Tag Archives: Naked

“This is my body, given for you.”

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“What are those for?”
“These are for later.”

 

Lo is naked in bed.  “Come, Daddy.  Fuck me.”

“No, I’m writing.”

“Oh, please!!!!”

“Later.  Not now.”

“Then be a doll and fetch me a cucumber.”

I get her the vegetable from the kitchen and bring it to her in the bedroom.

“Now give me a condom.”

“Why?”

“You know what sort of stuff they put on this thing?  Insecticides, wax, who knows what!  Put a condom over any phallic-shaped object and you’re good to go.”

“Thanks for the free advice,” I say as I pull a condom out from my nightstand drawer.

“You’re welcome.”

I begin to leave the room.

“You sure you don’t want to get in on this?” she asks as she spreads her legs and puts the cucumber in her hole.”

“I’ll pass on the salad.  I haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

“Well, you’re missing out.  The dressing is homemade.”

I leave the room and return to my computer where I try to continue writing.  My thoughts are disturbed by the moans, groans, and then screams and sighs that I hear my little nymphet producing like a primitive mating call, signaling to all within earshot that she is eager for cock, or pussy, or something.  I believe I read about that as an actual scientific theory in the book Sex at Dawn.  Women are louder than men when it comes to sex because their sounds are an enticement for other men to fuck them, thus increasing the likelihood of fertilization.

Just a fun photo I found featuring Sex at Dawn

That morning I was able to prove the theory true through the scientific method of replication of results.  No sooner had Lola howled to the heavens about how filling and nutritionally valuable her ‘vagetable’ was, than there was a knocking at the door.

Annoyed, I get up from my computer, where I hadn’t been able to write more than a sentence, and I answer the door – Lola’s sex-singing still quite audible in the background.  Standing at the door is a FedEx delivery guy.  He seems to be in his fifties.  Old, tired, rundown.  However, he hears the post-self-coital cooing coming from the bedroom.

“I have a package for delivery.  It needs your signature.”

I look at the package.  I see Lo’s name on it.  “Oh, it’s not for me.  It’s for Lola,” I say, looking up at him.

“Whatever,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.  “I just need a signature.”

I’m feeling particularly wily that morning and so I insist that it be signed by Lola.

“Lo!” I call, “Oh Lo,” I repeat in a sing-song fashion.

“I’m busy!” I hear bellowing down the hall and I also just perceive the sound of her Hitachi Magic Wand buzzing in the background like a distant hedge trimmer.

“There’s a man here to see you,” I say in a loud voice.  I look at the delivery man and give him a knowing wink.

Lo comes stomping down the hallway, barefoot, naked, her inner thighs glistening with the glaze of her last orgasm, her breasts flailing from left to right with each deliberate footfall.

“What?  Who?”

She stands behind me and sees the delivery man.

“Signature, ma’am,” he says, unflustered.

Lo wedges herself in front of me and stands, stark naked in the doorway, grabbing the electronic signature board, scribbling her name and taking the package.

“It’s a big package” she says, not about what is in her hands, but about the delivery man.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says.

“You need something?” she asks.  “A drink?  You look parched.”

“No ma’am,” he says, so politely, “I must be going.”

“OK, too bad,” she says, licking her lips.

He turns and walks to his truck.

“What is that?” I ask Lo of the package.

“The latest from ErosettiPress.”

“Oh really?!” I say, excited.

“Yep,” she says, tearing open the package.

She pulls out the very handsome hardcover book: The Anthology of Erotic Narrative, Volume I: Fetish.  “Look!  Our story!”  She shows me the chapter, “Crisscross,” which includes a sexy illustration of Lola, on her back, as sushi is displayed upon her for a nyotaimori feast.

“Dante Remy, the editor, had to condense it from the original,” she adds by way of explanation.

“I frequently have that problem – too much length.”

“Not with me you don’t,” she says.  “Oh!  And look!  They even included a little blurb about us!”

She reads from the bio page:

 

H.H. & Lola, based in the US, push the boundaries of conventional relationships, captivating their readers and followers with their unapologetic exploration of desire and the endless possibilities of a love that knows no limits.  Their large erotic cult following includes tribute artwork and photos from readers, often displaying their books in explicit context.  These fan images and art are published along with the stories in their books, and on their active blog and social media presence.  They are at the center of a community of erotic art and expression.  You can engage with them on their blog site mysexlifewithlola.com and their X and Instagram social media.

 

“What do you think?” she asks me.

“You didn’t write that?” I ask her.

“No, silly!”

“Well, I like it.”  I take the book from her hands to read it over once again.  “I especially like the ‘unapologetic’ bit.”

“Yes, that describes you,” she said, not without a hint of irony.

“And the ‘large erotic cult following.’  That’s nice.”

“Yep – and true.”

“He says we are ‘the center of a community of erotic art and expression.’”

“Well, aren’t we?”

“I guess.  I just never thought of us like that.”

“I’ve thought of me like that,” she remarks.

“Of course you have.  Too bad we have since been banned from X and Instagram.  If the Marquis de Sade lived today, he wouldn’t be locked up in the Bastille, he’d be banished from social media!”

“You keep on having grandiose thoughts of you and Sade and the evil electronic geniuses aligned against you, I think I’ll go back to my regularly scheduled programming,” she says, taking the book and walking down the hall.

“Hey,” I call to her.

She stops and turns around.  “Yes?”
“What’s put you in this Saturday morning self-abuse mood?”

“Do I need a reason?”
“No, but you usually have one.”

“If you must know, I’ve been getting a lot of fan mail ever since we posted the interview with Hani Miletski.”

“Totally Taboo?”
“Yeah, that one.”

“What sort of fan mail?”

“Why don’t you cum and read it with me?  I mean, wait, reverse that.”

“Very funny.”

I follow her down the hall to the bedroom where she has the cucumber, her Hitachi, and her laptop all spread out over the bed.

She turns the computer screen toward me and shows me an image from a female fan.  It is of a young, mid-thirties woman, in bed, a towel wrapped around her hair as if she had just got out of the shower, with her two children, a girl and a boy, suckling at her breasts.  Above and behind her, on the wall, are mounted two framed paintings from the blog.  One of MILF Meri and her son, the other of Lola as a little girl with her panties over her head, standing naked and defiant.  Both artworks were made by our dear Ukrainian friend Sergii.

Pam at home breastfeeding with art by Sergii above her

“And who is this?” I ask.

“Her name is Pam and she’s a housewife raising twins – a boy and a girl.  She doesn’t believe in setting an age for ending breastfeeding.  She told me she’s inspired by Sophie Rose.”

“Who?”

“Oh, never mind.  It’s a movement to breastfeed kids later into life.”

“That’s a movement?”

“Yeah, but she’s on the fringes of that movement?”

“What’s that mean?”

“She is advocating for breastfeeding-self-care.”

“Now you’ve lost me.”

“She enjoys a wank-spank under the covers while the twins are latched onto her tits.”

“And that’s a movement?!”

“Well, not yet, but she is hoping to make it one.”

“You find all kinds,” I said in astonishment.

“It’s not all that uncommon,” remarked Lo, rather clinical about it.  “Pam discovered, like a lot of women who breastfeed, that it is or can be stimulating.  Sexually stimulating.  She got all tingly between her legs.  One day, at the airport no less, she was breastfeeding and, to her complete and utter surprise. . .”

“You mean udder surprise,” I suggest.

“Just full of wit this morning, aren’t ya, ole man?  She suddenly squirted, right out of the blue, right there in public!  She realized later that it was probably a combination of being sexually frustrated – she was going to see her husband who was stationed across the country for work – and the excitement of having her breasts exposed in public where she was getting a lot of stares.”

“Don’t they have special rooms for that?”

