visibly uncomfortable, not in control of the situation, and at a loss.

“That’s enough of that,” he said to Suzanne, feigning power, but revealing fear.  “Tell me, H, of this big case that kept you away this week,” he said to me, trying to steer our attention away from his wayward wife.

“Yes, H, tell us,” Suzanne said, stealing the spotlight again.  “Did you press your point hard?  I bet you have such an interesting job.  Not just vicariously getting animals to live your life for you.”

I let out a nervous laugh and said, “It’s actually quite boring.”

“Boring?!” squealed Lo.

“Of course, I don’t mean you.  I mean work.”

“See, Collin, how he adores her?” Suzanne tossed in his face.

“That’s enough,” began Collin.

“And he doesn’t even hold it against her that she’s a little slut for you.”

“Hey,” I said, feeling like I needed to come to the defense of Lola despite the fact that we’ve never before regarded the S-word as a slur.  But between us it isn’t meant as an insult.
“No, no,” said Collin, “let her talk.  Let her show you who and what she really is.”

Now it was getting very tense at the table and Lo, always the social lubricant, interrupted it to say she’d help clear the dishes.  She got up and grabbed a few plates from in front of us and sashayed toward the house.

“Can I get anyone anything while I’m up?” she asked over her shoulder.

Collin was busy staring down Suzanne.  Suzanne was busy staring at me.  Jim was suggesting to Lily that they go to bed and Lily excused herself to help Lola.  What an uncomfortable set of sexually frustrated friends.

“Collin, did you know that HH is a scholar of art history?” Lily asked, interrupting the thick silence.

“No, no I didn’t.  I thought he was a lawyer.”

“People can be more than one thing,” said Suzanne.

“Would you like to show him your art collection?” suggested Lily.

“An excellent idea,” said Collin, clearly eager to get out of the close quarters of the dining area turned battlefield and eager to show off more of his monetary prowess.

He took me by the arm and began showing me various second-rate paintings and sculptures that he had acquired over the years and haphazardly arranged around the house.  None of it was worth a quarter of what he had paid for it, I’m sure.

When we were done with our little tour, he led us back to the living room where Lo and Lily were whispering something.

It was set up like a little conversation pit with a fireplace and round leather couches.  When we got there, Suzanne followed with the two dogs in tow.  She started teasing them and roughhousing with them until she was on all fours and they were nipping at her playfully, yipping and yapping.

“These two,” she said, “have been so jealous for my attention ever since you arrived.”

“Suzanne!” called Collin.  “Please!”

“They are so jealous.  They can’t stand to have other males in the house.”

“Stop it!”

“Well, except for Collin, of course.  But he doesn’t count.”

The dogs were jumping, getting behind her and lifting their front paws.

“That’s why they’re so frisky,” she laughed.

“SUZANNE!!!” yelled Collin.  This time Suzanne, clearly inebriated, merely laughed hysterically at the playful pets.

Just then there was a startling CRASH from behind us.

Suzanne & Bandit

Asses Up

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3

[The mini-series “Mount Bliss” continues from “Dutiful Niece.”  We apologize for any delay and concern that the delay may have caused. Working on being more consistent content creators.]

“I don’t think this is a story I can tell,” I said to Lo as we were driving back home from the bizarre weekend in the mountains with Lily, Jim, Lily’s Uncle Collin and Aunt Suzanne.

“It sure did get weird fast,” she remarked, looking with a vacant stare out the window as the scenery streaked by.

“The whole thing was weird,” I remarked.

“That’s true,” she said, “but it got even more so once you got there.”

A little background may be in order here, dear reader.  Lily and Jim are our very good friends from home.  They’re married.  Lily is Lo’s age and of her same temperament.  Jim is slightly older, with a few hang-ups.  Lily’s Uncle Collin had invited the four of us up to his lake house in the mountains for a week but, due to our work schedules, only Lily and Lo could join him for the first five days.  During that time, Collin hit hard on Lo and Lo lapped it up, returning his advances with explicit flirtations.  Lily, during this whole extramarital exchange, reassured Lo that Uncle Collin and Aunt Suzanne “had an understanding” and that it was fine.

