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I am sitting at one end of the sectional couch and Lo sits at the other, her black skirt pulled up over her waist, her finger sliding up and down between her silky smooth, shaven pussy lips. The TV screen flickers with the action of the film. The windows to the street are open wide, as are the blinds, because it’s a sultry summer night. Beads of sweat are on my brow just as tiny beads of excitement were forming on Lo’s sweet peach.

“Lo,” I said, “it’s not a porno.”

“It’s a movie with Kate Winslet,” she retorted immediately.

Dreary, dark, drab as it may be, the prospect of older seductrix and younger boy was appealing to Lo. And the bath scene. . . The bath in the beginning of the film had Lo going right away.

“If you keep that up, you’re going to squirt all over the living room.”

“Then let’s go to the bedroom and heat things up until I catch fire, then I’ll be the firewoman and put it out!”

“Lo, we’re in the middle of a movie. You know I hate interrupting movies.”

“It’s only just begun and you know how horny I get at the sight of Kate Winslet naked.”

“It’s not Titanic,” I said, and as I said it I realized that both that film and this one involved mass death and sex.

“What’s that mean?”

“I mean, she’s no longer the sexy, buxom starlet she was twenty years ago.”

“That was eighteen years ago, and I don’t care. She’s still damn hot! She’s the first woman I ever masturbated to. You have no idea how many times I ran that scene from Titanic back and forth on the VCR. The tape eventually broke and I had no idea how to explain it to my parents.”

“What happened when you discovered Heavenly Creatures?”

Now she had two fingers in and was jilling frantically. “Don’t even. . .” she said, putting up the index finger of her left hand in the air as if to say, “Just one second.” Then she squeezed her knees together and said, “Fuck! Fuck! Oh fuck!” She squirted on the couch a bit, jumped up and ran into the bathroom to let out the rest.

After some screams of pleasure that I could hear down the hall, she returned to the living room contritely. “Sorry, Daddy, it was an accident” she said.

“It’s ok,” I said. “It happens.”

Her eyes brightened up.

“I mean,” I said, “it happens, but it only happens to you.”

“I’m sure I’m not the only one that it happens to.”

“I’ve never met nor heard of any other woman who was subject to ‘accidental squirting.’”

“Look, we all have our charming, endearing quirks.”

“I had no idea you had so many charming, endearing quirks. You must be the charmingest, endearingest person on the planet.”

“I agree! Now fuck me!”

“Can we please watch the movie?!”

“Fine,” she said with a pout, sitting on the couch again, pulling her skirt up again, stroking her pussy again.

After some time, I noticed something.

“Lo,” I said, “did you see that car drive by before?”

Lo looked out the window. “No.”

Some more time went by. “Lo, that car keeps cruising by our house — slowly going up and down the street.”

“Why do you think they’re doing that?” she asked, feigning naïveté.

“I don’t know. It’s two days early to be delivering the Sunday paper.”

“Do you think they’re looking for something?” she asked.

“Maybe they’re looking at something. Something they see through the window. Something they like.”

“Well, at least someone is looking at something they like!” She got up off the couch, lifted her little skirt up to show her ass through the window to the onlookers, and stomped out of the living room.

I followed her, seeing that she was upset. I had had a whiskey on the rocks while we were watching the beginning of the movie and now I was feeling torpid.

When I got to the bedroom she was reading a book — naked — and ignoring me.

After brushing my teeth and getting undressed, I got into bed.

“Look,” I said, “if you want to fuck, we’d better do it soon cause the window of opportunity is closing fast.”

She continued reading and then she got up and brushed her teeth and peed (leaving the door wide open) and then returned to the bed. She placed her mouth over my cock. I rolled over.

“Sorry dear,” I said as I was falling off to sleep, “the only window still open is the self-serve window.”

As I lay on my side, turned away from her, I heard her lean over the side of the bed to rummage through her toy box as she muttered, “Really? I thought it was the soft-serve window.”

[From the blog:]

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

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