I find the quiet buzz of Lo’s Hitachi Magic Wand relaxing to fall asleep to and I’ve been falling asleep to it every night for the past week. It is a little jarring when she switches from ‘Lo’ power to ‘Hi’ power, especially because that is rapidly followed by her moans, howls, and convulsions. There is a moment of heavy breathing and then she gets up out of bed to remove the soaked towel under her and throw it in the laundry hamper. But, I suppose there are worse things that one could complain about.
I’ve been depressed for over a week now and that has taken a toll on my sex life with Lola.
This night, after Lo cleaned up, she pulled out her phone and, even with my eyes closed and my head under the pillow, I still found the faint blue glow of the screen annoying. As Lo was reading in bed, almost unconsciously her left hand found its way to my cock and began pulling and tugging, jacking me off.
“Good night, slut,” I mumbled from under the pillow.
I felt her legs clench together. What was meant to shut her down only had the effect of revving her up.
“Daddy,” she said.
I did not respond.
“Are you awake?”
“I’m talking, aren’t I?”
“Daddy, I’ve been — .”
“What?” I asked, removing the pillow from my head so as to hear her properly.
“I’ve been a — .”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve been reading some very, very bad stories.” As she spoke, her hand continued to stroke my cock.
“What have you been reading?”
“Confessions of — .”
“Lo, why are you so bad?”
“Because being good is no fun.”
“I think you’re having a little too much fun. Good night.”
“You know what they say, Daddy — all fun and no play makes a boring boy. Do you want to play?”
“You can fuck my face, Daddy.”
“That’s sweet of you. It really is, but I’m not up for it.”
Her hand was still stroking me, but I was far from stiff.
“Read me a story.”
“Read to me.”
“You want me to read from whatever blog that was making you so horny?”
“No, read me one of your stories, about me!”
She knows my weak spot. I pulled up my computer onto the bed and began reading an as-of-yet unpublished draft of a story I had been working on. She made a couple of critical comments as her left hand was still plying my meat and her right hand was stroking her lower lips.
When I finish, she asked, “Is it ever difficult for you to have all these pornographic ideas in your brain?”
“Yes, of course it is. But you’re the one who put those ideas there. It’s like reverse insemination.”
“How do you keep on coming up with these stories?”
“Easy — by not cumming.”
“Actually it’s very easy. A wise person once said, ‘Do what you love and love what you do.’ I just follow that advice.”
“Do me! Do me!” she screamed, moving my computer off my lap and replacing her body there, straddling me, her tits in my face. She waved them and wiggled them around for a bit, brushing her nipples up against my lips, seeing if I would bite. Then she turned around, put her tail in my face and went down on my cock with her warm mouth. I obliged her by putting my tongue in her wet pussy and then her ass. To my surprise, I found myself getting hard. Soon I was hard enough to give her what she wanted. She turned around again, straddling my cock, lowering herself slowly onto it and then bouncing up and down, making sure her tits smacked me in the face.
She was getting close and I could feel her insides squeezing my cock tightly, like a fist around a rope. She looked at me and said, “You’re not allowed to cum.”
“Because I’m going to cum first. And also, you’re too depressed.”
“No, I think I’m cumming out of it.”
She came a drenching waterfall onto my lap. She knows exactly how that excites me and she repeated, “No, you’re not allowed to cum.”
I pushed her up and off of me onto her back on her side of the bed. I was angry now. “Well, if I can’t cum, then I’m gonna go.”
I got up and took my computer in my hands.
“Where are you going?” she begged to know.
“I’m going to write.”
“Can you write in the bedroom?”
“Of course. What do you take me for, a fool? Those three words are easy enough to spell.”