Lola Puts the “Fun” in Fundamental Fantasy

Lola Dreams of Gang Bangs

 

“Lola, by any chance did you watch Lily Phillip’s fucking a hundred cocks?” I asked over breakfast.

“Who do what?” she replied.

“Don’t be coy.”

We were sitting on the roof deck of a fancy five-star hotel in South Beach.  To my right was the famous Ocean Blvd. and then the Atlantic.  To my left was the roof deck pool, cabanas lining the side of it, and a bar at the far end.  In the pool and lying out in the early sun were topless women and their husbands sunning themselves and drinking cocktails.  It was only ten in the morning, and at that hour a Bloody Mary is basically breakfast.  Or, at least it is when you’re on vacation.

“Of course I watched it,” she finally blurted out.  “Why?”

“I was reading an article this morning that was quite enlightening about it.”

“I bet you were,” she said with jealous derision in her tone.

“Do you care to read it?”

“What’s it called and what do you find so fascinating about it?”

“It’s called ‘Lily Phillips: One Woman’s Dream of Don Juan’ or something like that. In a nutshell, it says that there is an archetypal sexual fantasy for men and another for women.”

“I’m curious.  What would those be?”

“For men, it’s the – well, it’s a little difficult to explain,” I stumbled over my words.  “But basically, every man fantasizes about being an Alpha Male on steroids.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just imagine Rocky, The Terminator, John McClane from Die Hard, all rolled into one.”

“I get it, like Tyler Durden is to what’s his name in Fight Club.”

“Exactly.  And, he doesn’t have a name.”

“The fantasy figure?”

“No, the narrator for Fight Club, played by Edward Norton.  He’s so castrated that he doesn’t even get a name.”

“Castrated?”

“Never mind.”

“And what is a woman’s fantasy?  Please, do tell,” she said sarcastically, underscoring that it is not a man’s place to tell a woman her fantasy.

“According to this article, Don Juan.”

“Don Juan?” she repeated, stunned.  “He’s a male fantasy, if anything.  I mean, he is the prototype for those movies you just mentioned.”

“That’s what’s interesting about this essay,” I said.  “It’s a little too convoluted for me to explain.  Why don’t you read it yourself.”

I texted it to her.  She finished her breakfast, stood up, removed her bikini top, and sat in one of the lounge chairs facing the pool, phone in hand, reading the article.

I ordered a mimosa and sat across the pool from her.  I watched her from behind my dark sunglasses as her left hand held the phone in its palm and her right hand moved lower and lower down her abdomen, to her bikini bottom, and then between her legs, where she pulled the thong to the side and revealed her long, meaty labia.  She slowly stroked them in full view of all to see – especially me.

The boys get a real thrill when Lo’s around

When she was done with the article, she looked up from her phone.  There, in the pool, were at least two men and a few boys who had been spying on her just as I had been.  Let me be clear, everything she did was unconscious.  When she’s engrossed in something – a movie, a book, an article – she is oblivious to the onanistic meanderings of her free hand.  But her audience was engrossed in her.  Each of them – including me – tried to pass it off as if they hadn’t noticed a thing, but it was abundantly evident – to me and everyone else, especially the wives and moms around the pool – what captivated their attention.

She glanced over the brim of her large and dark sunglasses, smiled, fixed her bikini bottom, and walked to the bar where she sat on one of the stools.  It was a small, tiki-style bar, only big enough for four patrons at a time.  She waited for the bartender who, at that moment, was delivering a tray of drinks to various patrons around the pool.

I met her over at the bar and said, “Well?  What did you think?”

“I like that the author doesn’t deny Lily Phillips her right to claim her own pleasure, her own fantasy.  I like that he doesn’t say, “She says this, but she must be wrong.”

“And?” I was expecting a critique.

“I also agree with the observation that no man, no matter how virile, can ever get it up enough.”

“I thought you’d like that.  I mean, that was the theme of our second book, More!, after all.”

“But,” she began.

“Ah-ha!  I knew there was a but.”

The bartender returned to his post and asked Lo what she’d like.  Lo got excited.  She stood up from the stool and was now bending over, leaning on the bar, showing her thong-clad butt off to her loyal fans in the pool.

A.I. of Lola by the pool

“Hmmm,” she said, licking her lips, “you have all these specialty cocktails.  I love their whimsical names!”

“I think she’ll need a minute,” I said to the bartender, with a wink.

She was wiggling her butt in anticipation of the fun drinks, like a puppy excited to play.

“So,” I said, bringing her back to the conversation.  “What is the but?”

“Well, I think there are a lot of fantasies – not just two.”

“Fair, but I think he’s talking about a fundamental fantasy.”

“You know,” she said, looking at me now, “even Don Juan wasn’t so simple as people make him out to be.”

“Your point?”

“Well, when he was a young man – I mean, really just a boy – he was sold into slavery and then, when spied by the sex-starved sultana, Gulbeyaz, she had her eunuch buy him for her, dress him up as a harem girl, and sneak him into the sultan’s seraglio for him to please her on the sly.”

“You mean, in Byron’s telling of the tale,” I said.

“Of course Byron!” she responded.

“And your point?” I asked again.

She turned her head over her shoulder and looked at her admirers in the pool.

“Well, maybe Don Juan is a woman’s fantasy, just not the Don Juan who beds all the women.  Maybe the Don Juan who. . .”

“Lo, I think I know where you’re going with this.  You weren’t dreaming of Lily Phillips while reading that article over there,” I nodded to where she had been lying down.  “You were dreaming of MILF Meri’s son.”

“Por qué no los dos?”

“Madam?” asked the bartender.

