Masturbation Monday: Creative Writing and Performance Art

Posted on July 3, 2017 by Lola Down

Creative Writing and Performance Art

I heard her typing as she sat across the couch from me, but I also heard her moaning.

“Lo,” I asked, looking over the brim of my book, “what are you up to?”

“Oh nothing, Daddy,” she said, but the biting of her lip that followed her response belied her words.

Now I looked more carefully. Her hand was shifting from her computer keyboard to her crotch. (She reclined on the couch in just her oversized nightshirt.)

“Care to share?” I asked.

“In just a moment,” she said, typing and masturbating in turn.

When she finally came – pressing her legs together tightly so as not to ejaculate – she slammed the laptop closed and then looked at me, blushing and panting.

“Yes?” I inquired. “Can I help you?”

“You sure can,” she said, getting up and commanding me from her standing position to march into the bedroom. She lifted the shirt that draped over her butt, revealing her sweet ass to me as she wiggled it enticingly.

I placed my bookmark between the pages and got up, knowing I was expected to perform. Lo’s masturbatory exercises are more often than not just a warm-up for sex and her two or three orgasms that result from the sex are just a warm-up for her next masturbatory session. In logic we call it a ‘vaginal-circle.’

Once horizontal in the bed, I asked her what this was all about as I aligned my cock with the opening between her legs and began to slide in.

“Don’t you believe in foreplay anymore?” she asked as she squeezed her tits and pulled on her nipples, extending them as far as they would stretch.

“What was your solo session on the couch just now if not foreplay?”

“Look,” she said, very demandingly, “look at these.” She indicated her chest by taking her tits in her hands and squeezing them hard and pointing her nipples at me. “Many men – and women – would love this rack in their face.”

“I see,” I said, impressed by her impertinence. “And you too seem to enjoy them – enough for both of us!”

“Well, what are they for if not enjoying? Here,” she said, pulling my hands to her nipples, “pinch, twist, pull. Repeat.”

I humored her for a while as she moaned. My fondling her breasts freed up her hands to pinch, twist, pull and repeat on her pussy lips – something that gets her very aroused.

“You may pet my ass now,” she said, rolling onto her tum and raising her bum in the air.

I slapped her ass hard and said, “That’s so you’ll come to your senses.”

“I cum to a lot of things. Cumming to my senses is one, but cumming to your cock is more fun.”

“Then let me have you.”

“No. Not just yet, Daddio. Play with my ass,” she implored, grabbing her ass cheeks with both hands and showing me exactly the spot she wanted touched. I obliged. “Mmmm, yeah,” she cooed. “I wish you could take a picture of that so I could see it.”

“You need one of those extension poles people carry with them nowadays,” I said, not knowing the proper terminology.

“It’s called a selfie stick.”

“Selfie stick? Don’t you have a few of those under the bed?”

“Ha!” she chuckled, “Don’t make me laugh. Not now. I want to. . .” She came, squirting downward on the bed. The combination of the gentle caress of my finger rounding her target and laughing broke the dam. “Finger me, Daddio. Feel how wet I am.”

“Lo, I see how wet you are. Let me feel you with my cock. I’ll put in my dipstick and give you a more accurate reading of your fluids.”

“Oh, Daddy. Why do you use such horrid metaphors?”

“Because, my dear, you’re like a BMW – it’s not the price, it’s the maintenance that will get you.”

“OK,” she said, flipping over onto her back, spreading her legs wide, looking up at me. “How can I deny that raging rod? Get in me and I’ll tell you what I was up to on the couch.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. I was stem-to-stern in, our faces cheek-to-jowl. She whispered in my ear:

Another hotwife found our blog and reached out to me. She’s married to a fifty-year-old and she’s in her thirties. She’s ‘very bi,’ as she says, and eager to be with a woman again. And not just any woman, but a woman like me – dominant, sub, sexy, femme, who can give and take a giant cock. She wants us to get together and I was just telling her how I fantasize it would happen. After drinks in a hotel lobby, we’d go up to the hotel room. Since her man is older than you (twice my age, in fact) and you’re older than she and she’s older by ten years than I, the three of you would marvel at me – this young meat. You’d all be salivating, wondering who would get to have me first. But I would have it all planned out.

In the hotel room I’d stand still in my heels, blouse, and short skirt. I’d tell you that each of you gets to remove one article of clothing. Only one. We’d go in age order – youngest to oldest – and so she’d begin by slowly unbuttoning my blouse as I stood stone still. One-by-one she’d undo the buttons until my blouse was wide open and then she’d slowly undo the buttons of the cuffs and ever-so-gently guide my arms out of the sleeves until I was standing in nothing but my bra on top.

Then it would be your turn. You’d look me up and down and consider, ‘Shoes? Blouse? Bra?’ Generous guy that you are, you’d let them have the choice articles, so you’d go for unzipping my blouse and letting it fall to the floor around my feet. I’d continue to be unmoving, like a manikin.

Then the older gent would have to pick – bra or panties? Being a gentleman, he’d go for the bra and carefully unclasp it from the back. His trembling hands would slowly, reverently pull down my shoulder straps and, thinking the bra would fall, he’d step back to watch his handiwork. But I’d use my arms to keep it up so that he’d have to tug on it a bit to get it fully off of my torso.

