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Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume II: MORE! Audio Sample

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More Cumming Soon

If you have not heard the talented, seductive, incredibly sexy voice of Jupiter Grant, then just scroll down to get a sample that will make you swoon!

She has just completed the audio of Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume II: MORE! It’s even more steamy than the first volume.

Below is a little sample as well as an image of the cover with all the chapters listed.

You can purchase your copy HERE or, if you’re in the UK, HERE.

And be sure to check out Jupiter Grant’s blog and her other audio delights!!!!

Much Love,

Lola & HH

From the story, “H.H., You Slut!”

All the pent-up heat, heartbeat, and seductive sweets of Lo are expressed in one color as well: red.  The red of her lips parted with a red tongue tip touching the white of her teeth tell the tale of love and lust, longing and life lived fully.  A lush life filled with libidinous conquests.  The red of her areolae upon her perky breasts, pinched and almost panting for attention and pleasure, pulled and protruding like little buoys beckoning to the passing sailors as they lift and heave upon the bosom of the undulating sea.  The glossy red of her pained fingernails pulling at her red nipples, licked by her red tongue, lightly separating her red labia.  Her pink pussy lips parted and revealing the lush red lining of her luscious labia minora.  The fire engine red of her pedicured toes curling with tense expectation of love’s consummation.  Lying there on the sheen of her red satin sheets, in her sheer red silk negligée, swaddled in the sea of red blankets, she brings herself to a shrieking climax.  Like a siren singing from the darkness, her voice reverberates with pleasure up and down the octaves as her convulsing body rhythmically dances to the command of her virtuosic finger on her clit.

Red, the symbol of the forbidden district.  Red, the enticing sign of danger and vitality.  Red, the fruit’s color of poison and fertility.  Red, the color of flame.  Red, the color of caution and calling.  Red is the apple tossed to Paris.  Red is the sea – wet and parted to receive the host.  Red is the sky in the night and morn.  Red is the blood when the finger is pricked by the red rose’s thorn.  Red is my Lo’s mind filled with diabolical thoughts.  Red is the devil whose brimming brow spouts thorns.  Red is life when it is born.  Red is the cheek when it is warm.  Red is my heart when for Lo it longs.  Red are all things forbidden – from knowledge’s treats to vulgar porn.  Red is the color of this song.

Lo, look at how you entrance me!  How you bewitch me!  How you have me in your spell!  I have gone mad!  I write my book of love and inscribe each page with your refulgent image.  I sing your praises to Heaven’s foundations that the angels might find respite from their constant bliss and repent their having not been remiss.

Cover of the Audio Book with chapters

Lola Mounted

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[The mini-series “Mount Bliss” continues from “Quick Anal Hookups.”]

Lo sat down.  Lilly looked up and took out her earbuds.  Suzanne smiled a disingenuous smirk.  I looked guilty, though I was not.

Lola in bed

“Good morning, Lo,” said Suzanne.  “Sleep well?”

“I did,” replied Lo.

“The rain didn’t bother you?” asked Suzanne.

“Rain?  Did it rain?” asked Lo.

“There was a brief shower,” said Suzanne.  “I thought you might have got caught in it after you left my room.”

Lo said nothing.

“What’s the plan for today?” asked Suzanne.  “Maybe some more water sports?”

Clearly she was speaking to Lo.  Teasing her?  Trying to push her buttons?  Lo was firmly in control of her temper.

“Not sure,” said Lo, right back at her, “will you be exercising the dogs?  They look like they have a lot of pent-up energy.”

“Only Bandit.  Shadow is looking spent from burying his bone yesterday.”

Lo was about to say something when Jim joined us wearing only his bathing suit.

“Morning!” he said cheerfully oblivious to all the tension.

At the sight of him, Suzanne stood up and said that she was going to run the wash so that she will have a clean comforter in case it gets cold tonight.  She added, “Anything you’d like me to wash?  I’m sure you’re eager to get home, but if I can help you clean up.”

“Was it something I said?” asked Jim, suddenly sensing the chill in the air.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Lilly.  “It’s Suzanne.  She’s still hungover from last night and she’s just darkening our day with her storm clouds.”  Lilly never referred to Suzanne as “Aunt Suzanne.”

Lilly rolled over on her back and proudly displayed her still virginal pussy.  Lo caught me stealing a glance at it.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” she said more than asked.

Time to take my lumps, I thought.

I went with Lo to the front of the cottage and, before she could begin to scold me, I professed my innocence.

“Forget all that,” she said to my great surprise.  “I want to go.  Are you ready?”

“Yeah, whatever you want,” I said.  “But what about Collin?  He’s not even up yet.”

As if he had heard me, he appeared in the front door saying, “There you two are!”  He was as genial as ever.  “Sleep well?”

“Fine,” said Lo, flatly.

“Good, good.  I’ll have breakfast ready in a little.”

“I think we’re just going to get on the road,” said Lo.

“Nonsense!  It’s a long drive back.  I can’t let you leave on an empty stomach.”

There was no denying Collin when he was hospitable.

“HH, will you help me get some wood?  I think we’ll cook breakfast over the fire.”

I went with Collin to the wood stack and along the way he said, “You know HH, Lo has been nothing but kind to me.  I am sorry that I have to apologize for my wife and the way she has treated Lo.  I would love to see you both again.”

“That’s all up to Lo,” I said.  “I don’t make those sorts of decisions for her.  She’s her own woman, you know.”

“Oh, I know.  And what a woman she is!”

“You don’t know the half of it, I’m sure.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“One day Lo might let you in.  But, until then, just use your imagination.”

For once, Collin seemed speechless!  Advantage HH!!!

“I like a little game,” he said.

Game on!

After that, there was not much more to report.  The six of us had breakfast.  Collin tried to figure out the riddle I had hinted to him about Lo.  Suzanne insisted that Lo return soon “because the dogs are just crazy about you. . . and so am I!”

With a peck on the cheek, Suzanne wished Lo and me safe travels.  Collin gave me a firm handshake.  Too firm.  He hugged Lo affectionately.  Too affectionately and too long.

