Lola Takes Flight

I recoiled, caught off-guard by his answer.

"The story you had me tell," he said softly. "After all that, you still think I don't know what turns you on?"

"What?" I muttered.

"A story like that tells me everything I need to know," he smiled.

"Was it even true?" I asked, faltering.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "And that's the point."

"Whatever," I said. "You don't know me."

He chuckled.

"You still don't get it," he sighed, shaking his head. "The story isn't about her. It's about you."

"I'm leaving," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah?" he said, a challenge in his voice. "You leaving like that? Without your dress?"

"I don't need it," I shrugged.

"Oh yeah? Where you gonna go?"

"Maybe," I said, putting my finger to my lips. "Maybe I'll go to Tim's room."

"Really?" he said, raising his arm towards the door. "Then go."

"You know, I almost let him fuck me back in high school," I said. "Maybe I should give him another chance."

"Then go," he said again, unmoved. "If that's what you want."

"Why suck an old man's dick when you can fuck his son?" I taunted.

"You know, of all Marcy's friends, I never imagined you'd be the one I fucked."

"Please. I was drunk and I gave you a blowjob. That's it."

He stepped closer to me. His cock was still rock hard.

"You always seemed like such a good girl," he said. "Then, this week, I could tell there was something different about you. But tonight, I figured out what it was."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's your name," he said, now just a body's length away. "You see, the Lola Andrews I knew was a good girl. But Lola Kim is a slut."

"Excuse me?" I balked.

"With a body like that, you always had it in you," he whispered, looking up and down in appreciation. "But Lola Andrews had something that Lola Kim doesn't."

"And what's that?"

"A father," he snarled.

My mouth fell open, speechless.

"So go ahead and fuck my son, if that's what you want," he sneered. "But I don't think you want a son. I think you want a daddy."

I put my hand over my open mouth.

"That's my read," he whispered, getting down on his knees. "How close did I get?"

"What--what are you doing?" I asked as this huge, older man crawled towards me. I backed against the door as he got near me.

"I don't mind that you've been seasoned by other men," he said, taking hold of my hot-tub-soaked thong. "Because I'm the one who gets to eat you."

"I--umm--Mr. Ric--"

"Call me Hank," he said, pulling my thong down. "Or Daddy."

"Oh shit--"

Gently pushing my legs apart with his hand, he leaned his head between my legs and started to lick my pussy, pinning me to the door.

"Ohhhh--ohhhh goddddd--" I moaned.

I looked down at him, his hair crowned by thick, salt-and-pepper hair, heavy on the salt.

"We--we can't--" I moaned, trying to control my breathing. "We can't fuck--"

I was already so turned on, and I hadn't been able to cum in the hot tub.

"Did--did you hear me?" I said, his tongue moving in circles around my clit. "I said we can't fuck--"

My cunt was on fire now, edging towards the cliff.

"Ohhhhh shit--ohhhh shit oh shit oh shit," I moaned, my pitch climbing higher and higher. "Daddy, this is so wrong--"

Then, suddenly, he pulled his head from between my legs.

"Hank, what--"

Standing up, he wrapped his arm around my waist and threw me over his shoulder.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I yelled. "Put me down!"

He turned around and tossed me onto the bed.

"What--what are you doing?"

"I wanna see your tits," he said, climbing onto the bed.

"We can't," I whined, crawling to the far side of the bed. "We can't do this to Marcy."

"This has nothing to do with her," he spat.

"What if she finds out?"

"She won't," he said flatly.

"What if she does?" I replied. "Your ex-wife caught you before, didn't she?"

"Are you gonna tell Marcy about this?" he asked.

"What? Eww, no," I said. "That's not the point."

"Then she won't find out," he said, lying down on his side. "Now, show Daddy those tits."

I sat there for a moment, facing him from my side of the bed. I had already sucked his dick. Already let him lick me. And I still hadn't gotten to cum.

"I'm not gonna let you fuck me," I said cautiously.

"Okay, honey," he said, starting to stroke himself.

"And Marcy," I said, slowly reaching behind my back. "She can never, ever find out."

"She won't," he said, smiling hungrily.

"No one can find out," I said, unfastening the clasp. "I mean it."

"Okay," he nodded.

"I'm only doing this," I whispered. "Because I still need to cum."

He licked his lips. Then, slowly, I slid off the soaked cups of my demi-bra, casting it onto the floor beside the bed, letting my huge tits spill free before his ravenous eyes.

"Jesus Christ," he whistled, rubbing his old cock. "You really do have a world class body."