“I don’t know,” says Lo, returning the cucumber to its holster inside her as she places the Hitachi on her clit and looks at the photo again.  “But now she does it all the time.  She says it creates the most intense orgasms and bonding experience she’s ever felt.  Now she’s trying to spread the word.  That’s why she wrote to me.  When she saw the interview with Melitski, she thought that our blog would be a good way to publicize the masturlactation method, as she calls it.”

“A portmanteau of ‘masturbation’ and ‘lactation’ I assume?”

She is too fully engaged in her own masturbation to answer me.

Without looking at me, she simply says, “Suck my tits, Daddy.”

I comply, leaning over to latch onto her left breast while my right hand fondles and pulls on her right nipple.  She instantly climaxes – her clenching pussy shooting the cucumber straight out of her pussy like a torpedo!  That is followed by a tsunami of squirt.

“Holy FUCK!” she says, as she apparently surprised even herself.

“Feel better, Love?” I ask.

She laughs to herself.

“What?” I ask.

“As I was cumming, I had the weirdest thought.”

“What was that?” I ask, realizing that we have been in the realm of weird for quite some time.

“I wondered if all those millions of images of the Madonna and Child – you know, of the Virgin Mary and Jesus as an infant at her breast – I wondered if in all of them, if the Holy Mother is in the state of orgasmic bliss.  Isn’t that weird?  I mean, wouldn’t that be something?”

Mary and Baby Jesus

“Only you could have a theophany to put you over the edge.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to write.”

“What are you going to write?” she asks, skimming through images of the Madonna and Child.

“All about you.”

Caravaggio – Madonna and Child with St. Anne

Fan Photo

Hallucinatory Hijinks

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When Lola had returned from her Halloween party, dressed as slutty Princess Leia, she seemed coherent, cognizant, and eager to fill her cunt with my cock and cum.  Little did I know that she had eaten enough cannabis confections to outstrip an LSD trip of Grateful Dead proportions.

It was only the next day, when she groggily recounted to me the amazing journey she had taken in her mind and body, that I realized what her subjective sexperience was.

What I thought was happening the night Lola got home from the Halloween party. Art by RigsUsuallyHiddenDrawings

 

“I got home,” she said when she was more sober, “and I felt like I was a honey pot.  Or rather, that my pussy was a honey pot.  I was gushing and oozing, sloshing and dripping.”

“I can confirm that much was true.  I didn’t know at the time it was from so many men at the party finding release between your legs.”

She didn’t take offense at this, but corrected me, “And women.”

“Yes, and women.”

“And then,” she abruptly stopped.

“And then what?”

“It’s so weird!”

“What is?”

“Well, then it was as if I was copulating with. . .”

“With what?”

“With all sorts of insects – bees, hornets, spiders, worms, cockroaches, beetles, slugs – I mean, if it crawls, flies, or slithers, it was fucking me.”

“Formicophilia,” I said.

“Formi-wha?”
“Formicophilia.  It’s an unusual paraphilia.  The kink of having insects crawl on you.”

“But they weren’t crawling.  They were fucking me!  I was human.  It was interspecies sex!”

“It’s a variation on a theme.”

I caught her looking at me funny.  Staring at me.

“What?” I finally asked.

“Oh, Daddy, you know what,” she said.

“No, I don’t know what.”

“Those words.  You know how your vocabulary turns me on.  The fact that you had those words – formicophilia and paraphilia – on your tongue.  It make me want to be on your tongue.”

“Now?” I asked.

“Now.”

“Will you continue telling me your story?”

“Yes.”

Formicophilia Nymphs

She didn’t even get up to go to the bedroom.  Right here on the living room couch – the couch that looks out the front windows of our first floor apartment onto the street – she pulled down her panties, pulled off her shirt, and spread her legs.  She indicated that she wanted me to get on my knees in front of her and go to town with my chrysostom, my golden tongue.

I did exactly that as she continued to recall to me the stimulating horror of her drug-induced hallucinatory hijinks.

“Normally, you know, I’m creeped out by anything – a spider, a snake, even ants!  But in my visions, I wasn’t freaked out at all!  I was focused on the fact that all these creatures wanted me!  They were bursting with need.  They were on the verge of insanity with their hunger for me.  They had to copulate and I was the one and only focus if their intense sexual attraction.”

SLURP – SLOP – SPLUSH

That was the sound of me taking her in my mouth – sucking on her labia, licking up and in her slit, gently tickling her clit.

She continued as her hands held my head between her legs.

“Then the creatures morphed into unidentifiable organisms.  Aliens maybe? Squids? And then everything, everything I touched became a penis.  It was like. . .”

After that, I couldn’t hear what she was saying.  She squeezed her thighs together tightly and her legs covered my ears.  Good thing too, because she began screaming as her juices dribbled down my chin and her legs started to twitch.  She pressed my head down hard with her hands and then, just as surprisingly, pulled me off of her so that she could stroke her pussy with her hand as she squirted in my face.

That was the last I heard of her story.  I retrieved some paper towels to dry off and to clean up the puddle left on the hard-wood floor.

She simply laid back on the couch, relaxed, and dozed off.

 

 

 

Chimera (pt. 2)

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“What is happening?” asked Lo in her host’s ear.

“You saw the dessert table and, before I could stop you, you ate a large slice of cake.  More THC infused chocolate cake.  You had forgotten what I told you – all the sweets are full of pot!  You are going to be ok.  But things will seem weird for a while.”

Art by Jana Brike

Her voice was so gentle and calm that Lo felt transported out of her body to some ethereal place where she met the Brike.  The Brike are, according to Lola, small, beautiful, Alice-in-Wonderland-type creatures.  They are of no gender because there is only one gender.  At birth, they all look like girls.  They all have the same anatomy of girls, that is.  But when they begin to hit puberty, an odd thing happens to them – they develop tail-like structures at the top of their butt-crack, that is, right by their tailbone.  The growth begins as merely a small bump – like a wart or boil, or like their nipples just budding.  But then it continues to grow like a long flap of skin.  That’s how it is most of the time, but when these “girls” or creatures get sexually aroused, which is often, the flap of tail grows.  They get erections.  Their tails point in the air and then they copulate.  Usually one sits atop the back of the other, either cowgirl style or reverse cowgirl, letting the erect tail penetrate either the vagina or the anus.  The copulation is not for procreation purposes.  They procreate parthenogenically.  When they feel the need for reproduction, their “tail” grows to an enormous length – perhaps two feet in some – and enters their own vagina.  It is said to be the best sex they will ever experience.  The tail ejaculates and then, after a recovery period of about two hours, it is shed.  The “girl” goes back to being a-sexual as the baby gestates in her.  She dies in childbirth.  No exceptions.  The newborn Brike baby is then raised on Chimera Milk of the mystical Chimera Matron – a griffin sort or creature with four breasts hanging below that are ever-full and lactating.  Then the cycle begins again.

Art by Jana Brike

Lo was feeling not herself.

Gathering Griffin Milk

Tara recommended that Lo try some deep breathing exercises and a little meditation to ground her.  They sat on Tara’s bed, both naked, and as Lo looked at Tara, sitting in the lotus position, Tara transformed from the present-day host of a drug-infused kink party to a timeless goddess of Theravada or Tantric Buddhism.  She sat serenely in a landscape beyond time and space, infusing all living things with her beauty, grace, life, and love.

Tara

As Lo witnessed this, a change occurred in herself whereby she suddenly felt her entire being metamorphosize from flesh-and-blood into a porcelain statue.  She became timeless herself, but in a way that was beyond the vicissitudes of life.  She became still and immobile like stone.  Impervious to all things.  But, thereby, beyond pleasure and pain.  She did not like it.  She did not like it at all!

Mystical Tara

Lo as a statue, art by Boom Beach

She heard Tara speak to her, but without moving her lips.  It was mind-to-mind communication.  Tara encouragingly, sweetly whispered to her, “Let go of all illusions – of me, of yourself, of the world, of your mind.  Pleasure, pain, pure, impure, sacred, profane, divine, debased – these are all the same.”  The sound of her disembodied voice sparkled and glittered like the sound she heard before of the windchime in the breeze.