Then it would be her turn again and she’d get on her knees and, using her long, delicate fingers, she’d pull down my thong little-by-little until it fell around my ankles.

I’d continue to stand still and say, in the same order, you may touch, pull, squeeze, grope, kiss – whatever you want. It would all be very Marina Abramovic. It would be your turn and so you’d come right up to me and kiss me on the lips, whispering, ‘I love you.’

Then it would be his turn and, thoroughly loving my young, perky tits, he’d cup them, caress them, hold them, squeeze them, pull on the nipples. He’d step back, letting his wife approach. She’d again get down on her knees and she’d ever-so-slightly kiss my pussy as her hands reached behind me and grabbed my ass.

This would go on for some time as each of you enjoy whichever part of me you wish. Then I’d say, ‘Put me on the bed.’ The three of you would lift me and smoothly place me on my back on the bed. I’d spread my legs and, since it would be her turn, I’d call her to me to place her face there and eat me out.

Next it would be your turn and you would go in, but only for a moment, before I’d say, ‘That’s all for you, HH.’

Then it would be his turn. He would be allowed to penetrate me, but he’d have to wear a condom that his wife would put on – her hands pulling the ring down the shaft of his cock and pointing him right into me. He’d have a good go at me for a while.

After each of you had a turn with me on my back, I’d turn over and get on all fours. By this time she would have her strap-on fully in place and she’d fuck me good and hard from behind. Then it would be your turn again, and finally his. I’m sure I’d cum multiple times through this exquisite torture. Finally, when I felt I couldn’t take it any longer, I’d flip over onto my back again and I’d have her get on her knees at the foot of the bed and eat me out while the two of you jacked it over my open mouth until you both came over me in unison.

The whole time she was telling me this story, I was barely moving inside her for fear of interrupting her lovely imaginings with my orgasm. But that didn’t stop her from cumming and cumming again, each time having to take deep breaths before continuing her story.

“Is that what you were writing?”

“Yes, Daddy. I know I’m bad.”

“And this admirer of yours?”

“She told me it made her cum a lot.”

“So, she wants to get together?”

“Yes.”

“And him?”

“I assume so.”

“And you?”

“I can’t wait.”

“So, this is your way of asking permission?”

“No, this is my way of telling you what’s going to happen.”

“So you want me to cum on your face.”

“Yes. Badly.”

“Now.”

“Always.”

“That would prove difficult. How about we start with now?”

“Yes.”

I pulled out and got on my knees next to her and she reached up, grabbed my cock, stroked it and it only needed one or two caresses of her hand before, seeing her open mouth, I shot like a bottle rocket. The first spurt went clear across the bed. She readjusted the aim and pulled my cock down towards her face and managed to get covered with the second, third, and fourth rounds.

“Had your fill?” I asked as she began to clean up.

“Did I ever tell you my bukkake fantasies?”

“Lo, I’m not up for any more fantasies tonight,” I said.

She grabbed my limp dick and said, “I can see that. That’s why I have bukkake fantasies,” and she reached under the bed to pull out her toy box.

Sea of Porn

Posted on June 26, 2017 by Lola Down

Sea of Porn

It’s hot. It’s humid. It’s February and we’re on vacation – an escape from the winter wonderland of our northern home. Lying out by the pool, I admire the scenery, much to Lo’s consternation.

There’s a DJ who’s also doubling as the MC for the spring-break crowd. He has the limbo bar set up and is spinning “Limbo Rock” as the scantily-clad bikini babes and the sculpted bros do their annual mating dance under it.

Every limbo boy and girl
All around the limbo world
Gonna do the limbo rock
All around the limbo clock

“Enjoying the Bimbo Rock?” Lo asks me, her voice dripping with derision. She glances at me as she asks, but I see her taking in the eye-candy as well.

Jack be limbo, Jack be quick
Jack go unda limbo stick
All around the limbo clock
Hey, let’s do the limbo rock

Limbo lower now
Limbo lower now
How low can you go?

“They’re playing your song,” I say to her. “They’re calling your name, ‘Hey Lo – how low can you go?”

First you spread your limbo feet
Then you move to limbo beat
Limbo ankolimboneee
Bend back like a limbo tree

Jack be limbo, Jack be quick
Jack go unda limbo stick

“I’ll tell you what,” she says to me, looking over the rim of her dark sunglasses, “I’ll spread my limbo legs and you give me your limbo stick, and I’ll show you just how low Lo can go.” As she says it, she spreads her legs wide on the reclining chair.

“That’s sounds great,” I reply, “but first, let’s just see who wins, ok?”

“Grrrrrrr,” she says in frustration at my intentional taunt. “Get me a beer, Daddio,” she commands.

“Sure, do you want it in a glass?”

“Yes, please. But pour it right! I don’t want any head.” She paused. “I’ll be giving head later. . . in bed. That’s the only head I want.”

“I can’t wait,” I reply.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she barbs back, “I’ve got my eye on a few likely candidates.”

Later, up in the hotel room, she asks me, “Did you have fun at the pool, dear?”