Then Lo and I were off in our car back to the city.  Along the way she filled me in on all the details that were missing from my knowledge of the week and that I have just relayed to you, dear reader.

It was a lot for me to take in, but luckily it was a long and bucolic drive.  After her stories were at an end, we both settled into a pensive silence.  I was thinking about how, no if I could write these stories.  It would be a tall order.  A real challenge.

Lola Ready for Action

I began to ponder, what’s this blog about?  What am I writing about when I write about my sex life with Lola?  It’s about sex, yes.  That much is clear.  But it’s really about so much more than that.  It’s about psychology.  About Lo’s psychology, for sure.  But, more than that, it’s about the psychology of women.  For years of my long life, women were the cliché mystery wrapped in an enigma sporting a thong and a bra.  But then I met Lo and everything changed.  She, more than anyone I’ve ever met, opened up – in more ways than one – and let me in, let me explore, let me discover, let me uncover, let me wander.  The more I sought, the more seemed hidden.  She has depths beneath her depths and her surfaces are sublime.  I’m fascinated and intoxicated by her charisma, power of seduction, and her embrace of her inner slut.

The reason why I can write seemingly endless tomes about Lo, besides the raw material that she provides, is that there is no end to the psychological speculation that manifests in the physical enactment of her libidinous expressions of love and lust.

As I sat silently pondering these fleeting reflections, Lo began squirming out of her short shorts and pink panties.

“Lo, what the?”

“Keep driving,” was all she said.  She began by fingering her clit.  She progressed to penetrating her cunt.  Her bare feet went up on the dash and she spread her legs.  Her digital manipulation had escalated to an open hand slapping her pussy.  I had seen her do this before, many times, but this time there was something more violent about it.  It was as if she was punishing her pussy for being so sinful.  Slap, slap, smack, whap!  Down her open palm went sadistically spanking her vajayjay with unrelenting physical rebuke.  Masochistically, that very same cunt she was clobbering was simultaneously showing signs of sexual stimulation.  With each violent vaginal clap, I could hear her getting wet and each slap sounding more like a splash.

Her legs were spread as wide apart as they could be in the confined space.  Her left foot was close to the steering wheel and her right up in the corner by the passenger side window.  From between her legs she suddenly let out a long, forceful spray straight up onto the windshield coinciding with a loud, “FUUUUUUUCK!”

When she was done and her legs were crossed and her breathing heavy, but not panting, I simply said to her, “You know, I didn’t get the interior windshield wiper option when I bought this car.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” she said, using her shorts to mop up the mess.

Once we were back home, I, with a new understanding of Collin and his predicament, took some pity on the old chap.  In my moment of sympathy, I ordered a larger than life photograph of Lo for him to add to his art collection.  A few weeks later, when he had received it, he sent back a photo.  He had mounted it just above his bed.  I guess that was his mount bliss.  Collin finally did mount Lo in the end.

Collin Finally Mounts Lo

Cumtributes in the Age of Coronavirus

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[We interrupt our regularly scheduled mini-series, “Mount Bliss,” to bring you this article, published in the June issue of ENM Magazine (Ethical Non-Monogamy).]

“I like to be the social lubricant that helps my man get deals done.”

 

“Will you just look at that,” I said as I stared at my computer screen.  Lo sat across from me at the breakfast table, scrolling through her phone, appraising photos from her fans.  The thought crossed my mind that she peruses the tributes the way some middle-aged men from a different era might go through the morning newspaper.

Sunday News, Lola Down, Hotwife

“Ahem,” I said a little louder, “Would you just look at that.”

She pulled her nose up from out of her phone.  “What’s that dear?” she asked politely.

I turned my screen around for her to see.

 

Applicant does not present live performances of a prurient sexual nature or derive directly or indirectly more than de minimis gross revenue through the sale of products or services, or the presentation of any depictions or displays, of a prurient sexual nature.

 

“Hmmmm,” she grunted, half-heartedly.

“Do you know what that is?”

“I don’t.”

“I have to agree to it if I want to be considered for the Payroll Protection Program.”

“So, making money from our books, blog, and calendars disqualifies you?”

“I’m insulted!”

“You’re right.  Those damn Puritan bastards.”

“No, I’m insulted by you!  You think that my art, my literature, my philosophy of the bedroom is of a prurient sexual nature?”

“Of course not, dear.  It is only interpreted that way.  Just like me.”

“That’s better,” I said in approval.

“And you certainly don’t derive any gross revenue from it.”

“Do you mean gross as in disgusting or as in a large amount?”

“Yes,” she said, dismissively, returning to the photos on her phone.

I completed the application and she started flirting with me by placing her bare foot between my legs under the table, as she often does with guys she dates.

“Why do you want me now?” I asked.

“I just want something to do,” she said.

“Something to do, or someone to do?”
“Someone to do me.”

“At least you’re honest.  But are you sure it has nothing to do with the photos you’re examining?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess you’re right.  But you have stuff to do.  I have stuff to do.”

“Yeah, so let’s make it double-stuff.”

“I like the sound of that,” I said.

Truth be told, I was getting about half as much done during this mandatory work-from-home than I would in a normal workday, and it was all because of Lola.  That truth should not be misconstrued as a complaint.  But still. . .

“I was going to work on my résumé because I think, at this rate, I’m going to be one of the millions of unemployed soon and I haven’t updated it in years!”

“You should treat your résumé like your sex life: if you don’t spruce it up every six months or so, it gets stale.  You should keep a record of all your accomplishments and write them down somewhere.”

“I do, on the blog.”

“I wasn’t speaking of our sex life.  I was speaking of your work experience.”

“Well, being a writer of erotica, our sex life is my work experience.”

“Touché.”

They say ‘Home is where your story begins.’  Well, under Coronavirus lockdown, home is where our story begins, continues, and ends.  Repeat.

We got to the bedroom because, given the opportunity to do Lola or do my résumé, I’d take Lola every time.

We hopped in bed and she said, “Let’s fuck.”

I said, “Pull down your pants.”

“You pull down yours.”

“How about we both pull down our pants on three?”

