When we woke up I felt the dried salt of the sea and the sandy waters all over me and the sheets. I wanted to get clean and so I told Lo I was taking a shower. “Can I come too?” she asked like a puppy dog eager to go for a walk. Because she was speaking and not writing, I couldn’t tell if her question was asking whether she could “come” or “cum,” but I just assumed she meant both. I said, “Sure,” with a smile, and she followed me into the large, glass shower.
The warm water cascading down my briny body felt refreshing and cleansing. But it also stimulated the sensation of the two beers, now very fully occupying my bladder. Just as I realized this, Lo was about to enter the shower with me. “Wait,” I said.
“Just give me a moment,” I said impatiently.
Without saying a word or asking permission, she hopped in the shower and was standing next to me. She gave me a knowing look as she got down on her knees, as if paying homage to the unsheathed spear.
“Lo,” I said in a tone of complaint.
“Mark your territory, Daddy,” she said as she readied herself for the distinguishing degradation, the honorific humiliation. I gave her what she asked for, marking her breasts and torso as mine, and she basked in the shower like a loyal dog being pet by its master. She then kneeled her way forward to grip my limp dick with her palm, squeezing tightly, tugging gently, and stroking it in the shower till it was large and hard in her small hand.
Seeing the imposing sword that she so wanted, she stood up, turned around, and leaned over, supporting herself by the wall of the shower. She moved her right hand to her ass and slowly circled the target spot before inserting her finger inside — smoothly, easily. “Go on, Daddy, make me your dirty girl,” she said, indicating that she wanted me to use the alternate route to her orgasm.
I did as bidden and she moaned and then screamed with shouts of pain that gradually — with each gentle push, each hard plunge, penetrating a little deeper, thrust-by-thrust — turned to sighs and then shouts of ecstasy. She could hardly support herself now. Her knees were buckling, her arms struggled to grasp onto the shower wall. Water was pounding down upon her back. She had called out, “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” and now she was post-cumming and she was enduring. “Use me Daddy, use me!” she encouraged now, imploring me to cum inside her and make her my dirty little girl. “Make me your cream-pie,” she said, ratcheting up the dirty language. “Fuck my ass. Use it. Make me your cumbucket. Tell me what I am, Daddy.”
“You’re a dirty little whore! You’re a slut! You’re a filthy cum-crazed nympho.”
“That’s right, Daddy. Punish me. Punish me for being so bad. Fuck me right again.”
This was our little banter, akin to the sweet-nothings that others whisper to each other in the act of “making love.” Lo is capable of “making love” and whispering sweet nothings, but she likes fucking. Sometimes she is the one fucking, sometimes she is being fucked. She likes it all. She even relishes the word — fuck — as a sort of charm that can get her wet merely with the sound of it.
With the intense thrusting, pounding her tight little spot, stretching her deeper and further than she thought possible, I finally came and came hard, involuntarily yelling at the top of my lungs: FUCK! Like a primal scream of some conquering caveman.
I came voluminously. As soon as I did she pulled forward, turned around, dropped to her knees, and took my still convulsing cock into her mouth to suck every last drop from it. That dirty, dirty girl.
[From the blog: mysexlifewithlola.com]