Fragile Lo, art by Boom Beach

Opening her eyes, she saw Tara suddenly split into many pieces that hovered in the air.  It was terrifying at first, but then Lo saw that this was just her illusion breaking apart.

Tara Goes to Pieces

The next thing she knew, she was being dropped off at home by Mr. Biggs, who, as she looked back at the car, appeared to be the fat, jolly Buddha known as Hotei, naked and cheerful behind the wheel.

Art of Lo and Tara by Rigs Usually Hidden Drawings

Chimeras

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Tara led the lion right up to Lo in the center of the circus.  Lo was lying in the muddy dirt of the center ring.  The entire floor of the circus was dirt, but now, where Lo was, it had turned to mud from the copious amount of cum ejaculated by the elephant that had just copulated with Lo.  The viscus, warm, white jizz had spilled out of Lo’s cunt and created a sloppy mess right where Lo was recovering from her dazzling display of big dick penetration.  The elephant put its trunk in a bucket of water nearby and sprayed Lo down, showering her affectionately.  Lo struggled to get to her feet as a new drama unfolded.

With the elephant, the audience was on the edge of their seats wondering if Lo could take the massive pink missile.  And they were ecstatic to see Lo mounted successfully.  But now there was an ominous sense of foreboding under the big tent as everyone held their collective breath wondering if the lion would also mount Lo or if it would eat her – and not in the good way!

Tara stood, holding her whip, ready to smack the lion back into submission, but there was no need.  Apparently this lion had been trained since early age to take women as trophy lionesses.  It approached Lo and quickly, without any feline foreplay, mounted and fucked Lo from behind.  The audience was silent this time, afraid that any loud, enthusiastic encouragement might scare the lion into destroying his mate.  When it had reached climax, Lo realized why a lion’s pack is called a “pride,” since anyone who can handle that cock has to be full of pride, as was Lo.  She was also full of a lot more than that and it was dripping all around her in the ring as Tara led the satisfied animal away and Lo was left standing in the spotlight, soaking in the love of the audience.

Lo and the Lion

As Lo stood, she realized that she had worked up an incredible appetite.  All she could think of was food.

“Cartoon characters get hungry, I guess,” she thought to herself.

She looked at Tara, who was now walking towards her and she said, “Can we eat something?  I’m starved!”

Tara laughed and with the sound of her laugh, which struck Lo’s ears like the gentle, magical and musical cadence of a windchime in a gentle breeze, Lo slowly emerged back into flesh-and-blood.

“Why don’t you put your phone down?” said Tara, as if talking to a child.

Lo looked in her hands and saw her phone open to the “Danger Girl Dating” app.

She was naked on the bed.

Tara helped her up and asked, “Do you want your clothes?”

Lo heard the question.  She understood it, but it was difficult for her to form words.  She simply shook her head, ‘No.’

Art of Lo by Rigs Usually Hidden Drawings

Tara slowly led Lo down the stairs.  Lo was walking on two feet this time, not like on the way up.  All the guests looked up at the secret agent girl leading the naked and high girl to the living room.

Art of Lo as Leia by Rigs Usually Hidden Drawings

“Sit here,” said Tara to her docile, amused little love doll, assisting her into the large, comfy chair.  “I’ll be right back.  I’m just going to grab you some snacks.”  Off went Tara on her mission to grab some of the diced cheese cubes, crackers, and a little sparkling water for Lo.

Art of Lo as Leia by Rigs Usually Hidden Drawings

Sitting in the chair, zoning out, Lo saw Mr. Biggs across the room talking to a woman who was as large as, if not larger than, he!  She was dressed as Mrs. Roper from ‘Three’s Company,’ wearing nothing but a muumuu.  He saw Lo out of the corner of his eye.  (Apparently, he didn’t see her as a nude descending a staircase.)  He brought his new friend over to Lo and introduced them.  Lo couldn’t stand up.  It was all she could do to lift her arm and limply shake the woman’s hand.

“Nice to meet you.”  Forming words was difficult.

The woman smiled, while looking deeply into Lo’s eyes.  Lo was looking at the woman’s eyes, thinking about the Beatle’s song, “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.”  All she heard in her head was “the girl with kaleidoscope eyes.”  The sound looped around in her brain again and again.

Tara returned with cheese and crackers and literally had to feed Lo because Lo was unable to feed herself without making crumbs that fell into her naked lap.

Mr. Biggs apparently enjoyed the “show.”  He was staring intently at the feeding of Lo by Tara.

Mrs. Roper noticed this and before Lo knew what was happening, she found herself atop the large woman who was kneeling on the floor, naked, and lapping up Lo’s labia with her mouth.

Lo gets eaten out at a party

Whatever was happening to her, or being done to her, by the large woman upon whom she sat like on a hopper ball or bouncy ball, in Lo’s mind the woman morphed into a giant Cephalopoda of some undefined sort.  She was slippery and filling every hole all at once.  Lo slipped back into the “Danger Girl Dating” app and back into her “Catnip” alter-ego.

Krakin

The next thing she recalled was voices, seemingly from all directions, asking, “Is it ok if I touch you?” “May I feel you?” “Do you consent to being fucked by me?”

Unclear

Tara appeared in her trench coat and beret and said, “She cannot consent.  She’s tripping her face off on the desserts.”

The next thing she knew, Lo was in the bathtub, filled to the brim, with Tara, transformed into a cartoon as well, lying on top of her and an octopus or squid or something with tentacles lying on top of Tara, filling both her holes and both Lo’s holes at once.  It felt delightful as Lo reached around to squeeze Tara’s breasts.

Lo and Tara in the bath.

“What is happening?” asked Lo in her host’s ear.

Circus Freak

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Lola at Party

Believe it or not, that’s when things began to get weird.  Lo was back at the pigsty, but instead of pigs, she was surrounded by circus animals.  It turned out that she, or her comic avatar, ‘Catnip,’ was to perform in the circus.  She did not know how she was to perform, but the ringmaster was barking orders at her.  Lo, who was on all fours in the slop, looked up and saw Tara dressed as the ringmaster – top hat, red sequin vest, red sequin pantsuit – and carrying a whip.

Tara

Tara was whipping Lo’s ass to get her out into the center ring.  Lo crawled on all fours, led by Mr. Biggs dressed as Jabba the Hutt.  In the center of the central ring of the large round tent was a circular stool or podium.  Biggs led Lo up onto the podium.  The crowd applauded loudly.  Lo was surrounded by hundreds of people – men, women, children – all eagerly anticipating the performance.  They seemed to know what was about to come, but Lo did not.

Tara Ringmaster

However, she got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when she saw over her shoulder Tara, the ringmaster, using her whip on the ass of a giant elephant, to get him out to where Lo was instructed to wait.

Tara Ringmistress

The crowd rose to their feet and screamed and hollered, eating popcorn and whooping it up.  The elephant was right behind Lo and, to her astonishment, getting very erect.  It put its front legs very gingerly on the stool and, incredibly gently, almost lovingly, nudged its enormous phallus up against Lo’s pussy.  It was so, dare I say, polite, that Lo found it endearing.  As scared as she was – and she was scared – she was also startled to find her inner thighs getting wet, and she could feel her pussy expanding to let in the massive elephantine cock.

Massive Cock Mount

The crowd wanted to see Lo bring the Brobdingnagian beast to a climax, but the prospect of this natural conclusion to the show terrified Lo because she had no prior experience of fornicating with any proboscidean lovers.  As she was contemplating this fact, she felt what could only be described as a cum cannon exploding between her legs.  She was thrust forward and felt a rocket-like boost shot aft.  A large white puddle collected around her knees and feet.  The crowd went crazy and Lo fell forward onto the muddy, dirt floor.  Looking up, she saw Tara ushering in a lion.