"Don't act so surprised," I rolled my eyes, pulling my nipples with my fingers, making them harden. "You've had your eye on my body since I was in high school."

"Careful," he said, rolling onto his back, his hand pumping his cock in long, easy strokes.

"Not as careful as you should have been," I said, crawling towards him on all fours. "I remember that pool party Marcy had up here, the summer before I left. I was wearing a red bikini, and you wouldn't stop looking at me."

His eyes narrowed at me.

"Did you know I was still a virgin back then?" I whispered, climbing onto his broad, hairy chest. "Lola Andrews was still a virgin at that party."

I scooched forward, straddling his shoulders, my huge tits dangling over his face.

"It made me so uncomfortable, the way you were looking at me that day," I mewled, playing with my nipples. "But now, I'm used to it, because all men look at me like that."

Slowly, I inched my knees forward, lowering my pussy onto his face.

"Ohhhhhhhh godddddd," I moaned as his tongue began to move up and down my snatch. "Every guy... they--they all want to fuck me..."

He was licking me furiously now, cupping my ass with one hand, pushing his face into my pussy.

"They all--they all try... try to fuck me," I moaned between breaths. "I can't say no to--to all of them, Daddy... you can't--can't expect me to... resist them all..."

My hips were bucking into his face, moving me closer and closer to the edge.

"Even--even filthy, dirty old men," I cried. "Even old men try to fuck me!"

I cupped my tits in my hands, playing with them as they bounced wildly.

"Even you--even you, Daddy... even you want to fuck me..."

I was grinding my pussy against his tongue, desperate for release.

"But you can't, Daddy... not--not even just once..."

I was so close.

"No matter how... bad... you... want it..."

Suddenly, he pushed me off his face, tossing me onto my knees next to him.

"Wait--"

He climbed behind me, pinning me on all fours with my hands to the bed.

"I won't fuck you..." I moaned, desperate to convince us both.

"Yes, you will," he said, rubbing his cock against my pussy.

"Daddy, I won't!" I moaned. "You're--you're too... too old... too old to fuck me..."

"You will if you want to cum," he sneered.

"Let--let go of my hands," I pleaded. "This--this isn't right!"

"I know you need to cum," he said confidently, the tip of his cock becoming slick against my wet pussy.

"Let go of my hands," I begged, trying to wiggle my hips away from him. "Please just let me cum..."

"No," he said. "But I can make you cum..."

"I--we--we can't!" I protested, becoming frantically overstimulated with each passing moment. "This... this is so bad..."

"Do you wanna know how the story of that Asian stewardess ends?"

He'd stopped moving behind me. I could feel the tip of his cock nestled, unmoving, against the soaked lips of my pussy.

"Uhhh--you're... uhhh--you're so fucking old--"

"Do--you--want--to--know?" he said, keeping his cock moored at my gate, my body trembling as he held me in place.

I bit my lip, stifling a moan but nodding my head all the same, trying in vain to stop myself from squirming against the rock hard, 50-year-old cock positioned between my legs.

"Do you want to know how I finally fucked her?"

I could feel the tip of his old cock throbbing against my wet, young pussy like a pulse, the blood pumping through his veins with primal urgency. There was so much tension stored in my body, so much pent up energy and frustration and need, that each time I felt his cock twitch against my cunt, the stimulation was almost more than I could handle. I felt like a bow with the string pulled completely taught, an arrow just aching to fly.

"I fucked her on all fours..."

"Oh god--"

"...on this bed...without a condom..."

"Oh no--"

"...after she sucked my dick..."

"Ohhh--ohh--"

"... in that hot tub."

"Fuck--oh fuck--"

I was trembling so badly, my whole body shaking, desperate for release.

"I fucked her," he cried. "Didn't I?! DIDN'T I?!"

"YESSSSSSSS," I moaned, driving my pussy back onto his cock. "YES YES YES--"

"I FUCKED HER, DIDN'T I?!"

"YESSSSSSSS DADDY YES"

"I FUCKED HER YOUNG, SWEET LITTLE ASIAN CUNT"

"YES YES YES--"

He was pounding me so hard now, railing into me, bouncing my mercilessly against the bed as it creaked and bucked wildly, but I was so wet it didn't matter. My body absorbed the full force of his weight as he slammed his hips into me again and again.

"SHE GAVE IT UP, DIDN'T SHE?!"

"Ohhh--ohhhh Jesus--"

I was so close to cumming, finally cumming.

"SHE GAVE IT UP FOR MY OLD, WHITE, DADDY DICK!" he growled. "DIDN'T YOU?!"

"HHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNGGG!!!!"

