Carrying a mug of coffee, I walk in on her just as she is squirting, pulling the Hitachi away from her clit. Her hands scrunch up the sheets under her and her legs are spread. Her head lifts and her breasts heave as she breathes quick breaths, screaming, “Oh Fuck! Oh FUCK! OH Fuuuuck!!!” She looks over at me and says, “Don’t just stand there, get me a towel!” I do so.
“I just came to tell you breakfast is ready.”
“Thanks for the coffee, Daddio!”
“When you’re ready, I’ll see you at the breakfast table.”
“But you didn’t kiss me good morning.”
“Yes I did.”
“No you didn’t.”
“I did – all night long.”
“Yeah. I had to punch you to get you to stop and let me sleep.”
“Well, those were your good morning kisses.”
“I want one now.”
I lean over to kiss her good morning. She lets me kiss her on the lips before pushing my head down between her legs. “I meant there,” she says.
“Lo, I’m not going to eat you out before I eat breakfast. It’s on the table getting cold!”
“Just one kiss, Daddio. Please.”
I indulge her. One kiss turns to a full-on tongue-fuck-fest of every area between her legs from the small of her back to her bellybutton. Luckily she cums quickly. I pull back and go into the bathroom to splash water on my face. Her juices have a way of soaking my beard and mustache. I look up, into the vanity mirror over the sink and see her preparing to pound herself with a dildo.
“OK, that does it!” I call to her. “I’m just going to throw out the breakfast I made.”
“No, Daddio, I’ll be there in. . .” Her words trail off as she becomes preoccupied with the instrumental manipulation of her puss.
I walk out of the bedroom, my hard-on leading the way. I sit down at the breakfast table alone and eat the luke-warm eggs and toast while I hear her sing-song voice of oohs and ahs crescendo from the bedroom.
When we’re both done, I stand up, put my plate and glass in the sink and I bring her her breakfast on a tray.
“Oh, breakfast in bed!” she squeals, leaning over to put her toys away safely stashed under the bed.
“If Mohammed won’t come to the mountain, then the mountain will come to Mohammed.”
“Daddy, I’ll cum to anything.”
“Don’t I know it! What did you cum to today?”
“I’m sorry Daddy,” she says, looking guilty.
“Why? Because you let your eggs and toast get cold?”
She shakes her head, no.
“What is it then? That you used my mouth, but kept all the orgasms to yourself?”
Again she shakes her head in the negative. Keeping orgasms to herself gives her no guilt.
“Then what?”
She passes her phone to me. I look at it. It’s a photo of a giant black cock.
“A friend of yours?”
“Not yet, but I hope someday.”
“Who is it?”
“Just a fan.”
“A fan of your pics, not my writing I assume.”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask him about it.”
“What’s he have to say for himself?”
“I don’t know. He just sent me this pic and. . .”
“And it’s got you all preoccupied.”
She shook her head yes with a guilty look on her face. “I want it, Daddy!” she said like a girl asking for a big lollipop at the circus.
I turn to leave the bedroom.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“To do the dishes.”
“I’ll do it!”
“No, I’ll do it. I don’t like the way you do it. Besides, you have to eat your cold breakfast.”
“Why do you wish to maintain control all the time?”
“It’s not a matter of retaining control. It’s a matter of maintaining standards.”
“You have so many standards. Double standards.”
“I only have one standard. . . the best.”
“That’s my line,” she says, followed by, “but, if you’re speaking about me, then go on.”
I finally walk out the bedroom into the kitchen. As I’m in the midst of putting dishes into the dishwasher, Lo saunters up to the entrance of the kitchen naked as the day she was born, she turns to me and says, “Are you jealous?” She’s always trying to get me jealous, to no avail.
“Lo, you’re standing right where the neighbors can see you through the window, you know.”
“Does that make you jealous?”
“No. But it may make the neighbor’s wife jealous!”
“Phhh,” she sounds dismissively, bending over to give the neighbor a more explicit view. As she’s bent over, she says, “I’m just a hotwife with an exhibitionist’s streak and a loving man who can use his fingers to type out stories that make people come back for more.”
“I don’t think your big friend was coming back for my writing.”
“Well, I can’t help it if behind every good nympho is a line of men waiting to fuck her and behind every bad nympho is a longer line.”
“Which one are you?”
“Fuck me, Daddy, and you’ll see.”
“No, Lo, I already know. I was just testing to see if you would admit to it.”
“The line behind me is very long, very hard,” she says as she reaches over and grabs my cock.
“That doesn’t make sense. How is the line hard?”
“Fuck me and I’ll show you.”
She bends over, this time with her rear towards me rather than toward the window.
“Are you still doing the same old thing?” I ask.
“You mean you?” she asks, looking at me from between her legs.
“Very funny. This ‘old thing’ is going to work.”
“Work on me!”
“Didn’t I make you cum this morning? – and you squirted all over me and the bed!”
“That was a drop in the bucket.”
She wiggles her ass, like she’s playing charades. So I guess, “You’re horny.”
She sees the bulge in my khakis. “And you want me.”
“Yes, Lo. I always want you. But sometimes I have to actually go to work.” I walk over to her and give her wiggling bum a good smack.
“Mmmmm,” she moans, “again!”
I repeat.
“I love spankings,” she says, “they’re like applause, but on my ass! Let me hear how much you like my ass.”
I ‘applaud’ her five or six times. But I do no more than applaud. I then walk out of the kitchen.
“But Daddy,” I hear her call down the hallway, “what about my encore!”