“I’ll have the Red Headed Slut shot,” said Lo, licking her lips.

“Very good.  And you sir?”

“The Blue Balls shot.”

Meri and son with a bull

Marsupial Position

After the first Cum Cube companion had left, Lola heard the special knock at the door.  It was still ten minutes before her next appointment.  Lo opened the door cautiously.  It was Meri.

MILF Meri desperate at the bar for some real cock

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry,” Meri replied, “I couldn’t stay away.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” replied Meri, dismissive of Lo’s insults.

“HH calls me that all the time.  I take it as a compliment.  Like, ‘You’re incredible!  You’re amazing!  You have the sexual powers of a goddess.’  You know?”

“Oh, so you think you’re paying me a compliment?”

“It all depends on how you take it.”

“How did you take it?”

“Take what”

“That guy’s cock.  That’s what.”

“Fast and deep, front and back.”

“I figured.  I could hear you cumming from across the street.”

“You could?”

“Of course!”

“And now you want some?”

“Are you going to deny me?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”  Actually, after her first session, which was so much more than she could have imagined, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle any more and was glad for the reinforcements.

“When’s your next appointment?”

Lo looked at her watch.  “He should be here any minute now.”

“I gotta get out of these clothes then.”

“Yes, hurry,” said Lo, helping Meri out of her winter attire.

Soon Meri was in nothing but a white bra, her white nylons, and her red pumps.

“There’s one rule you have to keep.”

“What’s that?”

“You have to remain bent over, facing this wall.  The idea is that there is a certain level of anonymity.  They can’t see you and you can’t see them.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“But I though you vetted them on-line?”

“We were still anonymous there.  They are afraid that if I know who they are, I could blackmail them.”

“Blackmail?”

“Yeah, because of their wives and families and such.”

“Oh, right.”

“And I, well, you know, I just like anonymous fucks anyhow.”

“Oh, I know!”

There was a knock at the door using the secret code.

Lo released the latch and the next patron of the arts entered the sacred space.  He was confronted with not one round, beautiful rump ready to be mounted, but two.  One naked, used, and welcoming, and one, larger than the first, squeezed into the tight-fitting nylons.

Mr. Next Up came in and didn’t say anything.  He just ran his hand over both rears that were confronting him.  He gave Lo’s a little smack and then pulled Meri’s tights down around her knees.  He began fondling both of them – Lo with his right hand and Meri with his left.  He then got on his knees behind Lo and began licking her ass, perineum, and pussy as he continued to fondle Meri, inserting a finger into her pussy and then his thumb into her ass.

Both Lo and Meri were now grinding on him – Lo on his tongue and Meri and his digits.

“Fuck me,” said Lo.

“Fuck me!” insisted Meri.

The girls could hear him unbuckle his pants and then heard him let his pants drop to the floor.  He fumbled with a condom and then he was up against Lo’s rear with his hips.  Lo felt his huge heft – not of his cock, but of his stomach – flop down on her lower back.  He was slapping up against her with his hips.

“Hey, slow down,” said Lo.  “Are you even in?” she asked, moving her right hand behind her, under his giant beer belly, to grab his pecker and point it in the right direction.

When she finally got ahold of it, she was like, “Wait, is this it?”

“I, I, I’m having trouble with the condom,” a deep voice replied.

“Fine, forget the condom,” said Lo.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Lo saw a tiny piece of rubber land on the floor by her feet.  It reminded her of a finger cot she once used in a science class.

She reached behind her again and felt a tiny, protruding, almost pimple-like bump.

“Is this you?” she asked.

“Yes,” came the shameful response.

“Try again,” said Lo, pulling the nub toward her.

His hips again slapped up against Lo’s ass.  Lo shrugged her shoulders.  She couldn’t feel anything.  Especially not after her first romp.  But she wasn’t going to let on.  She moaned and groaned, oohed and aaahed like she was being fucked by King Dong.  Lo’s cum-cooing turned on Meri and Meri moved her right hand under Lo to feel the tips of Lo’s tits as they lilted forward and back, swaying heavily under her as Lo was bent at a right angle, perpendicular to the wall that supported her.

“My turn,” insisted Meri.

They guy pulled “out” of Lo, even though Lo didn’t think he had even penetrated her, and followed suit with Meri.  Meri looked at Lo and Lo made a hand gesture with her thumb and index finger indicating that this guy was no more than an inch at most!

Beer Belly and Meri

Meri’s eyes rolled and then she put on the act.  “Oh yeah.  That’s it.  Fuck me!  Fuck me like the whore I am,” and so on.  She was nearly laughing and getting Lo to giggle as she hammed it up.

“Are you a bad girl?” asked the panting voice from behind her.

“Yes, so bad.”

“How bad are you?”

“I’m a dirty slut.”

“Do you have kids?” he asked.

“Yes, three sons,” she said.

“I can tell.  Your pussy is much looser than Lo’s.”

“Oh, but you fill it up so good,” she said – insulted by his comment, but still feeling superior since she knew that even if she was tight as a virgin, he still wouldn’t feel her due to his microscopic appendage, nor would she feel him.

“I bet you say that to your sons,” he said.

“Sometimes,” replied Meri, playing along, but also, truthfully with regard to her youngest.

“Yeah?  Are you a dirty whore at home?”

“I’m a dirty whore everywhere I go.”

“Tell me about it,” he said.

Lo, at this point, was growing tired with being mere window dressing, or window undressing, however the case may be, even though there were no windows and Lo was already undressed.

