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I was cooking breakfast when I heard Lo call to me from the bedroom. The eggs were frying and the toast toasting.

“What?” I called back.

She replied something inaudible again.

“Come in the kitchen and tell me,” I called back to her, growing a little peeved with her lack of consideration for my meal.

A few moments passed.

“Come on!” I called, increasingly more agitated.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she said angrily as I heard her feet scampering.

“Well, you’re not coming fast enough.”

She got to the kitchen entrance, buck naked, and said, “That’s something I don’t hear said to me often.”

I looked up at her and instantly my anger transformed to desire. “Well,” I said in a more calm tone, “what was it you said?”

“I said that you should save your eggs for later and come fuck me.”

I looked at her. I looked at my two eggs in the pan — sunny-side-up — staring back at me. I looked at her again. I suppose that for most men there wouldn’t even be a choice — a delicious woman standing naked in a doorway saying “fuck me,” or a couple of eggs and toast. But, when that “fuck me” is a refrain that one hears two, three, four times a day, it becomes a choice. Breakfast or bang?

I chose breakfast. (Go ahead, judge me.)

Lo turned around with a “Hrrumph!” and stomped away. I saw her little ass cheeks temptingly rise and fall for a brief moment in the doorway. “Fine!” she said, “I’ll just have to fuck myself then.”

I sat down with my morning paper and my warm meal as she hopped into bed with her dildo — strategically leaving the door open for me to hear her moans and cries.

As I read, I heard her (and I’m sure the neighbors did too) — one couldn’t help but hear her.

She was done in a jiffy — faster even than I could eat my eggs and toast. She sauntered into the breakfast corner where I was seated, still naked as the day she was born, and stood next to me — her pussy just about level with my face. She reached over and grabbed a piece of toast and took a bite.

“Hey!” I said, “that’s my breakfast.”

“Spank me!” she said, turning tail and bending over so that her ass and a sliver of her puss were protruding toward me.

I ignored her.

“Come on, Daddy-O, don’t be a bore.”

I patted her ass as I chewed on my toast.

“Yeah,” she said as she moved her hand between her legs, slowly finger-fucking herself in front of me.

I continued with my meal.

She got on the floor, on her hands and knees, and crawled under the table. “Aren’t you hard, Daddy?”

She fidgeted with the button of my pajama pants and, undoing it, took out my cock and placed it in her mouth. She began sucking away at it.

I finished my small breakfast and let her have a bit more of my meat before getting up.

“It’s time I got ready for work,” I said nonchalantly to her under the table.

“Damn it! What do I have to do to get laid around here?!” she exclaimed as she scurried out from under the table and followed me into the bedroom.

“Pull it!” she commanded as she stood in front of me, blocking my way to my bureau, pulling on her own nipple.

I pulled.

“Twist it!” she commanded next.

I twisted.


I twisted and pulled.

“No, yank it!”

I laughed. She reminded me of the kids’ game, “Bop-it!” where the machine instructs you to “Bop it! Twist it! Pull it!”

“That’s it,” she said, leaning in as I stretched her normally curvaceous breast out into a cone shape. “You’re getting me wet now.” She grabbed my other hand and put it between her legs. Yes, she was getting wet.

“Lo,” I said, “I have to get to work. I have a client coming in about a half hour.”

“I’ll be cumming sooner than that if you just bend me over and do me. Promise. Two minutes. That’s it. That’s all I need. Gimme that long hard cock for just two minutes.”



“Two minutes?”

“That’s it. That’s all.”

“OK, get on your knees and suck me till I’m hard.”

She dropped. She took my flaccid cock in her hands and began slapping it against her cheek. Then she licked it slowly.

I looked at the clock. It was 9:13. I thought, “She’s going to have to speed this along.”

Clearly she was trying to enjoy it as much as she could.

Within thirty seconds of her taking my whole member deep into the back of her throat my cock was tumescent.

“OK, stand up and bend over.”

She did, leaning on the window sill, looking out onto the street.

I entered her wet, warm, waiting pussy with ease. She let out a little moan. She immediately was grinding into me and then violently pounding me with her buttocks. She called out. She pushed back. She bent completely over and reached down to grab the back of her ankles with her hands as I fucked her from behind. Over her curved back I could see onto the street where people were walking by on their commute to work.

I gave the slut what she wanted hard and fast and within seconds she was squirting down her inner thigh and dropping to her knees.

I left her there like a limp, wounded soldier as the instrument of her undoing stood straight at attention.

I got dressed as she watched from the floor.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she managed to say.

[Excerpt from the story, “Off the Hook,” from the blog:]

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

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