“Where are you?!” She was upset.
“Parking was difficult,” was all I could muster.
“Well, I’m in the hotel lobby and there’s like three different restaurants here. I don’t see them.”
“I’m on my way,” I said as I picked up my pace. What the hell was this, Mission Impossible?
When I walked in the hotel lobby I saw my stunning little strumpet standing dead center. I looked to my left and there was the entrance to a bustling restaurant. I looked to my right and there was another restaurant and just off center was a bar packed with people — a combination of stockbrokers in suits and weekend tourists in casual, yet spiffy attire. I looked up and there were balconies with leather couches on three floors surrounding the atrium of the lobby where we stood.
I walked up to Lo and she said, “I think they’re up there,” as her head nodded behind her, “up there.” I looked behind her. “No, up there!” She was trying to indicate the balcony above us where a couple sat rigidly on a couch. I looked up at them. “Don’t look at them,” she said with annoyance.
“How am I supposed to tell if that is they?”
“I feel stupid,” she said with an air of defeat, “they’ve been watching me standing here like an idiot waiting for you.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sure they’re just admiring you. You’re on display for them.”
“I don’t want to be on display,” she said from between her clenched teeth, faking a smile.
“Let’s go say hi. Shall we?” I said as I extended my arm for her to wrap her hand around, leading her to the elevators.
We approached and I felt vindicated. These were no hippy-dippies, nor hipsters as Lo had feared. They were two perfectly well dressed, handsome, and surprisingly sophisticated college students. She was drinking red wine and he a G&T.
We introduced ourselves. They stood up with good manners and, when I shook Zach’s hand he impressed me because his handshake was firm, but gentle and he did not do the classic blunder that so many men think they must do: try to show me how strong he is with his grip. Rather, after grasping my right hand with his, he put his left hand over both of them in a very kind manner. I appreciated that small, yet meaningful gesture. It showed both a calm confidence and warmth on his part and it put me at ease.
Lo and I sat on a couch across a coffee table from them. It was formal, yet intimate. I had the feeling that these little booths were made with exactly this sort of rendezvous in mind.
“First of all,” I said, “thank you for being real.”
They chuckled a bit. “Thank you for not being weirdoes,” said Erin.
We laughed. “This internet meet-up thing can be sketchy,” said Lo.
As I looked at them, I knew right away that I liked them. She was attractive and poised and he was handsome, calm and friendly. Their demeanor instantly made us feel welcome and very quickly we got to talking like old friends catching up with each other.
They brought up the blog and told us how much they admire my writing and Lo’s sexy pics. “Thank you,” I said, a little uncomfortable since I don’t often hear compliments in person. “My mind, her body,” I added rather arrogantly.
Lo elbowed me and said, “It’s all me. You just get to write about it. And, besides, where would you be without my spelling and grammar editing?”
I conceded her point.
“Are you surprised at all?” I asked the young couple.
“By what?” asked Erin.
“Oh, I don’t know. On the blog you don’t get to see Lo’s face. Maybe you were worried. And I don’t appear hardly at all.”
“But when you do appear, you are hard,” said Lo under her breath.
“She’s gorgeous!” said Erin as her eyes lit up looking at Lo. “Exactly what I was hoping for and expecting.”
“Yeah,” said Zach, “you two make a great pair, in your stories and in person.”
“Shucks,” said Lo, squeezing my knee. She was nervous. I could tell. I was just delighting in it all. I love to bask in the reflected aura of Lo’s spotlight. To see them both look at Lo and admire her was quite satisfying for me. And, on top of that, to have my writing complimented so lavishly — I was in heaven.
After not too long I asked if Lo would like a drink. She ordered her usual French martini. I looked to Zach and Erin and asked if they wanted anything and was relieved when they said they didn’t because I was feeling very uncomfortable about the prospect of purchasing alcohol for them. Yet, I didn’t want to be rude.
I excused myself and left Lo alone with her two admirers.
Down at the bar the crowd had grown and drunken businessmen were trying to hit on the married women in town for a vacation. It was a stark contrast to our civil quartet.
When I returned we had a prolonged q&a session getting to know each other better. We sipped our drinks intermittently, but when we finished them, talk turned to the next phase of our evening. They invited us back to their place.
We got up and walked down the cobblestone street — a real challenge for Lo in her heels — to their adorable one-bedroom apartment. Inside they made us feel welcome as Lo sat on the couch next to Erin and Zach fixed a drink for Lo and me.
Here, in the privacy of their home, we all felt more at ease to speak freely. Erin began by telling us, “Well, you see, whenever I watch porn and ‘jill it’ — I love that expression! Is it your own? — it’s always to lesbian porn.”
Lo was a keen listener.
“And then, a while back, there was this pool party. There were about ten of us there — guys and girls. We decided to go skinny dipping and we all were having fun when. . .”
She broke off and looked at Zach to continue.
“Some people paired off and started having sex — right there, with everyone around! And Erin and her friend, they paired off and started kissing. . .”
Before he could finish the sentence, Erin chimed in, “We were sitting on the side of the pool, naked, next to each other and kissing led to touching and touching led to fingering.”
“They were fingering each other and making out,” said Zach, “and, you know, a lot of the guys there didn’t have anyone to pair up with and so they just watched from in the pool.”