She rolled onto her back and then slid underneath Meri’s drooping and swaying tits until Lo was straddled by Meri’s knees.  Mr. Small was smacking away at Meri’s backside without penetrating or pleasuring any part of her pubic area.  Now Lo’s little flower spread just below Meri’s larger petals, allowing for the choice of four portals to pleasure instead of just two, but none of which were within reach of the man’s petite probe.

Meri’s nipples fell to Lo’s open mouth and Lo licked, sucked, and bit gently on them.  Meri flaunted her large, full breasts before Lo’s face, taunting her with her much larger and fuller tits, though, unlike Lo’s perky breasts, Meri’s drooped and sagged.  Lo enjoyed Meri’s matronly mammary offering, but then slid up further in order to kiss Meri’s open mouth as Lo wrapped her legs around Meri’s hips and her arms over her shoulders and held on like a marsupial.

Meri looked down at Lo’s face and laughed.

“I can’t feel him,” she whispered and Lo laughed too.

“Oooh, yeah,” said Lo, mockingly.

“Ahh, fuck me,” said Meri in the same jocular tone.

The two of them giggled as the man furiously flapped his hips forward and back like a large walrus trying to slide headlong on the sand.

“Oh, you’re so much better and bigger than my husband,” said Meri over her shoulder.

“Yeah?” asked the guy.  “Tell me about him.”

“He’s so small, I never feel him.  I haven’t had an orgasm with him in ages!  That’s why I whore around town like this,” she said, giggling in Lo’s ear.

Lo lapped it up and held onto her older, sexy, voluptuous MILF mentor with joy and delight, squirting and dribbling over her lower lips.

“Never brought you to an orgasm?”

“I didn’t say never,” Meri replied to his question.  “But so long ago that I can’t remember it.”

“That’s horrible,” he said, “why not?”

“He’s an enormous man with a small cock and as a result of all his bodily girth and lack of girth where it really matters, he can’t even get close enough to me to enter my pussy.  Every time we have sex, I end up jerking him off with just my index finger and thumb.”

Suddenly, the slapping of fat on ass stopped.  Before either Lo or Meri knew what was happening, the man had pulled up his pants and left the Cum Cube.

Lo looked at Meri, puzzled.

“Why’d he go?” she asked.

“That was Scott,” cackled Meri, squealing with delight, “my husband!”

“Nooooooooooooo!” replied Lo, shocked.

“Yes!”

“How do you know?”

“I know how my husband fucks.  I know the wheezing sound he makes when he’s overexerted himself.  I know the feeling of that tub of lard that flops over his beltline and lands on my lower back before he makes his pathetic attempt to fuck my pussy.  I know how small his dick is – it’s unusually small and almost uniquely so – and how he cannot, no matter how he tries, get it in the hole.  He’s like a horny Chihuahua trying to mount a Great Dane!  And I definitely know that brand of condoms – ‘My Size’ – that he has to import from England.”  She pointed at the condom on the floor and laughed at its pathetic diameter.

“How do you think he. . . I mean, how did he?  I was so careful about who I. . .”  Lo didn’t have the words, she was so shocked.

Meri shrugged her shoulders and said, “He has probably been tracking my internet usage.”

“No!”

“Yeah,” she assured, “he’s been suspicious of my every move ever since our failed attempt to throw him off my scent.  Your little seduction of my husband (and my three sons) seems to have backfired.  I figured he was up to something.  But now I know for sure.  He must have gotten some spyware and downloaded it onto my computer and phone.  He probably knows every pornographic website I click on, my every email and chat message, my every phone call.”

Lo looked dismayed.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“What is there to do?” replied Meri, shrugging her shoulders.  “Go home and face the consequences.”

Just then, there was a loud knock at the door of the Cum Cube.  It was not the secret code knock.  Just an insistent three bangs on the door.  Lo and Meri were startled.

“Just a minute!” Lo chimed, trying to find something to put on.

Lo was wearing just her coat.  Meri, too, put hers on as Lo opened the door.  It was the police.

“What’s going on?” asked Lo, surprised.

“Shut down.”

“What?!”

“You have to shut it down.”

“I have permission from the mayor.”

“This is on orders of the mayor.”

“I don’t understand.”
“Apparently, the press got word of this do-gooder operation of yours and a lot of people are upset about it.”

“Upset?”

“Protesting City Hall.”

“But why?”

The officer shrugged his shoulders and said, “All I know is I got to shut this operation down.”

Lola and Meri were escorted out of the Cum Cube by the men in blue, leaving behind all the paraphernalia that Lo had so meticulously arranged inside her little sex oasis: the Match, Cinder & Spark books, the magazines, the posters.

After the shutdown, the cube didn’t just go away, it was repurposed as a municipal “lactation station,” but in reality, people used it as a masturbation station.  In fact, one handsome crew of six guys sent Lo one of her favorite tribute shots – all six gay or bi men in a circle jerk over her glossy image on the cover of a magazine!

Cum Cube cumtribute pic

The Cum Cube

 

Some women happy to show Lola off.

It was late in the pandemic and people were beginning to go stir-crazy.  The government had shut down and locked down just about everything except “essential businesses.”  They kept the liquor stores open because they were considered “essential,” but gradually the government began to realize that sex is essential too.  Some countries in Europe had already had sex drive-thrus for a long time.  The idea of a sex drive-in, or “sex box,” was started in the Netherlands with their popular afwerkplek.  Or maybe it had its roots in the British TV show, “Sex Box,” where couples have sex in a box and then talk about it with the hosts.  Whatever the origins, during the pandemic the idea caught on, especially because it could be practiced relatively safely.

bikini barista

British TV show ‘Sex Box’

Lola, who had been cooped up under extremely challenging conditions (meaning, she couldn’t engage in her regular hotwife activities) read about the sex-work reforms that they were instituting in Europe.  She had already heard about American strip clubs taking the dance stage outside as well as coffee shops that featured so-called “bikini baristas.”  And she had already engaged in some outdoor dogging activities with a few select couples.  But, when she read about the sex-stalls, she got very excited.  She looked into it and collaborated with private finance and public officials and managed to get the city’s first and only experimental “conjugal cube” built and placed downtown in what otherwise would be the heart of the financial district.  However, due to the pandemic, the streets were mostly vacant but for some vagrants and other random characters.