“Yes – I particularly enjoyed making you jealous.”

“Well, you do a good job of it.”

“It’s not hard at all.”

“It looked pretty hard to me.”

“I’m going to take a shower,” I say.

“Fine,” she says, turning up her nose at me since she apparently took my choice of shower as a snub of her. But there she’s wrong. I just like to be clean and fresh for her.

“You know Lo,” I say before going into the bathroom, “I only have eyes for you.”

Lo ignores this and simply looks at her phone. “Oh, look at that,” she says to me, “A friend of mine just posted that he thinks that his girlfriend looks like Beyoncé.”

“So what? He’s in love?”

“Aren’t you in love? You say I remind you of Lucille Ball!”

“Don’t forget Bugs Bunny!”

“Bugs Bunny?! Really?! Why not at least Jessica Rabbit?”

“You talk like Jessica Rabbit, but you act like Bugs Bunny.”

“Great. That’s love.”

I hop in the shower. When I come out, I find Lo on the bed, naked, her legs spread, one hand holding her phone and one stroking her puss.

“Tell me what you want,” she says to me without even looking at me.

“No, you tell me what you want,” I respond.

This is a familiar game of ours, especially when she’s both mad at me and horny.

“Do you want me?” she asks, seductively.

“Do you want me?” I echo.

“Say it,” she demands.

“No, you,” I say, not willing to give in first.

“Tell me what you want,” she pleads, still stroking herself and pulling at her pussy lips.

“Not till you do first,” I protest.

“I want you to tell me you want me,” she says.

“There you go! You said it!” I declare, victorious.

“Said what?”

“You said, ‘I want you.’”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“You know, Lo, I love you too much.”

“Why do you say you love me too much?”

“Because I let you off too easily and you get off too easily,” I say as I slowly slide inside her. She’s dripping wet and very loose. She moans as I slip in. Her phone is still in her left hand and she looks at it as I hold her naked body tightly. Her right hand is still over her clit and she rubs it as I thrust.

“Stay deep. Just stay deep,” she orders.

I obey. Her hips slightly gyrate up and down as her fingers quickly pulse on her clit. She cums within seconds. Her thighs clench so tightly she squeezes me out unintentionally.

“Sorry,” she manages to whisper as she climaxes.

“You just used me to get off.” I protest. “You just masturbated with me inside you. I was completely incidental to your orgasm.”

“No, Daddio, you were instrumental to it. Now flip me over and do me from behind.”

I obey. Her phone is still in her hand in front of her now so that I can see what she’s looking at. It’s a lesbian Tumblr page.

“Do you like them?” she asks me about the women I see on her phone over her shoulder.

“It’s like a sea of porn,” I say.

She immediately shuts off her phone. “Not for you!” she says.

“Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink,” I say.

“You can have your fill of this all you want. It’s plenty wet,” she says as her free hand now slaps her ass and then fingers her puss from behind. Her other hand is still busy between her legs from the front.

Without warning, I cum and cum a lot, deep inside her. Her pussy clenches on me, hungrily. But when I’m done, she flips over and complains, “You didn’t wait for me!”

“What?” I ask, perplexed.

“Ladies first,” she reminds me.

“You did cum first.”

“Ladies first and second!”

I go to the bathroom to clean up. When I return, I find Lo looking at the porn on her phone again, jilling to it. I begin to object to this, but she holds up a finger to indicate that I should wait till she finishes. I am polite and wait. She looks up at me with a smile. “Cum often, cum a lot.”

“The Lola Down motto.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” she says.

“I thought the saying was ‘Cum early, cum often.’”

“That too. As well as, ‘Cum one, cum all.’”

“I thought that was the motto of all your blog fans.”

“That’s not their motto, that’s their modus operandi. I cum and then they all cum.”

“You know, Lo, sometimes our relationship really surprises me.”

“How’s that, Daddio?”

“Sometimes I feel like you’re the guy and I’m the gal.”

“Sounds like fun. Tell me more.”

“I mean, you get off on those prurient pics, but I. . .”

“Oh no, here it comes! Spare me your highbrow criticism.”

“I was just going to say, I like a good story, not just T-and-A.”

“Porn stars and women are human too, you know.”

“Really, women are people? Is that so?” I asked, facetiously. “Even you? I thought you were a goddess.”

“You sound like you’re making an object out of me.”

“Darling, you are first and foremost, a subject – the subject, in fact, of reams and reams of pages I’ve written about you.”

“Now you sound as though you’re fetishizing me.”

“Really? You think so?” I ask, even more facetiously. “If you haven’t noticed by now – NEWSFLASH! – you are my fetish.”

“Good grief! Freud would have a field day with you.”

“Lo, you’re all the porn I need.”

“All I’ve ever wanted to be was a good amateur.”

I lie down next to her. “You’re the best,” I say as I immediately begin to fall asleep. She complains that I’m uncomfortable to sleep on. “Your big barrel-chested torso is impossible to lie on.”

“It’s a big bed in a big room in a big hotel in a big city. . .”

“With a big jerk right in the middle of it!”

As I fall asleep, I can hear and feel her going at it again for that magic number three.

