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“J.O.I. de Vivre”

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Uh Oh, someone got busted looking at Lo’s tits while working from home!

 

For those few of you who might not know, “J.O.I.” stands for “Jerk Off Instructions.”  It’s a rather popular form of porn that has been part of intimate bedroom play for as long as there have been masturbators and  those who love to instruct them.  Lola has engaged in this special type of kink for a long time now – telling her friends and fans exactly how she wants them to cum to her, remotely or in person.  During the COVID lockdown, this became one of her favorite ways of getting herself off safely.

You also may recall our newlywed couple, Jane and Andrew, who discovered each other’s kinks on their wedding night.  Turns out Jane’s kink was reading Match, Cinder & Spark while denying Andrew and Andrew’s kink was wearing women’s lingerie while being denied by his bride. 

I’m happy to report that they found a way for them both to get off, using the tertium quid of Lola.

“Lola, Andrew has two work-from-home days next week.  Please tell us instructions for his torment,” wrote Jane.

“When he works from home, is he on Zoom?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, he should only be dressed from his waist up.  You should hang my photos all over the house.  Whenever he gets up – to get a coffee, to eat lunch – and walks past my photo, he must stroke until he is good and hard.  But he may not cum.  Take photos of it.”

“Excellent.  And on the second day?”

“On the second day, same, but at the end of the day you will stroke his hard cock to my photos and this time he is allowed to cum, but only by means of your touch.”

“Thank you, Lola!  You have no idea what this means to us!!!”

Lola sent them select photos for them to print out and frame.  Here are the results.

You should try this at home too and send Lo the results!

Baad Kiity!

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[WARNING: This post contains magical realism!]

Baad Kiity plays with her pussy while reading about Lola Down

 

It was a beautiful sunny summer morning.  Lola and I stepped out to go for a Sunday stroll when, out of nowhere, a black cat strutted down the street, right up to Lola’s feet, laid on its back, and practically demanded that Lola pet its belly.

Lola “pets the cat”

“You know that cat?” I asked, surprised by the forwardness of this feline.

“No,” said Lola as she crouched down to indulge the cat’s demand.

“Then why are you petting it?”

“A neglected pussy is a sad pussy,” she said.  She has a way with pithy phrases.  “Can we keep her?”

“What?  No.  That’s a feral cat.  Who knows where it’s been?  Who knows what diseases it carries?”

“Awe, come on Daddio.  Please.”

“No.  It’s an outdoor cat and outdoor cats belong outdoors.”

“I want to make her an indoor cat.”

“You can’t make an outdoor cat an indoor cat.”

“Yes you can, people do it all the time.”

“But why would you?”

“You know that being an outdoor cat takes like seven years off the cat’s life.”

“I’d much rather be an outdoor cat, free, than stuck inside, lying around all day, looking out the windows longingly.”

“You’d love to be an indoor cat and just lie around all day.”

“I couldn’t type with paws.”

“You’d have a little cat book you would read.”

“Well, maybe if it had pictures of pussies.”

Lola laughed at my one-track mind and she eventually got up and we left the cat to go for our walk.  We really thought nothing more of it.

Along our saunter through the sanguine streets of our neighborhood, we ran into a neighbor who made polite conversation with us.  At one point he turned to Lola and asked if she was still working from home.  Lola replied in the affirmative and proceeded to tell the neighbor about her routine.

“I wake up, pet the cat, have some coffee and then hop on Zoom.  I often try to interrupt the monotony throughout the day.  It’s far too easy to work straight through, so I put on my schedule a number of breaks for me to get off.  Pet the cat, take care of business, get all the tension out through a hysterical paroxysm.”

As we walked away from the confused interlocutor, I said to Lola, “Well, that was a new one.”

“What?  I’ve been saying hysterical paroxysm for years.  It’s an old-timey expression that not too many people know the meaning of.”

“I didn’t mean that, though he certainly either was ignorant of it or thought you must have made a malapropism.  I meant, ‘pet the cat.’”

“Oh, well, our little encounter made me think of that.”

“He knows we don’t have a cat.”

“Does he?  Well, I can pet the cat anyway.  I just did this morning.”

Now I was confused.  Did she mean she masturbated this morning or that she pet the stray cat we met this morning?  Probably both.  I let it drop.

When we got home, Lola hopped into bed and slid her panties down to her ankles and then over her feet and then to her toes before finally discarding them altogether.  “Fuck me Daddy,” she said, spreading her legs wide and lifting her skirt.  She smacked her pussy lips.