I was cumming--cumming--cumming for him--holy shit--

"SHE LET A DIRTY, OLD MAN DUMP CUM IN HER TIGHT SLUT PUSSY!" he cried. "DIDN'T YOU?!"

"OHGODOHGODOHGOD--"


"DIDN'T YOU?!"

"YES DADDY!" I moaned, unable to hold it back. "YES YES YES--"

"OH--GOD--YES--!!!" he cried, slamming his hips into me as he erupted.

"DADDY OHGODOHGOD OH GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD"

Both our bodies were shaking, vibrating, locked together as his enormous balls contracted, transferring his old, Marcy-making seed into my young, half-Asian pussy. I could feel him emptying inside me, rope after rope, the walls of my 22-year-old cunt greedily squeezing his cock, milking it for more as an endless stream poured out of him.

"God, your fucking pussy is just..." he growled, still pumping more of his batter into my belly. "I haven't cum like that in 20 years."

"I--I can't believe we did this," I said, finally crawling off of him as he released my hands. "We're... we're bad people. We're monsters..."

"No," he said, waving this off as he rolled over onto his back. "Just human."

"No, this... you're Marcy's dad, and I... I let you fuck me," I murmured, stunned by the truth of these words.

"You needed it," he said flatly. "We both did."

"She can never find out, okay?" I said.

"Oh, I know," he laughed, reaching over to the nightstand and opening a drawer.

"I'm serious!" I cried, smacking his arm as he fished around inside the drawer. "Pay attention! Promise me she'll never find out."

"Relax," he said, raising his hand to his mouth as he turned back to me. "This is a one-night thing, okay? She won't find out."

"One-time thing," I corrected him quickly.

"Oh, I don't think so," he said, sticking out his tongue to reveal a tiny blue pill. "That first time was all me, and that insane body of yours. But a man my age needs a little help with Round II."

"What?!" I murmured. "No, no way--"

"Come on," he swallowed, reaching up to brush my hair out of my face. "You already let me cum inside you. Nothing we do now is going to change that. So how much worse is it if we fuck a couple more times tonight?"

"Wha--that's not the point!"

"I need to suck those big tits," he said, pulling me back on top of him. "And I'm gonna cum all over that gorgeous face of yours..."

"I'm not letting you cum on my face," I said as he started to play with my nipples again. "That's too degrading..."

"Are you sure about that?" he asked wryly, pulling my tits towards his face.

"No way in hell," I shook my head.

"What if I told you a story?" he whispered, wrapping his lips around my nipple and beginning to suck.

...

When I opened my eyes the next morning, the first thing that hit me was the pounding in my head, like a jackhammer trying to drill through my skull from the inside. I sat up, bleary-eyed, then tumbled out of bed towards the bathroom.

A wave of dizziness hit me, and I hunched over the toilet, waiting to see if I was going to puke. But after about 30 seconds, the nausea subsided, so I stood up and grabbed a cup, filling it with water from the sink. Taking a long sip, I started to take stock of where I was and what I remembered from the night before.

I was in my own room, though I couldn't remember how I got there. My hair was a mess, the glossy black waves tumbling in all directions, with the dyed pink streak falling in front of my face. I'd obviously been too drunk to remove my makeup, and now the lipstick, mascara, and eyeshadow that I had so carefully applied were now smudged across my face. I still had on the pearl earrings that Marcy had given me.

I was wearing a white, terry-cloth bathrobe, but I wasn't sure where I'd gotten it from or whose it was. Underneath, however, I was completely naked, my body adorned only by the matching gold chains around my neck and hips.

I hung the bathrobe on the back of the door and climbed into the shower, closing my eyes as the warm water coursed over my body, trying to piece together what had happened.

My memory was pretty well intact up to Marcy's departure, but after that, things were sort of hazy. I remembered arguing with some guy near the bar, but I couldn't remember exactly what we'd been arguing about. And I remembered sitting on the stairs with Tim, talking about something, but I couldn't remember what. And I remembered walking around with an entire bottle of champagne, which would explain why I couldn't remember much else.

Did I go swimming? I thought to myself. Or did I go in the hot tub again? But maybe I was just confusing last night for the night before. Whatever it was, my entire body was sore, and it felt good to let the warm water sooth my aching muscles.

As I stepped out of the shower, I heard a knock at the door.

"Just a minute!" I called, wrapping a towel around my hair. I grabbed the bathrobe and cinched it quickly around my naked body. "Who is it?"

"It's Tim. Just wanted to check up to see how you're feeling."

I walked over to the door, cracking it just slightly

"Hi Tim," I said, keeping my body hidden behind the door so that he wouldn't see how little I was wearing.

