It was the week before Valentine’s Day. Lo and I had planned a mini-vacation weekend to ski country. I had booked us a special room at a resort hotel that included a wood-burning fireplace, a kitchenette, and, at the central fitness area, there was an indoor/outdoor heated pool, an indoor hot tub and a second outdoor hot tub. We were right on the mountain — ski off/ski in.
We arrived at night and since Lo had been diddling herself and telling me sordid stories from her past the whole drive there, she immediately got naked as I unpacked and brought in the groceries we had bought for the weekend.
She lay on the bed, legs spread, saying, “Daddy, don’t you want this?” as she slapped her pussy lips with her right hand.
I glanced at Lo’s untrimmed triangle and said, “Lo, that bush is so hot it’s on fire!”
“The burning bush, Daddio, the symbol of God on earth.”
“You said it! Just give me a minute to get this fire going and I’ll tend to yours.”
I stoked the fireplace and got it roaring and casting flickering yellow light in a few moments. Then I began to remove my shirt.
“Slowly, Daddy,” said Lo, “I want to enjoy this.”
I took off my clothes very slowly for Lo’s entertainment and then climbed into bed with her. The heat in the room was already pretty warm when we got there and before long she and I were creating quite a sweat. It was like a Bikram yoga studio in there. Mid-coitus we both had to stop and open up the sliding glass door that led out onto the mountain. I swear I could see the snow melting as the warm air escaped our room!
Lo got up and went into the shower. I heard the water streaming, the steam flowing out of the bathroom into the hot living room where I sat reading a book, and out the door into the cool mountain air, illuminated by the full moon in the clear night sky. After almost an hour, I heard her shrieks of ecstasy as she came multiple times.
She finally walked out of the bathroom, naked, revealing that her previously shag-like pubic area was now silky smooth. “I’m ready for you now,” she said.
“Good water pressure?” I asked.
“So good.”
“Bend over,” I commanded. She bent over the couch and I saw her ass, illuminated by the dancing flames from the fireplace. Cool air rushing in, hot air rushing out, Lo’s wet body in front of me, the fire behind me — it was as if we were in the womb of the earth with the primordial elements swirling about us, performing the holy act of creation.
I spread the two half-moons of her ass and applied my tongue to the central pleasure point. She let out a moan. I got on my knees and licked from back to front and back again as she spread her legs in the widest upside-down “V” that she could. Now it was like a Tantra yoga session.
I turned around, sat on the floor with my back up against the front of the couch and Lola slid her inner thigh up and down over my extended tongue. She came and she squirted right on me as I sat under her! I lapped it up as best I could.
“Fuck me, Daddy!” she demanded as she now turned, bent over the coffee table and I got behind her. Within mere seconds she was convulsing again. When Lo gets this excited, she involuntarily contracts the walls of her vagina and, despite my best efforts, squeezes me right out. It happened like that as she fell to her knees and ejaculated on the carpet.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she called out as it was happening.
“Don’t be,” I said, watching her with bemusement.
I grabbed some paper towels from the kitchenette and cleaned up after her.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so embarrassed. I feel like a puppy that needs to be housebroken.”
I laughed.
The next day we skied for a good few hours. We called it quits around three and then made plans for dinner.
We weren’t too far from a descent sized college town and Lo, foodie that she is, had already scoped out the best eats for a romantic dinner. She picked out my clothes for me saying, “This is a classy place. You can’t just go there in jeans, you know.” She followed it up with, “I wish you’d let me go shopping for you. All your clothes make you look like a stuffy old professor. Tweed? Really? Tweed?” She was referencing my dinner jacket. Nonetheless, she got me as presentable as humanly possible.
She, herself, was dressed to the nines. She loves any occasion to get dolled up. She wore a tight-fitting red dress that came down just past her knees and highlighted her curves. She wore strappy, flesh colored heels and to me she looked fabulous. The painful paradox about her amazing good looks and impeccable fashion taste is that as soon as she gets dressed up like that, I want to immediately rip off all her clothes and have her naked. The happiest solution to that paradox is to slip up her dress and do her from behind as she stands bent over the bed in her heels. But that was not to be on this occasion. She was too well put together for me to mess it all up with a wild romp before dinner.
When we got on the road it was still light out and I had recently got my hair cut shorter than usual. Lo looked over at me from the passenger seat and ran her hand through my hair and said, “Every time you get a haircut it brings out more grey.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No, I mean it in a good way,” she said. “You look hot with all that salt and pepper.”
“You sure you don’t just mean I look old?”
“Old and hot,” she said and then she leaned back, spread her legs, and grabbed my hand and placed it on her smooth knee. “Touch me.”
I caressed her knee.
“Keep going,” she instructed, meaning, keep working my way up her inner thigh. She pulled her dress up, and spread her legs further apart, putting a foot up on the dash. “You know the drill.” I leaned over a bit in order to put my hand on her crotch and stroke. Just as I did so, we almost got hit by an oncoming car swerving into our lane. “Hey! Two hands on the wheel!” Lo called out, clamping her legs together.
“But he. . .”
“And drive the speed limit.”
“Sweetheart, that says Route 5, not 5 miles per hour.”