G.I. Confidential

Posted on May 29, 2017 by Lola Down

[This story was published today, in honor of Memorial Day and all those who serve, on MyErotica.com.]

G.I. Confidential

It started when he wrote an email that said simply, “Love your blog. Can I please have a password?” From that brief, shy, initial correspondence grew a virtual pen-pal connection with one of our men in uniform deployed abroad – somewhere in the deserts of the middle east. He couldn’t say where because it was confidential and who knows who was also reading those emails? But whoever was reading them was in for a tantalizing treat.

[Some images you get from a Google search of “mysexlifewithlola”]

Lo wrote back, in her flirtatious, friendly way, and soon found out much more about her G.I. fan. He was twenty-two, married, one kid. He had been deployed for two years. His wife wrote to him frequently and he loved and missed her dearly. But she sent sexy pics only on occasion, and even then, they were more suggestive than explicit. He loved her, but he dreamed about Lo. He read the blog and studied her pics. He had hotwife fantasies and wished that his own wife would send a nude pic now and then with a note saying, “Please share with your friends.” But that was beyond the realm of possibility.

Because he was so shy around women, it took him a long time to get up the courage to write to Lo requesting a password to the protected posts. Little did he know how flattered she would be. Little did he know how she secretly had a fetish for men in uniform. She encouraged frequent correspondence, but, due to his rigorous duties and the limited time he got on the internet, he could only write back very brief missives.

Even so, he complimented her, flattered her, and reported on his “down time” – his “Lola Down” time, that is. Excited to the point of bursting, Lo sent him many explicit photos with little notes like, “Please be sure to share with your bunk mates,” or “Tell all the guys with you that Lola wishes them all to be safe, strong, and hard.”

After gaining his trust, the G.I. sent Lo some pics of himself and his family. Lo thought it was sweet and that his wife was truly beautiful. He sent a pic of her on their honeymoon in Hawaii where she wore nothing but a lei. Then he sent her the address where Lo could send him actual letters and such. She sent him a signed calendar, saying, “I’ve always wanted to be a pin-up girl.” She told me after the fact.

When she received a warm thank you from him, in which he told her that he posted it by his bunk in the barracks and that all the soldiers were commenting on it, she was thrilled! When he wrote to her a week later, saying that someone had stolen it, she was even more elated. She took it upon herself not only to send her pen-pal a replacement copy, but one for every guy in his battalion.

You can imagine her delight when he wrote her the following email:

Hi Lola. All the guys say thank you for the calendars! They are envious of me because you have been like a hotwife to me. I ordered your book, Match, Cinder & Spark, (even though it’s really expensive in hardcopy!) and at night, before lights out, a bunch of us sit around on our bunks and we take turns reading HH’s stories about you. Last Sunday, we were given some R-n-R and we read the book in the morning. After reading it, five of us went to the showers. It’s one long tiled room with about fifty showerheads. The five of us were naked, under the hot showers, soaping up and very hard and horny from the story we had just read. I hope my wife never finds out about this, but as we were there, lathered and rinsing off, we all started casually grabbing at our cocks. Eventually we started jacking off. Someone grabbed the cock of the guy next to him and soon enough it was a full-fledged circle jerk. We came on each other and laughed and washed down, smacked one another’s ass, and got out of the shower much refreshed.

Pretty soon Lola was getting emails from other guys in the troop and some of them told her how they had Tumblr accounts with their wives or girlfriends on which each would post something that turned them on or pics of themselves so that it was like virtual sex. They told her that they were including Lo’s Tumblr pics so that their wives could see what they like. Lo was thrilled to be the object of the attention of those couples – her virtual three-way.

After a few months of this sort of thing, Lo encouraged her original soldier to tell his wife about mysexlifewithlola.com and loladown.tumblr.com in the hopes that she would become more adventurous in their marriage. With trepidation he did and, we’re happy to report, she opened up to him like never before, admitting to all her erotic longings, fantasies, and desires. The grateful soldier thanked Lo and eventually his correspondences with her became less and less frequent. Hopefully the hot couple is blissfully reunited by this time.

Many thanks to all our men and women in uniform serving our country!

Sexy Shorts: Scores

Posted on April 24, 2017 by Lola Down

Scores

Lying in bed at night, I’m sitting up reading a book. She’s on her back, playing with her tits – pushing them up, pulling on the nipples, looking down at them. She says, “Do you think my breasts are pretty?”

I look over at her. “Yes. Very much.” I go back to reading.

She continues contorting her boobs. “No, I mean, do you think they’re attractive?”

“Of course I do, Lo,” I say, without losing my spot on the page.

“Do you think people find them attractive?”

“What people?”

“People?”

“Like who? The people who fuck you? The people who look at you on the internet? People you meet in the street? What people are we talking about?”

“Yeah, all those people.”

“Well, Lo, judging from the number of men and women who write to you every day and send in dick picks and photos of themselves jackin’ and jillin’ to your lovely images, I think the answer has to be ‘Yes.’ Anymore questions?”

I looked back down at her – she was jillin’ it to the thought of all those people cumming to her. Not satisfied with the thought, she rolled over on her tum, pulled out her phone, and began flipping through the scores of photos sent to her by her fans until she hit on one that did the trick. She came.