Lo “pets the cat”

“Not now, Darling,” I said, “later.”

“Why not now and later?”

“Why don’t you amuse yourself.  Pet the cat,” I said.  “I’m going to read for a bit.”

Imposters

I sat down in the cool living room, the windows open and a gentle cross-breeze blowing through the room.  It was delightful.  I got through about a page of the book by Joanna Bourke I had recently purchased when I heard Lo calling out from the bedroom, “Bad kitty!  Bad Kitty!” as she slapped her pussy harder and harder.  I could hear the wetness between her legs splashing with each slap of her open palm.  “Baad Kiity!” she moaned.

Baad Kiity

Suddenly, out of nowhere, on the bed, was the black cat we had seen earlier.

“What the fuck?!” cried Lo in astonishment.

Baad Kiity

Lo was in a uniquely vulnerable position and the feline was staring down her juicy crotch.  It peered up over her mons pubis and looked with its cat’s eyes at Lo.  It took two steps forward and Lo prepared herself for a full-frontal attack when suddenly the cat transmogrified into what appeared to be a sexy Cat Woman.  She wore a black leather mask with little cat ears and a matching red bra and panties.

Baad Kiity Clitty

“Who are you?” asked Lola in astonishment.

“I’m your Baad Kiity,” she said.

“Where did you come from?”

“I was by your front door this morning.  I’ve heard your howls in the night, in the day, basically all around the clock and I finally found you.  You spoke my magic name and here I am to lick your little clitty like I lap up a bowl of milk.”

Lola spread her legs and let Baad Kiity have at it.  She was instantly transported into another realm.

A few orgasms later and Lo, panting, struggling to stabilize her breath, asked, “Can I do anything for you?”

“Well, there is one thing I would like,” said Baad Kiity, licking Lo’s juices from her hands as if they were paws.

“Anything,” said Lo.

“Where I come from, I must content myself merely with my imagination.”

“Where do you come from?”

“That is not important.  What is important is I would very much like to have one of your books to amuse me when I play with my own Baad Kiity.”

“Which one?”

“Volume V: Shorter Shorts, please.”

Lo grabbed her copy from the shelf and gave it to the mysterious feline avatar.

“Thank you, Lo.  One sex superhero to another, I’m a big fan.”

And with that, the dark, stealthy, and sleek visitor sauntered out the bedroom, out the front door, and down the shadow-covered street, wearing merely a black bra, panties, and her black leather cat mask.  She carried the book with her.

Lo came from the bedroom, stark naked, and said, “Did you see that?!”

“I did,” I said, putting my book down.  “I think it may be best if we don’t talk of this to anyone.”

“Agreed,” said Lo.

[For more of the very fine, very feline Baad Kiity, check out her OnlyFans page here and here.]

Check her out!

Hind Hunting

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“Daddy, have me.”

“Get naked.”

“I’m naked, Daddy.  Have me.”

“Come here.”

She nuzzles up to me, putting her head and soft hair on my shoulder.  Her right hand reaches down for my hard cock.  She moves her head down toward it.  She opens her mouth and takes it in – wet, warm, soft, and loving.

She maneuvers to climb on top of me, straddle me, ride me.

“Hey, what’s the hurry?”

“I want it.”

“We got all night.”

“I want it in me, now.”

“Can’t we enjoy each other first?  A little stroll through the Garden of Good and Evil before going in for the kill?”

“Daddy,” she says as she lowers herself on my rod, “it needs it.  My pussy needs it.  My cunt needs to be filled.  I’m sorry.  Play with my titties,” she says as she bounces up and down.

I reach up and grab her breasts with both hands.

“Pull my nipples.”

I pull on them.

“Pinch them.  Pull them harder.  Make it hurt.”

I do as I am told.

“Pull them.  Really pull them.  Pull them down.  Make them sag.  Pull my nipples to my navel.”

I do as she says.  She moans a moan of pain and delight.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” she says after mere seconds.

“Lo, what were you looking at on your computer before coming to bed?”

She bites her bottom lip.  She’s not able to reply.  Her pussy squeezes me out and squirts like an overripe peach on the first bite.

Her fingers clutch my shoulders.  She lifts up her ass in the air.  She slides down my torso with her tongue out, licking up all she spilled on me in her exuberance.

She gets to my navel.  She pauses.  She falls asleep.