Because Uncle Collin and Aunt Suzanne have separate bedrooms and the former sleeps alone and the latter with her two dogs, the night before Jim and I were to arrive, Lo finally “slept” with Uncle Collin.  But it literally was just sleeping together because, as she found out that night, Uncle Collin, virile as he is, he is also impotent and suffers from E.D. due to an accident that injured his spine two decades ago.

The next morning, when Lo confronted Lily about this, it was revealed that Lily was a coconspirator with Uncle Collin to help him gave the female companionship he so long to enjoy with Lo.  But, not only that, it turned out that Lo was only the latest in a long string of sexy young friends whom Lily had enticed to spend “quality time” with Uncle Collin.

Saturday morning, Jim and I were headed straight for the eye of this swirling sordid affair.

Just to add even more spice to the already simmering pot, he and I were hard-up from a long five days apart from our respective hotwives and I had just come off of a terrible week, losing my big case that Friday.

I was so wrapped up in my own need to reconnect with Lo and my own dark and stormy cloud from the past week, that I hadn’t even put thought to how horny Lo would be, or Lily for that matter.  The last I had heard, Lo, Lily, and Collin had gone to a resort on Thursday and so I had no idea that Lo wasn’t getting her fill of good fucks by Uncle Collin there.  But I had heard from my reliable informant about Lily’s big reveal that she adheres to the ‘A.O.L.’  (Anal Only Lifestyle.)  A fascinating little tidbit of knowledge that had piqued my curiosity.

After we stopped for coffee and a quick breakfast sandwich at a highway rest stop, we were on the road for a good couple of hours.  Once we were a good distance outside the city, as the sun was burning off the morning mist, we saw some horses over in the field on the side of the road.

“You remember last time we all saw Uncle Collin?” asked Jim, slightly bemused by the horses.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Remember what we did?”

“You mean the candle lit therapy session?”

“No,” he said, snapping out of it.  “I mean the breeding farm he took us to.”

“Oh yeah, for his ‘prized stallion,’” I said, a little snarky.

“Yeah,” said Jim.  “Lo was really fascinated by that,” he remarked.  Clearly the experience had stuck with him.

“She’s a size queen,” I blurted out as a half joke, but immediately regretted it when I recalled Jim’s own diminutive size.

He turned to look at me with a quizzical expression.  “Then why does she like me?” he asked, genuinely.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that she both pities him and also loves to tease, so I said simply, “She thinks you’re cute.”

He let it drop and resumed his original line of questioning.  “So being a ‘size queen’ extends to other species?” he asked, getting to the point.

“To be honest, I think she’s just mesmerized by cock.  All cock.  She enjoys the power she exerts over it.  The power to make it hard, to make it cum, to put someone under her power of seduction.  It’s a power trip to her.  And part of that power trip is also the power that she feels by knowing she can take something so incredibly large.  Call it ‘the power of the puss’ if you want,” I said, laughing to myself about the turn of phrase.

All Cocks

“Has she ever. . .” began Jim, not able to even ask the question.

“Is this our turnoff?” I asked, evading his question.

He looked at his phone to check the map and he said, “The girls are asking if we will be eating breakfast with them.”

“When will we get there?”

“E.T.A. is about 11:00,” he said.

“Let’s plan on lunch.”

“Turn here,” he said.

As I got in the right lane, I saw the sign that read, “EXIT ONLY.”  It made me think of a woman I once knew who was adamantly anti-anal sex and remarked to me, “That is an exit only orifice.”  I chuckled to myself and thought of what a dirty old man I am and how Lily’s “Anal Only Lifestyle” is not a turnoff, but a real turn-on for me.

“Did our session by candlelight help you and Lily?” I asked, venturing into a topic he hadn’t revisited with me since that fateful night.  I suspect he had “confessor’s remorse” after admitting that he didn’t know how to fully please her.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, did you two talk about bringing a bull into the relationship or a little BDSM?”

“It’s more complicated than that.  She’s different than you think.”

“How so?”

“I mean, you know that, like you two, we’re in an open relationship.”

“Yeah.”

“But, unlike Lo she. . . .”  He trailed off.

