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A Time to Love

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Lola’s older sister, Roberta Go

“Gazing at the written world, seeing the elegant self-restraint that guards an inner decomposition, a biological decay until the last moment from the prying eyes of the world; that bilious, sensually disadvantaged ugliness that is able to kindle its smoldering fire into a pure flame and to even usurp the throne in the kingdom of beauty.”

– Death in Venice, Thomas Mann

 

“Really?” asked Lo as I mixed the gin in with the tonic and sliced up a sliver of lime.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s not even noon.”

“What is time in a global pandemic anyway?”

We were two weeks into lockdown.  We were stranded in paradise.  Far away from our everyday hustle and bustle, cold weather, friends and family, we followed the dire warnings about travel a week into our winter vacation to the beachside resort town.  The sun was shining, the sea breeze gently moderating the temperature, the inviting golden sand beckoning us to walk through it barefoot.  But all the amenities of this place were off-limits.  One-by-one each pleasurable pastime was shut down, cordoned off, closed – first the bars and restaurants, then the beach itself, and finally the boardwalk.  We were allowed to walk on the sidewalks, but that was it.  There was nowhere to go anyhow.  We could take our lives in our hands and go to the supermarket to get necessities (if we could find them on the bare shelves), but we didn’t want to do that and we made as infrequent visits there as possible.

News of sickness, disease, and death were filtering into every media channel.  It seemed that even if we didn’t watch the news, we still couldn’t escape it – it was in the air.  The stock market was tumbling down off a cliff, unemployment was spiking, and anxiety was everywhere.  We couldn’t hug our neighbors for comfort, for they may be the vicious vector conveying the virus within their sincere attempt at reassurance.

Lola and I were utterly alone on the 25th floor of a resort hotel overlooking the vacant beaches and streets with nothing but the brilliant yellow, blue, and wisps of white for company.  On the horizon we could make out three giant cruise ships forbidden from docking for fear of their deadly cargo.  We were informed that the virus was rampant and people dropping with asphyxiation on the decks, desperately looking to the shore for some sort of assistance, in vain.

Death surrounded us.  So why not have a gin-and-tonic after breakfast?  I had plunged into nihilism.

Yes, I still had Lola as my companion, but there was little for me to write about regarding “my sexlife with Lola.”  Her trysts, flirtations, and dogging down by the pool area were prohibited by the pandemic.  Yes, she still masturbated three, four, five times a day, but I’ve written about that in such detail and with such frequency that there is hardly anything new I could bring to the topic.  Our lives beat on with the same monotony as the repetitive waves upon the shore.

Until one day our desperation to escape the gloom of death and destruction was relieved.  We found solace in the strangest of places.  While preparing for her Friday morning fap session, Lo was doing her usual foreplay routine which includes checking her elicit email account.  In it, she discovered a missive from her sister Robie, whom she hadn’t seen for a dozen years or more.  Even with me, she had only mentioned her in passing as her “estranged sibling.”  All I knew about her was that she was older and residing abroad.  How on earth did she find Lo’s secret email account?

After getting the email, Lo called me into the bedroom and explained some of the backstory.

“She’s older and when we were kids we slept in the same bed.  It became. . . interesting. . . when she grew boobs.  Long story short, we got caught, she got kicked out of the house and sent to boarding school and then to Europe.  We were separated for a long time.”

“Why did she suddenly write to you now?” I asked.

“I’m getting there,” said Lo, still naked under the sheets, slowly stroking between her legs as she spoke, “During COVID lockdown she needed something to help her get off.  She was scouring the internet to find the really dirty stuff.  She came across (and to) our blog and, because I don’t show my face, was fapping to it regularly, not knowing it was me – her sister – that was making her horny, until one day she noticed something that gave me away.  She reached out and sent this photo of her with the ebook of Match, Cinder & Spark.”

Robie with our ebook

She showed me the photo.  I was in a state of shock; first by the events that led to this interaction and then by the family resemblance I saw between Lo and Robie.

“She’s beautiful,” I uttered unconsciously.

Lo took offense.  Always jealous.

“I mean, she looks so much like you.  It’s a compliment.”

Apparently Lo, being the younger sister, always took a backseat to Robie.  My comment brought back all those jealousy issues.

Since that first email exchange as adults, the two have reconnected on a number of levels, not least of which is that they frequently get off to each other long-distance.

I suppose the ever-present, yet occasionally more pressing, specter of death can reunite as well as rend.

Robie showing that she has been using Lo to get off

Protected: Lola Springs Eternal

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The Master

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[Continued from Immoral Support.]