I push her gently onto the bed, sliding her off my still rock-hard cock.

“Lo,” I say, quietly, “Lo, I want you.”

From her dreamlike state she says, “Do whatever you want.”  She’s off to Never-Never Land.

I pull out a German porno mag from my nightstand drawer.  I open it up on her ass.  I compare her to Gili Sky, the porn star of the magazine’s centerfold.  I prefer Lola.  But the juxtaposition is nice.  I know Lola would prefer Gili and the three men Gili is with as well.

I try to jack it to the photos and Lo’s ass.  Lo’s ass looks too good to pass up.  I rub some lube on the tip and her target, take aim, and swoosh!  Direct hit.

Driving home the happy hunter, I lie down on her back and open the magazine and begin leafing through the pages, reading what I can in German.  It’s been a while.  Lo is motionless, soundless.  The lack of her longing for my donging diminishes my fervor.  I pull out.  As I do so, she says, almost from the depths of her depraved dream, “Al wanted some new photos.  Take some of me, Daddy.”

I’ve never seen a woman so eager for the camera and yet, so very very relaxed in front of it.

Lola and Gili Sky

I replace the book on her rear and snap a few for her long-distance lover.  Now I know what she was doing before coming to bed in a feeding frenzy.

Gili Sky Front, Lola Rear

The next day she wakes up chipper as can be.

“Sleep well, Darling?” I ask.

“Great!  You?”

“I wish I could say I slept hard.  But it’s more like I hardly slept because I was hard.”

“Awww, poor baby.  Didn’t you have me?”

“It’s not worth going into,” I say.  “You’ll read all about it anyway.”

“I hope so!”

“What’s for breakfast?” she asks, pulling at her nipples over the thin t-shirt she’s wearing.  “Wow!  My nips really hurt!  Kiss them better, Daddy.”

Lo in Lace

She lifts up her shirt and forces her breasts in my face.  I give them gentle kisses.

“Mmmmm,” she moans.  “Can I have you for breakfast?”

She drops to her knees in the middle of the kitchen, pulls down my pajama bottoms, and goes to town on my torpedo.

After she slurps down her morning smoothy, she gets up, wipes her mouth, and says, “Looks like a no pants, no panties, pussy party day at work for me!”

Deferred Desire

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Jane and Andrew

 

Jane and Andrew had just taken their wedding vows.  They celebrated with their friends and family.  They were both in their forties when they finally tied the knot.  After many failed relationships in the past for each of them, they were pleased to finally find each other.  They prided themselves on the fact that the cornerstone of their relationship was honesty.  They loved each other, they admired each other, and they desired each other.

But in the hotel on the night of their wedding, they discovered something about each other neither of them expected.

Andrew was eager to get Jane out of her white gown and get into her wet pussy.  Jane, you see, had been deferring the consummation of their love saying that, though not religious, she wished to wait until they were married before engaging in coitus.  Now that the fateful night had come, Andrew’s desire for his bride had reached its pinnacle.

He slowly unzipped the back of the dress and helped Jane out of it with care.  She wore a white satin bra, white panties, and lacey white thigh-high nylon stockings.  Nearly naked, she sat on the couch and pulled Andrew towards her.  He had already removed his tuxedo jacket, tie, and shirt.  As he stood in front of Jane, he removed his t-shirt.  She had already seen him topless before, but the smoothness of his chest, which lacked any hair, struck her as unusually feminine.  But then she unbuttoned the button on his tuxedo slacks and unzipped the fly, pulling the pants down past his pelvis.  She was shocked at what she saw!

Instead of boxers or tighty-whities, he was wearing a transparent, satin black thong!  His cock was pressed up against the see-through material, barely contained by the tiny triangular fabric, stretching it to almost the breaking point.

“Oh wow!” she said as her face was inches away from the contained cock.  She had never seen him nude before.  “Are these yours?”

“Whose else would they be?”

“Mine,” she said.

He laughed and said, “No, I didn’t sneak into your panty drawer.”

“So you went to the store to buy these special?”

“These and a lot more like them.”

“I see.”

She slid the pants all the way down to his ankles, revealing a second surprise.  He wasn’t wearing black socks, as she assumed.  He was wearing sheer lacey black thigh-high nylon stockings, almost identical to hers.  In their nylons, they were like yin and yang.

“Well, well, well,” she said, “what is this all about?”

“Do you like?” he asked her nervously.

“I do.  Just about anything kinky gets me wet,” she said seductively.