After a couple of weeks of preparation, the cube was ready.  It wasn’t anything special to see on the outside – just an industrial style metal box with a door and ventilation.  But inside was a comfy and cozy little love pad where Lo could engage in relieving all the pent-up pressure to put out that she had while simultaneously providing an outlet for others with similarly pent-up passions to penetrate, pulsate, and please themselves and Lola out in public.

Advertising

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked Lo as she was busy diddling herself to dreamland.

“So sure.”

“You’ll fuck any Tom, Dick, and Harry that comes to your cube?”

“Well, hopefully it won’t be too many hairy dicks, but I want them all to cum in my cube to me.  Yes, I think that’s the perfect name for it too! – the Cum Cube.”

“Is that what you’re thinking about right now?”

I saw that she was looking at some cumtributes she recently received on her phone, which she held before her eyes with her left hand while her right hand was otherwise engaged in the self-pleasuring between her legs.

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure you won’t get arrested for this?”

“I have the assurance of the mayor!”

“Wow.  The pandemic has really turned our world topsy-turvy.”

She was no longer listening to me because the full fury of her self-inflicted orgasm had overtaken her cognitive and physical functioning.

Lola’s Cum Cube

A Woman’s Touch

Lola came home from the sperm donation clinic in a very horny mood, as you might expect.  She told me all about it as I pounded her from the top, her legs spread, both hands down between her legs spreading her pussy as wide as it would go, inserting her eight fingers on either side of my cock in order to feel as full as possible, and squirting nearly continuously the entire time, soaking the bed and me.

Lola Bed Spreading panties on

Lola Bed Spreading no panties

When we were done and she had caught her breath, she relayed a little coda to the story.  When she returned inside the clinic to grab her coat, she spoke to the receptionist about the possibility of. . . well, you know what?  I don’t want to spoil the surprise, so I’ll just cut to the next time Lo met Terence at the clinic.  Oh yes, there was a next time.  Did you think there wouldn’t be?

They met in front of the clinic just like the first time.  She greeted him, taking his hand in hers, standing on tiptoe, giving him a kiss.  In the cold air, their breath created a small cloud before their faces.  She let him see her breasts under her coat.  This time she was wearing a turquoise blouse.  It wasn’t transparent, but it was thin.  No bra.  Hard nipples in the winter chill.  He liked what he saw.  They entered the clinic and were greeted by a different, yet also attractive, receptionist.

The Masturbatorium Staff, Ellie, second from right in front.

Terence gave his name, received the specimen cup, and was told to proceed to room #3 again.  Lo said, “Wait here,” as she removed her coat and hung it up on the coat rack, just like last time.  She rejoined her companion and they walked together into the collection room.  This time Terence was immediately set on his heels by two framed posters of Lola hanging on the white walls of the small room.  They were exactly where the posters by Roy Stuart hung last time they were in room #3.  The poster right in front of them was of Lo, bent over, heaps of cum dribbling out of her well-used pussy.  The second poster was to their left and it was nearly all a classic black-and-white.  Lo was lying on her back, her legs spread, copious cum dripping out of her pussy, as her manicured fingers rubbed her clit and her other hand played with her nipples.  The poster was artistically accented with the pink of her fingernails and the pearls of her bracelet popping in color against the desaturated shades of grey.

Lola Poster

Lola Poster Cream Pie

“Is, is, is that who I think it is?” asked Terence.

Lola smiled mischievously.  “Who do you think it is?”

“I think it’s you.”

“You would be correct.  Do you like?”

“Very much,” he said, nearly panting.  “But. . . ?”

“Remember, last time, when I asked what you thought of the poster and you said. . .”

“Oh, I remember,” he interrupted.  Lola didn’t need to remind him.

“Well, I just thought the place could use a little bit of a woman’s touch.  You know?”

“But how did you. . . ?”

“I just flirted with the girl behind the desk a little and then asked her for a favor.”

“Really?”

“Yep.  Apparently it’s pretty popular.”

“Your poster?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“You see, it has the name of the blog on it?”

“Oh yeah.”

“A number of guys who have jacked off in this very room have contacted me.”

“Why?”

“To send me cumtributes of course.”

“A cumtribute?”

Lo couldn’t believe his naïveté.

“A cumtribute is a photo that a man or woman, or sometimes a couple or more, take where they show themselves getting off to my pics.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised.  “Do people do that?”

“A lot of people.”

Tribute photo from Purple’s Gem

“It’s like a kink?”

“Yes.  You have your kinks, they have theirs.”

“I could probably learn to like that kink.”

“I don’t think it would take you too long to learn.”

“I’m a quick study.”

“Speaking of kinks, let’s indulge in yours.  Ready?”

“Um, yeah!”

Lo put on the latex gloves and this time she had Terence undo and pull down his pants while she lubed up her right hand.

He sat down again and she grabbed his drooping cock in her palm.

“What does HH think of it?”

“Of what?” she asked, looking at him in his face as she absent-mindedly stroked his flaccid meat.

“Of, well, of your poster being up here.  He knows, doesn’t he?”