Danger Girl Dating

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Danger Girl Dating App

 

In case you haven’t caught on by now, recreational drugs are not really part of Lo’s life.  She much prefers a French Martini, a Negroni, or a simple flute of Champagne to any drugs.  She claims that anything besides alcohol makes her anxious and feel “weird,” not in a good way.  So the amount of marijuana chocolate she ingested was far in excess of anything she ever had before.  Not to mention that Tara’s concoctions were highly concentrated and potent.

After Lo found out that she had inadvertently been drugged, she asked for a little time to herself.  As she tells it, Mr. Biggs and Tara both left her in Tara’s bedroom.  She took out her phone and called me, saying, “Daddy, I want more.”

I answered, “More what, Lo?”

She said that she wanted to go on a dating app and be in the dating scene again.

According to her, I said, “Lola, it’s a jungle out there.”  I warned her that people hooking up on the dating sites are animals.  But she was insistent.  She said she wanted to discover new things and she had found an app called “Danger Girl Dating.”  She downloaded it and created a profile, all while high as a kite.

Lo Left, Danger Girls center

Soon she was swiping left and swiping right, clicking ‘like’ and shooting heart emojis to men, women, and whomever.  But something stopped her in her tracks.

She suddenly found herself in the app.  I mean, in the app.

“Daddy,” she called to me, “I’ve been turned into a cartoon!”

Cartoon Lola

In the app, her cartoon avatar was named ‘Catnip.’

On her first ‘date’ she found herself dressed as a bride – I mean, if you call wearing a white veil, thigh-high white nylons, and long white gloves ‘dressed.’  She was leashed to a giant pig!  She quickly ascertained that she was betrothed to the pig and everyone she knew was attending the wedding!

Lola getting married

There was no escaping because the leash to which she was attached to the pig was fastened around her neck with a steel collar.

Apparently, I was the officiating heresiarch and after I pronounced them hog and wife, Lola was mounted by the pink, pot-bellied, cloven beast and fucked before the reception party! The pig got Lo on her back and went to town.  This pig was no Wilbur of Charlotte’s Web fame.  No, the hog Lo found in this interweb was far too heavy for her and she felt like she was going to die under the weight.

Talented pig

Suddenly, all the people at the reception also turned to pigs!  They were looking at Lola like they hadn’t mated in a year and she was, well, raw meat.  Each one wanted a go with her.  She was scared.  She could hardly handle her ‘husband’ pig.

Lola missionary style

Each boar had his way with her and Lo wished she had swiped right on a horse, dog, or goat instead of a pig.

Fresh Meat

At one point, Lo opened her eyes and saw that Mr. Bigg was sitting in a chair, pud in hand, Tara and a host of party guests were around the bed as naked Lo was holding her phone in one hand and diddling her bean with the other.

What could these pigs want?

Lo got up off the bed and crawled around on all fours like a pig or dog, her head waist high with the guests.  One of them called out, “What is that?” pointing at Lo’s bare bottom.

Tara approached Lo and said, “Um, looks like Mr. Biggs’ condom fell off inside you.”

Sure enough, there was a partially full condom dangling from Lo’s slit, hanging on like a hero of an action movie.  Lo reached back and found the condom.  She pulled it out of her twat and sniffed it.  Suddenly she was transported back to the sty with the pigs where she crawled naked through the mud and slop.

Marry in haste, repent at leisure.

Food for Thought

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The next morning the sun was streaming in the front windows across the living room where I was sleeping on the couch.  I was slightly roused from my slumbers by the aroma of coffee brewing, but I thought it was just a dream until Lola sauntered into the room holding two mugs of coffee and wearing only a t-shirt.  Her nipples were protruding from under the shirt and her pussy was on display.  She sat down next to me and placed my mug on the coffee table in front of me.

“Sorry Daddy,” was all she said.

I looked at her and said, “Lo, what happened last night?”

She proceeded to tell me that she met up with Mr. Biggs at their designated rendezvous spot, since his wife was at home with the baby.  She hopped in his car and he wasn’t in any costume.

She was surprised, but he assured her that his costume was in the trunk.  He drove them to the party and pulled out his costume that fit right over his clothes.  Lola suspected that it was custom made since he was already one of the largest men she had ever seen.  How could it be so large as to fit even over his clothes?  It was a Jabba the Hutt outfit, as he had promised, but it literally covered him from head to toe.  The mouth of the costume was an opening through which he could see.  Meanwhile, Lo was scantily clad in her Princess Leia slave girl outfit, exposing her tummy and also, if one gained a glimpse at her bikini bottom, her bushy pubic hair.

“Where’d you get that?” asked Lo.

“My wife made it for me,” he said from within the mask.

“Talented.  Did she make one for herself?”

“No.”

“Does she know you’re wearing it out with me.”

“Of course not.”

Lo shrugged her shoulders.

The theme of the Halloween party was popular TV shows and movies from the ʼ70s.  At the party, Lola spied a Barney Rubble and Betty, a gay “CHiPs” duo, a “Bewitched” couple, and a “Three’s Company” throuple, among others.  As Lo scanned the guests, one stood out for her – a woman wearing only a trench coat and a red beret.  Lo approached her, curious to find out which 1970s celeb she was supposed to be, but also trying to be tactful about it.

“I know,” said the woman even before Lo could ask, “who am I?”

“Well,” said Lo, “now that you mention it.”

“I’ll give you five guesses and four hints, if you need them.”

“OK.”

“Hint number one: The original aired in the sixties, but ended in the seventies.”

Lo thought, but that didn’t help her at all.  She guessed, “‘Brady Bunch’?”

“No, silly,” said the woman, affably.  “Hint number two: The show had a remake in 2008 as a movie.”

Lo pondered, “‘Charlie’s Angels’?”

“Warmer,” said the woman.

“Hint number three: “I am smarter than the star.”

Lo knew that this was somehow a big hint, but she still had difficulty.  “‘Pink Panther’?”

“Really, really close!  OK, hint number four: I’m a secret agent.”

“Inspector Gadget?”

The woman laughed and said, “I can see how you’d think that, but that’s from the eighties.  OK, I’ll give you one more hint.  Last chance!  I go by the name ninety-nine.”

“Oh, I know!” said Lo, “Ninety-nine from ‘Get Smart’!”

“You got it!”

“What do I win?”

The woman then opened her trench coat and let Lo see her totally naked body underneath.  Lo’s jaw dropped.  Her mouth salivated.  She felt wet between her legs.

Agent 99

“Your secret weapon,” quipped Lo.

“Not so secret,” said her new friend.  “Hi, I’m Tara.”

“Tara, like the goddess?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Hi, I’m Lo.”

Tara looked Lo over approvingly, but Lo said, “Don’t be grossed out, I didn’t have time to shave.”

“What are you talking about grossed out?!  You’re gorgeous!”

“Well, I’m a little self-conscious,” said Lo, well aware of her protruding bush down below.

“Don’t be,” said Tara, “You can see, I left a little fluff down there too.”  Tara then flashed Lo once more.  Lo looked carefully this time, since it wasn’t a total shock to her.  She did see just a tuft of brown between Tara’s legs.

“Is Maxwell here?”

“Maxwell Smart – Agent 86?” asked Tara.  “No.  It’s just me.  A solo mission tonight.  I think I saw your date – Jabba the Hutt – earlier.”

“Can’t miss him,” said Lo.

“How long you two been together?” asked Tara.

“Second date,” said Lo.

“What?!”

“True.”  Then Lo told Tara the back story, about me, her, and how Lo likes to explore kinks, fetishes, taboos, and possibilities.  “What about you?” asked Lo.

“Well, funny you should mention your interest in kinks.”

“Why’s that?”

“This is my party – my kinky Halloween party.”

“This is your house?  I had no idea!”

“Yep.  Welcome!”

“You certainly are very hospitable.”

