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“Daddy,” she whispered in my ear as I slid deep inside her.

“Yes?” I responded quietly.

“Can I tell you something bad?”

“I love it when you tell me something bad.”

I continued the long, smooth, slow insertions and retractions of my rod: first sinking it far to the back of her wet and waiting hole, and then back to the parted lips, leaving her wanting to be filled again.

“I’ve been watching a lot of porn lately.”

“That’s nothing new, Lo,” I said as I reached down to grab her ass cheeks with both hands and spread her in order to penetrate even deeper. She moaned a little.

“But I’ve found something, something that I really like.”

“What’s that, darling?”

“It’s called ‘the milking table’ and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

This was something new to me. “What is that?” I asked.

“A man comes in for a massage and he gets naked,” she began and the very thought of it made her gush. “He lies down on a table, only this table has a glory-hole cut out of the middle so that his junk hangs down below the table. After massaging him for a while in the traditional way, the woman gets down below the table and. . .” Whoops, she came.

I was still deep inside her when I felt her squirt in spurts.

“I’m dripping, Daddy,” she said.

“No matter,” I replied. “Go on with your story.”

She was all the more excited to tell me. “She gets down under the table and his long, thick cock is there dangling down, just hanging in the air, along with his big, full balls.” She was revving up again. “She opens her mouth and licks the tip of his dick and plays with his balls as he grows harder and harder. Then she. . .” Whoops, she came again.

I, for my part, was merely sliding in, remaining in place, and pulling out again as slowly as possible. I was keeping it under control to hear the full story. I could feel the sheets soaking beneath my knees.

“Tell me the rest,” I insisted.

“She sucks and licks, getting more and more excited, trying to get him to cum. All she can touch is his cock and balls. She can’t see him. He can’t see her. It’s just her mouth and his stuff. She uses her hands, her mouth, even slaps her face with it — whatever it takes to get him to cum.”

I was sliding in and out a little faster now. Her right hand had moved to her clit and she was diddling it with her index finger.

“Finally,” she continued, “he cums in her mouth, on her face, all over her tits and. . .”

Whoops, a third interruption.

This time I let myself go. I pulled out, grabbed myself at the base of my shaft, leaned back and watched as a spurt of semen shot up and arched, landing on her right shoulder. Another flew and landed squarely between her tits. A third just above her bellybutton and then some more drizzled between her thighs.

I collapsed next to her.

“Show me,” I said.

“Show you what?” she asked, out of breath.

“The porn, the video, the milking table.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Lo, really?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve seen you masturbate to glory-hole videos, gang-bangs, bukakke, horny women on the farm, and so much else I can’t even remember and you’re saying. . .”

“It’s all embarrassing!”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m not judging you. I find it sexy!”

She always needs a little convincing.

She reached over and grabbed her phone. The webpage was the last thing in her history and it popped right up. She and I watched a little of it and I whispered to her, “Do you want me to make you one of those?”

“What?”

“A milking table.”

“Would you?” her eyes lit up.

“If you want. Or would you prefer I make a glory-hole wall?”

“Where would we keep it?”

“In the basement. Which would you prefer?”

“One of each,” she said, “please.”

I laughed.

She put down the phone and reached under the bed. She pulled out her Hitachi Magic Wand and her glass dildo — “Glindo” — and unsheathed it from its silk pouch.

“Lo?”

“I’m not done yet.”

“You came three times! The bed is soaked.”

“So? I know when I’m done and I’m not done yet.”

Spreading her legs wide, she turned on the Hitachi and it quietly purred on “Low-Power” as it buzzed on her clit.

She inserted the glass dildo and in it went, right up to the handle she was holding, as smoothly as the staff of an old-fashioned butter churner into its casing.

“Help me out here,” she said, frustration in her voice.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Hold this,” she said, pulling my left hand to the knob-end of the dildo. “Keep it there.”

She let the vibrating ball of the Wand circle over her clit as she lay back with her eyes closed. “A little deeper,” she asked.

I pressed the dildo up and in a little further. She had already taken all of the eight-inch shaft.

“More,” she said.

I pressed it more and now my fingers were also inside her, pushing the dildo up as far as it would go.

She shifted gears on the Hitachi to “Hi-Power” and now her head was lifted up off the pillow and her eyes were shut tight. Her tongue was between her lips like a kid trying to color carefully within the lines. Concentration. Focus.

“Forget it!” she snapped at me, pushing my hand away. I don’t know what I was doing wrong, but she now took over the end of the dildo, deep inside her, with her own left hand. Her arms made a “V” from her shoulders to her pussy and her biceps pressed her tits together. Her breasts had swollen in size, her nipples were erect and hard. Her chest was turning bright red. I could see it was now-or-never-time.

She suddenly pulled out the dildo and pressed down hard with the Hitachi, as now it was her turn to ejaculate. She did so with a scream of pleasure and convulsions of her body as if she were possessed and going through an exorcism.

When her twitching and spasms had receded, she squeezed her legs together and looked at me with embarrassment and apologized, “Sorry, Daddy.”

“It’s ok, sweetheart. After you clean up, we’ll go to the lumber yard and I’ll make you those presents you wanted.”

“Daddy,” she began.

“Yes?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“I was just wondering.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Lo, what was it you were wondering?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“What?”

“Well, do you want to use the glory-hole and milking bed?”

“Yes,” I said emphatically.

“Daddy?”

“What?”

“I was wondering something else.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you think other guys will want to use them too?”

“Let’s go to Home Depot and ask for assistance to build a glory-hole and a milking bed and after explaining to the assistant what you intend to do with them, we’ll find out. Wear your short skirt and no panties.”

“Ok,” she said, “I can’t wait!”

[From the blog: mysexlifewithlola.com]

Written by

Just your average nymphomaniac next door. I love fan mail: downloladown@gmail.com

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