I leave the house and go to work, but on my way home that afternoon, I stop and run a special errand for Lo. For a while now I’ve wanted to try a cock sleeve. I run into my local adult toy shop and peruse the possibilities. After a careful review, I decide on one that is a total of 11 inches, dark brown in complexion, very realistic, and best of all, has a ring to wrap around my balls to anchor the sleeve in place.
Back at home I find that Lo has invited a few people over for a little get-together. Unaware that we were expecting company, I have to find a way of sneaking the rather large box in the house inconspicuously. I decide to pop my head in, say hello to the guests, and declare that we need some more beer. I run out to the local store and pick up a six-pack. I throw the toy in the plain brown bag and rush in, crossing my fingers that no one stops me on the way.
They are all in the living room and I call out, “I’m back! I’ll just pop these in the fridge and be right there.” I head to the bedroom first, hide my stash under the bed, and then put the beer in the fridge, removing one for myself first.
Walking in on our little circle of friends, I take a look at Lo and see that she has put on a stunning little number. Her heels, her short-shorts, and her black tank-top with her one-size-too-small push-up bra under it, giving her quite the shelf popping out of the top. What’s the reason for this, I wonder.
I give her a kiss hello and tell her I’m famished, looking at her quizzically.
Lola complains that the meal she prepared didn’t come out the way that she was hoping.
I say, “You know, I don’t think love is blind so much as love is deaf.”
“What does that mean?” she asks.
“You could go on complaining like that all night, but because you look so good, I don’t hear a thing.”
I get a little laugh from everyone there and then the ‘guests of honor’ arrive. Two young men from across the street who had moved in recently were invited by Lo. Brothers. Built. Did I mention young?
“HH, you remember Roy and Gary,” she says, that look of desire in her eye, her tongue running over her lips as she introduces us. “I just thought,” she says innocently, “since we were having people over, I’d invite them as well.”
“Very neighborly of you,” I say.
The rest of the night goes on with Lo dancing that fine line between being a charming hostess and a wicked vixen.
Finally, past eleven, all our guests leave, including the brothers from across the street.
Lo goes into the bedroom and when I emerge out of the bathroom, cock sleeve firmly in place, Lo nearly jumps in fear and fawning over the giant extension between my legs.
“What the hell is that?!” she cries out.
“Just something special I bought for you today.”
“What? Why? Today?”
“Yes. Because you were so enamored of your fan who sent you that pic that was longer than your forearm.”
“But Daddio, you know I love you,” she says, reaching out to grab the long appendage and feel its heft and girth.
“Yes, but you long for bigger, longer, thicker, and bigger.”
“You mentioned bigger twice.”
“I like how indignant you are.”
“Indignity is my forte.”
“No, lack of dignity is your forte.”
“Daddy, I have loads of dignity. I just prefer to be degraded in the bedroom.”
“Well, do what you do best and get on the bed, spread your legs, make yourself good and wet, and let me pound you with this monster cock.”
“I thought you’d never ask. Oh, and by the way, I’m already super wet. I have been all night.”
“The brothers?”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
I do as she wishes and I have to admit that it was a little difficult to fit the bulbous bad-boy in, but once in, Lo takes all of it with grace and gratitude.
“Can I use my Hitachi?” she asks.
“Of course,” I say, since with this sleeve it’s easy for me to lean back and give her enough room to fit her Hitachi over her clit. With the sleeve on, there is significantly less sensation and I welcome the vibrations of the Magic Wand.
Within mere moments Lo is saying, “Pull out! PULL OUT! I have to squirt!”
I do as she says and an impatient stream of spray shoots out on me.
“Holy shit!” she says, as if she had never cum like that before. Maybe she hadn’t. Maybe every time it feels like the first. But just as soon as the words are out of her mouth, she rolls over and says, “Take that silly thing off now and fuck me rawdog!”
I obey and begin from behind her and say, “Lo, don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t even feel you. That sleeve spread you so wide.”
“Don’t you take this the wrong way,” she says over her shoulder, “but I can hardly feel you. Now fuck me like you mean it.”
I do as she commands and as I pound her from behind, all the wetness covering her ass splish-splashes with each thrust and it makes a slick slapping sound.
I continue harder and faster, hoping to register something within her, and after much striving I finally succeed. I hit my target and she cums even harder than she did the first time.
But then something I’ve never seen before happens. She literally passes out mid-orgasm. She faints from fucking. She swoons from sex. She is out cold for about three or four minutes. When she comes to, she just asks to hold me.
“What happened Daddy?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “One minute you were cumming, the next you were out cold. How much did you have to drink tonight?”
“One glass of champagne.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. I swear.”
“Have you ever fainted from fucking before?”
“No Daddy. Never.”
“How do you feel?”
“Great.”
“Did you cum in me Daddy?”
“No, Lo. I didn’t cum at all.”
“Are you sure?” she asks feeling between her legs.
“Yes Lo. That’s all from you.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You were wonderful.”
“But I passed out – literally on you.”
“It’s ok. I took it as a compliment.”
“You would. You have such a big ego.”
“If you’re talking about this,” I say, holding the sheath, “then you’re right. It is big. I had a big ego before, and now it’s even bigger.”
“Daddy, a man’s ego is not his cock size.”
“No. I agree. But the bigger his cock size, the bigger his ego.”
“Well, you’d better watch out. You know what they say?”
“No, what’s that?”
“The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
“Oh? Is that how it goes? I thought it was, the harder they cum the harder they pass out.”