"How are you feeling?" he said, cracking a little smile.

"Hazy," I said sheepishly.

"After an entire bottle of champagne, I'm not surprised."

"Yeah," I shook my head. "I guess I got a little carried away, huh?"

"I'll say," he nodded, running his fingers through his hair. "You were like a different person."

"Oh god," I whispered, putting my palm over my face. "What did I do?"

"We had an... interesting conversation," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, Tim," I said bashfully. "I honestly... I don't remember what I said, but I'm sure I didn't mean it."

"It's fine," he said, waving me off. "I'm just glad you're back to normal this morning."

"You're too sweet," I smiled. "But I'm still kind of mess. I'm not even dressed yet."

"Anyway, I just wanted to see if you needed a ride back to SF today," he said. "I know you were planning to drive back with Chase, but I figured you might need a lift since he couldn't make it."

"That would be amazing, actually," I nodded. "Just let me get myself together and I'll meet you downstairs?"

"Take your time," he said. "There's coffee, too, when you're ready."

"Gimme 10 minutes," I said. "I'll be quick, I promise."

"See you in half an hour," he replied.

I rolled my eyes, shutting the door behind me and walking back into the bathroom. Then, as I reached for my toothbrush, I saw something in the mirror that I hadn't noticed before.

High on the breast of my bathrobe--the one I'd been wearing when I woke up, cinched tightly around my naked, 22-year-old, half-Asian body--were three cursive letters, embroidered in gray against the white terry-cloth: HLR.

I gasped, my toothbrush tumbling into the sink as both my hands met in front of my gaping mouth. Suddenly, a flurry of new images flooded into my brain, one after another after another.

Me, in the hot tub, touching myself...

Him, climbing in next to me...

Me, wrapping my fingers around his cock...

Him, towering over me...

Me, parting my lips...

Him, lifting me up...

Me, on his bed...

Him, kneeling behind me...

Me, calling him Daddy.

"Oh my god," I whispered into my hands, my heart pounding in my chest. "Oh my god, oh my god..."

I closed my eyes, trying to block everything out, but the images kept coming.

...

On the ride back to SF, I pretended to sleep, telling Tim that I was too hungover to be any good for conversation. In reality, I had no idea what to say to him, and saying nothing seemed like the safest course of action.

When we arrived at SFO, he pulled up, climbing out of the car to get my bag from the trunk.

"I can do that," I said weakly, trying to protest his chivalry.

"You're too hungover to do anything," he laughed, rolling my bag to the curb.

"Thanks," I whispered. "I don't deserve you."

"Stop saying that stuff," he frowned.

"It's true," I mumbled, unable to look at him. "You have no idea."

"Look," he said, lifting my chin to look me in the eye. "You might not remember what we talked about last night, but I do. I know you're with Chase right now, so I'm going to respect that. But if he can't show up for you when it matters, then maybe he's the one who doesn't deserve you."

"Don't say that," I whispered. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't know what happened to you since high school," Tim said. "But one of these days, you're going to realize that you deserve better. And when you do, give me a call, okay?"

"Okay," I said softly. "I have to go."

"Okay," he smiled, rubbing my cheek. "Be good, Lola Kim."

"I'll try," I whispered. "Bye, Tim."

He climbed back into his car. I turned around and walked inside the airport.

...

Sitting at the gate, I pulled my phone out. I thumbed through it idly, opening my chat with Chase. No new messages.

I sighed. "We need to talk," I wrote. Then, I tapped send.

It was a little after 6AM in Hong Kong. He would probably be sleeping, or maybe getting ready for work. I started to put my phone away when I felt it buzz. I looked down at the screen. It was a text from Chase.

"What do you want to talk about?"

I unlocked my phone to respond, but then I saw the three little dots appear on my screen. He was still typing. Then, another message appeared.

"Wanna talk about what a fucking slut you are?"

I felt a tightness seize my chest.

"whats your problem," I wrote back. But now he was silent.

Then, I felt a pang of dread, a cold chill spreading outward from my stomach.

Quickly, I flipped open Snapchat. I hadn't used the app much in college, but over the summer, I'd begun using it more often to send Chase naughty pictures while he was on the road.

"Oh my god," I gasped.

The night before, I'd sent Chase three snaps that I'd completely forgotten about. My blood ran completely cold.

First, at 11:30PM, I'd sent him a selfie. I was sitting alone in the hot tub, looking off-camera, my boobs practically spilling out of my tiny demi-bra. In the caption, I'd written:

"hi youre not my BF"

The second message had been sent at 1:14AM. This one was just text without an image: