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“We can watch anything you want,” I said as Lo flipped through the Netflix selections.

“How about this?” she asked, as the cursor illuminated a film.

“I didn’t hear good things about that,” I said.

Lo continued scrolling through the titles. “Oh, this!” she said, pausing in her search.

“Another lesbian coming-of-age film?” I asked, tired of the genre.

She went through a few more.

“Oh, wait,” I said, “that! That looks good.”

“No!” replied Lo, curtly. “We’re not watching another one of those comedies.”

This processes, if you can call it that, went on for another few minutes until Lo finally said, exasperated, “You say we can watch anything I want, but then you nix everything I want.”

“I’m sorry,” I said with contrition, “What do you want?”

“This,” she said, showing me some dark, British drama.

“Fine,” I said.

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes, really.”

We began watching it and within minutes my eyelids became heavy, they began to close and, next thing I know, Lo’s getting up from the couch and stomping away.

“What?” I called out to her.

She kept walking.

“Lo,” I said, following behind her.

She went into the bedroom and shut the door.

“What’s the matter?” I said as I entered the room.

“You’re a jerk,” she said from under the blankets.

“What’s wrong?”

“I had a long day. I just want to be home with you, curled up on the couch enjoying a movie. Every time I pick a movie, you fall asleep. I’ve had it!”

I crawled into bed next to her. Of course she was naked. I rubbed the curve of her bare ass. She pushed my hand away.

“Sweetheart,” I began, “you’ve told me in the past that every time you behave this way, what you’re really saying is that you want to be held, caressed, and told that I love you.”

“Not this time,” she muttered.

“Fine,” I said, not willing to beg.

“Fine,” she said, not willing to be mollified.

I rolled over, hugged my pillow, and went to sleep. I did this on purpose, knowing full well that there is little in life that Lo detests more than going to sleep in a fight. Unfortunately, I’m not good at play acting sleep. I always fall into a real sleep. That night was not any different than the others.

I was disturbed from my dreams once or twice by a restless Lo, doing what Lo does when we’re in a fight.

The next morning, I awoke at five-thirty, as is my practice. When I got to the kitchen to make my coffee there was a little post-it note on the machine. “Turn me on,” it read. I flipped open the lid and saw it was full of water and fresh coffee grinds. I turned it on and it started brewing. I went back to the bedroom and crawled under the warm covers next to Lo. I caressed her naked ass again.

Her eyes opened and she looked at me. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“You left a note on the coffee maker. It said ‘Turn me on.’ I’m just trying to follow your instructions.”

A small smile came to her lips. She rolled on her back, spread her legs and said, “You always turn me on. That’s the problem.”

I got between her wet and waiting thighs and said, “I’m sorry for last night.”

“Shut up and fuck me,” she said.

I followed instructions and she and I both came at the same time.

After I caught my breath, I said, “Would you like some coffee?”

“Would love some,” she said.

I brought two mugs full of steaming black coffee to the bed and sat next to her.

“You know, you woke me up last night,” I said.

“So why didn’t you fuck me then?”

“You didn’t get me up that much.”

“How about now?”

“How about it?”

“Are you up?”

“Let me finish my coffee and I may be.”

She pulled out her phone, turned it on. It was paused in the middle of a pornographic movie. She hit play. She turned on her tum and began fingering herself to the images.

I put my coffee down and got behind her. I was roused. I slid in. I penetrated her with her fingers still cupped up in her puss.

“You want it like that, don’t you?” I asked, referring to the double penetration presented on the hand-held screen.

“You know it,” she said.

She came again.

“Let’s make that happen,” I said as I slid out and sat up next to her again.

“I can’t wait,” she said, resting her head on my chest as I took another sip of coffee.

[From the blog:]

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

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