“Haven’t you ever heard of foreplay?”

“Yeah, we pull down our pants on three and then on four, we play.”

The preliminaries accomplished, I pat her puss with the tip of my cock.  I asked, “Why are you so wet?”

“I was looking at all the cumtributions my fans send me.”

“So, you like showing off nude?”
“Am I really that transparent?”

Tribute from Sam and Alia

“Not transparent at all,” I said.  “And those guys put you in the mood for sex?”

“Ya think?  And who said they were all from guys?”

Cumtribute from Sam

She shut her eyes, apparently picturing the images she had reviewed that morning.

Just as I was getting into her, she opened her eyes and asked, “Do I feel like I have a fever?”

“I don’t know, but I think you’re hot.”

“I’m serious.”

“Yeah, and I’m horny.”

“I might be running a temperature.”

“OK, then, the only way to tell for sure is to take your temperature with my thermometer.  Spread your legs, lift your hips, and say ‘Aaaaaahhhhhh, as I put it in.”

“Funny,” she said and then she sat up, a concerned look on her face.

“What?”

“Every once in a while I think I’m definitely infected with the ’rona.”

“I know.  Everyone does.”

She suddenly was descending into a full-blown panic attack.

“Take it easy,” I said, “Big breaths.”

“I always took you for an ass man,” she quipped, a smile briefly crossing her lips.

“Maybe I was foolish to go to the store to do shopping,” she mused.  “What do you think?  I wore a mask, I brought hand sanitizer.  I was very careful.  Do you think it was prudent of me?”

“It’s probably the only thing you’ve ever been prudish about.”

“No, seriously.”

“Look, why don’t you hop back on your computer and take your mind off of this stupid plague.”

“You brought me into the bedroom to have your way with me and you left my glasses in the breakfast room.  Now I can’t see anything.”

“That’s alright – I look better in soft light.”

“Will you get them for me, Daddy?”

As I began to leave the room, she called, “The wireless is weak in here.  Can I hop on your hotspot?”

“You can always hop on my hotspot, Lo.”

When I returned, she had the computer open on her lap.  I passed her the glasses.

“Need a hand?” I asked.

“More like a cock.”

Sam and Alia read “Match, Cinder & Spark” together.

We looked together.  She scrolled with her right hand as her left stroked my tumescent member under the blankets.

“What are you into?” asked a fan.

“Let’s just say a lot of men are ‘into’ me,” she wrote back.

One artist sent an abstract drawing of her.  Lo titled it, “Lola Down: Simple Lines, Sexy Curves.”

Lola Down – Simple Lines, Sexy Curves

Moments later the artist sent a photo of him cumming on her painting.  “A true genius who loves his work!”

“What about me?” I complained.  “I also love my work.”

“You’re more cerebral.  This was visceral.”

“What do you want?  Me to cum on a copy of Match, Cinder & Spark?”

“No, just cum on me.”

I flipped her over onto her tum, climbed on top of her naked body, and I squeezed my hard cock between her butt cheeks.

“I thought you said you wanted to read?” she asked.

“I do.  I’m a book worm and I want to get into your backpages.”

I applied some lube to her bum and my cock and slid back and forth as she continued to interact with her fans, one of whom said he wants her to love him.  “Do you want love or do you want my pussy?” she replied.

“Do you fuck your followers?” he asked.

“I fuck whomever I please and I please whomever I fuck.”

To one who sent her a cumtribution photo, she asked, “Cum here often?”

To another, to whom she sent a pic of her pussy spread, she wrote, “Cum here often.”

She posted a photo of her under the spout of the tub, water splashing on her clit.  She called it ‘The Human Flying V Guitar’ pose.

A fan texted, “I’m a guitarist.”

She responded, “I’m easy.  Simple fingering and I sing like a Wagnerian Viking.”

She then flipped over and started pulling at her pussy lips as she looked up at me stroking my rod.

“On a scale of one-to-ten, how much do you want me?”

“Seven.”

“Seven?!  I’m insulted.”

“What?  I’ve wanted you more.  It’s true.  Seven is good.”

“Seven,” she said dismissively.  “Barely passing.”

She reached over the side of the bed, her ass exposed before me.  She returned with her Hitachi.  “I want to fuck me more than seven.”

She began enjoying herself until she squirted.

As she basked in her own self-satisfaction, I told her I wanted her.

“Why do you want me?  I look like a fire hydrant that sprung a leak, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I am into that sort of thing and I’m hoping to get into you to plug your leak.”

Cum Here Often

She wasn’t opposed.  After sloshing about in her, I pulled out and came on her naked body.  As she cleaned it up, she said, “Wow!  I think you just set a record.”

“Distance, quantity, or duration?”

“All three.”

“Really?” I said, satisfied with myself, looking proud.

“Don’t get too full of yourself.  It was only your personal record.  Not a record compared to all my lovers.  Hardly,” she said, laughing.

She looked at the computer again and said, “Good news!”

“What’s that?” I asked from my blissful post-climactic haze.

“Your article on nymphomania just got accepted for publication by Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine!”

“Really?”

“Yes!!!” she squealed, excited.  “I think it’s due to the sexy photos I sent to the editor.”

“You sent him sexy photos?”

“I like to be the social lubricant that helps my man get deals done.”

With the Artist’s “Signature”

Before Artist’s Signature

Shag Story Interview with Gabi Levi

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We’re very excited to bring you this Special Report!

Most of you surely already know the wonderful Kayla Lords of erotic blogging and podcast fame, a.k.a. The Smutlancer.  If you don’t, check her out. She has done amazing work and she continues to do something that all of us need to do more – build kink community!

She has teamed up with Gabi Levi – an artist and writer and, if you ask me, probably a great shag – to create a retro themed, art infused corner of the internet for erotic stories and images called Shag Story.

Gabi reached out to us to get our impression of the new site and we LOVED it! I (Lola) started chatting with her and soon enough, we just put together an interview.  So, without further introduction, my interview with Gabi Levi:

Gabi Levi, self portrait

What is your background in art? 

