She stood naked next to the bed looking at herself in the mirror. I sat in bed, my laptop above the covers, distracted from my writing by her. She squeezed her tits and boosted them up, looking at the cleavage. She turned around, looked at her ass, standing on tippy-toes. She slid her silk panties over her silky smooth pussy. She turned to see the way the thong was concealed and revealed in the back. On went her bra and then her dress. She ran her hands down from her armpits to her legs and then said, “Shit! I’m so fat!”
“Darling,” I said in amazement, “you’re perfect!”
“I’m fat. I’m disgusting.”
“Look what you do to me,” I said, removing the computer and the blankets and showing her how my cock was standing at attention for her.
“Phhht,” she dismissed my silent compliment.
“Lo, come on.”
“I hate it!”
Her body dysmorphia was setting in and, though I knew it was futile, I tried to talk sense to her. “Take it from me — an old man — one day when you’re my age, you’ll look back at your twenty-something self and think, ‘Holy shit! I was amazing looking!’ Believe me, I speak from experience.”
“Oh, so you’re saying it all goes downhill from here? That as bad looking as I am now, I’m just going to get worse? — Saggy, wrinkly, more fat?!”
“Lo, I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful than you,” I said and I meant it. Sure there are millions of beautiful women in the world — models, actresses, porn stars — but none of them do it for me like Lo. It’s chemical. Biological. Astrological. Illogical. Whatever it is, it is undeniable.
“Fuck me, Daddy!” she said, jumping on the bed. “You know how hearing you say that makes me horny.”
“Lo, everything makes you horny,” I replied. Even before I was done saying those words, she was at work on my manhood with her mouth.
“Fuck me,” she repeated when she came up for air.
“Not now, Lo, I’m in the middle of. . .”
“Forget it,” she said, flipping over on the bed, leaning off the side and pulling out her glass dildo from in her toy box stowed under the bed. “I’ll do it myself. But you’re not helping my body image issues by denying me, you know.”
Exasperated with her inability to see the obvious, I simply said, “Oh, youth is wasted on the young!”
“This youth,” she said, pointing her thumb between her breasts and inserting the dildo between her legs, “is wasted on the old. Find me a virile young man who will fill me and fuck me till I can’t take it anymore.”
“I’d love to,” I replied, “but it would take an army of men to get you to that point.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? — Get me the army, the navy, the marines, the air force, the national guard! Call in the reserves!!!”
She came within mere moments.
“What were you thinking about?” I asked after I saw her eyes open.
“Men in uniform,” she said in a sultry voice. “They serve us. I’d like to serve them.”
[This story is from the popular erotica blog: mysexlifewithlola.com]