Just then Mr. Biggs approached Lola and Lo introduced him to her new friend Tara.

“I’ve been looking for you,” said Mr. Biggs.  “Let’s make sure I don’t lose you again.”  He proceeded to hook a leash to Lo’s collar and Lo then dropped to the floor in the Gorean Kajira slave position.  “That’s better,” said Mr. Biggs.”

Original art by Sergeii-g.

Lo looked up at Tara submissively.

Tara said to Mr. Biggs, “May I?” indicating that she wished to take the lead of the leash.

Mr. Biggs couldn’t say no.

Tara then led Lo, who crawled on all fours, to the upstairs bathroom.  People got a kick seeing Lo from behind as she crawled up the stairs.

In the bathroom, Tara said, “Shall we tidy you up?”  She indicated her shaving equipment.  Lo didn’t object.

Lo got out of her costume and stood before Tara, nude, while Tara prepared everything.  Tara then removed her only clothing – the trench coat and beret, and had Lo sit on the edge of the tub as Tara hopped in the tub, spread Lo’s legs, turned on the warm water, and began shaving Lo’s unruly bush.

A couple of times one of the guests happened to walk into the bathroom, which had the door wide open, only to find it occupied by the two naked water nymphs.

“It’s ok,” said Tara, “if you need to use the bathroom.  We don’t mind.”

No one took them up on it.

Tara grabbed Lo’s belly and pulled it up so that she could get a better angle on the triangular territory below to be trimmed.

“You’re beautiful,” said Tara.

“I’m trying to lose a few pounds I gained during the pandemic,” said Lo.

“Why?  This is hot,” said Tara, squeezing Lo’s roll.

Lo blushed.

Within a half hour, Tara had shaved Lo perfectly clean with her expert and steady hand.  Lo said, “Shall I return the favor?”

Tara, eager to prolong the intimate time with Lo, said, “I’d like that.”

They switched places and, with a few strokes of the wrist, Lo removed what little pubic hair remained at the nether point of Tara’s mons pubis.

The two of them rinsed, dried off, and then there was a knock at the door, even though the bathroom door was wide open.  It was Mr. Biggs.  How he managed to get up the stairs is a mystery.  It certainly involved struggle.  He was perspiring under his Jabba costume.

“Yes?” asked Tara.

“Just seeing that Lola’s ok.”

“I’m in good hands,” said Lo, looking at Tara who was cupping Lo’s breasts with her hands at that moment.

“You two look pretty there,” he said, stating the obvious.

“Oh yeah?” asked Tara, “Does the Hutt have a hard-on?”

“Help me out of this costume and you’ll find out.”

Lo and Tara walked with him to Tara’s bedroom where they helped him remove the elaborate getup.

He then removed his clothes.

“Lola tells me you have a feeder/feedie kink,” said Tara.

“Yes,” replied Mr. Biggs.

“Well, then, I’ll be right back.”

Quick as a flash, Tara sprinted out of the bedroom, down the stairs to the main party area in the living room and kitchen, her naked bum bouncing as she slid between all the costumed guests.  “A new outfit Tara?” said one of them.  “Let me guess, the Emperor’s New Clothes.”  She got a plate of chocolate covered strawberries, chocolate covered bananas, brownies, and dark chocolate in the shape of little pumpkins, and sped upstairs again.  A few people did double-takes as they saw the nude nymph dash past them and dart up the stairs.  “What’s going on up there?” asked one guest of another.

Tara smooth

Tara reentered the bedroom, catching Lola and Mr. Biggs in an intimate moment as he was leaning over in order to kiss Lo, who only came up to his chest.  Lo’s right hand was reaching for his small cock, hidden under the round, protruding roll that began over his waistline and flopped down, covering like a curtain his diminutive pecker.

“Hey you two,” said Tara, standing in the doorway, leaning up against the lintel of the door, her right leg resting on the frame, bent at the knee, and holding a plate of chocolate desserts dramatically, “hungry?”

“Mmmm,” moaned Lo, “What you got there?”

“Some sweets I made for the party.”

“You made these?!  They’re adorable!”

A Valentine’s Day treat package

Tara got on the bed – her bed – that was made very neat and tidy for the party.  She sat by the headboard with her legs spread.

Lo crawled on the bed like a leopard, slowly making her way to Tara’s tray of goodies.  Mr. Biggs stood behind Lo at the foot of the bed watching the show.  Tara held up a chocolate covered strawberry that had a white chocolate swirl around it.  Lo craned her neck to get a bite of the not-forbidden fruit.  Lo was able to grab it with her teeth and ate it.

Mr. Biggs was grabbing at his pud watching Lo eat the sweets.

Tara repeated the treat theater with a piece of the dark chocolate pumpkin.  Mr. Biggs liked what he saw.  He came around the side of the bed to get a better look.  He passed Lo a sealed condom that he apparently had been holding in his hand.

“Will you put it on?” he asked politely.

“I’ll try,” said Lo, looking up at his daunting frame.

“I’ll help,” said Tara.

Tara got under the large, drooping belly and lifted to allow Lo room to see and manipulate the condom.

“Reminds me of middle school,” said Lo, looking up at Mr. Biggs.

“Middle school?” asked Tara.

“I’ll tell you another time,” said Lo, enigmatically.

Lo was desperately trying to get the condom on the hard, but small penis.  Every time she thought she was successful, it fell off.

“Here,” said Tara, moving to one side, “you’re going to have to lie down on the bed.”

Mr. Biggs, embarrassed, but not surprised by the difficulty, got on the bed and rolled on his back.  His large stomach rested like a hump, allowing Lo more access.  The act of getting back on the bed had diminished his hard-on, so Lo put her mouth to his cock to revive it.  Tara held it for her.  Mr. Biggs’ pud grew in her hand and in Lo’s mouth and soon he was erect enough for Lo to slide on the condom.

Mr. Biggs stood up again and this time he stood by the middle of the bed.  Lo got back on all fours and Tara was on the other side of the bed, opposite Mr. Biggs.  She stood and fed Lo her snacks as if feeding a dog.

Mr. Biggs lifted his big belly and plopped it down on Lo’s ass, resting it there, as he grabber her by her hips and pulled her in so he could enter her from behind.  Once he was properly penetrating her, he let go of her hips and grabbed the leash to pull her back.

“Heel,” he said to Lo, as if talking to a dog.  “Heel.”  She pushed backwards with her ass, further enveloping his cock in her wet pussy.  She liked being treated like a bitch.

Tara said, “Want another treat?” to Lo, as if talking to a dog.  Lo licked her lips.  Tara fed Lo another strawberry.  Then Tara took the banana and held it between her legs as if it was her own cock and Lo took it in her mouth, demonstrating for Tara her talent for deep-throating.  Lo looked up at Tara as the banana went nearly all the way in her mouth.  She then pulled back and began eating the chocolate covered banana bite-by-bite.

This turned on Mr. Biggs so much that he was perspiring and breathing hard as he bounced his thick thighs off of Lo’s ass.

Unbeknownst to either Mr. Biggs or Lola, since their backs were to the door, some of the partygoers from downstairs had followed Tara’s naked butt up the stairs and were congregated by the door, watching the show.

Each deliciously decorated fruit fed to Lo brought Mr. Biggs closer to climax.  Lola, for her part, couldn’t even feel him in her, but she could feel his weight resting on her lower back and his hips hitting hers forcefully.

When all the food was gone, Lo pulled forward and rolled over onto her back, spreading her legs and raising them in the air so Mr. Biggs could enter her missionary style as Tara lowered her hips down on Lo’s face.  Lo licked Tara’s delicious labia and Mr. Biggs got a full view of Lo’s torso and all of Tara’s naked body as he slammed into Lo’s pussy with his pud.  Tara was too skinny for Mr. Biggs’ taste, but that didn’t stop him from admiring her body as her breasts bobbed up and down and as she pulled her nipples.