“Daddy?”

“Yes Lo?”

“Don’t you want to get behind me while I do this?”

“Didn’t you already do it?”

“Don’t you want to get behind me while I do this again?”

I put down my book, got up and out of my pj bottoms, and mounted her round ass as she, on her hands and knees, looked through the fan photos again. I thought to myself, “This could go on all night.”

Her tits were hanging down, rocking forward and back with each thrust. She held herself up with her left hand as she held her right hand, palm open just below her nipples so that they’d graze against her palm as they went back and forth. She liked feeling the fullness of her breasts as they hung there. “Do you think they are saggy?” she asked me over her shoulder as she scrolled through some more pics.

“What?” I asked.

“My tits – do you think they’re sagging?”

“No, Lo. You’re on all fours, like a bitch in heat, and gravity will do its thing, you know.”

She flipped through the photos on her phone and she said, “Look, this couple here – she has very big, very saggy tits.”

Glancing over her shoulder, I could just make out what it was I saw. Luckily, I still had my reading glasses on. “They’re in their forties or fifties Lo. You’re in your twenties.”

I kept going at her as her fingers kept working their magic between her legs. “Do you think they’re attractive?” she asked.

“Who? The couple?”

“No, her tits?”

“Yes, Lo, they’re attractive,” I said.

“Saggy tits can be attractive, right?”

I gave up on answering and focused on hitting hard at the target. Apparently that took Lo’s mind off of her tits for a while because she found a photo that she stared at intently and she began convulsing on my cock, cumming hard.

When she was done, she pulled off of me and rolled on her back, phone still in hand, looking at the photos submitted by fans to her. I asked her, “Lo, what do they all do for you?”

“It’s not what they do for me that turns me on, it’s what I do for them.”

[All photos were submitted to loladown.tumblr.com]

Sin-esthesia

Posted on April 4, 2017 by Lola Down

Sin-esthesia

“Daddy, fuck me,” she said. I had been in bed for at least an hour before she joined me. I had read, trying to stay awake until she got home, but reading a book in a reclining position while sipping a whiskey at midnight on a Friday is simply not the best way to stay awake. I had fallen asleep sometime around 12:30. Lo was out with her friends. I hadn’t heard her come home or enter the bedroom. I hadn’t heard her remove her clothes, get ready for bed, or slip under the covers. All I heard was her whisper into my ear, “Daddy, fuck me.”

Some people say hello when they get home. Some people say good night when they get into bed. Some people don’t wake their partners when their partners are asleep and they come home in the a.m. But Lo says, “Daddy, fuck me.”

I don’t recall what inarticulate grunt of a response I made, but Lo was dismayed at the rebuff. Lo, being the extrovert that she is, gets energized from time out with friends. I, on the other hand, being an introvert, declined the invitation to go out with others.

Being fully aroused by her night out on the town, she was not nearly ready for sleep. She pulled out her phone and then I heard her talking to me again.

“Hunter wrote to me. He has a new girl. He sent me pictures. Do you want to see, Daddy?”

I didn’t respond. I heard her pull out her Hitachi. I heard the familiar buzz of its vibration.

“Mmmmmm,” she moaned, “she’s very hot. Oh, and he sent a few pics of him too. He’s grabbing his long cock. He says his new friend is eager to be with a woman and guess what Hunter is suggesting? That’s right, he wants me to join. What do you think of that? Would you be upset if I had a threesome with them? Would you feel left out if I went over there and got fucked by the two of them and you were all alone?”

I heard her put down the Magic Wand and tap out something. I rolled over.

“What are you telling him?” I asked.

“Oh, now you’re awake?”

“Thanks to you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What are you telling him?”

“I’m suggesting some times that we could meet. I’m also asking if he would build a milking table for us so that she and I could be under it sucking and tugging on his long cock.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

“Let me see,” I said, about the new girlfriend.

“No.”

“Let me see.”

“If you want to see, get behind me and fuck me. You can look over my shoulder. . . if you’re good.”

I grabbed my reading glasses from the nightstand and got up and slid right into Lo’s wet pussy.

“That’s it, Daddio. Get in there deep,” said Lo as she held up the phone and displayed the pics of Hunter’s new affair.

“You want her?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“You want to. . .” I didn’t even have time to finish my second question before Lo came with gusto.

“Fuck, I was horny!” she said. She fell forward into the pillow and slipped her pussy off of my shaft.

“You just used me,” I complained.

“So?”

“My cock was nothing more than a dildo or your Hitachi. A two minute orgasm. Isn’t that right?”

“Yep. But you were better than the dildo or Hitachi.”

“Only because with me, you had your hands free to look at Hunter’s pornographic pictures.”

“Right again.”

“And now that you woke me from a deep sleep, you’re going to leave me high and dry.”

“More like hard-up and wet, but yeah. I’m so tired all of the sudden.” She was already almost asleep.

“Unbelievable.”

“Jack it.”

“No.”

“Why not? You can cum on me.”

“No.”

“Please. I love it when you jack it.”

“You love it when anyone jacks it.”

“And when you cum on me.”

“You love it when anyone cums on you.”

“Hunter jacked it and came on me.”