He was thrilled.  He had taken a real chance by dressing up like this under his wedding tux, but he had to know how she’d feel about his kinks.  All was going to plan.  He had suspected it would, but out of fear of rejection, ridicule, or even worse, indifference, he had not revealed this side of himself to her ever before.

“Shall you be Mistress’s little Sub-Boy?”

This question from her took him aback.  He had not thought this far along in the chess game.

“I am Mistress’s little Sub,” he said, furtively, fearful of the wrong answer.

“Go fetch Mistress’s bag,” she said to him.  He brought to her the large weekender bag she had in addition to her suitcase.

She reached in.  He had no idea what was next.  Out of the bag she pulled a paperback book – Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume IV: Sexy Shorts.  It had a drawing of a woman in tight blue shorts, bent over on the cover.

“Mistress likes to read,” she said.  “Make Mistress an ottoman so Mistress can put her feet up.”

He complied by getting on his knees on the floor and turning himself into a stool for her feet.  She sat in the comfortable chair and read while he dutifully demeaned himself to her will.  However, time went by and he began to wonder if any relief to the raging erection he had at the mere touch of her silken-clad feet was to come.

“Mistress,” he whimpered.

“Yes little Sub?”

“May I please smell your pussy?”

“Yes little Sub.”

She spread her legs and allowed him a good whiff of her cunt through her white satin panties.

“Mistress,” he asked again.

“Yes little Sub?”

“May I please kiss your ass?”

“Yes little Sub,” she said, turning over in her chair.

He kissed her ass.

“That is all,” she insisted, putting an end to his probing tongue.  “Mistress wishes to recline on the couch,” she added.  “Stand by me, little Sub, and allow me to amuse myself with your member while I continue reading my book.”

“Yes, Mistress,” replied Andrew, standing at attention, allowing himself to be used and fondled as plaything of her whim.

“Little Sub,” she said eventually.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Lick my clit.”

“Mistress?” he asked, taken aback by the request.

“You heard me.  Get on your knees and lick my clit as I read.  I have come to a particularly puissant passage and I wish to be stimulated orally.”

She spread her legs and allowed him to pull her panties to the side far enough for his mouth to make contact.  All the while she kept reading her book.

He got down between his mistress’s legs and began to lick politely, respectfully.

“Fuck my cunt with your tongue, damn it!  Make me cum.  Now!” she demanded.

He licked, sucked, flicked, and fucked her orally as best he could.

“Yes, that’s it – make your mistress moan!”

She came, and her cunt drizzled its joyful juices on the white leather couch causing a puddle under her ass.

“Mistress?” he asked once he had emerged from her love-spot.

“Yes little Sub?” she asked breathily.

“Will we ever consummate our love?”

“Little Sub, you have that long protrusion in your panties and I think that as punishment for that, you shall never be able to use it.”

Andrew’s erection grew powerfully in his panties as he contemplated the thought of ever desiring his wife, never satisfying her, never releasing his pent-up phallic powers.

She got up to pee and while she did, Andrew grabbed the book that was lying open to the page Jane had been reading.  It was a story called “Pound” and it had some very taboo imagery in it.

“What are you doing?” Jane demanded when she returned.

“Uh, um, reading Mistress.”

“Without permission?”

“I’m sorry, Mistress.”

She got on the couch across from him and used her feet to tease his cock as he read.

“Is this the story that brought you to an orgasm?” he asked.

“And if it is?” she replied superciliously.

“Well, then I suppose there are more kinks about you that I have yet to discover.”

“Isn’t that what love is all about – the slow reveal of each other’s depravity?”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“You would if you read more about H.H. and Lola.”

“Am I allowed to cum to her, or them?”

“Absolutely not!”

“But you are?” he asked.

“Mistress’s needs are not for you.  Mistress keeps her cunt off limits.  All her erotic experience is in the mind, in words, in the denial of the dissipation of your desire.  I shall keep you around as my obedient canine.  You shall obey your Mistress and never give in to the aching needs between your hind quarters.  You shall ever remain in a state of perpetual penile priapism.”

Andrew could not have found a better match for his masochistic longings for a sadistic matriarch to marry.

Introducing Elizabeth Wylde

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Elizabeth Wylde

“Lizzy, the book got returned,” Lola said as she sat on the couch, playing with her cooch.

I could hear Lizzy, that is, Elizabeth Wylde, on the other end of the phone let out a moan of disappointment.