“Actually, no.  I didn’t tell him.”

“You didn’t tell him?!”

“It slipped my mind.”

“How does a thing like that slip your mind?”

Lola looked down, studying the project at hand.  He was growing, but still not hard.

“I guess I was busy with other things.”

“Does he know about the cumtributes?”

“Oh yeah.  I mean, he knows that I get them.  I suppose he doesn’t know about the ones I received recently from, well, from this room.”

Ellie reading from Match, Cinder & Spark to Terence while she coaxes his cum for a donation

Lola thought of all the guys who had jacked off in this room, jacked off looking at her poster, and the handful of them who had sent her photographic evidence of it.  It turned her on.  It probably turned her on more than Terence was turned on at the moment.

The Donation Station

“He knows you’re here with me right now, doesn’t he?”

“Oh yes.  I made sure of it.”

“What does that mean?”

“I like to tease.  I told him what I was going to do, where I was going to do it and with whom.”

“But he didn’t know that I’d be staring at your naked photos.”

“They don’t seem to be doing the trick.”

“Sorry,” he said, blushing.  “I guess I’m talking too much.”

“Oh, it’s ok.  I like talking. . . about me.”

“Did you pick out the photos?” he asked, looking at them again.

“I did.”

“Why did you choose these?”

“Well, the director specifically instructed Courtney. . .”

“Courtney?”

“The cute brunette behind the reception desk last time.”

“Oh, I know Courtney.”

Courtney

“I’m sure you do.  Anyhow, through her the director was very clear that I was only allowed to put up photos of myself if they included cum in them.”

“In them, or in you?” he asked.

“In, on, whatever.  What do you think of this one?” she asked, pointing to the small framed photo of her bent over in her tight latex pants with a puddle of cum on her ass.

Lola Cum Covered

“I’m hard already!”

“Yes,” she said as she looked at his erect cock, “finally.”

She stroked him as she watched how his stomach muscles flexed.  She added, “I guess the director knew that seeing a woman with cum on and in her can act as a form of encouragement.  I read somewhere. . . now where was it?  Oh yes, in the book Insatiable Wives – have you ever read it?”

“No, I’ve never heard of it.”

“Oh, it’s a great read.  It’s about, well, about hotwives, like me.”

“I’ll pick it up.”

 

 

 

 

Insatiable Hotwife Lola

“Anyhow, I read in that book that studies show men who see other men – or was it apes? – anyhow, males, let’s just say, who see other males fornicating with a female produce more sperm.  I think that’s why the director wanted sperm included in the pictures.”

“Makes sense.”

“Do you feel like you’re going to produce more sperm today?” she asked, looking down again at her hand pumping his hard, but hardly explosive cock.

“To tell you the truth. . .”

“Yes?”

“I’m really enjoying this.”

“Enjoying what?”

“You, touching me, talking to me while you fondle my cock and balls.”

Lo grabbed his left arm with her free hand and turned it to see his wristwatch.  “You’ve got about fifteen minutes.  You going to make it to the finish line?”

“Oh yeah.  I will.  You do this to HH?”

“Frequently.”

“How frequently?”

“Whenever I’m on my period.”

“You going to do it to him tonight?”

“Not if you take your full half hour to cum.  I’ll be getting a wrist massage,” she said, pausing in her pursuit of his happiness and grabbing the lube to lube up her left hand.

“Oh, sorry.  Maybe I should just get down to business,” he said, contritely.

“What will make you cum and cum quickly?”

“Well, if I could see your tits.”

“I guess you can’t see my tits in this poster, huh?”

“Nope.”

“But you can in this one.”

“Yes, but only in black-and-white.”

“OK then.  But my hands must remain sterile, so can you unbutton my blouse?”

“My pleasure!”

Slowly he undid each button, one-by-one, as she continued to manipulate his joystick in her slippery, gloved hand until the two sides of the blouse were hanging freely, as were her breasts.

“Beautiful,” he sighed.

“You like?”

“Yes.  God yes.”

She moved closer to him so the nipple of her left breast was a mere finger’s breadth from his lips.

“You may kiss, if you like.”

“And suck?”

“And suck.”

He latched on and she enjoyed it.  She released a long, guttural moan and the sound of her pleasure brought him to climax.  Unfortunately, Lo was lost in the sensation of his warm lips on her still chilly breast and didn’t immediately react to the ejaculation by having the collection cup ready.  He came on her.  On her stomach and on her black skirt.  Once she felt his hot cum making a mess, she jumped and fumbled with the jar.  She managed to collect just a fraction of the total discharge.  It would have to do.

She sealed up the cup and removed her gloves.  She used her index and middle fingers of her right hand to swipe up a good amount of the ejaculate on her torso and she slowly opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and placed the dollop in her mouth.  She swallowed and smiled.

“No one needs to know,” she said with a wink.

She buttoned up, wiped off her stained skirt, and walked to the receptionist’s desk.  She gave the cute receptionist the jar and grabbed her coat.

“Oh, Ms. Down,” said the receptionist, just as Lola was putting her arm through the crook in Terence’s arm to walk out together.

“Yes?”

“The director asked if you would kindly stop in to see him before you go.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Gladly,” she said.  “I mean, if that’s ok with you, darling,” she added to Terence, as if they were a couple.

“The director!  But of course!” he said with great enthusiasm.  “I will miss you at home,” he added, leaning in for a passionate kiss before parting ways.

Are you hear to donate?

Digital Inspiration

It appears that word got out about Lola’s “immoral support” of Ted, the “known donor” for our friends Gina and Cam.  You see, a while back Lo “encouraged” Ted’s selfless sperm donation.  I’m pleased to say that the process eventually proved successful.  Gina and Cam are now the proud parents of a baby boy!