Lo could feel him only slightly more in the missionary position, but she sensed he was getting close to orgasm.  His thrusting increased in tempo and soon he was calling out as he grabbed Lo’s rolls and held on for dear life!

He suddenly tipped forward like a felled giant Sequoia.  He crashed down on Lo’s body as Tara cautiously backed up.  Poor Lo couldn’t even be seen under him anymore.  His full dead weight was upon her.  She struggled to whisper, “I can’t breathe.”  And she suffered a momentary panic attack as she thought that maybe he died and collapsed on her!

Luckily, he rolled off of her onto his back, breathing heavily, as was Lo after being released from the crushing weight.  At the sight of him, the people at the door scattered since the show seemed over.

Lo was feeling dizzy, lightheaded, and strange.  Had she nearly passed out when he was on her?  Everything seemed odd to her – sounds, her body, the ceiling as she looked up at it.

Tara caressed her forehead and the feel of her hand on Lo’s skin was nearly enough to bring Lo to a climax.

Lo pulled Tara down to her so that Lo could suck her tits.  Then she guided Tara’s body over her so that they were in a full-on sixty-nine on the bed.  Lo had never experienced anything like this.  Every inch of her body felt tingly and alive.  Her tongue probed and tasted Tara’s twat with the discerning sensitivity of a wine connoisseur finding the hints of oak and tints of sunset.  Lo didn’t know what was happening to her, but she liked it.

She felt Tara’s tongue protruding in her own hole as if the tentacle of a horny Cephalopod.  Suddenly Lo imagined she was under water, making love to and being made love to multiple sea anemones.  It was blissful!

Lola lost herself in an orgy of tentacles and wave after wave of intense orgasms as Tara’s pussy around her face felt like she was diving into the cunt of a kraken as it swallowed her with its enormous mouth.  Lo was suddenly swimming inside Tara as if ingested by her fluctuating, full vulva.

Lola dove in!

Emerging from the many leagues under the ‘C’ of Tara’s cunt, from between her wet legs, Lo came up for air.

“What is going on?” she asked out loud.

“What?” inquired Tara.

“The room is spinning – and breathing.”

“Lola, you know that I’m a cannabis confectioner, right?  All those chocolate strawberries and bananas you ate were infused with THC.”

“I had no idea, but I suddenly feel like Alice in Wonderland!”

“Oh boy,” said Tara, “you’re going to be feeling pretty strange for a while.”

Feedie for a Night

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3

A.I. Lola

“Daddy,” said Lo one morning as I was tying my tie and just about ready to leave for work.

“Yes?”

“Am I free this Friday?”

“Lo, you are always free.  Free and easy.”

“I mean, do we have any plans?”

“Not that I know of.  Why?”

“I have an admirer.”

“You have many admirers, Lo, and I’m your biggest admirer.”

“Depends on your metric for size,” she said.

“What does that mean?”

“You know that I’ve had bigger, right?”

“I wasn’t speaking of my anatomy,” I said.  “I have to go.”

“But Daddy,” she pouted, “I didn’t tell you about Friday yet.”

“Out with it.”

“So bossy.  I like it.  Rrrrrrrrrr.”  She rolled her ‘R’ with her tongue to make a revving sound.

“What is Friday?”

“Well, it seems that your story, ‘A Linguistically Mysterious Voyage into the Unknown’ got the attention of one of my fans.”

“Probably many fans.”

“And this particular fan wants to take me out.”

“On a date?”

“Yes, on a date.”

“Did you vet him first?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“Well, he’s not exactly my type.”

“Lo, everyone who is into you is your type.”

“That’s just what I mean.”

“What?”

“I’m not sure he can get into me.”

“I’m sorry, you lost me.”

“He is morbidly obese and, to make matters worse, he has a tiny penis.”

“You really performed quite the thorough vetting process.”

“Proper research is a must.”

“But you still want to go out with him?”

“He read that story and he said that he has a fetish for feedies.”

“Oh, he’s a chubby chaser.”

“He read about you calling me fat.”

“Is that ‘phat’ with a ‘p-h’ or ‘fat’ with an ‘f’?”

“I don’t know.  You wrote it.”

“Just checking.”

“Anyhow, he said he would simply like to get dinner and a movie.”

“He wants to see you eat?”

“Apparently.”

“And how do you feel about it?”

“You know me.”

“Biblically.  But I’m afraid I don’t know what that means in this context.”

“I’m a ‘trysexual.’  I’ll try anything at least once.”

“So you are willing to indulge this guy’s fetish for feeding you?”

“It’s rare I meet a kink I don’t like.”

“Well, suit yourself then.  Just be safe.”

“OK.  Love you!”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Pet the cat.”

“We don’t have a cat.”

“You know what I mean.  Pet.  The.  Cat,” she said as she patted her pussy with her right hand.

“And then what?”

“Feed the kitty.”

“Feed the kitty?”

She grabbed the double-ended dildo out from her nightstand drawer.

Lo and her Toys

“Oh,” I said, comprehending.  “No work today?”

“I have a Zoom meeting in fifteen minutes?”
“Do you have enough time before the meeting to both pet the cat and feed the kitty?”

“Who said I have to get all that done before the meeting?”
“You’re certainly not going to do it during the meeting?”

“Oh, Daddy!  You have such stodgy standards.”

“Well, just don’t become the next female Jeffry Toobin.”

As I was putting on my shoes, I saw her put on a white, business-attire blouse over her bare breasts.  Her breasts could be seen swinging from side-to-side as she moved.  She grabbed her suction-cup dildo and affixed it to the work chair she had in her special home work station, and she slid her naked bottom down onto the dildo while setting up her computer for the Zoom meeting.

“Have a good day at work,” she said over her shoulder.

“Enjoy your meeting,” I replied, closing the door behind me.

Lo looked forward to Friday with much anticipation.  Her chub-chaser admirer, whom we shall call Mr. Biggs, was quite the control freak.  With each passing day he gave Lo ever greater detailed instructions for how she should dress and prepare for their meeting.

All week long, Lola was popping out to the shops to buy this skirt, that top, these heels, those panties, etc.  Each day when she received a different instruction, description of an item, or photo of specific piece, she’d tell or show me, then she’d go on her scavenger hunt to find said object, bring it home, and try it on for me.  I can’t say that I found any of this objectionable, except that she was taking orders from another man.

Each night she would fantasize about her date while riding me.  She’d articulate out loud her vivid imagining of how it would go.  I’ll elide over these various fantasies since frequently I wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer than, “Then we’d sit down to dinner. . .” before I’d explode inside her and she would have to resort to her Hitachi and her silent imagination to bring herself to a not so silent orgasm.

Finally the Friday date night arrived and Lola put on exactly what Mr. Biggs had ordered – black, patent leather strappy heels, nylon stockings, a short black leather skirt, a white, transparent top, no bra, and a short black leather jacket.  She spent a good amount of time blowing out her silky, shiny black hair, doing her makeup and making sure her manicure and pedicure were perfect.  I was somewhat suspicious of all this preparation.  I mean, she was doing this date as a sort of whimsical frolic – to be another man’s feedie for a night.  But Lo took her role seriously and, no matter the paramour, she aimed to impress.  Was she trying to impress her date, those in the restaurant, or to make me jealous?  She was probably going for all three and I had no doubt she’d succeed.

Lola’s Date Night Outfit, A.I.

Mr. Biggs also aimed to impress.  He spared no expense on his date.  He chose one of the finest restaurants in town – one which had a commanding view of the city’s skyline.  A perk of remaining anonymous as a writer is that when Lo goes on these dates, I am able to keep tabs on her by sitting at the bar without concern that her part-time lover will suspect anything since there is no way I could be recognized as the man on whom Lo is cheating.