Lo’s Casual Connection Clothes

It was a long, tense time of waiting, but ultimately Cam tested negative for pregnancy.  Lo was elated.  Not only did it mean that the lucky winner wouldn’t be from the corrupted batch of sperm, but it also meant another session with Ted.  Unfortunately, that’s not how it turned out.  When the Bat-signal was given, indicating that Cam’s ovulation was at hand, Lo couldn’t make it on the evening when Ted would be there.  As a consolation prize, Lo sent Ted a few sexy pics.  He reciprocated by sending Lo a photo of him in the act of donating, using Lo’s photo as inspiration.  Lo was over the moon with joy and arousal when she saw his pic.

Yet another month passed and the magic potion had not produced the desired effect.

Lo and Ted’s services were required again and this time Lo didn’t disappoint.  She showed up early, wearing one of her most slutty outfits – tight jeans, jackpot top, and leather boots.

A Look at Lo

She walked in like a boss and chatted with Cam and Gina as they awaited Ted’s arrival.  Lo could tell she had their attention and she liked it.  She basks in sexual energy directed at her.  Cam and Gina revealed that Ted had shown them the very explicit photo he had used last time.  Lo feigned indignation, saying, “That was private!  For his eyes only!”  But she added, “Well, I guess that makes it ok for me to show you this,” and she proudly displayed the pornographic photo Ted had sent her.

The women had a good laugh about Ted’s less-than-average sized cock, but they both assured Lo of his skill in bed.  (I know that I have described Ted’s member as “long, hefty meat,” but I was relying on Lo’s description, prior to the visual evidence.)

Ready to Donate

“I wouldn’t know,” said Lo, referring to their praise of his sexual skill.  “I’m here strictly for clinical purposes.  It’s purely Pavlovian.  I elicit a response that produces the desired effect in order to facilitate the procreative process.  It’s quite literally the closest I will ever get to being a biological parent.  But it’s a role I’m used to,” she said enigmatically, referring, of course, to her crucial part in bringing about the very writing you are reading.  She is the active agent in this alchemical magic causing a conception in the mind.

Ted walked in, greeted the trio, and entered the bedroom.  Lo followed.

“Let’s not have any missed opportunities,” said Lo, referring to the trajectory of Ted’s last salvo that had landed so far off target.  “I’ll take matters into my own hands this time.  Drop your pants,” commanded Lo like a doctor in the examination room.

Ted complied and Lo grabbed the plastic cup in one hand and with the other she stroked Ted’s cock.  She did it professionally, detached, again, like a doctor performing a routine exam. He was standing, hunched over.  Lo leaned over slightly and whispered in his ear.

“Feel good?”

“Yes.”

“You like how I tug you?”

“Yes.”

“I have a lot of practice.  A lot.”

Indecipherable groan.

“You’ll tell me when you’re close.”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to cum for me?”

“Yes.”

“Cum for me.  Cum for me.  Cum for me.”

Did Ted know that Lo was reenacting the scene from The Master in which Amy Adams jacked off Phillip Seymour Hoffman?    Need I say, she performed masterfully.

The Master with Amy Adams and Phillip Seymour Hoffman

Cum he did and Lo’s dexterous hands insured that every last drop was collected for its intended use by Cam and Gina.

Immoral Support

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Lo Bursting her Blouse

[Continued from Brass in Pocket]

 

“You can’t use lube, moisturizer, not even spit or pussy juice,” warned Cam.  “The fitness of the sperm depends upon it.”

“I understand,” said Lo, clinically neutral in tone.

Ted had seen Lo’s photo and was intrigued.  He consented to have her help in the donation room.

“I might just observe the first time,” said Lo.

We had been invited to Cam and Gina’s house for dinner in order to meet Ted.  It was awkward at first.  But Lo’s seductive stares boosted Ted’s ego, I’m sure.  I don’t think Lo was as attracted to him, per se, as she was attracted to the idea of being a facilitator for a man to ejaculate.  The set-up captivated her more than the stud.

Lo got the call from Cam one afternoon.  “It’s time.”

Off she went to their house the next day.  I stayed home.  I was superfluous to the process.  This was two people trying to conceive, after all, not a spectator sport.

Lo and Ted went into the spare bedroom as Cam and Gina were in the master bedroom.  Lo had worn a button-down white shirt with a collar.  It seemed two sizes too small for her.  Under it she wore a lacey red bra.  She had on a short leather miniskirt with a red lace thong under it.  On her feet were red heels.  Her toenails and fingernails were fire engine red, as were her lips.  She was the picture of crimson seduction.

She sat in a corner chair in the bedroom.  Ted stood over the bed.

“I usually look at some porn on my phone,” he said to Lo.

“Go right ahead,” replied Lo.

“I don’t really need to today,” he said shyly.  “I mean, if you don’t mind me looking at you.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess.  You look great,” he said.