They are so proud that they have told a wide circle of friends and acquaintances all about the method by which they got pregnant, including Lo’s special role in it.  One morning, out of the blue, as Lo was scrolling through her long list of long dongs, micro penises, clits and tits to get herself off, she got a message from a stranger.  That’s not too uncommon, but this stranger knew our friends Gina and Cam and he had an unusual request.

His name was Terence and he was a man in his mid-thirties.  Like most of Cam and Gina’s friends, he wasn’t straight, but he wasn’t out as gay either.  He, like Lola, identified as “queer.”  But he wasn’t just queer, he had a downright perverted side to him.  There were a lot of things that he enjoyed doing to get himself off, but I’ll let those unfold as we get to them.  At this point, the one kink that he revealed to Lo was pertinent to the ask he had of her.

“I go to the sperm bank regularly to make a donation,” he said.

That’s quaint, thought Lo, as first.  A good Samaritan who, like a blood donor, gives of himself for others.  Not quite.  It turns out he likes to go there in order to wank in a public setting.  He likes the thought that the receptionist knows that he is jerking off in the room next to her.

This revelation really turned Lo on.  She had never thought of that possibility before.  Whenever she had thought of a sperm bank, which, given Lo’s predisposition for naughty imaginings she had thought of on occasion, she only thought of guys going in there embarrassed, a little humiliated, and bashful.  She hadn’t entertained the idea of a quasi-exhibitionist being turned on by the thought of everyone knowing from the outset what his particular purpose for visiting the clinic is and that, when done, they all know for certain what he had just accomplished.

She was intrigued, to say the least, and she carried on a lengthy correspondence with him.  He told her that he had been doing this on a regular basis at the same collection clinic for months now.  He also mentioned that – by design or happy coincidence – all the nurses at this clinic are very attractive and that he had built a special rapport with one of them named Ellie.

He told Lo how Ellie always works the closing shift.  For convenience, the collection clinic is open from 8:00 a.m. to 9:30 p.m.  They found that they get more people willing to donate after work hours.  She is the only staff on site, except for the security guard, after five.  He had made it a regular habit to donate when she’s working and she has taken some liberties with the rules.  It started out that he noticed her flirting with him.  Then, one week, he found a photo of her on the top of the pile of magazines.  Each week the photo she placed there got a little bit more risqué.  One week, when he exited the collection station room, he apologized to her and said, “I made a little mess.  I missed the target and spilled some semen on your, I mean, the photo in there.”

She gave him a knowing look.  He imagined, but couldn’t confirm, that she went into the room after and got the cum-covered glossy photo of herself and did something with it.  The next week he found she had left a nude photo of herself.  He made sure to make a mess of that too and apologize again.

Within the month, she was in the collection room with him, jerking him off.  She began by merely stroking him.  But then it progressed to her stroking him and reading passages from books and blogs.  At one point, she read to him from Match, Cinder & Spark.  She was already familiar with Lola and me because we had written about her in the post, “Triangles of Sadness.”  After she broke up with Steven, she actually became infatuated with Lola, even though Lola was the cause of her breakup.

Ellie & Steve before the breakup

It was a small world because she also read the story about Lola: “ICI – Home Insemination with a Known Donor.”  Terence realized that this Lola Down was the same person that his friends Cam and Gina had told him about.  Now he had her email address (through the blog) and he reached out to her.  Having learned about Lo’s personality, he wisely included some sexy selfies.

Terence expressed his kinky wish to Lo.  He knew that this donation clinic allowed for wives or significant others to accompany the donor in order to help with the donation process.  He wanted Lola to pose as his girlfriend for that purpose.  And, he wanted to do it during the day shift when his special nurse wouldn’t be there and so the nurses who didn’t know him would now be aware of exactly what he and Lola were up to in that room.  It was an extension and variation on his fundamental kink which was simply jerking off in a room merely a few feet from the nurse who knows what he’s doing and then seeing her face afterwards.

Perhaps unremarkably, the exotic and extravagant nature of this kink turned Lo on.  She spent many nights whispering in my ear, asking me what I thought it would be like for her to do this for Terence because, you see, Terence had just donated and so now needed to wait a couple of more weeks before he could schedule to make his deposit with Lo’s assistance.

Night-after-night she tantalized me by masturbating in the bed next to me, looking at Terence’s photos – which only got more explicit and, according to Lo, more hot, each day – and telling me the narrative of how she would like the session to go.

Lola looking at cumtributes.

Finally, the big day came – and so did Lo, many times that morning before she left our warm bed to meet Terence at the fertility clinic.

It was a bitterly cold day.  We had been in the grip of a cold-snap for two or three days already.  Lo had spent at least an hour prepping for her little lab-assistant role.  She tried on at least five different outfits, asking me each time, “What do you think about this?”  I loved each one, but as soon as I said so, she found it objectionable for some reason and started anew.  Finally, she decided on a short skirt, black nylons under it, no panties.  A black, mostly transparent, crepe blouse, no bra.  Over that incredibly hot outfit, she draped her long, heavy white coat and put on her knee-high leather boots.

Lo getting dressed for “work”

I was desperate to have her.  Every outfit change, she stripped back down to nothing at all and it was too much for me to bear.  I was hard and suffering and she made me sit through the entire process.  Not that I was complaining, but it was a form of sexual torture.

She left me high and dry with the instruction that under no circumstances, was I to masturbate.  That is pretty much a standing rule, but she knew how hot she had made me for her and she knew she’d want all that pent-up energy for herself upon her return.