I went to the Gallatin School of Individualized Study at NYU and essentially developed my own major titled Art and Ethics. It was based on an amazing course I took that took a look at the ethical implications of art that maybe was a little bit risqué in a number of ways. It questions its value to society and I always took the stance that provocative art was incredibly valuable, so I started to make some of it.

Who has influenced you?

So many artists, but Magritte is a big one along with various pop artists, comic book creators, and pulp artists. I also love Playboy.

Rene Magritte – Nude Standing

 

 

 

Lola – Nude Standing

What attracts you about erotica or erotic art in particular?

I appreciate the beauty of sex, the human form, and pop culture. As someone who is both an artist and a writer, combining the art with erotica felt natural to me.

Tell us about this new venture, Shag Story (or shagstory.com), that you and Kayla Lords have started. How did you two come up with the idea? Who is your ideal audience?  What sorts of stories do you hope to publish and why?

I wanted to start an erotica site that felt fun and incorporated art. I loved the 70s Playboy aesthetic, so decided to call it Shag Story as a way to allow for some retro art. In terms of audience, it’s anyone who enjoys erotica. Shag Story is a fun place to hang out, embrace eroticism, and enjoy erotic art and writing. I wanted to create a feel-good space.

Why the 70’s theme?

The ’60s-’70s were a time of sexual liberation and revolution. It feels fun, exciting, and like a party.

Who is writing for Shag Story?

Various writers! We always have an open call for submissions that are published upon Kayla’s review.

What is your role at Shag Story?

Along with being one of the founders, I am in charge of the art direction.

What are some of your favorite books and why?

I love Lolita and anything by Elizabeth Wurtzel. Lolita is another great example of a piece of art that is ‘morally corrupt’ but so beautifully written and flawlessly executed. It stirs up mixed emotions, which I think makes something great.

Lola’s Playboy Cover

What are some of your favorite movies and why?

I love Natural Born Killers from an aesthetic and artistic perspective. It’s so jarring, interesting, and beautiful in a sense that isn’t traditional. The acting is also incredible. Watching it is a cathartic experience for me.

If you could meet one person, past or present, who would it be and why?

This answer might be silly, but I’ve always said Eminem. He’s such a genius, so uninhibited, and so talented.

Tell us your most recent or most frequent sexual fap fantasy.

It depends on the day, but most recently it was a fantasy/memory of a time with an ex in the back of his car during summer. Very hot and sticky ;).

I’m allowed one vanity question.  One thing that attracts you about mysexlifewithlola.com?

It’s smart, candid, and sexy!! Who wouldn’t love it?

Lola & Shag Story created by Gabi Levi

 

Interview With a Nympho

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[A word to our sponsors – that’s YOU. Recently a dear reader wrote in to say that he had difficulty subscribing to our blog. We reached out to our beloved tech guy – our Knight in Shining Armor – and he took care of the problem right away. If you have any questions or concerns about subscribing or anything else, please write to us so we can help you out: downloladown@gmail.com. Please subscribe and get all the sexy stories every month!!!]

Working from home? Enjoy mysexlifewithlola as you do.

[I, Lola Down, recently was asked to do an interview about my sex-life under lockdown. Even though HH just wrote an article about it for Ethical Non-Monogamy Magazine, I was happy to give an interview in my own words. It ended up on the cutting room floor, but here it is for your reading pleasure.]

1. How has your sex life changed since practicing social distancing?

My sex life with my man, HH, is pretty much the same. I mean, we have lots of time together and, actually, that’s been great for both of us. But, to fill you in on our relationship, he’s in his fifties and I’m in my mid-twenties. His libido isn’t quite where mine is. In fact, he says that my libido outstrips that of a teenage boy. Well, maybe he’s right. So between us, things have remained the same — about once or twice a day. However, with “social distancing” (which is really physical distancing since I am still very social, just physically distant) I cannot meet men and women in person like I used to. HH and I have an understanding. I’m given free reign (to be a ‘hotwife’) and he saves himself for me. But now, all my hotwife activity is only virtual — through email (downloladown@gmail.com) or tweet or other social media. There’s a lot of men and women out there who are trapped. Either they’re alone or they are with partners that don’t satisfy them. They’re happy to find me.

Caught!

2. What is it like when you do decide to leave your apartment, flat or home?

Where we are, when we go out it’s probably much like where you are. People walking around or jogging or biking. Some have masks on, some don’t. I get really upset at those joggers who sneak up on you and don’t have a mask on and they come within a foot of your personal space. Go jog somewhere else! You know? Shopping is a pain, but you know, as they say, we’re all in this together. I can’t complain any more than the next person.

3. How do you control your urges or cravings on a daily basis?

Working from home makes it easy. Simply put, I don’t have to “control my urges or cravings” as much as I would at work. I can simply hop into the bath, turn on the warm water, spread my legs and have a little mid-day me-time. No sneaking around to the office supply closet or an empty bathroom.

Lola Social Distancing

4. What is the hardest part of being a sex addict in quarantine?

Am I a sex addict? Like Jessica Rabbit says, “I’m not bad. I’m just drawn that way.” HH depicts me as a sex-craved nympho. I just think I’m sex-positive with a healthy libido. I think that this “social distancing” is as draining on me as anyone. I thrive on social interaction. The other day I woke up and turned to HH and said, “I had such a vivid dream. I was at a restaurant and had just finished an excellent meal and a great cocktail. I even asked for the bill. It was amazing!”

“Was it as good as a sex dream?” he asked.

Honestly, it was better. I just want to be outside with people, dining out, seeing and being seen, dressing up or dressing down and, did I mention, being with people? Zoom just doesn’t do it for me.

Write me!

5. How do you cope as a sex addict in quarantine?

Didn’t the CDC say that sex with yourself is the safest sexy you can have? Well, I try to follow rules. Except when I break them. No, just kidding. That’s a rule I don’t break. I have a lot of self-pleasure sessions. Nothing new there, really. But now I can’t just call up a friend and have him or her come over to give me benefits.

6. Are you still having sex with other people while in quarantine? If so, please explain.

No sex in real life, just in my imagination. I had another crazy sex dream about Peter Dinklage the other night. I know, right? If only he and I were dining together in my dream. . .

