The snow had fallen most of the night and, half way through shoveling the drive, wouldn’t you know it, my shovel gives out under the weight of the stuff. I trounce through the six inches that had already fallen, down to the local hardware store and, as I walk in, I realize that this seemingly hapless event may turn out to be fortuitous. There I see in the window the most erotically designed plunger one ever laid eyes on! I wish to say, “Excuse me sir, how much is that dildo in the window?” Though I don’t make the slip of the tongue, I do purchase not one, but two of the excellent household necessities: one pink and one blue. As I’m at the checkout counter, the old grizzled gentleman at the cash register says to me in a gruff voice, “The lesbians will be mad at me for selling you the last two!”
Suddenly I realize that my little scheme is transparent! I start making excuses: “I have two bathrooms,” “But they’re so cute!” “For that price, how can I only buy one?” I realize that my verbose cover-up is a dead giveaway of my dirty intentions. Fuck it. I plunk down the cash and leave with the two plungers. He didn’t even give me a bag in order to conceal them! I had to walk the entire way home with them for all to see and I forgot to buy the snow shovel!
I got home and then, realizing that the drive was still covered in snow, I told Lo that they were out of shovels. There was no way I could go back there, so I took the bus (thankfully it was running!) to a different hardware store and got the effing shovel. Three hours later, the drive was clear, I was in a hot shower, and Lo was pining for me on the bed. When I got out of the shower, she yelled, “Open the door!” I did and, as I stood naked in the doorway, I saw Lo sprawled out on the bed — legs spread wide — rubbing her puss.
She looked up and jumped to attention, saying, “Put it in my mouth, Daddy!” I complied and she sucked away, frantically.
“I got a present for you,” I said.
“What?” she managed to ask, mouth full of meat, eyes looking up curiously.
“I was going to wait till later, but it looks like you might enjoy it now.”
She sat on the edge of the bed — “Give it to me!”
This one time she wasn’t talking about my dick, but about the present.
I reached into the drawer where I had stashed the two plungers, planning on wrapping them up properly later, and pulled them out.
“What the hell are those?!”
“My present for you.”
“But look! Look at this design.”
“They’re plungers. My God, I hope you didn’t spend a small fortune on them.”
“Don’t worry, money is no object.” (They were actually only 99¢ a piece.)
“Oh no. You did, didn’t you?”
“Don’t worry about it. They’re works of art.”
“You bring those right back to novelty sex-store or wherever you got them from and get your money back.”
“Darling, I got them cheap at the hardware store today.”
“The hardware store! Ewww. I’m not putting those inside me. That’s disgusting.”
“I washed them, thoroughly.”
“With lots and lots of soap and hot hot water.”
“But look, I got one pink for pussy and one blue for butt.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it. I bet you’ll love it.”
“How about blue — his, pink — hers?”
“I’ll let you put those in me if you let me put it in you first.”
“Oh, my dear. . .”
“Don’t knock it till you try it!”
“Then you understand how I feel.”
“But you’ll like it, I’m sure.”
“Hell no! There is no way in Sodom and Gomorrah that you are using those on me.”
“Sweetie, you regularly use a Tommy-gun-shaped dildo on yourself.”
“But that was intended to be used that way. There ain’t no way I’m putting a plunger in my puss!”
“You’ve used a champagne bottle.”
“That was sexy. . . and romantic.”
“You’ve used a shampoo bottle.”
“I was in the shower on vacation without access to my usual toys.”
“You’ve used a yellow highlighter.”
“I was on a plane. A woman has to make do, you know.”
“So, what you’re saying, is ‘No’?”
“Yes, what I’m saying is an emphatic, NO!”
That being the case, she still was horny to have me and she did look delightfully delicious there on the bed, so I had her. As I was furiously going at her, she began to say, “While you were in the shower, I jilled it.”
“Yes, Daddy. Am I bad?”
“Very.” I went at her more vigorously. “What did you jill it to?”
“Oh, I was naughty.”
“To a video.”
“One of my favorites.”
“You’ll be jealous, Daddy.”
Nothing gets me riled up like being jealous, and she knows it.
“Go on, tell me,” I demanded.
“Johnny Castle,” she said.
“Johnny Castle? Who’s that?”
She grabbed her phone and immediately the video resumed from where she left off. It showed a very fit, tall, dark and handsome man going at it with a willing and eager woman.
“I’m about to cum!” Lo called out. She was on all fours below me as I went at her from behind, looking over her shoulder at the video. Unfortunately I was about to cum too.
“NO, Daddy! Hold it. Just a little longer. Hold it. Don’t cum!” she pleaded.
Too late. I sprayed her back right up to her shoulder.
“Fuck! Fuck!” she exclaimed, slamming her fists into the pillows like a child having a temper tantrum. “I was so fucking close. It was going to be a fucking earthshattering orgasm.”
I felt bad. I really did.
“Let me help you with that,” I said, grabbing the pink plunger. “Keep watching your Johnny Castle.”
I slowly inserted the sculpted, bead-like handle into her puss and she called out, “Deeper, deeper.”
I go deeper, as commanded.
I give it to her harder, as commanded.
I give it to her faster, as commanded.
She’s intently watching Johnny Castle fuck this nameless woman and then she reaches around and grabs the plunger out of my hands, saying, “Like this!”
She inclines the plunger at a certain angle and furiously forces it ¾ of the way into her puss. “Got it?” she says.
“Got it,” I say as I take her lead.
Within fifteen seconds she is screaming, convulsing, and squirting on the bed. She drops from her knees to lying flat on her stomach as I slowly continue my long ins and outs with the plunger.
“Oh, yes. That was what I needed.”
“So you’re now a fan of the plunger?”
“I’m a fan of being fucked — however, whenever, wherever, whatever it takes.”
“Well, I’m going to keep these in your toy box.”
“Maybe we should start calling it a tool box,” she said as she looked up at me with a smile and a wink.
[From the blog: mysexlifewithlola.com]