“They won’t deliver to P.O. boxes.  What should we do?”

“Try this address,” said Lizzy, telling Lo where to have the book shipped.  “It’s my aunt and uncle’s house, but they won’t mind.”

Lo laughed.  “You sure?  What if they open it accidentally?”

Lizzy also laughed and said, “That would be a tough one to explain.”

About two weeks later the book, Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume IV: Sexy Shorts, arrived for Aunt and Uncle Wylde.  They didn’t open it, but they were curious.  They called Lizzy and she came over one Sunday to pick it up.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” asked Auntie Wylde.

“Nah, I know what it is.”

“What is it, Lizzy?”

“A book for work.”

“Work?” asked Uncle Wylde.

Now Lizzy got herself into it.  Lizzy’s work, you see, is sexy phone chat.

“Yes,” she responded, “work.”

“I thought you were out of work since the pandemic started,” inquired her aunt.

“I’ve picked up a job I can do out of the house.”

“Really?  And what is that?”

Lizzy had to think quick on her feet.  “Customer service. . . for BJs.  I make sure everyone gets what they want.”

“Oh, so I might get you next time a package is lost?”

“You might,” said Lizzy, laughing to herself.

“So, what is that?” asked her uncle, returning to the rectangular shaped package in Lizzy’s hands.

“Instruction manual.”

“Don’t they have that online?”

“Top secret.  The internet isn’t to be trusted,” said Lizzy.

Luckily, she managed to get out of that jam without opening the book in front of them.

She quickly drove home, stripped naked, hopped into bed, and opened up her literotically Lola paperback.

Just as she was about to feast upon the non-fiction fuckery, her work phone rang.  It was Henry, a regular client.  At his request, Lizzy told him exactly what she was up to.  He requested that she read to him.  She opened the book to the middle and began reading the story, “Home Entertainment.”  She had no idea what she was in for!  As the story progressed, Lizzy realized the taboo topic she had waded into and waded is the right word for she was very, very wet by this point.  She could hear Henry moaning on the other end of the line and soon enough both of them were climaxing together to the cadence of the chapter.

When she was done, she pulled out her laptop and added a line to her brief bio:

            Hi, I’m Elizabeth Wylde – a sexy, crazy, caring, fun-loving girl who provides erotic phone conversations.  I’m a sex addict who channels my issues through making explicit adult content.  I love being watched and turning people on, getting them hot, making them cum.  In some weird way it’s an exciting accomplishment just knowing that you blow a huge load or squirt by fantasizing about little ole me!  Give me a call for some sexy talk or, if you want, I’ll read you a taboo tale from Match, Cinder & Spark – my favorite collection of literary smut.

When she was done, her phone rang again.  It was Henry coming back for more.

 

HERE is Lizzy’s LINKTREE and a few fun photos too!

Lizzy Reads Match, Cinder & Spark

 

 

Lizzy and Lo

Cum to the photos, stay for the story.

A view from behind

Lizzy is waiting for your call.

Toon of Lizzy

The Real Deal

Lizzy is ready

toon time fap

toon time fap no panties

Don’t you want this ass?

This ass wants you!

Lizzy & Lo

Lizzy & Lo

Game Day Highlights

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It had a been a long time since Lola had seen the brothers from across the street – Roy and Gary.  Well, to be honest, she had “seen” them, but only seen them around the neighborhood.  A cordial wave hello while walking home or a polite smile if we passed them in the local supermarket was about all interaction she had had with them since she and Meri worked out their intricate plan to swap brothers for children.  That strategy worked to perfection.  Meri got to have a threesome with boys the age of her children and Lola, while taking care of the males of Meri’s household, got out of the tedious sex she had been having on a regular basis with Roy and Gary.  She had grown bored of being their pandemic call of booty.

They had reached out frequently, requesting use of Lo’s services or, at least, to service her holes.  But she had rebuffed them.  Eventually they got the message.  Things began to open up in the summer, post-vaccinations, and we imagine the boys went back to seeing their friends and girlfriends, then to college in the fall.

Omicron struck in December when the boys were back home for winter break and their over-protective mother shuttered them in the house once again.

Now it was January and both their colleges were having a delayed in-person start, opting instead for remote learning for the first two weeks of classes.  That meant the boys were home and caged in for another half month.

