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“Come,” I heard her yell from the bedroom down the hall as I walked into the house after a long Friday at work. She might have been saying “Cum!” to a lover. There’s never any way to tell from the sound of her voice — only on the page.

I cautiously walked down the long hall to the bedroom. What would I find?

The door was open a crack. I peeked in. She was naked, on her tum, her round rump nicely illuminated by the setting sun. Her legs were bent at the knees and her bare feet dangled up in the air, twined around each other. In her hand she held her phone.

“Come in, Daddio,” she said without turning her eyes from the screen in front of her.

I walked in and removed my jacket and tie.

“What you up to?” I inquired.

“I bet you’d like to know.”

“That is why I asked,” I said flatly as I removed my shirt and undid my belt.

“Get naked, get hard, and get in me,” she commanded.

“I’m already hard,” I said.

“As you should be,” she replied, moving her hand to her mouth, licking her fingers and then moving her hand to her ass and circling her wet fingers around her special spot.

“Oh,” I commented, “You want it like that?”

“No, Daddio,” she said, “I’m just enjoying myself.”

Always coy when it comes to her ass. Always for someone else, or for her own pleasure, but never for me.

I got behind her and tried to look at her phone by leaning forward over her back and seeing over her shoulder.

“Get up there and fuck me,” she instructed, her finger still rounding her sweet spot as I slid into her puss. “I’ll tell you what I’m looking at.”

I did as she said and she told me that a fellow blogger, a woman named TJ, wrote to us saying, “I love reading your blog. It gets me so wet.”

“Really?! Do I know this TJ?” I asked as I thrusted harder.

“She writes The Lustful Empress.”

I slowed down a bit trying to remember which erotic blog that was.

“Don’t stop!” Lo said as her hand grabbed the girth of my cock and she pushed her ass back into my hips, bouncing off of my bare bodkin.

I resumed my powerful, pleasurable, pelvic pounding.

“Look,” she said, putting her phone up on her back for me to read the email. It said:

I love how accepting you are of Lola’s magnificent sexuality. You guys seem to have ‘it’ don’t you? I wish I could masturbate as openly as you do, Lola. I feel self-conscious, like an addict or something. But I fucking love fucking myself. . . it’s the best. I am more autosexual than anything else I think. Keep celebrating each other.

Fan mail like that makes it all worth it. Well, that’s not completely true. I know that I would be writing all this whether no one read it, or only one person read it — Lola. But knowing that others read it, enjoy it, and get off to it is the icing on the cake.

Speaking of icing, as I read the email, Lo began to climax as one hand worked her ass and the other, from underneath, worked her clit. Her Kegel muscles contracted and I was squeezed out of her as she curled into a convulsing, throbbing ball, squirting uncontrollably. The more she pushed her knees up to her breasts in a tightly bound fetal position, the more she sprayed the bed and my knees. I lifted up her phone to prevent it from being ruined by the liquid.

“Fuuuu-uuuuck,” she groaned as the last bit of lady juice spurted out of her.

When she regained control of her limbs, she slowly got up and pulled the soaked sheets with her, dropping them in the laundry basket. “I’ll clean up, Daddy, but right now I have to get ready.”

“Ready for what?” I asked, holding my throbbing, hard rod in my hand.

“My date.”

“Date?”

“With Robert. I told you, didn’t I?”

I just looked dumbfounded.

“We’re going to the movies.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“And what are you seeing?”

The Favourite.”

“Is he your favorite now?” I asked, demoralized.

“No, Daddio, she said, caressing me and looking up at me with those beautiful big brown eyes. “That’s the name of the movie. It’s a period piece.”

“Really? Not a porno?”

“Well, I hear it has a lot of woman-on-woman sex scenes.”

“I knew it!”

“But that’s not why we’re going to see it.”

“You’re going to see it to have sex in a crowded theater.”

“Oh, Daddy, you always impute to me the most debased of motives.”

“So why are you going to see it?”

“It’s historical. It has great sets, acting, and costumes.”

“And?”

“And probably to fuck in a dark theater.”

“Don’t get caught.”

“But getting caught is at least half the fun. Does that make you jealous?” she asked, as her hand stroked my hard cock.

“So you’re leaving me home alone on a Friday night?”

“Not totally alone,” she said, “You have TJ.”

“Who?”

“TJ, the woman from the blog.”

“Oh, right,” I said to my consolation prize.

Lola made the bed and I watched her tits droop as she bent over to tuck in the sheets. Her naked body moved like a delightful dance as she unfurled the blanket.

“Look,” she said, as she hopped back in the bed and took up her phone. I sat next to her. Her left hand stroked my hard erection up and down as she scrolled through TJ’s blog with her right hand.

We read and looked at the photos together.

“She sounds like she could be your twin sister,” I said as I read about how TJ becomes aroused by her own naked body.

“Hold this,” she said, giving me the phone.

Now, with her right hand she was stroking her pussy and I scrolled through the blog.

“Oh boy,” I said, “You want her.”

Lo bit her lower lip.

“Lo,” I cautioned, “You just made the bed. You don’t want to. . .”

Before I could finish my sentence, she had jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before releasing her ejaculate all over the tile floor with a scream.

When she had regained her composure, she got some paper towels and got on her hands and knees to clean up the mess.

“What time is your movie?”

“Eight,” she called back. “But we’re meeting for drinks first.”

“Well, you’re going to be late,” I told her.

She jumped in the shower and I continued to look at the blog, hard up.

“Hey,” she called to me, “you’re not allowed to cum. You know that, right?”

“I still don’t understand how that is fair,” I said, taunting her.

I got up and looked at her in the shower.

“Get!” she screamed. She hates when I see her in her shower cap.

“How is it fair that you get to cum twice and then go on a date with another man and I’m not allowed any autoerotica myself?”

“First,” she said from behind the shower curtain, “it’s not autoerotic if you use someone else’s pictures. Second, you didn’t count the three times I came before you got home.”

“Lo, now you’re just. . .”

“And third,” she cut me off, “this has nothing to do with fairness. It has everything to do with me. What I want. What I allow you. Got that? Don’t forget it.”

Lo jumped out of the shower and hastily dried off before slipping into a blue dress and blue heels. No panties.

“You’re going to be cold like that,” I cautioned.

“I’m planning on things heating up quickly,” she said.

Soon enough she was out the door, leaving me alone.

I scrolled through TJ’s blog, which I recalled I had seen before, and I thought to myself, “She said no cumming, but she didn’t say no edging.”

I spent about an hour going through each and every post before I thought to myself, “If I don’t stop this right now, I’m going to explode!”

In order to take the edge off, I switched to photos of Lo, which are always fair game, and I pulled out the old Stoya Fleshlight. Lubing up Stoya and myself, I imagined what Lo was up to with Robert. I didn’t even need to see Lo’s photos. Soon enough I was cumming and cumming hard and deep in Stoya’s pussy, just thinking about Lo in a dark theater, legs spread, and Robert discretely moving his hand up her smooth thigh until reaching that wet pussy, pulsating with anticipation. Gently he would rub and flick her pussy lips, clandestinely making her cum. I pictured her hands gripping the seat and her upper teeth biting down on her bottom lip to prevent the scream from escaping her mouth. That was enough to bring me over the edge and release me into a deep sleep.

[From the blog: mysexlifewithlola.com]

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Just your average nymphomaniac next door. I love fan mail: downloladown@gmail.com

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