“Pull out your cock,” Lo said, not mincing words.

Ted unzipped and reached into his boxers to pull out his long, hefty meat.

“Take off your pants.  You have to aim that thing and those will just be in the way,” said Lo, indicating the plastic cup on the bed that had a diameter of about three inches.  “Come on, don’t be shy.  This is for Cam and Gina.”

He pulled out his cock.  It was limp.

“Mmmmm,” moaned Lo, encouragingly.  She licked her tongue over her pearly white teeth.

“Do you like cock?”

“You have no idea,” she said.  “Do you like tits?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you like mine?” she asked, boosting her tits with her arms so they burst out of her small bra and blouse.

“They’re hot.”

“Jack it.”

Ted began to stroke his cock.

“What turns you on?” asked Lo.

“Um, I, uh, I don’t know,” he said, his cock getting soft again in his hand.

“Tell me.  I won’t tell anyone.”

“I like dirty talk.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“I like women to say nasty things.”

Lo leaned over in her chair.  She rested her head on her hands and her elbows rested on the bed.  Her mouth was mere inches away from his cock.  She looked up at him.

“Cum for me.  Stroke your long, thick cock and cum for me.”

Ted began stroking.  He inched forward toward Lo’s face.

“That’s it.  Pretend I’m a little whore who wants to swallow your hot jiz.”

She put her tongue out and she could tell he was about to cum.  She held up the receptacle to the tip of his penis and. . .

“Holy shit!” said Lo, her face covered in Ted’s torrent.  “You totally missed!”

“What are we going to do now?” he asked, scared.

Lo used her fingers and swiped as much of the sticky pearlescent goo into the container as she could.

“We can’t do that,” protested Ted.

“Shut up and get me a towel.”

Ted complied.

Handing her the towel, he apologized obsequiously.  “I’m so so sorry.  I don’t know how that happened.  I guess I was excited.  I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok,” laughed Lo.  “I liked it.  Now just play it cool.”

“But,” Ted began to protest.

“It’s ok.  Just give them the collection jar.  I don’t wear makeup.  Only on my eyes and luckily you missed my eyes.”

Lo’s Lips

Protected: Res Ipsa Loquitur, or The Pencil Test

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I Need a Dirty Woman, I Need a Dirty Girl

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We were into December.  It had been almost a month since our last “drive-in” date with Ron and Nicole.  In the meantime, they kept up an intense correspondence with us through email.  Turns out that they have three kids, all under ten, and she has been dealing with some health issues that have impaired her energy and libido.  He is an avid nudist and exhibitionist who loves to go to clothing optional beaches and bare it all!  Although he doesn’t have that much to bare.  Not to worry, Lo is always intrigued by different shapes and sizes.

Ron

Poor Ron was eager to please – his wife and anyone who would have him.  Nicole, however, was not so keen on sex.  Even before her medical problems dampened her desire, she was not enthusiastic about her sex life with Ron.  They had dated since high school.  They were raised as good Catholic kids and told not to have sex before marriage.  They got married in their early twenties and that’s when Nicole was disabused of the adage “size doesn’t matter.”  No.  It really did matter for her.  But, due to her upbringing, she wasn’t able to think about alternatives.  Masturbation, sex toys, other partners were all off the table.  She wasn’t even comfortable with having sex in any other position than missionary.

Nicole

After the birth of their third child and the onset of medical issues, she not only couldn’t feel Ron’s cock, but wasn’t interested in it anymore either.

They had tried a couples’ counselor, a marriage therapist, and now were working with a sex coach.  They went to a woman Ron had found on the internet who specializes in Catholic sexuality.  She had suggested that they both explore their own bodies alone, with porn, erotica, or whatever excited them.  For Ron, that was easy – nude beaches, exposing himself, and being seen, even if only virtually were already in his wheelhouse.  He had discovered a number of websites where he could hang-out as much as he wished and no one would be offended.

Ron & Nicole – the happy couple

For Nicole, this was much more difficult because her sexual desire was directly related to her guilt.  She required multiple special sessions, one-on-one, with the sexologist.  Through the coaching, she slowly learned to appreciate sex and sexuality in a new way.  Rather than think of it as a necessary bodily function that had to be endured in order to achieve a certain result, much like relieving oneself in the privy, she was opened up to the idea that sex was sacred, divine, and a sacrament.  The Church doesn’t often promote this aspect of sex.  Why would they?  The officers of the institution are all celibate!  It would be like college professors encouraging students to get an education outside of academia.