Knowing how much the brothers enjoy football and imagining how they must feel pent up in that house (in more ways than one), Lo reached out to their mother and asked if it would be ok for the boys to watch the playoffs at our house.  Of course, Lo only asked my permission – or rather, informed me of her arrangement – after the mother had agreed.  That mother loves Lo.  In her eyes, Lo can do no wrong.  If she only knew. . .

The brothers came over and from the moment Lo met them at the door, their lust for Lo was palpable.  Lo had no intention of falling back into the sibling cycle of sex again, but she simply cannot help herself from being seductive, salacious, and so very sexy.  Lo decided to get into the spirit of football by wearing knee-high striped socks with tight pink shorts and an oversized football jersey that she stole from my drawer.

For those of you who don’t know, the playoffs lasted three weekends in a row.  Each weekend consisted of at least two games.  The brothers were at our house, high-fiving, yelling, screaming, and generally displaying their over-the-top testosterone levels for all three weekends, multiple hours at a time.  Lo did nothing to relieve their tension.  Rather, she only made the tightly twisted libidinous drive that tugged at their testicles even more taut.

Over the course of many hours, I curiously observed the boys’ interactions with Lola as the football announcers called the play-by-play.  Though we were all watching the game on the TV, I couldn’t help but imagine that the commentary was about something else.  What follows are direct quotes (in italics) from the games in a highlight reel.

 

Announcer 1: Welcome to Sunday Night NFL All Access.  That stands for ‘Now Fucking Lola’ All Access.

Announcer 2: These players have been eyeing each other for weeks now.  There’s a lot of frustration in the room.  The strategy has to be for one to pound that front and the other to get penetration in the back. 

Announcer 1:  I couldn’t agree with you more.  He really has to open up that hole.

Announcer 2: Well, the game is underway and it is his first penetration and it’s really deep!

Announcer 1: Wow!  That’s a really big shot!

Announcer 2: No doubt, those two will hook up again.

Announcer 1: If this isn’t going to be a blow out, they will have to fill that gap.

Announcer 2: Look at that, an amazing turnaround.  He was able to punch it in!

Announcer 1: They’re in a position to tighten this thing up.

Announcer 2: Looks like he’s able to get back on top of it.

Announcer 1: And now they’re double teaming.

Announcer 2: It’s a touchback!

Announcer 1: Yes, they just swooped the back end.

Announcer 2: He’s going deep!

Announcer 1: Another nice hookup.

Announcer 2: Terrific ball skills.

Announcer 1: This is going to be a real contest.  It’s a match, blow-for-blow.

Announcer 2: But wait!  What’s this?  A fumble!  Sacks are great, but strip sacks are even better!

Announcer 1: Great ball placement.

Announcer 2: And on the first play, some razzle-dazzle Hollywood style!

Announcer 1: They’re just having their way now.

Announcer 2: Those are some uncanny ball skills.

Announcer 1: That’s about as hot as it gets.

Announcer 2: He has amazing hands.

Announcer 1: He is hot, especially in the red zone.

Announcer 2: He snuck it into the end zone!

Announcer 1: Looks like he spiked it!

Announcer 2: Another booming finish!!!

Lola’s team uniform

All this testosterone fueled banter, excitement, and physicality had spurred not only the brothers into a sexual frenzy, but also Lola.  By halftime of the last game, she wanted someone to score.  But Lola’s nature is to avoid zero-sum games.  She prefers when everyone wins.  In that spirit, she lined up all us people with penises on the couch, sitting facing forward and the TV.  I was in the middle and Gary and Roy were on my left and right, respectively.  Lo had all three of us pull our pants down around our ankles.  She was wearing her black, silk negligee and nothing else.  She got down on her knees and between each of our knees to fluff each of us up one at a time.  Then she gently, slowly descended her derrière down on my cock as her cunt was dripping with anticipation of finally being filled.

Securely seated on my lap, she reached out her left and right hands to grasp Gary and Roy by their uprights and, as she bopped and bounced on my pole like a cheerleader, she encouraged the brothers with her offensive holding.

Sure enough, first one, then the other reached the goal line.

Lo continued her halftime routine on me until she was able to coax me offsides into a neutral zone infraction.

She stood up, my ejaculate dripping down her inner thigh, and she looked at the three of us, spent and sidelined, and she said, “I just love full-contact sports.”

Lola’s Suited Up for the Big Game

Protected: Putting the “Fun” back in “Fundamentalism” – Part V: Divine Degradation

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Protected: Putting the Fun Back in “Fundamentalism” – Part II: Satan’s Scrivener

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