7. How often are you watching pornography, using sex toys, or engaging in sex addicts that do not involve a partner while in quarantine?

Daily, hourly, right now. . . I mean, if you’re reading this, I’m engaging with you, right?

How to Practice Ethical Non-Monogamy Under Lockdown

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[Hi everyone! We hope that you boys & girls reading this from home are all safe and healthy. We know you’re sexy! We’re interrupting our usual programing of the mini-series “Mount Bliss” to bring you this story. You, our longtime readers and fans, probably know that most of the stories you read here are true, but HH takes a long time to craft them and so they are not usually about what is happening NOW. This is a little different.  It was featured in the May edition of Ethical Non-Monogamy (ENM) Magazine (p. 38).  It’s appropriate not only because it tell you how we are dealing with life under lockdown, but also it’s appropriate since May is Masturbation Month!  We hope you enjoy and we love to hear your stories of how you are doing: downloladown@gmail.com]

How to Practice Ethical Non-Monogamy Under Lockdown

“Fuck me,” she said, “Yeah, like that.”

I looked in the slightly ajar door to see just whom Lola could be fucking during a mandatory lockdown in a global pandemic.

“Oh, yeah,” she cooed as she lay, splayed out on the bed, one hand up inside her, the other squeezing her tits.

She was fucking herself and, apparently telling herself just how much she enjoyed it.

Desperate times, I suppose.

We had been in lockdown for two weeks.  It wasn’t so bad.  We were in Florida, by the beach, which eventually got closed down.  But we had a pool.  That too got closed the second week.  Now, all we had was each other and our health – a lot to be thankful for, no doubt, but not nearly enough for Lo.

We were both working remotely.  It was a little past one in the afternoon.  I was trying to do a conference call to Ms. Gale, my secretary, and one other person, but the moans and groans, gasps and grunts from the bedroom could be heard throughout the small apartment we were renting.  When she transitioned to actual words like “Fuck me.  Yeah, like that,” I had to make an excuse to hang up and go check on my nympho in the bedroom.

I politely waited until she was done – or at least taking a pause from her self-pleasure.

“Lo, come on!”

“What Daddy?”

“It’s one-fifteen.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Don’t you have work to do as well?”

“I’ve always had an hour of me-time scheduled every day on my work calendar, even before this whole Coronavirus thing.  Everyone knows not to bother me for this hour.”

“Do they know what you’re doing on your ‘me-time’?”

“Oh no, Daddy.  Well, I mean, I guess some of them probably have their suspicions.”

“Let me tell you, if you’re as loud in your office as you are here, then everyone knows.”

“I’m sorry, Daddio.  But I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d just fuck me.”

“We fucked last night and this morning.”

“So, why not this afternoon?”

“If I fucked you as much as you want it, then I certainly would die during this pandemic, but not from the virus!”

“It’s good exercise.”

“It seems like the only exercise you’ve been getting.”

“Well, the gym’s closed.  Besides, the CDC said that the safest sex anyone can have right now is with themselves.”

“The CDC did not say that!”

“Someone said that.”

“Probably you.”

“That doesn’t make it untrue.”

“Good grief!  Well, try to keep the sound effects to a minimum.  OK?  I have calls to make.”

While I work the day away, Lola plays.  She carries on about five to ten affairs from afar with various men and women.  Her friend, Nero Black, posted about jacking to her photos while his wife, who rarely gives up her goodies to him, jills it in the next room to taboo incest literotica.  Yet, the married boy best beware if she happens to walk in on him in the onanistic act of worshipping Ms. Down.  Lo has frequently suggested (nay, more than suggested, demanded) that Nero direct his partner’s web browser to mysexlifewithlola, or, at the very least, put the two of them in contact with each other.  But, as of yet, he has refrained.  Many-a-night I’ve had to hear from Lo about how she would have treated the two of them if she were their couples counselor.

Lo is friends with a lovely married couple from NJ, Mike and Danielle.  Mike has been a stay-at-home-dad to his two young daughters while Danielle has done the 9-to-5 at the office.  This has left Mike with time to chat with Lo and fap to Lo when the girls are down for a nap.  Luckily, unlike with Mr. Black, this has all been on the up-and-up with his wife Danielle.  In fact, not only with her blessing, but her encouragement.  She loves to come home and see the cumtributes her husband made to and for Lola.  Then, after the kids are put to bed, they turn on Lo’s pixilated pussy and fuck each other while looking at Lola.

Sharing Couple from NJ Hubby’s Cumtribute to Lola

Sharing Couple of NJ Enjoying the Stories

Sharing Couple of NJ Getting off to Lo

 

Of course, for Lola this is more fodder for the fapper.

Then there’s Floss and Nikki of FlossDoesLife and LoveIsAFetish, respectively.  They both have written raving reviews of the Match, Cinder & Spark books and, what gets Lo going even more, took sexy pics of themselves getting off to the printed page.  What else are you going to do in isolation?

Floss & Lola

Nikki of LoveIsAFetish getting off to Match, Cinder & Spark

Both Matt and Nelson of tehben.com have also written glowing, yet critical reviews of the audiobook, narrated by the inimitable Jupiter Grant.

The Beautiful Jupiter Grant

Not only do the reviews get Lo riled up, but Lo listens to Jupiter recite tales of Lo’s ribald antics just about every night, which causes her to alternately laugh and lunge in the bed next to me.

Then there’s the various women Lola’s attempting to seduce via sexy chat: Chelle Silverstein, Francesca Demont, and a woman who goes by the cyber-chat name of Warm Skin. 

Warm Skin Getting off to Lo

Don’t get me wrong, this whole ordeal has taken its toll on all of us in so many ways, and Lo is not exempt from that.  There are the nights that Lo can’t sleep due to anxiety about losing her job.  Afternoons that Lo returns from food shopping and has a full-blown panic attack that she has contracted the virus and is certain to pass it on to me.  Lo’s greatest fear? – dying alone.  That means, if I die first, which is more than likely given our age difference, then who will be there for her?  So, worse than her getting sick, in her mind, is my getting sick and dying!  There is the frequent fretting about family members who are already fighting this virus in far-flung points on the map.  Yes, we don’t talk about family too much here, but we do have relatives who are now among the ever-growing statistics you read about in the news.