Just like that she was off!  She was to meet Terence at the clinic.  Separate cars.  This was not a date.  Lo was very clear about that.  This was a clinical assistance project.

Whatever she wanted to call it, she arrived before Terence.

Lo waited in the car.  She could see her breath as she waited.  She touched herself between her legs, gently stroking over the nylons.  She liked the feel of the nylon as it rubbed against her pussy and clit.  She was getting wet.  Her warm wetness and the dropping temperature in the car was stimulating her between her legs.  She knew she wouldn’t be able to wait much longer.  Either he had to arrive or she’d have to “go all the way” with herself.

She saw Terence walking in the parking lot.  “Good,” she thought, “because any longer and I’d cum right here and who knows?  Maybe I’d squirt and it would freeze!”

Lo practically leapt out of the car and met him.

“Hey,” she said, trying to play it cool.

“Hi.”

It was awkward, but only for a moment.  Lola grabbed his hand.  “We’re supposed to be a couple, right?”

“Right,” he said.

They walked together into the clinic.  They stopped at the reception desk.  Terence flashed a cordial but gregarious smile at the woman sitting behind counter.  He introduced himself and said that he had an appointment for noon.  The woman typed something into her computer and then smiled back.

“Yes, room three,” she said, looking at Lola who had opened her long white coat to reveal the transparent blouse underneath it.  For a brief moment, Lola thought she had overplayed her hand.  The receptionist typed something into her computer and then looked up at Terence and Lo.  She said, “Ah yes, I see you have already entered the information about your service assistant.”

Lo tried to smile politely at the woman, but she felt as if “service assistant,” sounded too much like “service dog.”  But then Lo’s mind went to that kinky area (which is about 99% of her mind) and she began to think what it would be like to have a “service dog” to service her in the manner that she was about to service Terence.  Lo was already getting wet.  Or, wetter, I should say.

The receptionist passed a collection jar to Terence and also passed him an individual sized, complementary miniature tube of special lube that would not contaminate the collection sample.

“Do you need instructions?” she asked as she handed the lube to Terence.

“No, I’ve been here before.”

The receptionist gave him a knowing look and then went back to her typing.

Terence casually led Lo down the white, sterile hallway and to room three.  All along the hall were posters of Roy Stuart’s photos.  Terence opened the door and let Lo in like a gentleman.  In the little white room was a sink, a small white shelf next to it, a comfortable chair, a small TV screen with a CD player, some porno mags under the TV and more framed Roy Stuart posters on the walls.  Lo also noticed a large, coffee table book by one of her favorite photographers, Sabrina Dacos.

Roy Stuart Photography

Roy Stuart “Glimpse”

Sabrina Dacos Selfie

Sabrina Dacos tits and shaved snatch

Lo looked around, taking it all in.  She was even more excited now as she imagined all the men who had been in this room and what they were doing there.  Sex, in all its permutations and manifestations, holds a perpetual allure for Lo.

One thing that Lo’s keen observation of the room and its objects didn’t see was a coat rack for her white overcoat.

“You sit down.  Get comfortable,” she said to Terence.  “I’m going to find a place to hang up my coat.”

She turned back around and went out to the receptionist.

“Excuse me,” she said as politely as she could, “but is there a place for me to hang my coat?”

The receptionist pointed her down a different hallway.  “Just to your left,” she said.

Lo walked down that hallway and, to her surprise, she saw framed posters lining it with images by David Hamilton.

David Hamilton’s Laura

Art by David Hamilton

She saw a line of coat hangers along the far wall and she hung up her coat.  Walking back towards the receptionist – the building was shaped like an ‘L,’ with the receptionist at the intersection of the two perpendicular wings – she said, “I didn’t know you had a children’s section.”

The receptionist looked up, blank-faced.  She saw Lo’s prominent breasts, nearly naked, just under the loose-fitting sheer black blouse.  She merely opened her mouth, making a little pout with her lips.  Lo wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she took it as a compliment and walked past her proudly.

Lo breezed by a single man in the hallway who was also on his way to a different room.  Lo made clear and unambiguous eye contact with him.  However, his eyes quickly looked down and settled on Lo’s tits.  Lo could understand the allure to both working there and going there as an exhibitionist like Terence.  There was something exciting and stimulating for Lo knowing that the man she passed in the hall was either about to go jack off or had just finished.  And it excited her for him to know that she was roaming the hallway in search of stimulating some eager altruist ready to selflessly give his essence to some needy couple.  Lo walked briskly, keenly anticipating her part to play with Terence.

Terence was now sitting in the chair.  Lo looked at him.  He smiled at the sight of her in the blouse.  Lo had expected he would be naked, or at least pantless by this point, but he was just sitting there, clothed as he was when Lo went down the hall.  He also wore a wide grin on his face, staring at her tits and then her eyes and back to her tits.

“So,” said Lo, “how do you want to do this?”

“I guess, if you just unzip me, pull me out, lube me up, and I’ll take it from there,” he said.

Lo pulled out two sterile latex gloves from the box on the counter next to the Sabrina Dacos book.  She put them on and then unbuttoned Terence’s pants, unzipped the fly, pulled them down around his ankles.  He was already hard and bulging from under his tight white underwear.

Lo pulled down the underwear and his long, thick dick sprung out like a Jack-in-the-Box.  Lo marveled at its size, shape, and apparent eagerness to donate.

“You like?” he asked.

“MmmmHmmmm,” she moaned.  Her face was only inches away from the specimen and, had they been in another setting, she would have taken the meat in her mouth with relish.  But she could not do that, lest the donation become contaminated and useless.