I went up the elevator up to the restaurant on the 29th floor first and I walked into the full, but oddly quiet, even staid establishment and took a seat at the bar.  This was an expensive, fancy restaurant where people spoke quietly and politely.  Most of the patrons were over fifty, dressed formally, and not one of them looked like they were having a good time.  It seemed more of a duty or a chore to go through the motions of eating dinner than having a fun night out with one’s partner, or paramour, however the case may be.

I was situated on a stool at the corner of the bar, the better to see wherever my Lo and her date were seated.  I looked around the room and didn’t see Mr. Biggs, whom I would have recognized from his photos that Lo insisted he send prior to agreeing to the date.  He was at least 300 pounds and there was no way he would have simply blended in with the crowd if he was already in the restaurant.  I became worried however, because none of the tables for two were empty or had the little “reserved” card on them.  Where would they sit?  Would I be able to see them?  I saw the elevator doors open and Lola walk up to the hostess, telling her the name for the reservation.

The hostess walked Lola over to a four-top and seated her, saying the rest of her party should be there soon.  Lola looked very much out of place in this stuffy dining room with its fancy China and white linen tablecloths.  Her black leather skirt and matching leather jacket, contrasting with her see-through white t-shirt (no bra), caused her to look like she had walked in from a Harley Davidson biker gang.  I was actually afraid the hostess would turn her away due to the dress code of the joint.  But she didn’t.

Lola sat alone at the table for four.  She was facing me and gave me a little, discrete wink.  I think she was just as confused by the table for four as I was.

Then, all of a sudden, a man shaped like a boulder entered the room.  He was one of the largest humans I had ever set eyes on!  He was dressed nicely – it must have been custom-made clothes – in black pants, a white pressed shirt, and a small blue and pink bow tie.  He wore no jacket over the shirt.  His waste line must have been 60 inches, at least!  He was probably just under six feet tall, with unusually small feet, at least compared with the size of the rest of him.  He looked down at Lola and smiled, politely.  From across the room, I could see that he was sweating on the brow of his bald head.  He sat down.  Now I understood why Lola was seated at a table for four.  He took up nearly the entire side of the table.  He had to move the second chair to the side in order to fit awkwardly.  I thought to myself, how does this guy ever fly on an airplane?  Or any public transport for that matter?  There is not a chair large enough for him!  As it was, I was worried about the structural integrity of the chair he was currently occupying.

A waitress came by and, after a word with Mr. Biggs, she removed the two extra place settings.  She then brought over a bottle of champagne.  At least the guy did his homework and knew Lo’s beverage of choice.  They clinked glasses.  Lola smiled coquettishly at him.  They opened their menus and a brief discussion ensued before he ordered for the two of them.  Lola seemed charmed by him.  Or, at least, she was laying on the charm – smiling seductively with a twinkle in her eye.  She must have found him to be endearing or else she wouldn’t be trying to hard to impress him.

From my vantage point, I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the words hardly mattered.  All the communication was exchanged between glances.  Lo allowed her leather jacket to flap open, revealing her hard nipples through the thin, transparent fabric of her blouse.

Lo, flaunting it. A.I.

The first course was served.  It was a creamy, thick soup.  It was only served to Lo.  Mr. Biggs sipped his champagne and intently watched Lo eat.  She brought the spoon up to her lips and daintily downed the soup.  She could see how enticed Mr. Biggs was by her polite performance and she relished in pushing the envelope.  She took a spoonful of soup and then, after eating it, she licked the spoon with her tongue very erotically.  Mr. Biggs’ eyes opened wide.  I do believe he was salivating at the sight.  I had to remind myself, he’s a feeder.  This is porn to him.

The next course came.  It was arancini balls, with a drizzle of cheese sauce on top.

I didn’t have to hear Lo to be able to read her lovely, lush, red lips saying, “Mmmmm, I love balls.”

Mr. Biggs watched as Lo slowly, indulgently took a bite of each ball from between her index finger and thumb as she used her hands to eat them.  Lo seemed to enjoy putting on the performance.

The third course was the main course – a beautifully creamy beurre blanc sauce over a filet of sole.  I could see by the look on Lo’s face that she was beginning to feel full.  But, nevertheless, she self-sacrificed for her friend’s food fetish fantasy.  Lola ate slowly, “accidentally” (on purpose) dripping a little of the white sauce on her chin.  She had Mr. Biggs eating out of the palm of her hand, even though she was the one doing the eating and mesmerizing him in the process.

She tried to make some small-talk, but he was too enraptured by her ingestion too converse.  Lo gave up on the conversation and continued to seduce by taking satisfaction in the sole.

Mr. Biggs’ abstention from partaking in the meal and his careful observation of Lola didn’t go without notice by the other patrons and the waitress, but that didn’t impinge upon his or Lola’s delight in the scenario.

Lo cleaned her plate, as she felt was the expectation.  This provided a brief interlude before dessert for her to get to know her dinner companion a little better.

“Tell me about you,” said Lo.

“What would you like to know?”

“Well, single, dating, married?”

“Married.”

“Oh, does Mrs. Biggs know you’re on a date with me?”

He chuckled and said, “Absolutely not!”

“Why not?  We’re just having dinner together.  How’s the sex-life?”

“Nonexistent,” he said with a frown.

“Oh no!  Why?”

“Look at me.”

That comment broke Lo’s compassionate heart.

“I’m diabetic, I have high-blood pressure, my circulation is terrible, and, if you haven’t noticed, I’m morbidly obese.”

Lo wanted to say, “And why don’t you have sex?” but she refrained.

“Also,” he continued, “she just gave birth – our first baby – and she’s exhausted, stressed, and has zero libido now.”

“Well, at least you did it once,” said Lo, lighting up.

“It was artificial insemination.”

“No!”  The exclamation escaped Lo’s lips before she knew what she was saying.

“Yes,” he said.  “We just aren’t, well, physically compatible.  I’m over three-hundred pounds and she’s a petite buck-ten.”

“There has to be a way.”

“Nope.  I mean, there was when we first got together.  But then when we wanted to get pregnant, over a year ago, I was already too large for her.  So we got professional help and, actually, that’s how I found you.”

“How’s that?” asked Lo, lighting up now that the topic of conversation had turned towards her.

“I was doing some research on-line about the process and I came across your story, ‘The Master,’ I think it was called.”

“Yeah,” said Lo.  “You came across it?” she asked for clarification.

“Not in that sense.  Well, I mean, later in that sense.”

“Good,” said Lo.

“But I found that story and then I found you and I was like, ‘Wow!  She’s hot!’  And then I saw a post about, what was it? – ‘A Wet Workout and a Wank.’  Was that it?”

“Maybe.”

“Yeah, and you were so sexy in that photo that I knew I had to contact you!”

“I see.”

Just then the waitress brought the dessert for Lola.  But it was also the dessert for Mr. Biggs’ eyes.  They were beaming at the melted chocolate lava cake à la mode that the waitress set between the two of them with two spoons.

“Aren’t you going to have some?” asked Lo, pouting cutely.  She asked not only out of concern for her date, who hadn’t eaten a thing all night, but also because she was beyond full.  She couldn’t imagine eating that entire portion herself!

“Oh no,” he said, “watching you eat is pleasure enough for me.”

Lola wanted this culinary cumfest to be as hot as possible.  She excused herself and went to the bathroom where she removed her t-shirt and returned with only her leather jacket on, unzipped, so that when she moved in just the right way, you could catch a glimpse of her naked breasts.

Flash and feed.

She sat back down at the table, moving in just the right way for Mr. Biggs.

She dug into the lava cake with her spoon and seductively licked the chocolate off of it.  Accidentally, a little of the chocolate lava dripped on her chin.  She went to wipe it off, but he said, “Please – that looks so good.”  Her hand holding the napkin froze midway to her mouth.  She realized that this turned Mr. Biggs on like nothing so far.  Lola put her napkin back on her lap and picked up the spoon.  Slowly, keenly spying Mr. Biggs’ reaction, Lola descended the spoon into the soft cake.  She got a little cake, a little lava, and a little vanilla ice cream on the spoon and raised it to her open mouth where her tongue was prominently placed to receive the helping.  But, at the very last moment as her hand made its slow-motion trajectory toward her parted lips, she diverted the delivery and smeared a large splotch of the sloppy serving around her lips.