For Lo, the go-to stress relief from all this ever-higher mountain of seen and unseen woe is found right between her legs.

Lo practicing Social Distancing Stress Relief, pass it along.

Finally, of course, there is just your straight-up porn that Lo has been watching.  Lo has a penchant for amateur porn and her latest infatuation is with the couple Lindsey and Mike Love.  Just as Lo and I fulfill the fantasies of many of our fans, I believe, Lindsey and Mike live out the fantasy life of Lo.  A married couple who enthusiastically got into porn together from the tender age of eighteen and rise to amateur stardom, getting rich and having fun.  I think the thing that Lo likes the most about the pair is that they have a real relationship, a story, and that they are very open to exploring sex with all genders, together and solo.

An hour later, Lo emerged from the bedroom.  “Daddy, it’s hot in there.  Will you help me open the window?”

I entered Lo’s lair of self-love.  I opened the window with ease to let in the ocean breeze, but it immediately deflated downward.

“Is it broken?” asked Lo.

“I don’t know.  It definitely doesn’t stay up like it used to.”

Without missing a beat she quips, “I’m sure you can relate.”

Stay safe everyone and we’ll see you on the internet.

Lola in all her glorly!

Age Gap

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[We interrupt our regularly scheduled story (from the “Mount Bliss” mini-series) to bring you this tale of epistles and dildos.]

 

“Guess who got fan mail?” sung Lola teasingly.

“Oh, what a mystery,” I said flatly, “let me see. . . could it be Lola?”

“Well, uh, yeah.  Duh.  But in addition to me, guess who else.”

“I?”

“Yes you, Shakespeare!”

“And am I allowed to read this love letter?”

“Who said it was a love letter?”

“I just assumed.”

“Here,” she said, abruptly shoving the computer over to me at the breakfast table.

I looked at the email.  It read:

Dear Lola,

Eric asked me to write you something about his special experience with you.

You and my boyfriend Eric have had chats, I know.  He`s always busy with drawing ladies from the internet.  I don’t mind, as long as the women are total strangers and from the other side of the world and I don’t have to be his model.  And we promised each other that real sex is exclusively between us.  He can ‘use’ me anytime he likes. Luckily for him I also like sex very much, so he’s a happy camper.

He tells me everything and shows me all his work.  I must say, he has got some talent but he’s no Rembrandt yet.  It turns me on sometimes when he’s busy drawing.  He sure knows his female anatomy.  At least he knows mine real well.

He told me that you would like Eric to ejaculate all over the pictures you send.  I asked him if he would do that.  He said: If you are ok with it?

I said, I don’t mind as long it’s a pic and not for real.

The thought of him jerking off over your pic was actually exciting me!  So I suggested to help him a little. . . .  That he didn’t expect.  LOL.

We agreed to do it that night.  That night I got him naked.  I kept my shirt and panties on.  I watched him stroking his cock.  It was rock-hard from the start.

I whispered some dirty words in his ears, reading from your blog, and brushed my big soft tits on his back and arms and everywhere.

I got excited a little too.  Seeing him stroking his cock for another girl and me working him up, I was soaking my panties.  I saw some precum on his cock.  I licked it away, pulled my shirt up and let him suck my breasts.  I grabbed his cock as he looked at your photos and I read to him as best I could – one eye on the words and one on his rod.

It wasn’t long before he came all over you.  I mean, all over your pic.  I must confess I swallowed a lot of it.

After that we made this photo for you. Hope you like it.

I got so horny that I wanted him to lick me and he made me come.  I was really dripping wet. After that he penetrated me real tenderly.  Only after half an hour did he eject another load in my pussy.  He obviously had to reload.  LOL.  He even ate my cream-pie!  It was great!

So Lola, thanks for the question you asked.  You are looking very young and lovely.  How old are you?  And have you ever had experience with women?  I don’t mind that.  And how is your boyfriend looking?  And do you have sex often?  Maybe we can exchange some nice pictures?

We hope to hear from you!

Bye now and kisses,

Eric and Charlotte

From Eric and Charlotte

“Lo,” I said after reading it.

She looked up at me, anticipating my reaction.

“It’s all about you.  She wants you.  This isn’t fan mail for me.  It’s adoration of the goddess for you!”

“She said she was reading your writing.”

“One line of the entire letter indirectly alludes to me and you call it my fan mail?!  Good grief!  A bigger egomaniac I never met!”

“Egomaniac or nymphomaniac?  Which is it?”

“Both!!!”

“Fine,” she said.  “I was just teasing with that.  Here’s the real fan mail,” she said, clicking on a different message from her in-box.

I read:

Dear H.H.,

Your power with words penetrates me deeply.  It’s so potent that I lose myself and end up in a place where I am with both of you.  You’re that good!  You’re the type of good that I can begin to feel you.  All I want is to reach through my screen and kiss you.  Taste you.  I’m very selfish, so I may just have to have you all to myself while Lola watches us. Be forewarned.

xoxoxo,

Jen X

Jen X

She also sent a few sexy photos of her as attachments.

“Why are you showing me this?” I asked because she usually keeps me at a “healthy” distance from temptation.  Except her temptation, of course.

“I thought it was sweet.”

“It was sexy and direct.”

“Just like me.”

“Exactly, which is why I’m suspicious of your motives.  You despise anyone who attempts to seduce me.  Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No no no,” she laughed as she got up from the table and moved very close to me.  “Show me you love me.”

“I show you with my words.”

“I want you to show me with your cock.”

“Lo, it’s eight in the morning on a Sunday!”

“Exactly.  This could be our fun day.”

“I get it now,” I said.  “You showed me that to arouse me.  You are only interested in getting your needs met.”

“On Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, sex is the top tier.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Well, it’s up there.”

“No it’s not.  Self-Actualization is top.”