“Anything in particular that will help you?”

“Can you get naked?”

“No,” said Lo, as if offended.  “This is not for pleasure.  This is a selfless act of generosity to both science and humanity.”

What a load of malarkey!  Did she actually believe that?  No.  It was part of the game.

“Then,” he said a bit disappointed, “can you at least stand close to me?”

In point of fact, she was actually standing right next to him.  He sat.  She leaned over and held his cock in her gloved hand.  She was bouncing it on her fingers to see just how rigid, weighty, and stiff it was.  Then she put a heaping dab of the lube in her palm.  She slowly applied the lube to his shaft, deliberately stroking up-and-down, base-to-tip, a few times before setting to work in earnest.  She began vigorously jerking him off.

“A little slower,” he requested politely.

She shifted into a lower gear.

“Like this?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Your tits.”

“Say more.”

“I want to suck them and lick them.  Those nipples under your blouse – God!  They look amazing.”

She leaned in a little further so that the apex of her breasts were mere centimeters from his lips.

“How long does it typically take you to cum?” she asked.

“I masturbate a lot,” he said.

“That’s ok.”

“So it takes me nearly the full half-hour.”

The rooms were assigned by half-hour increments, but the staff preferred if donors were faster so they had proper time to clean up and disinfect each room when done.

When he said this, Lola took it as a personal challenge.  How quickly could she get this compulsive masturbator to ejaculate?

“When’s the last time you came?” she asked.

“This morning.”

“What?!  I thought they only allow you to donate once every two weeks because if you did it more often it lowers the sperm count.”

“Yeah, that’s a dumb rule, isn’t it?” he said, looking at Lo, their eyes and mouths very close.  “I mean, they can’t monitor or control what happens at home.”

“What did you cum to this morning?” she asked.

“Thinking about you doing this.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“And, in your imagination as you were at home in bed jacking off, what did you think would happen?”

“Can I tell you the truth?”

“Yes, please!”

“I was jacking off in bed next to my sleeping wife.”

“Your wife?!” asked Lo, still stroking up-and-down, “You’re married?”

“Yes.  You didn’t know that?” he said, looking directly at her now.

“No, I didn’t know anything about you except that you heard about me through Gina and Cam and what you’ve told me.”

“Are you upset?”

“No, not at all.  Why should I be?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe you think I’m a perverted, sleazy, creep.”

“Why would I think that?  Because you’re married and go to a sperm bank to get off and you masturbate in bed next to your sleeping wife?”

“Well, uh, yeah.  When you put it that way.”

“Don’t.  Everyone has their kinks, their quirks, their turn-ons and offs.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“I mean, I know that, but you don’t think bad of me because of it?”

“Of course not.  In fact, it turns me on that you were jerking off next to her.”

“It does?”

“Yes,” she said, adding pressure to her grip and speed to her stroke.  “It will turn me on more if you told me what you were thinking about as you did it.”  She brought it back to this because he was losing his hard-on with all the conversation.

“I was thinking that you’d get naked and let me feel your body, maybe let me suck your tits, and. . .”

“Now, now,” said Lo, putting a damper on his hopes, “that would be against the rules.”

In point of fact, there were no rules other than not contaminating the sample by coaxing it out either orally or vaginally.  But no rules were in force to stop Lola from getting naked.  She just liked enforcing arbitrary rules.

“Too bad,” he said.

“What do you think of that?” asked Lo, indicating the Roy Stuart poster in front of them.

Terence glanced up at the brunette in the frame and then looked deep into Lola’s eyes and simply said, “I wish it was you.”

That little comment put an idea in Lo’s head and she felt herself gushing from the thought of it.

She started moaning as if she were the one receiving the erotic massage and the auditory stimulation really got Terence going.

“Are you wet?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You like stroking me?”

“Mmmmm, so much.”

“You want to see me cum?”

She just bit down on her lower lip and this was enough to bring Terence to the brink.

“Quick!  The specimen jar!”

Lo grabbed it as Terence took matters in his own hands and aimed right at the small target.  Out came loads and loads of cum – more than Lo had ever seen before in one orgasm.  If she was gushing just a moment ago, now she was a full-on leaky labiator.

“FUUUUUUCK!” cried out Terence, certainly loud enough for the receptionist to hear.

“That’s a boy,” encouraged Lo, dropping to her knees as if wanting desperately to be the receptacle for his deposit, as if worshiping his cock and potency, as if weak in her knees from the visual excitement.

When he was done, he cleaned up the bit he spilled or dribbled down his leg and then he pulled up his pants, zipped up, tucked in his shirt, and made himself generally presentable.

Lo and Terence emerged from room #3 and walked to the reception desk.  Terence dropped off the collection container and the receptionist looked up without any expression on her face.

“All set,” said Terence.

“All set,” the receptionist replied with a polite smile.

Lo was holding Terence’s hand as if she was his girlfriend.  She returned the polite smile to the receptionist and the two of them walked out into the freezing cold.  Lo’s nipples became like diamond cutters immediately and she squeezed Terence’s hand and said, “You go on home.  I forgot my coat!”  She gave him a loving kiss, open-mouthed, and squeezed his hand before turning around and going back into the clinic.

Terence waited a bit in the parking lot, but when Lo didn’t come back out for a while, he figured he’d better drive away before he looked like he was stalking her, or someone else at the clinic.  After all, his car was on, the windows were fogging up, and it was clear from the exhaust that he was just idling in the parking lot outside the front doors of the sperm donation site.

Send Lo your cumtribute.

“This is my body, given for you.”

“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

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)

“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

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.

Food for Thought

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.”