Nicole

Slowly, Nicole came round to the notion of at least accepting her sexuality rather than being ashamed of it.  And that went for Ron’s sexuality as well – if Nicole could accept that she is a sexual being, then this was the first step to accepting that Ron is also a sexual being.  The next step was to realize that sexuality is not experienced or expressed uniformly.  It is like the sun – its origin is the same, but how it illuminates various objects depends on the individual make-up of each object.  Some are square and green.  Others are round and pink and white stripes.  Similarly, we all feel sexual urges, but they manifest differently for each of us.  For some that means hetero, monogamous, vaginal intercourse.  But for others, it can be expressed in a myriad of ways – from men wearing woman’s panties, to women donning strap-ons.

Nicole

This was a great hurdle for Nicole to overcome.  But, along the way, she was willing to try new things for the sake of the relationship.  Through Ron’s explorations of the interweb, he found Lola, struck up a correspondence, included Nicole, and eventually we had our first “date,” which I already described for you.  Through our correspondence, it became clear that Ron desperately wanted Lo and Nicole desperately wanted to be like Lo.

Nicole

Lola in her thong

They were eager to have a second date.  Due to COVID, we had to take the same precautions, but we arranged to meet in a remote spot, far outside of our city, so that the experience wouldn’t be foiled again.

Ron hanging out

Nicole’s medical issues had done things to her body that caused her even more shame.  She didn’t want us to be shocked so, in preparation for our second date and to help her become more comfortable with her body (that Ron, incidentally, found very desirable) she posed for some boudoir photos taken by her husband.  They emailed them to us.

“Do you still want to do this?” she asked, afraid we’d be turned off by how gravity distorted her once toned and tight flesh.

“Yes!” replied Lo, enthusiastically.  “Every body is beautiful in its own way.”

Much was the same on our second date as it was on the first.  Cold.  Late night.  Dark, vacant parking lot.  The two cars parked next to each other.  But this time Lo had put some thought into the “performance” she wished to put on for the struggling couple.  She stripped naked and danced seductively in front of their headlights.  They had on their high-beams and, thanks to the chill, Lo’s were on too!

Lo sauntered up to the passenger side window where Nicole sat and pressed her tits up against the glass.  Nicole and Ron had removed their clothing too and Lo could get an imperfect view of them behind the frosted glass and through the round figure eight where her tits had melted the icy coating.

Nicole

Lo returned to the car where we had the heat blasting and took out her phone.  She called Ron.  Their phone was on speaker, as was ours.

“Did you like what you saw?” Lo asked.

“Very much,” replied Ron.

“Are you hard?” asked Lo.

“As hard as I can get,” he said.

“Yeah, I saw.  Two inches?”

“Slightly longer than that, when I’m hard.”

“I’m stroking him,” chimed in Nicole.

“Suck him,” commanded Lo.

“Can we watch you suck off HH?” she asked.

Lo looked up at me.  “Will you stay hard if we go outside?”

“For you, darling, anything.”

First she warmed me up in the car with her mouth, the wetness of which only made the shock of the cold air even more acute.

We got in front of the headlights and Lo got on her knees, taking me in her mouth.

We lasted like that for about a minute or so, but then hopped back into the heated car.

Nicole said that Ron had cum already.

“What about you?”

“I haven’t cum in ages,” she said with a certain sadness in her voice.  She also sounded resigned to this fact.

“HH is going to suck on my hard nipples,” said Lo, taking me to her chest.  “I can cum through nipple stimulation alone.”  She didn’t mean to sound as if she was bragging, but wanted to inform them why she’d soon be moaning and even calling out that she’s cumming.

Lo’s Orgasmic Nipples

“I wish I could,” said Nicole.

As I sucked, bit, stretched, nibbled, and tongued Lo’s nipples, we could hear Ron and Nicole getting their clothes back on.  They drove away as Lo climaxed, but they left the phone on to hear it.

When Lo regained her composure, she went down on me as I put the car in reverse and drove home.

Truthfully, I forgot that Lo’s phone was still on as I commented about how hot Lo was and what a show she put on for the couple.

Lo occasionally took her lips off of my cock to remark about how she wished we weren’t in COVID times so she could have let Nicole suck her tits through the window or so she could have gone over to the driver’s side, reached down between Ron’s legs and give him a handjob.

She resumed sucking as I drove the abandoned streets.  She said she wished that Nicole would wear a strap-on and fuck her over the hood of the car.

Suddenly, through Lo’s phone, we heard moaning and heavy breathing.  It was loud – loud enough for us to hear it over my own heavy breathing and Lo’s slurping.  It was Nicole.  She was cumming.

Ron informed us after the peak had subsided that Nicole masturbated (for the first time!) in the car on the ride home, listening to us and the dirty things Lo was saying and she managed to bring herself to a clitoral climax.

Mission accomplished.