“Well, I’m just going to have to go self-actualize myself, if you’re not going to do it for me.”

She sauntered to the bedroom, removing an article of clothing with each couple of steps down the hall.

As you well know, dear reader, Lo is half my age and at least double my libido.  As much as I try to satisfy her cravings, putting logs in the fire so to speak, it only makes a bigger fire of desire that burns through the logs twice as fast.  Buddha was well aware of this maddening math.  I’ve tried to steer clear of becoming consumed by coitus and I’ve finally reached an age where I can transfigure the intensity of my love from physical acts to intellectual creations.

“Your writing is just mental masturbation,” Lo called down the hallway.

“And your masturbation is just. . .physical. . . masturbation,” I responded with a repartee that fell flat as the pancake I was eating.

I turned the computer back toward me and scrolled through Lo’s other fan mail.  Something caught my eye.  It was an exchange between her and a man named Nero Black.  Nero is another middle-aged married man.  Like me, his wife spends much of her sex-drive on self-pleasure, getting off to all manner of taboo literotica.  Unlike me, she doesn’t first try to use him as a sex toy.  In their exchange, Lola had encouraged Nero to sneak mysexlifewithlola.com into his wife’s reading list somehow, or to buy one of the books or the audiobook for his wife to read.  Lo was convinced that if the two of them were to enter into the dregs of desire together, they would find each other there in the darkness of their depravity.

But for whatever reason, Mr. Black was hesitant to take Lo up on this suggestion.  He was in a sexual rut.  His wife was busy getting herself off in the bedroom while Mr. Black was jacking off in the bathroom.  But rarely did the two sex drives cross paths.  Unable to convince Mr. Black to break this pattern, perhaps because he was secretly fond of it, Lo did the next best thing – try to get Mr. Black to get off to her.

Mr. Black had written about how his wife caught him stroking himself to some porn in the bathroom and she just ignored it, with the exception of a snide remark, as if that kettle wasn’t blacker than Mr. Black.  Lo then clamored to Mr. Black to please please please use her photo next time he has a hankering for a wankering.  She even sent him a variety of choice shots to shoot his load to.  She was also hoping he would get caught by the Mrs. while looking at Lo’s image.

There is a certain pattern that emerged from the correspondences I found in Lo’s naughty letter box.  The women who wrote to me were all younger.  I guess I’m so old that statistically speaking, almost all of them will be younger.  And the men Lo wished to worship her were all older – around my age, and mostly married.

It’s true that, like Charlotte, there were a number of women around Lo’s age who also took a fancy to Lo.  But there most decidedly was an age gap between our respective fans.

A dug a little further and saw that dear Mr. Black had indeed used one of Lo’s pornographic images to find his sweet release and he even paid Lo the highest compliment of writing about it!

I walked into the bedroom to find Lo making sweet love to the greatest fuck of her life – herself.

“What is this?!” I demanded, not waiting for her to complete the self-impalement that she was engaged in with her glass dildo.

She didn’t stop.  She looked up, her right hand still rapidly thrusting in-and-out between her legs.

“Get behind me,” she commanded, evading the question and turning on all fours at the same time.

I thought she wanted me to replace the dildo with my own tool.  I was wrong.

“Grab it,” she said, indicating the handle of the dildo.  “Fuck it,” she said, indicating her pussy.  “Faster,” she said.  “Harder,” she said.  “Deeper,” she said.

As she gave me instructions, she scrolled through her photos until she came to one that tickled her fancy.

Her pussy exploded, rocketing out the glass dildo like a missile propelled by a water cannon!  She’s lucky that her discharge was aimed back at me and down at the bed or else her computer would be beyond repair.

When the waterworks were over and I had dried off, Lo was in the bathroom doing who-knows-what.  I looked at the image and accompanying story that had set her off.

“Wait!  What?!” I exclaimed.

“Don’t look!” she called to me from behind the bathroom door.

But there’s some things you just can’t unsee.

It was an illustration, thank goodness, and not an actual photo.  With it was a confession from an older woman who reported to Lola that she found her son looking at Lo’s photos and the blog.

The mother tried to use the opportunity as a “teaching moment.”

She said to her son, “It’s ok, son, Dad also gets off to Lola Down.”

“I know,” he said, ashamed, his face in his hands, “This is his computer.”

“You see,” she said, consoling him, “It’s normal.”

“But,” he began haltingly, embarrassed to say the next few words, “I’m logged on to your account.”

The mother tried not to flinch or to show any sign of embarrassment herself.  Teach by example.  It was true, she had found the blog through her husband’s search history and she had secretly fapped her snatch to it.  But now the family secrets were revealed and they revolved around Lola.

Sorry to see her son’s erection had not dissipated even through this difficult conversation, the mother offered, “Let me help you.  You’ll feel better, I promise.”

Wow!  I can’t even go into the details of what this housewife and mom shared with Lola about what happened next, but I think you get the idea.

Now, I thought, I bet that’s a story that Mrs. Black would really enjoy.

Slut Seminar

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[We take a break from our regularly scheduled programming of “Mount Bliss” in order to bring you this brief story that was published in the April Issue of ENM Magazine (Ethical Non-Monogamy). ENM only launched in January of this year and now, due to COVID-19, is struggling. Please stop by and support them. Thanks.]

“It is hard to imagine ‘slut’ being reclaimed the way ‘queer’ was, as a respectable label for academic programs and cultural centers.” (“Slut: The Other Four Letter S-Word,” on Fresh Air, WHYY, NPR, March 13, 2012)

The course was only open to graduate students and doctoral candidates.  They were mostly from the Women’s Studies department, but some were from English and/or Comp. Lit.  One or two were from the Philosophy department and one from the Religious Studies/Theology department.  It didn’t matter where they came from; what mattered was that they came.

Slut Seminar

This was the cutting edge of academia: Slut Studies.  The syllabus was a stroll down all the dark, forbidden stacks of the salacious, suggestive, censored and censured, prurient, perverted, plucky and poetic pornographic literature of the centuries.

