As She Likes It

Lola as Art

“Glass of water please Daddy” — read the text I had received from Lo.

I got up off the couch where I was distractedly trying to read a tome on Arthur Schopenhauer’s theory on Beauty and the Sublime. I had just arrived at his discussion of “the stimulating” and “the charming.” Of course I began thinking about my little Lo dressed for a night out. I recalled how one night at a bar, responding to an admirer who said she was dressed to kill, she said, “I’m just a sexy brunette in a little black dress and nothing else but my killer personality.” She then proceeded to lift the hem of her little black dress to demonstrate the truth of that statement and thereby disarmed the patron completely.

Schopenhauer was arguing how objects that stir the appetite are inappropriate subjects for art since their effect is counter to that of disinterested aesthetic contemplation. I was in the middle of making a note in the margin of the well-worn book, arguing with the German curmudgeon on just that point, when I received the text.

Lo was in the bedroom with the brothers. I was irritated because it was the third time that week that they had come over to use Lo as their personal pleasure provider and leave her after they had made her their cumdump.

I knocked lightly on the door before letting myself in. Lo was stretched out on the bed and I had entered just as the boys were in the process of switching places, tag-team style.

Lo looked at the glass of ice water I had in my hand and said, “Can you put it in my water-bottle with a straw dear?”

I left the room without closing the door. I poured the contents of the glass into her hydro flask, closed it, and returned. It was then that I noticed how soaked the sheets were.

“Thanks,” she said, reaching up and taking the bottle from my hands, drinking large sips immediately while one of the brothers — the one deep inside her spread legs — didn’t even relent a little bit with his jackrabbit thrusting at her thighs while she imbibed. I’m not sure he noticed I was there. I’m not even sure he noticed that Lo existed above her hips.

I left the room.

After the boys were done, about a half-hour later, and had returned to their home across the street, Lo sauntered into the living…