“Oh.”
We avoided dying a gruesome death on the highway and pulled into a quaint little college town nestled in the foothills of the mountains.
“Wow,” said Lo, “look at that sign. It’s so retro.”
She was talking about a big sign over a diner that looked vintage 1950’s.
“I don’t think it’s retro, I think it’s just old,” I replied.
“No, it’s a classic.”
“Like me? Am I a classic?”
“No. You’re an antique.”
Soon we were at our destination. It was in one of the tallest buildings in town, a five story hotel. The restaurant was on the top floor. Lo and I walked into the lobby and got an elevator all to ourselves. Once the doors closed, she leaned up against me, kissing me and reaching for my crotch.
“Hey,” I protested, “there’s a camera in here, you know.”
“Even better,” she said as she pushed her breasts up in the tight dress for me to kiss.
The doors opened into a crowded bar that led to the restaurant.
Apparently, this was the only fine food in town since almost every table was full. Luckily Lo had called ahead of time to make reservations and we were seated next to an older couple (yes, even older than I by about twenty years) and because the tables for two were spaced in close proximity to each other, Lo and I politely said hello and smiled. The older couple was very gregarious and immediately started up a conversation with us. Lo and I quickly realized that they were under the impression that I was Lo’s father and I was visiting her here at her college. We did nothing to disabuse them of that notion and we played along with a secret maliciousness shared between us that excited us both. All through the conversation, Lo’s sexy foot was rubbing my leg up and down under the table.
The words that Lo usually saves for private, intimate moments were spoken freely and publicly, such as, “Thank you, Daddy, for coming. . . to visit me.”
“It’s my pleasure, little girl,” I responded, “I love coming. . . to visit. And I love it when you come. . . home to visit me too. I want you to come. . . more often.”
“Oh, Daddy, I promise to come as much as I can.”
This sort of silly banter gave us a perverse pleasure and I could see the desire in Lo’s eyes increasing as she played the role of naughty schoolgirl.
She was so eager to get back to the suite, that we skipped dessert. The older couple was having their (decaf) coffee after their meal when we got up to leave. We wished them a good night and they wished me a good visit. I politely helped Lo into her jacket, and then, as we walked out of the restaurant, I put my hand on her ass in a very possessive manner. We walked to the elevator, and in there she wrapped her body around mine and kissed me passionately. The doors opened to the lobby and I had to tap her to indicate that we were a spectacle to be seen by anyone in the lobby. She pulled herself off of me and straightened out her dress before walking into the lobby. I followed her and, to my surprise, she pulled me down a hall off to the right of the lobby.
“What? Where are you going?” I asked.
“Just shut up and follow me.”
Neither of us had ever been in this hotel before and so I wasn’t sure what she was doing. She opened up a door that led into a large linen closet filled with folded sheets and towels. She shut the door behind us and turned on the lights.
“Daddy, I can’t wait until we get home,” she said as her right hand unzipped my fly and reached in to fondle my cock and her left hand hiked up her dress, reached up and under it, and began rubbing her clit over her panties.
“Lo!” I protested.
“Shhhh!” she commanded.
“Lo, what if someone walks in here?”
“The maids only use this to make the beds in the morning. Don’t worry. We’re safe here for now. If you’d be quiet, this will only take a few seconds.”
She was pulling on my cock and rubbing her clit vigorously. She looked at my erection and I could see by the weakness of her knees that she really only had seconds to go before. . .
“Oh, oh, OH!” she called, biting her lip, trying to contain the volume of her orgasm. She let go of my member and fell back into the shelves on the wall. She leaned up against it for support as her fingers continued to rub out the orgasm to completion. I saw the panties transform from light pink to almost red as her ejaculate oozed through the material. Luckily she had enough towels for an army to soak up the wetness running down her inner thigh. When she was done pleasuring herself and drying off, she removed her soaked panties and wrapped them in a dry, white towel, putting them in her purse. She threw the dirty towels on the floor so no one would mistake them for the clean ones and she straightened her dress, pulling it down by the hem, and asked, “Do I look ok?”
“You look great,” I said, trying to put my erection back into my pants with difficulty.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Just a little flush in the face.”
I got my manhood to stand straight, but inside my boxers, and I zipped up my fly, tucked in my shirt and said, “I’m going to need a minute.”
Lo looked longingly at my crotch and said, “Oh yeah.”
Lo leaned in to kiss me full of passion.
“Lo,” I said, pulling back, “you’re not helping the situation.”
She and I stood awkwardly in the closet waiting for the emblem of my desire to subside.
A mere five or six minutes after we entered the linen closet, we walked out of it, apparently unnoticed.
We got into the car and she laughed at our mischievousness. Before we had even driven out of the parking lot, she had my fly undone, my cock out, and her face in my lap.
We got back to our little suite and, as she slipped out of the tight dress, I got the fire roaring and soon we were at it with her calling to me, “Daddy, fuck me! Fuck me, Daddy!” It took mere seconds before she was cumming again.
You can read more about the sexcapades of Lola and HH on their blog, mysexlifewithlola.com, where you can also find links to their books, ebooks, and audio book.