It culminated with an in-depth reading and analysis of Match, Cinder & Spark.  The professor was only a few years older than the students, if that.  The student body was female and most of them either lusted for or loathed the professor because she was either the woman they wanted to bed or the woman they wanted to be.

They listened intently to her lectures and were eager to contribute to the lively debate about the nature of the nympho.

The English Lit student, Yael, said, “I think that Lola is a metaphor, a symbol, maybe even a mythic archetype.”

“Of what?” replied the professor.

“Of the receptive, open, accepting, and limber principle of life.  The Great Feminine.  And her squirting episodes are emblematic of the fluidity of life.”

“Like Yin in Taoism?” inquired the professor.

“Or it could be the other way around,” chimed in the Theology student.

“What do you mean by that?” asked the professor, genuinely confused.

“I mean. . .” began Sarah, the seminarian, searching for the right formulation of her thoughts, “that maybe we need to reimage our notion of God.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” said the professor.  “How does that relate to the text?”

“Well, for millennia, God was understood as a stern, strict, father figure.  Or, even if we look at the New Testament, a chaste, pure, abstemious saintly sufferer.  There’s little room for pleasure, sex, sexuality, or love that borders on desire in those paradigms.  Without a sex-positive godhead, how can you be sex-positive giving head?”

There were some chuckles in the classroom at that comment.

“No, seriously,” she implored, “maybe Lola is the avatar of a sex-positive spirituality.”

“That seems to bring us right back to Plato’s Diotima,” the professor said, trying to reframe the discussion and put it on an academic foundation.

“I don’t see why we have to contextualize the cunt in such highfalutin imagery,” interrupted one Marxist from the class.

The professor wasn’t sure if her use of “cunt” was literal or synecdoche.

“I mean,” said Mandy the Marxist, “there’s a direct correlation between the pussy and the personality.  It’s that simple.  Open, warm, welcoming, easy, or tight, closed, and constricting.  One either gives and receives or one is greedy and rejecting.”

To that comment, there was a big uproar in the class.  It seemed everyone wanted to criticize Mandy.

One voice eventually won out over the din.  “That is so black and white!  So dualistic!”  It was Penny, the philosopher.  “You Marxists are just Hegelian dialectical materialists.  It’s either/or with you.”

“Please, please,” refereed the professor, “There’s no need to be so personal.”

“I’m not being personal,” said Penny.  “I’m not attacking Mandy.  Just her philosophical assumptions.”

“Well, let’s make sure that we’re all clear about that,” the professor said, trying to keep the calm.

“Lola is more complex than goddess/whore, open/closed, yin/yang.  Yes, she has a lot of sex, with herself and others.  But, ultimately, she’s just human with human foibles, human desires, and she’s flesh and blood.”

“She’s a literary character,” interrupted Yael.

“I mean,” said Penny, “she’s depicted like a human of flesh and blood.”

“Actually,” said the professor, “she is a human of flesh and blood.”

“What?” gasped many of the women.

“Well, yeah,” said the professor, a bit embarrassed that she let the pussy out of the bag.  “I know her.”

“You know her?!” one of the students asked in disbelief.  “I thought this was fiction.”

“It says right on it ‘roman à clef,’” she said.

“Meaning?” asked one of the students.

“That’s a look-it-up question,” shot back the surly professor.  She had no patience for graduate students who don’t use the incredibly convenient tools at their disposal, like the internet.  “It means a text in which the characters are based on real people, but their identities are slightly concealed.”

“So Lola is a real person and you know her?”

The professor nodded.

They were all on the edge of their seats waiting for her to reveal more.

“I think now is a good time to take a break,” said the professor.

Hotwives in Training

While outside the classroom, the students chatted, musing amongst themselves, “Do you think she is Lola?” one asked, referring to the hot professor.

“No way,” said another.

“Could be,” pondered a third.

“I bet she is Lola,” said a fourth.

“You’re totally wrong,” said another.

“How do you know?”

“Because, it’s a ‘look-it-up question’,” she said, mimicking the professor’s snide tone.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I looked up Lola Down and found so much!”

Everyone took out their phones and started looking her up.

Ooos and Ahhhs were heard before they were stifled as the professor walked by and all the women compared what they saw on their phones to the professor’s curvy figure in her tight dress as she pranced past them.

They followed her in, each formulating a theory about the fount of her personality.

Yael Wolfe

 

[This story was inspired by Yael Wolfe (@yaelwolfehowls). Lola & HH also are very thankful to the gentlemen at Tehben.com (Matthew Burroughs and Nelsen Rockingham) who have thoughtfully reviewed three of the Match, Cinder & Spark books. We avidly welcome other scholars, such as John of astijake.wordpress.com and Dr. Kasey Butcher of phdsandpigtails.com, to write a scholarly review.]

Kasey Butcher, Ph.D.

Kinksters Connect Despite Cornonavirus

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Hello Friends, Fans, Readers, and Rogues,

These are challenging times, especially for kinksters who like to fuck and fuck a lot.

In order to help us all feel more connected, we (HH & I) are going to do our best to make our community feel as connected as possible.

Recently we read about two of our favorite bloggers struggling. (Right now they are just struggling mentally, not economically or with health issues, but mental health is as important or more important than everything else.)

Please reach out to them and show them some love.  No, show them LOTS of love!

The first is one of my besties, The Lustful Empress.  She recently wrote a post in which she said she was having some body image issues.

We think she is absolutely fabulous!  She’s turning 40 soon, so wish her a great new decade please.

Our other blogging buddy is Cara Thereon. We go WAY BACK with her and she’s one of the OG kinkster blogging folks from when we started and we have remained friends ever since. We just saw her recently and were so jealous of her going again to Eroticon while we stayed home.  But, alas, Eroticon was cancelled due to Coronavirus.  Cara has been suffering from daily panic attacks ever since traveling and she too could use some of your love.

Here are TLE and CT from some of their posts over the years. You can see that they are BEAUTIFUL people. Their writing and personalities are just as beautiful.

Stay safe & sexy everyone!

Love,

Lola & HH

p.s. – If you’re a kinkster blogger and you’re struggling, drop us a line.

The Lustful Empress with Lola