Continued from ICI – Home Insemination with a Known Donor

 

“What do you think you’re going to do with this Ted?” I asked Lo as we drove home from Cam and Gina’s.

“I like to imagine what he’s going to do with me,” she responded, looking out the window into the middle distance as the storefronts and pedestrians streamed by on the illuminated street.

“What does that mean?  You heard them, he’s involved with a guy.”

“Meh,” she sounded, dismissively.

“Meh?  What if you get in the room with him and he can’t get it up?”

“He won’t agree to it if he thought that would happen.”

“What if he doesn’t agree to it?”

“You miss every pitch you don’t swing at.”

“Clever, but in this instance, he’s holding the bat.”

“I sure hope he is!”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I’ve been called worse. . . and I like it.”

“This is Cam and Gina’s attempt at getting pregnant, not your opportunity to turn a trick.”

“When a door closes, a window opens.”

“Will you stop with the platitudes.  They’re not even appropriate.”

“Are you jealous, Daddy?” she asked, suddenly realizing that she might be turning me on with her antics.

“No, I’m confused.”

“There’s nothing to be confused about, Daddy.  It’s all very straightforward.”

“Explain.”

“I love to see men jacking off.  You know that.  You don’t do it for me nearly enough.”

“I hardly have the opportunity; you’re on me before I can even stroke it.”

“Nevertheless.  Here is a perfect chance to see a man do it, live, in person.  Not just photos.”

“But it’s a complicated situation.”

We arrived home.  When we were in the bedroom, we continued the conversation.

“I am troubled by your enthusiasm for this ‘helping hand’ business.”

“It’s not a business. . . yet, but who knows.  Maybe I could become a fertility assistant – like a midwife, but instead of aiding in the birth of a baby, I aid in the ejaculatory process.”

“Lo, be serious for a moment.”

“I was,” she said, deadpan.

“Sometimes I think you believe yourself to be God’s gift to men.”

“And on the eighth day, God said, ‘Let there be Lola.’  Eve can be a helpmate.  I’ll be the playmate.”

“After a day of rest, God had a wet dream and Lo and behold!”

“Lo and behold.  I like that.  I’m Lo, you’re Behold.”

I took out my cock and grabbed it for her.

“To have and to hold, ʼtil death do you part,” she said.

“So, if I were Ted, what would you do?”

“The possibilities are endless.  Should I give him my ass, Daddy?”

“You can’t, remember?  The specimen has to be immaculate.”

“I’m insulted!!!  Are you saying my ass isn’t immaculate?”

“No, I was just saying. . .”

“Immaculate conception, right.  I’m just teasing you.  Should I lick him?”

“Off limits.”

“Jerk him off?”

“No lubricants allowed.”

“I could use my feet.”

“That’s ok.”
She broke into song:

 

Gonna use my arms,

Gonna use my legs,

Gonna use my style,

Gonna use my sidestep,

Gonna use my fingers,

Gonna use my, my, my imagination.

 

With each lyric, she pantomimed the part.  She used her arms to boost up her breasts; she got on her back to spread her legs; she licked her lips slowly, seductively, she put her fingers down her panties, and then, she squirted just as I came.

“I see I got your attention.”

“Yes, you did.  Now, if you can just get Ted to do that.”

“Oh, I will, don’t you worry.”