“Jim we’ve known each other a long time.  You’ve been with Lo.  Lily has been forthright and open with us.  There’s nothing you should feel inhibited from telling me.  I hate to pull this card, but I’m older.  Maybe I have some sage advice.”

“Lily has a Catholic girl hang-up about sex,” he finally blurted out.

“What?!  Other than Lo, she’s one of the most openminded people I know.”

“It’s true.  She’s never had sex.  We’ve never had sex, properly.”

“OK, now I know you’re putting me on.”

“I wish it was a joke, but it’s not.  She grew up being told that sex is wrong, sex is bad, and girls who engage in sex are doomed to Hell.”

“But they only say that about fornication – sex outside of the marriage.”

“Well, that’s how she got started before marriage and, I guess, she still likes it that way.”

“How do you feel about that?” I ventured to ask, fully aware that I was treading over delicate, as if hiking along a cliff that could fall through at any moment.

It was as if a switch went off in his mind.  This normally mild-mannered, easy-going guy became enraged.  “I fucking hate it!” he blurted out.  “It’s so fucking dumb.  We’ve been married almost a year now and every fucking time I want to fuck her, she flips over on her belly and sticks her ass in the air, spreads her ass cheeks and says, ‘I’m ready for you now.’  What the fuck?!  Why can’t we just have real, loving intercourse?”  He punched the glove compartment.

“Hey, take it easy,” I said, concerned about the damage he was doing to my car and that he’d set off the airbag.

“Sorry, but this has been frustrating me since. . . well, since forever.”

“Have you talked with her about it?”

“Of course I have.”

I felt stupid even asking him, since he was so abrupt with his reply.

“I’m sorry, H, but. . .”

“I understand, Jim.  You and I, we’re both frustrated.  We haven’t seen Lo or Lily in five days and. . .”

“Yeah, how are you doing with that?” he interrupted to ask.

“With what?”

“With her being around Uncle Collin?”

“Whatever,” I said, dismissively and disingenuously since that thought had been consuming me for days now.

“I forgot, you don’t get jealous about her fucking other guys,” he said, as if bating me.

“As long as she’s honest about it,” I said, continuing to dissemble.

Soon we were pulling down a long dirt road leading to the cottage.

“I’ll text Lily that we’ll be there in a minute.”

“OK,” I said, feeling tense with no appetite other than for Lo.

We pulled up to the circular driveway in front of the picturesque villa.  I parked the car and Jim, who had been there before, let me around back to the deck where the girls and Collin and Suzanne, as well as the two dogs, were relaxing.

Lo and Lily were both naked as they day they were born.  They got up, their tits swinging and jiggling, their asses looking sweetly tanned, their unabashed display of their bodies admirable.  I saw how Collin watched Lo and his niece greet us as we appeared on the deck.  His eyes carefully watched ever move, every gesture, every subtle sign, deciphering its meaning and adducing the nature of the relationship.  He was a limp snake in the grass.  But, mind you, at that point, I still was in the dark as to what had transpired between him and Lo.

I wanted nothing more at that moment than to sweep Lo off of her bare feet and bring her to the bedroom (or the kitchen, or the bathroom, or really anywhere, even right there!) and discover all her stories while plumbing her depths with my philosophically penetrating apparatus.

Sun Shower

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[The mini-series “Mount Bliss” continues from “A Brush with the Little Death.”]

Friday morning and Lo woke up in Lily’s arms, the sheets wet, her hairbrush buried under the covers.

Collin was already up, sitting in the chair next to the bed, drinking his coffee and reading the complimentary paper.

When he saw Lo’s eyes lock with his, a big, broad smile illuminated his face and he winked at her.

Lo carefully extricated herself from Lily’s arm draped over her breasts.  She snuck into the bathroom quietly, so as not to wake the angelic Lily.

She took a shower and while she was in there, suddenly, startling her, out of the fog entered Lily.

“Don’t worry, Lo,” she said, “I just thought we could be quicker this way.”  Lily got in the shower with Lo and the two of them soaped each other up.

“Sorry about last night,” said Lo.

Lily just snickered a bit before saying, “It was hot.”

“And wet,” added Lo, also laughing now.

“So wet!”

Lo was simultaneously embarrassed and proud of her accomplishment.

“Do you think Collin heard,” Lo asked.