“I know that.”

“Fine, if you don’t want to.”

“You’re really going to sleep.”

“I can’t help it. But I give you full permission to fuck me while I’m sleeping.”

“Oh, blanket consent, huh?”

She was asleep now. I tried to go back to sleep, but couldn’t. Her naked body next to me was too tempting. I slowly got behind her, put my warm body down on hers, and wiggled my way inside her still wet cunt. She didn’t move. She didn’t wake. I propped myself up on my elbows on the pillow and slowly slid back and forth inside her. I turned on her phone and saw the email from Hunter. He wrote to her, “Still turning heads and dropping pants, darlin’?”

She wrote back, “I’m still dropping my pants and giving head.”

Their banter went back-and-forth. I thought of what a little slut my girl was and as I did, I came deep inside her. I collapsed on the bed next to her and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, just prior to waking, I found my hands gliding gently over her naked skin, feeling the roundness of her bum and the curves of her breasts. As they hovered over the surface of her body, they transmitted to my dreaming mind an image, like a blind man reading braille.

This had the dual effect of making my cock stiff and waking Lo from her slumbers. She looked at me and I looked at her and said, “I love seeing you with my hands, feeling you with my eyes, caressing you with my tongue, evoking you through olfaction. I love to know you through our bodies. I love to get physical with you in my imagination.”

She said, “Well, how about you fuck me with your cock?”

“That works too!” I said as I got behind her and gave her what she wanted. As I slid in, she said that my caresses during the night gave her wild sex dreams. “I’m so wet!” she said. “All night I’ve been dreaming of people using me, fucking me, fucking every one of my holes. You, Hunter, his girlfriend, strangers.”

“Well, one of those happened,” I said.

“What?”

“You said I could fuck you even if you fell asleep.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I did.”

“You did?” she asked, and as the thought of it filled her mind, she came, gushing all over me.

Markings On Rear

Posted on March 22, 2017 by Lola Down

Markings On Rear

“If you could have me anyway you want me, how would you have me?”

“I think you know.”

“No, I don’t. Tell me.”

“You know.”

“Please, Daddio. I want to hear you tell me,” she said seductively, pulling at her nipples as we lay in bed naked, next to each other.

“There’s one way that I really like to have you.”

“In the arms of another man?”

“Well, that too, but that wasn’t what I was thinking of just now.”

“Tell me. In the arms of another woman?”

“There’s that as well, but. . .”

“The arms of another man and another woman!”

“My my, is this your fantasy or mine?”

“Well, it’s yours, but for my pleasure.”

“Isn’t it always for your pleasure?”

“No!” she protested, “I do things for your pleasure.”

“Only when my pleasure brings you pleasure.”

“That’s true. But stop beating around the bush and tell me.”

“Interesting turn of phrase since the way I’d like to have you is. . .”

“Ooohhh! I know what you want. You want my ass, don’t you Daddy?”

“What gave it away?” I asked sarcastically.

She wiggled her ass in the air and said, “Well, you can’t. Not tonight.”

“You say ‘Not tonight’ every night!”

“That’s not true.”

“Well, tell me something.”

“What’s that?” she asked, excited.

“Did you used to give up your ass more frequently than you do with me?”

“MmmmHmmm,” she said with a smile and licking her lips.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, before you, with some of the fellas I dated in college. . .”

“Dated?” I interrupted.

“Well, fucked.”

“That’s more like it.”

“I used to take long, hot, steamy showers while they lay on the bed.”

“I bet you did. And I know what you did in those showers too.”

“That’s right. I’d cum and cum loudly about two or three times while I got myself all nice and clean and him all nice and hard.”

She stopped to pull on my cock and feel how hard I was at the time.

“You like my story, Daddy?”
“Oh yes. Go on.”

“Well, when I was done, I’d come out of the shower and into the bed and I’d lie on my tum while my ass was in the air, like this.” She put her cute bum up so she looked like a little inchworm.

“And?”

“And then I’d motion to my lover-for-the-evening to grab the body oil from my nightstand and give me a good massage with it. He’d rub it into my calves and my lower back and I’d keep on putting my butt up in the air and I’d direct him where to go. If he didn’t find his way, then I’d put my hand back there like so.” She moved her hand over her ass cheek and began massaging her special spot. “And then I’d finger myself until I came and then ask him – whomever he was – if he wanted to do the same. I’d instruct him and direct him until he got me all revved up and then I’d tell him to get behind me and I’d make sure he slid into my puss first to get him nice and slick and then I’d direct him right. . . there.” She let out a moan as she fingered her special spot even deeper.

“I remember those days when you used to go crazy – demanding that you wanted A to P and back again. You’d even go A to P to M!”

“Ah, young love. How romantic of us. Right?”

“Why don’t you do that anymore?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.” The truth was, I was afraid of her answer. But I still wanted to know.

“Well, Daddio, I’ve never had anyone as thick as you.”

“Come on!” I protested in disbelief.

“No, really. I’ve had longer, but never thicker! You stretch me till it hurts.”

“I thought you like that.”

“Sometimes. But I need a lot more practice.”

“Well, let’s get to it,” I said, pulling her little princess plug out of her toy drawer.

