“Daddio,” Lo called from the bathroom, down the hall, to the living room where I sat on the couch writing that morning.
“What?!” I called back.
“Daddio, do me a favor,” she called, “go get my panties from the laundry room.”
I got up and went to get them. You see, I do the laundry for our household usually. The reason for this is twofold. One, I don’t think that Lo should have to do my laundry and my kids’ laundry. Two, I like to do Lo’s dirty laundry — especially her panties. I take extra good care of them and, instead of putting them in the dryer with all the other stuff, I hang them out to dry so that the delicate lace doesn’t get ripped and for the aesthetic enjoyment of seeing them displayed there like an erotic art installation.
Lo has her fabric fetishes too. When my t-shirts get warn and ripped, instead of throwing them out or using them as rags, she takes them and keeps them in the night stand by her bed to hold onto and smell when I’m not home. She also has a thing for ties. She likes to take my soft, silky tie from around my neck and rub it between her legs. Sometimes she asks me to caress her with it till she cums. Needless to say, those ties then go in her special fetish drawer with her dildos, vibrators, and other accessories.
Without objection I went to the laundry room and got all of Lo’s panties hanging on the line and brought them up to her. I found her standing naked over the bed and I spread the panties before her for her consideration. “Which will it be today?” I asked.
As she bent over to pick, I got behind her and, on my knees, gave her a special kiss right where she likes it. She moaned and then she asked, “Did you hear me in the shower?”
“No. Were you bad?”
“Was it good?”
I went at her for a few moments and then she said, “You have to stop, Daddio. I’ve got to get to work.”
I didn’t stop. Instead, I lifted up her feet and put them on my shoulders. My hands went to work massaging her toes, the soles of her feet, her heels, her ankles, her calves and back down again.
Before long she came.
I stood up and there was a very pronounced bulge in my pajama bottoms.
“Daddy!” Lo said. “Let me see it.”
I pulled it out for her.
I did as she instructed.
I did as she wished.
“Sure you don’t want it?” I asked.
“I must go.”
[From the blog: mysexlifewithlola.com]