Lo was just about to walk out of Suzanne’s room, finally, when Suzanne called to her, “Lo. One more thing.”
Lo turned around. Suzanne had removed the comforter from her bed and put it in Lo’s arms. “Drop this in the laundry please.”
Lo didn’t ask questions. She could feel the cum from me leaking out of her ass and also some from her earlier encounter leaking from her pussy down the inside of her thigh.
That parting word from Suzanne further exacerbated Lo’s misgivings about this newly formed “friendship.”
Lo walked down the dark hallway to the laundry area, dropped the comforter in the machine, and then began walking back towards the room we were sharing, but her return to my side got interrupted. Collin appeared from out of the darkness, holding in his hand a tumbler of scotch on the rocks.
“How’d that go?” he asked in a whisper.
After the initial fright of seeing him, Lo burst into tears in his arms and cried. To his credit, he held her and comforted her. He then led her to his room, not mine. Foiled again.
In his spacious bedroom, Lo said she wanted to shower. She repeated her performance of the previous night, stripping down in front of him and getting clean in the open-plan shower as he watched from the bed.
Just after she had turned off the water, he stood next to her holding a plush towel for her. She took it, dried off and then he held her naked body and kissed her.
“Lo, how I wish I could. . .” He trailed off. He kissed her passionately and she reciprocated. Out of force of habit or sheer lust, she removed his clothes until he was naked. She dropped down to the floor, her knees by his feet, her mouth by his flaccid cock. She remembered Suzanne’s words, “a man who pursues power.”
Lo, in her complex psychology, not only wanted to give Collin the feeling of power that his impotent phallus couldn’t provide, but, in so doing, gain the upper hand. All Lo’s life she had used her body, her sexuality, her physicality, her animalistic lust, and her intellect to dominate men. She liked the feeling of superiority that her feminine allure gave her over weak, needy, desperate men. Knowing that a simple yet mysterious glance, an inadvertent caress, an apparently careless reveal could put a man fully in her power pleased her. She didn’t have to sleep with him to experience the high of this advantage. It was satisfying enough to know her relative position vis-à-vis men without being in the physical position of dominating them. But, the sex was often an added bonus.
Perhaps that was why she not only liked or loved me, but remained with me. I was the only man who dared say no to her. I was her great challenge. And loving other men was just one of the tools she used to keep me cumming to her. Simultaneously, my permissiveness and apparent lack of jealousy and independence of her was her Everest. I knew full well that the day I forbade her her freedom, denied her her sexual denizens, or revealed any indication of my being beholden to her magical spell, that would be the day that she would move on to a bigger challenge.
I digress. Lo had found a way to build Collin’s deflated ego through the use of his droopy dick, the source of his diminished self-esteem.
Lo sat on the floor of the shower, spread her legs wide, leaned back, supporting her weight with her arms, and looked up at Collin. “Grab it,” she commanded.
Collin reached down and held his sloping shlong in his right hand.
“Aim,” instructed Lo.
“Point it at me and shoot.”
Now Collin caught on.
“Use it. Drench me. Disgrace me. Degrade me. Cover me in your urine. Soak me in your pee. Humiliate me in your hot piss.”
Lola began fingering her hole as Collin confidently released his stream, raining down on Lo’s head, hair, face, chest, tits, tum, and pussy.
“Come on!” she said, opening her mouth. “Just like at the amusement park.”
He got it in, filling her up until he ran out of ammunition.
“You like that?” she asked him.
“That was. . . crazy,” he said, clearly stunned by the sloppy slut slipping and sliding on the tiles by his feet.
She slithered toward him and stretched her wet hands up his legs to his cock and took it in her mouth. No response, as she suspected. But she enjoyed it nonetheless.
She stood, rubbing her wet body against his hard body and then kissed him, open mouth, while simultaneously cupping his balls in her right hand.
“Whatever Suzanne does,” she said in an authoritative whisper, “I do dirtier.”
She knew she had him in her power now. Even if he couldn’t get it up, showing his appreciation with his rigid manhood, or cum for her like a suppliant pouring forth tribute, she knew he was hers. She had conquered her quest. She had ascended the top of Mount Bliss.