She took it from me and put it in.

“Fuck me,” she begged.

“No,” I said.

“What?”

“I said no. You have to be punished for all your sins.”

“I like the sound of that,” she said.

She got on all fours and as I spanked her bottom, the lyrics of the song “Take Me to Church” played in my head:

Take me to church
I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

She delighted at each open-handed smack of her bottom and I could feel her getting wet.

“Have me now, Daddy,” she pleaded.

I flipped her over on her back and spread her legs. I worshiped her like a dog, using my tongue and lapping up her sweet nectar.

I reached below the bed and pulled out her Remus as another verse of the song chimed in my ears.

Drain the whole sea
Get something shiny
Something meaty for the main course
That’s a fine looking high horse
What you got in the stable?
We’ve a lot of starving faithful

“No, Daddy!” she pleaded. “I want you.”

“First I’m going to fill you up.”

She accepted her sentence like a proud princess on the rack.

When she was stuffed beyond a reasonable amount, I pulled out the lengthy and thick dildo and replaced it with my hard rod.

“Fill me up, Daddy,” she whispered.

“I am,” I said.

“Oh.”

She had already cum twice and now I was slipping and sliding inside her. I could feel the princess plug protruding from below. I flipped her over again so that she was on her hands and knees and I was thrusting behind her and with each thrust my torso pushed the princess plug in a bit deeper.

“I’m cumming!” she called, “I’m cumming in my ass!” Oh, how I longed to hear those words. I thrusted with greater speed and more intensity until she collapsed, falling forward on the bed and, with both hands between her legs, she tried to prevent her flood gates from bursting, to no avail.

The sheets soaked, she asked me, “Did you cum?”

“No.”

“Do you want to cum?”

“Yes.”

“Well, too bad.”

“Why?”

“Because abstinence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Darling, I am hardly abstinent.”

“You’re hard alright,” she said, looking at my member.

“Did you like it?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I like that when I’m good I get spankings and when I’m bad I get more. . . a lot more,” she said, looking at the Remus horse dildo lying next to her on the bed.

Match, Cinder & Spark: Volume II – MORE! is now available for your e-reader!

Posted on March 1, 2017 by Lola Down

Match, Cinder & Spark: Volume II – MORE! is now available for your e-reader!

You can order your copy here:

Doppelgangers

Posted on January 15, 2017 by Lola Down

Doppelgangers

Sometime back, you may recall, Lo and I met a couple whom we lovingly referred to as “the protégés.” Erin and Zach were, in many ways, a younger version of Lo and me. We had met them through an ad on Craigslist that Lo had placed looking for a third – male or female, or a couple – to help her with her insatiable appetite for sex. They answered the ad and we hit it off right away. Unfortunately, they lived pretty far away and meet-ups were difficult to arrange before they moved to the other side of the country.

Well, recently, I had the pleasure of meeting a new couple whose moniker here will be “the doppelgangers.” A while back I was presenting at a conference out-of-town when a friend said, “Oh, I have to introduce you to Jim. You two have so much in common.” At the dinner reception that night she made good on her promise and it turned out that Jim and I had even more in common than our match-maker imagined. Not only were our interests aligned, but we had studied at the same college, knew many of the same people professionally, and, oddest of all, it turned out that Jim lived in the same city as Lo and me. How had we not met before?!

But the uncanny coincidences didn’t stop there. While at the dinner, I noticed that Jim was sitting next to a slender, attractive blonde whom he introduced to me as his girlfriend Lilly. Lilly, I found out, was a student of sexuality and gender studies.

“You must meet Lola, my girlfriend,” I said, explaining that besides having the same consonantal pattern in their names, they are in a similar field – though Lo is engaged in sex therapy. I soon found out that Lilly’s focus was getting people to be “in touch,” literally and metaphorically, with themselves. Our dinner conversation was far better than the usual polite chit-chat. It was deep and philosophical and I couldn’t wait to introduce Lo to the doppelgangers.

The first weekend back at home we went out for a double date and, much to my surprise – though I should have seen it coming – Lo took to Jim right away but was not sold on Lilly. “Oh my God!” said Lo after the date, “Can’t you see it?”

“See what?” I asked, innocently.

“All that talk about sex and helping women to squirt and finding ways to treat men’s impotency – all of it!”

“What about it? I thought you’d find it. . . interesting.”

“She’s showing off. She’s looking for attention. She’s trying to shock us with her ‘open-mindedness,’ her – grrrrrrrrrrrrr!” Lo couldn’t find the right words and was frustrated.

“Lo,” I said, trying to be conciliatory, “Don’t you think that maybe it’s just that you two are so. . .” I hesitated to use the word, “similar?”

“WHAT?!”

I knew it. I shouldn’t have said it.

“How could you even suggest that?! She’s such a, such a, a, a. . .”

“Attention slut?”

“Yes!”

She agreed with me right away, but a split second later, the irony of it set in – the fact that I had specifically said about her in the past that she is an attention slut. She gave me a sidelong glance. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “You’re thinking that I’m also an attention slut.”

“Well, aren’t you?”

“Not like she is!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see the difference.”

