An Episode of Lola Downton

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Waking from a deep nap, I find myself yelling at Lo, “Sure, answer your fucking phone — every day at 5:45 — go ahead!” It wasn’t 5:45 and she wasn’t on the phone. When I came to my senses, I apologized to her and said that it was dream talk.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “You fuckered me out today and now I’m delirious.”

She laughed and simply said, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet. Not by a long shot!”

“Well, whatever you have planned for me is going to have to wait. I’m going to shovel the drive now.” While we slept the snow had piled up. There were at least two or three inches of heavy white stuff outside now.

“I’ll help!” Lo called, insisting that she contribute.

“No, it’s OK. You rest.”

“I am rested. I want to. Please.”

I consented and we both went out with our shovels.

While shoveling, a red cardinal came and perched on a branch amid all the brilliant white. “Look at that!” I said to Lo.

She spent some time looking for the object of my attention. When she saw it, she was amazed by the contrast between red and white. She said it was gorgeous, adding, “I’m surprised you saw that.”

“As I’ve told you many times, I’m a connoisseur of beauty — an aesthete — in all its forms.”

“Yes, but that bird is a male.”

I threw a snowball at her and pretty soon our shoveling devolved into an all-out snowball fight.

When we came in, we took a hot and steamy shower together and Lo got down on her knees to take me in her mouth. She loves the water play and when we got out, I returned the favor — bending her over the side of the bed and getting on my knees to give her sweet ass a few delicate kisses followed by passionate tonging till she came and came hard.

She climbed on the bed and I rolled her over, intending to do the same for her puss as I just did for her behind, but she covered herself up and said, “No, Daddy. I’m way too sensitive now!”

For her sake, I relented. She and I made a lovely dinner and ate by candle light (since there was no chance of our going out to eat on this snowy Saturday night) and then we cuddled up to watch an episode of Downton Abbey. Halfway through, the character of Tom Branson took off his shirt. Lo was already madly in love with this character, but when she saw his physique, she clicked the power button on the TV and grabbed me and said, “Do me now, Daddy!”

“You’re just horny for him, not for me.”

“So what?” she asked, “Does it make a difference? I’m horny and you’re handy, so it works out perfectly — win-win.”

“What? Really? You’re just going to use me — use my cock — like a sex toy to get your rocks off?”

“When you put it that way. . .” she said with a pause, “you just get me more randy.” And she pulled me, almost running to the bedroom. She jumped on the bed and spread her legs, patting her puss down.

“Not as sensitive anymore?” I asked.

“No. Stop talking and start fucking.”

“I don’t know how I feel about this — being a surrogate for Tom Branson.”

“You can ponder the ethics of it later, but fuck me now.”

I was teasing her, of course, and I couldn’t keep the game going because she looked too good. As much as Tom had turned her on, she was turning me on with her own physique.

“Take out your phone,” I said.

“What?” she asked, perplexed.

“Take out your phone. If you’re just going to use my body and dream about Tom, I want you to do it more honestly. Google him and bring up whatever pics of him you like. Look at them while I fuck you from behind.”

She happily complied and within mere seconds she was cumming to the eye candy in front of her and the rock-hard-candy inserted behind her.

When she was done she asked, “Can we watch the rest of the episode?”

“Wow,” I said, “you really want it all, don’t you?”

“Daddy, I only want you because you are the only one who gives me all I want.”

“You’re lucky you’re such a sweet-talker and that I am wrapped around your little finger.”

“I know, Daddy. And you’re lucky I’m such a horny slut.”

“I’m lucky that you’re my horny slut and I know it.”

[From the blog:]

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Just your average nymphomaniac next door. I love fan mail:

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