“After a bit of that,” said Erin, “I swam over to Zach and he. . . he and I did it in the pool, under water. It was amazing.”
They looked at each other, fondly remembering the moment. I could almost picture a bubble appearing between them as they both appeared to be looking into that magical crystal ball conjuring up images of that evening.
“The next day,” said Erin, “my friend and I didn’t even mention it, but I knew I wanted to be with another woman again — soon.”
“Do you cum with men?” asked Lo.
“I do, but, but never internally. It’s either before or after and always clitoral.”
“So you can cum — with someone and alone?
“Oh yeah. Definitely.”
“Have you ever used a dildo?” I asked.
“No,” she said.
“Maybe a good, long, hard dildo could help you figure out what works for you. I mean, if you want to have an internal orgasm,” said Lo.
“I’d like to try that,” Erin said looking directly at Lo. “How do you orgasm?” asked Erin of Lo.
Lo just smiled mischievously and said, “I’m pan-orgasmic.”
“Pan-orgasmic?” asked Erin. “What’s that?”
I spoke for Lo: “She can cum in all manner of ways — clitoral, g-spot, anal, through her nipples. . . .”
I was just getting started when Lo interrupted, “I even cum from getting a pedicure.”
“What?!” asked both Zach and Erin in unison.
“It’s true,” I said. “I’ve seen it.”
“He’s such a creep,” said Lo. “He actually came to the salon to watch. But, yeah, I can’t help myself. It just feels so good. I have to hold up a magazine to conceal the contortions of my face.”
They giggled a little and I added, “Lo can even cum through nibbling on her earlobe.”
“An ‘eargasm,’” Lo said.
“My God!” said Erin, a little jealous.
Talk turned to Zach who told us about his experiences. Turns out that in high school he really blossomed due to a part-time job he had on a local college campus. Rather than all the college girls ignoring him as “merely” a high schooler, he got a lot of attention from them and even was invited to a dorm for a threesome with two women.
That brought him out of his shyness shell and soon he found a girlfriend — someone in his own high school. Coincidentally, she turned out to be a nymphomaniac as well. But, unlike Lo, who’s nymphomaniacal tendencies manifest in usually positive and even cute ways (that’s my take, anyhow), this ex of his had a very dark and troubled streak to her.
As he told us stories about her, Lo and I exchanged knowing glances that said, “Yep that sounds like you,” or “Yep, I’d like that.” At one point he said, “She’d beg me to cum on her face.” He turned to Erin and said sweetly, “I’m so glad you never asked for that. I just think it’s demeaning.”
Lo, to my surprise, rather than sit in steamy silence, spoke up and said, “I can understand that, but some people like that.”
They both looked at Lo and, coming to her aid I just said, “Yeah, Lo loves it and asks me for it all the time.” Lo licked her lips just thinking about it.
Zach went on, “This woman, though,” trying to draw a distinction between Lo and his ex, “wanted sex all the time: in the car, in the bushes, at the movie theater, during classes.”
“During classes?” I asked, not able to envision how that was possible.
“Yeah, she’d text me to meet in the bathroom of school and we’d lock ourselves in a stall and she’d go down on me there and have me do her right there.”
I was thankful that they couldn’t see the light bulbs going off over Lo’s head and mine because every scenario he was describing was something Lo did. I mean, we weren’t in high school together, but at a wedding she led me to the bathroom to do it in a stall with her. One day while furniture shopping, she led me to the store’s storage room for the mattresses, unzipped my pants, bent over, and had me do her there. Frequently, while driving late at night she keeps me from falling asleep at the wheel by pulling out my cock from my pants and planting her face in my lap. She even continued to do it once as I paid a toll at a toll booth. I could go on, but we have a story to tell here. Suffice it to say that the more he talked about his ex like she was off her rocker, the more Lo and I were beginning to think that perhaps we weren’t the couple for this couple — or at least not for him.
But then he added, “It wouldn’t have been so bad — I mean the sex was great — but she was demanding, controlling, and would explode if I ever voiced a preference that was different from hers.”
The word that he was trying to express, but didn’t, was consent. Lo said it for him.
“I think, what you’re saying is that she forced you. She pressured you to do things you weren’t comfortable with.”
“Yeah, that’s it exactly! She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Again, all of his statements resounded in my ears like he was talking about Lo. I’m not sure how she heard it. She was very compassionate in her listening to his tale of woe and she frequently pointed out where his ex crossed the line of consent to coercion. Lo and I have an understanding. Lo and I both know that I am happily, enthusiastically, and very consensually with Lo. But she does have a way of. . . of pressing her case shall we say.
As he spoke, Lo and Zach seemed to gain an understanding of each other, though, poor fella, I don’t know if he really knows what he’s in for with her.
The conversation continued on about comfort levels and expectations and at one point Lo said to Erin, but for all of us to hear and mainly meant for Zach and me, “Maybe the boys could go for a walk and give us some alone time.”
We took the hint and we gave our respective ladies a little kiss good-bye. There’s something so special about that parting kiss on the lips — the one where you know that within mere moments she’s going to be using those lips on someone else.
Now, my dear reader, if you are asking yourself, “Where’s the sex?” and, seeing that there is no more to this installment you are saying, “Come on!” well, that’s exactly why this chapter was called “The Cum-On.” To find out how our story ended that night, you must wait till the next installment.
[From the blog: mysexlifewithlola.com]