She was ready to knock my block off when I said that. “She’s desperate for attention,” Lo insisted. “I’m just good at getting it and I enjoy it. That’s the difference.”

“Whose attention is she desperate to get?” I asked.

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

“Whatever do you mean?” I admit, I was toying with her a bit and found the situation amusing.

“Don’t think I didn’t see how she was flirting with you. ‘Oh, HH, tell me more about. . . and, HH, what do you think of. . . .’” She quoted Lilly in a mocking, bimbo caricature voice, batting her eyelashes at me and smiling falsely.

“Was that how she was talking?” I asked.

“Yes. And don’t think for a second that I didn’t see her checking out your package.” She looked down at my crotch and stared.

“Was she?” I asked with mock naïveté.

“Fuck off!”

“So is that really what this is about?”

“What?”

“You’re afraid of her attracting my attention.”

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” There was a pause. “No. I mean, I’m insecure. There. I’ll own it. I’m afraid that you’ll find her waiflike, Kate Hudson, faux-innocence with a dirty mouth attractive and you’ll leave me for her. You know I have abandonment issues. And frankly, it’s not an irrational thought, is it?” The levy had broken and now the flood of her thoughts was unleashed. “I mean, look at your history – you’ve left every single woman you’ve ever been involved with. You’ve never been broken up with. You’ve only done the breaking up. Why shouldn’t I be insecure? You tell me practically on a daily basis that you are free as a bird to do whatever it is you want. For our first anniversary you bought me a bracelet that said ‘Impermanence.’ I mean, what the hell?! What do you think a woman is going to understand from that? Don’t you think that I have a reason to feel threatened, to be insecure? Look at her – she’s your dream come true. Isn’t she? She’s skinny and she talks about sex incessantly and she looks at you with those eyes that say fuck me and she wants an older father-figure of a man and she shuts me down and. . .”

She wasn’t done talking, but I grabbed her and held her closely and with a bit of a grin on my face, amused at her sudden confession, I said, “Even if all that were true – though I deny that it is – but even if it were true, so what?”

“So what?” she asked, looking up at me with the tears running down her face, pulling her mascara down in straight lines over her cheeks.

“Yeah, so what?”

“I’m scared you’ll leave me. That’s so what.”

“Lo,” I said, “even if everything you just said was true, there’s one thing that you are leaving out of the picture.”

“What’s that?” She was more quiet now. Ready to listen.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not to me.”

“Lo,” I said, looking into her eyes, “she’s not you and I’m in love with you. Only you. All I want is you. Yes, I may be a bit flattered if a woman shows some interest in me now and again. Can you blame me? I’m not anywhere near as attractive and appealing to others as you are. You get men and women showing an interest in you all the time. So, let me bask in some attention on occasion. I’m not interested in anyone else but you.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”
“I mean, what do I have that she doesn’t have?”

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it,” I said as I put my lips to her forehead and took a deep breath with my nose buried in her hair. “The way you smell. The touch of your flesh against mine. The sound of your voice when you call me ‘Daddy.’ The way you know when I’m depressed before even I do. The way you make me laugh. Everything. It’s as if every cell in my body shares DNA with every cell in yours and that DNA is meant to be intertwined together in its double-helix union. My genetic structure calls out for you and only you answer that call. It’s as if we are of one psyche. Your thoughts are mine and mine yours and without you I’d be braindead.”

“If that’s really so, then why do we fight so often?”

“Don’t you know?”

“No.”

“I think you do.”

“Tell me.”

“We fight,” I said quietly and gently, “only because you’re afraid.”

“Afraid? Afraid of what?”

“You know.”

“Say it for me.”

“Afraid of admitting the truth – that we are so closely connected that if I were to leave, your biology and psyche would also be severed. You’re afraid of accepting my love because you fear, deep down, that I am going to leave you. And so you fight it rather than accept it. To accept it wholeheartedly would mean being fully, completely vulnerable – even more vulnerable than you already feel. Deep down you want me to leave. You want your worst nightmare to come true because then you wouldn’t be vulnerable. Then you could put up your wall as high as the stratosphere and sit comfortably alone behind your defenses and not sit with this uncomfortable insecurity and vulnerability. You want me to hate you and leave you because you don’t feel that you’re deserving of me and my love and you want to prove yourself right. Well, I’m here to tell you you’re wrong. I love you. But, it’s like Bruce Springsteen says, ‘You can’t shut off the risk and the pain without losing the love that remains.’ Love is never secure, never complete, never safe. If it were, then you’d leave and look for someone else.”

“Who’s to say that I won’t leave, looking for someone else?” she asked, defiantly.

“Oh, you might go looking for someone else. You might find someone else. You might fuck someone else. But you’ll always come back to me.”

“Why should I?” she asked, still as stubborn as ever – trying to disprove my accurate insight into her psychology.

“Because you love me.”

“I love you because you can leave me at any time and because I love you, I want you to leave me? That’s your theory?”

I nodded yes.

“Well, you’re wrong,” she said, obstinately. “I hate you. I just love hating you so much that I want to fuck you, cause when we fuck, I know I’ve got you in my power and you’re mine.”

“That makes absolutely no sense,” I said.

“Shut up and get in the bedroom,” she said.