Mr. Biggs’ eyes nearly popped right out of his face.  Lola repeated the performance, this time getting it on her chin.

Soon she sat with a goatee of chocolate and vanilla dripping down her neck.

The waitress came over and asked if everything was ok.  Lola looked up at her and smiled, saying, “Just fine.” She caught the waitress gazing down at Lo’s bare chest.

Mr. Biggs, looking to prolong Lola’s humiliation, politely asked for a cup of tea.  Neither Lo nor Mr. Biggs acknowledged the obvious – Lo’s messy mug.  The waitress was confused.  Soon other patrons in the restaurant were staring.  Lo, aware that this was a performance that pleased her paramour, played along, smiling back seductively at the guests who were embarrassed on her behalf.

She continued to smear cake on her face as Mr. Biggs sipped his tea patiently.  Soon it was spread from ear-to-ear.  Mr. Biggs could take no more.  He asked for the check.  He paid and soon the two of them were in the elevator going down.

Lo still wore her dessert on her face and Mr. Biggs said, “May I kiss you?” once the doors of the elevator shut.

“Yes.”

He didn’t so much kiss Lo as greedily lick what he could from her face.  He was in an ecstasy of culinary concupiscent rapture.  As he kissed her face, Lo reached down, under his substantial stomach, and grabbed his crotch.  To her amazement, she felt nothing.  She recalled his comment about high blood pressure.  The elevators arrived at the lobby and the two of them got out.  Both of them had chocolate on their faces now.  They walked through the crowded arcade of shops and restaurants on the ground level until they were in the parking garage.  It was an empty garage and Lola could spot Mr. Biggs’ car right away.  It was the SUV parked in the handicapped spot to the right of the doors.  He clicked the remote and it lit up.  Lola stepped up onto the elevated footstep and hoisted herself in.  Mr. Biggs got into the driver’s side and turned to Lo.  He was breathing heavily.  He continued to kiss her face.

She pulled back.  “You said dinner and a movie.  What movie?”

“Well, we can’t go to my house.  My wife is there.  And I would like to go to a movie with you, but I also want so much more.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I would love a blowjob.  I haven’t had one in ages.”

Lo unzipped his fly and pulled out the little pud that she found hidden in there.  How could this outsized giant have such a below average cock?

“Do you mind if I watch a movie?” he asked.

Lo’s lips were already wrapped around his pud.  She didn’t reply.  He took out his phone.  He began watching all sorts of BBW (Big Beautiful Women) and SSBBW (Super Sized Big Beautiful Women) porn.  Lo’s thick mane was between Mr. Biggs’ legs as he held his phone on the steering wheel and watched the porn in the largely vacant parking garage.  Every once in a while Lo would come up for air, look at the porn, give him a kiss, and then go back down for more.

This continued for quite a while, until, in fact, Lo’s jaw began to get tired.  And then Lo began to get tired.  She had had a full bottle of champagne all to herself at dinner.  Gradually, Lo’s sucking and bobbing slowed until she was merely lying in Mr. Biggs’ lap, reduced to nothing but a cock-warmer as he continued to gluttonously engorge on porn of large women.

Lo had no idea how much time elapsed as she was snoozing in Mr. Biggs’ lap, but the next thing she remembers was feeling his large hands in her hair, gently pushing her face down on his diminutive dick as his hips pushed up.  Up-and-down, in-and-out, he was manipulating her to face-fuck his cock.  Perhaps he found just the right video to engage his libidinous desires.  Perhaps he needed to cum and wanted to bring the night to its ultimate conclusion.  Maybe he found her unconsciously covering his cock to be a real turn-on.  Who knows?  Lo was roused from her slumbers and, though surprised at first, she eventually engaged enthusiastically in the effort until, with much wheezing, quick thrusts, and a few grunts, Mr. Biggs unloaded into Lo’s mouth as she lapped up every stray drop from his small pud.

Lo sat up, her hair disheveled, her mouth dripping with cum and her face covered still in drying chocolate, and she looked at Mr. Biggs.  He did not look well.  He pulled out an inhaler and took a few quick puffs.  He was perspiring.  Lo actually asked if she should call for help.  He assured her he would be ok.

When he finally caught his breath he looked at the clock and said, “Thanks Lo, but I have to be going.  Will we see each other again?”

“I had a good time.  When would you like to get together?”

Lo actually had no intention of seeing him again, but she is always polite.

“Halloween is coming up in two weeks and I have an invite to a very special party.  Perhaps then?”

“Sure,” said Lo as she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  She popped out of the car and pulled out her phone, texting me.  She knew I wasn’t far.  I told her where I was and soon she was in the car with me and she relayed the blow-by-blow to me as we drove home.

Lola was receiving detailed instructions from her paramour who grew more perverted by the pound.  The special Halloween party, he informed Lo, was to be for kinksters only.  All invitees were expected to arrive in an outfit that would be outlandish and sexy at the same time.

Perhaps this does not come as such a great surprise, but Mr. Biggs, in addition to being a chub chaser, was also a total nerd who had a thing for Star Wars.  As a result, the costume he had fixated on for him and Lo was Jabba the Hutt and Princess Leia respectively.  But there would be an interesting twist on the costume.  Instead of it being a pairing of ginormously fat and rail thin, it was ginormously fat and Lo, in the sex slave outfit, proudly parading her prominently rounded rolls.

Lola was worried about this since she was self-conscious of the weight she had gained in the past couple of years.

“Lo,” I said, reassuringly, “you are gorgeous.”

“But. . .”

“No but.  I mean, beautiful butt!  Beautiful big butt – I cannot lie.  Besides, beauty, sex-appeal, the feminine mystique, it’s all about the mind, attitude, confidence, and persona anyway.”

“Slut is a state of mind.”

“Exactly!  I mean, just look at our friend, what’s-her-name.”

“Oh, funloving BBW?”

Funloving BB@

“Yeah, her.  By conventional standards. . .”

“Conventional standards of beauty constructed by men,” Lo interrupted.

“That’s what I was about to say.  By conventional standards she would not be beautiful.”

“Beauty is such a malleable thing.  I mean she might be just what Rubens considered the ideal of femininity.”

“Of course, but I’m not talking about Rubens.  I’m talking about Hugh Hefner, Bob Guccione, Larry Flynt.”

“They defined beauty for a few generations.”

“But look at what’s happening now,” I said, “with content creators like Faye Daniels, Dirty Little Diva Nicole, Chelle Silverstein, and even people like our friends, Samantha Massie, Sara Anne, Jennifer Kincade, and Karla Mott Nowak – they’re all so beautiful in their own ways and people appreciate that today.”

She gave me a sidelong look, revealing her jealousy.  She can sometimes behave just like Tinkerbell with that razor edge of possessiveness.  I knew I was in trouble.

“I mean, no one compares to you, of course.”

Funloving BBW

Believe

Funloving BBW

Moo

Funloving BBW bikini

 

Funloving BBW

Faye Daniels

Faye Daniels

Faye Daniles

Faye Daniels

Faye Daniels

The glamorous Faye Daniels in Rose Shaped Sunglasses

Faye Daniels and friend

Faye Daniels and friend

Dirty Little Diva Nicole and friends

Chelle Silverstein

Chelle Silverstein and husband Brenden Basil

Hotwife Sara Anne

Hotwife Sara Anne

Sara Anne

Samantha Massie

Samantha Massie

Jennifer Kincade

Jennifer Kincade

Jennifer Kincade

Karla Mott Nowak

Karla Mott Nowak

Karla Mott Nowak

Karla Mott Nowak