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“You always portray me as going for it, as the slut, the nympho, the horny, insatiable, out-of-control sex fiend. It’s one-dimensional. That’s not who I am. I’m not like that.” She said all this, mind you, as she sat wearing merely a black t-shirt and nothing else, her legs spread on the couch with the windows and blinds wide open looking out onto the dark street — a street of hidden eyes looking back no doubt.

I had just finished reading to her the last installment, “The Cum-On,” and she objected vituperatively to the comparison, if any, between her and Zach’s nymphomaniacal ex-girlfriend.

“That is not true,” I rebutted, “I think I give you a lot of depth and I make a very clear distinction between Zach’s old girlfriend and you. But, you have to admit, that is the way it happened and on the surface, at least, there is some similarity between her and you.”

“How it happened is irrelevant. The point is that I am all about enthusiastic consent, sex-positive relationships, and I never coerce you. Now put down that computer and take me into the bedroom and fuck me!”

I followed her to the bedroom, as she insisted, and she hopped on the bed and began stroking her puss. “You see,” she said, “it’s all in how you go about it. I don’t lose my temper or yell or scream or demand.”

“You don’t?”

She slapped her pussy hard. “Well, not usually.” There was a pause as she leaned her head back and pushed her breasts up. “The point is, darling, that enthusiastic consent can take on many forms and I know when you’re enthusiastic.” She grabbed my cock and pulled on it, squirming on the bed to take it in her mouth. As she looked up at me, her mouth full, she wrapped her arms around my ass and pulled me in close to her to drive my scepter all the way down the back of her throat. I could see her lovely ass on the bed, her legs bent at the knees and her feet dangling in the air with delight. I put my two hands on top of her thick mane and pushed her face as far as she could go onto my rod.

She pulled back, sliding off of my member slowly, licking its length with her tongue. When her mouth was free again, she asked, “Do you think Zach’s cock is big, long, and thick like yours?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“I want to find out,” she said. “Don’t you want to see me do this?” She licked and sucked again, grabbing the base of my cock with her right hand and fondling my gems.

She knows how to be persuasive. She was certainly going to get what she was after.

[Excerpt from the story, “Sexplorations,” from the blog:]

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

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