“So what if he did,” replied Lily.

They rinsed off and dried each other off before entering the main room to get dressed.  Collin remained in the chair and watched them, bemused.

“Hungry girls?” he asked, ambiguously.

“So hungry,” said Lo, pulling her pink panties up.

“Mmmmm,” moaned Lily, putting on her bra.  “I can’t wait for breakfast!”

The trio went down to the restaurant and ordered up a storm.  While they were sitting there, Lo spotted her admirer from the previous day sitting at a table with his wife.  They waived at her.  She waived back.

“We’ll probably see him again at the pool today,” remarked Collin to the girls.

“What time is check-out?” asked Lily.

“One,” answered Collin.

From breakfast, they went right to the pool area.  There was no need to stop back up at the room because they could just remove their shorts, tops, panties, and bras for a quick dip.  That’s exactly what they did, though Collin remained dressed in his jeans and short sleeve shirt.  When Lo and Lily were in the pool, Lo again inquired, “What is up with your uncle?”

“What do you mean?” asked Lily.

“He hasn’t made a pass at me this entire time.  Not yesterday at the pool.  Not last night when I showed him how smooth my puss was after shaving.  Not this morning.”

“Are you trying to seduce him?” asked Lily with an air of faux judgment.

“I usually don’t have to try,” replied Lo.

“I think he just enjoys our company,” said Lily.

Lo wasn’t buying it.

When the two of them returned to the lounge chairs to tan, a number of men, many whom Lo had danced with the previous night, approached to ask permission to fool around with them.  Lo and Lily turned them all down, except one.  The married guy Lo had flirted with at the pool the day before.

“Do you have a condom?” asked Lo.

“Yes,” he said.

“Put it on,” she said.

He went back to the table where his wife was sitting and reached into her bag.  He returned with the condom.  Because he wasn’t hard yet, he asked Lo if she would mind putting it on him.

She obliged, fondling his balls and stroking his cock.  He grew hard quickly in her hand.  She was lying naked and he stood at her side.  When he was rigid, she opened the condom package and slid it on his rod.  He might have thought something else was going to happen, but Lo only stroked him over the condom as he looked at her.  She used her left hand to fondle herself and, occasionally, she looked up at him with an open mouth as if he would or could cum in it.  She knew he was about to blow and so she grabbed his member firmly in her palm and told him to cum.  She could see him cumming in the condom, filling it up with his jizz.  When he was done, he had to sit down in the chair next to Lo.

“That was amazing,” he said to her with much appreciation.

Lo looked at his middle-aged wife across the pool.  She seemed not to care.

After the man left, Lo looked at Collin, trying to discern something from his face, but all she drew was a blank.  He clearly had watched her, but what did it do for him?  She looked at his crotch.  It was big and full, as usual, but not displaying a raging hard-on, as she expected.

Lo turned over onto her tum.  She pulled out her old trick from high school.  “Collin, would you put some sunscreen on my back?” she asked.

Collin got up, put the lotion in his palm, and began applying to Lo’s shoulders.

“Lower,” she instructed.

He applied it to her back.

“Lower.”

He applied it to her lower back.

“Lower,” she said slowly.

He applied it to the dimples by her kidneys.

“Low-er,” she said even slower.

He applied it to the top of her ass.

Lo’s Ass

“Lowwww-er,” she said with a moan of pleasure.

He applied it to her ass cheeks.

She then raised her ass like a little inchworm to expose everything to the bright light of the sun, thus requiring it to get some lotion applied to it.

“Yeah,” said Lo, as Collins big hands ran between her legs, “that’s it.”

Finally getting the touch and attention she craved, she felt something welling up inside her.

“That’s enough,” she said abruptly.

Collin stopped.

Lo turned over and squeezed her legs together.

Oh shit!  Oh shit!  Why can’t I control this?!

She gushed from her pussy onto the lounge chair, causing it to rain onto the hot concrete beneath her.  Collin and Lily saw.  Lo was mortified.

“It happens sometimes,” said Lo, turning very very red in her face and on her chest.

She walked over to the showers and got under them, looking around to see if anyone saw what had just happened.

Soon the trio got dressed and packed up to leave the resort.