“What about this one?” Lo asked, picking up an eighteen inch black dildo that required two hands to span its circumference.
“Anything, anything you like,” I answered.
I will admit that I was a little self-conscious. There were other patrons in the sex-toy shop and Lo was looking like a kid in a candy store, grabbing, feeling, handling, weighing, sizing up so many mouth-watering, delectable dildos, vibrators, and other various playthings.
It was the Wednesday before Valentine’s Day and we weren’t the only couple to go present shopping together, but we were the only couple flipping through Taschen Publishing’s The Big Penis Book 3-D in the corner of the store. Lo, wearing the 3-D glasses, was oo-ing and ah-ing at each successive page.
“Do you think that’s real?” she asked me.
“I don’t think they would include these models if they had to photo-enhance them,” I said.
“Can we get it, Daddy?” she asked.
“Lo, it’s awfully expensive.”
“But the glasses come with the book.”
“Oh,” I said facetiously, “in that case. . .”
“And that’s not all that will cum with the book,” she added.
“Lo. You can’t be serious. That book is huge!”
“Yes, it is.”
“What would we do with it?”
“I have some ideas in mind.”
“I bet you do.”
“It would make a great coffee table book.”
“For anyone who wants to cream with their coffee.”
“Daddy, you’re vulgar.”
“I’m vulgar? Surely you jest.”
When she had had enough of ribbing me about the book, she finally settled on her actual Valentine’s Day gift — a shiny new pair of silver Kegel balls.
After we left the store, Lo said, “We’re going to do it when we get home, right?”
“Lo, I don’t want to do it just because you’ve been looking at pictures of massive cocks in 3-D. I want you to want me.”
“I do want you, Daddio. I want you to fuck me — hard, long, rough, and hard.”
“You said hard twice dear.”
“That’s because I want you to fuck me twice as hard.”
“Twice as hard as what?”
“As the hardest thing you can think of.”
“That would be a diamond.”
“Yeah, twice as hard as that.”
“You know, there’s a saying that a diamond is a girl’s best friend. Some guys give their girlfriends diamonds on Valentine’s Day.”
“Symbolic of their love?”
“No, symbolic of things that are hard. I don’t want symbolism. I want your hard cock — twice as hard as a diamond.”
“Lo, has anyone ever told you you’re a real romantic?”
“I can’t imagine why not.”
“But I have been told that I’m the best they’ve ever had in bed, that I give the best blow jobs, and that I’m an insatiable nymphomaniac.”
“Who has told you that?”
“You, Daddy,” she said, grabbing my hand tenderly, “and lots of other men.”
We got home and I asked her as we walked in the door, “But don’t you want romance?”
“Look, old man,” she said, “I’m a horny chick who has needs. Let’s not beat around the bush. Take me to the bedroom and beat my bush!” She immediately stripped down to her bare essentials and turned tail and ran to the bedroom.
“Come in the bed,” she called to me, “I know I’m going to.”
I follow her.
“That’s it, Daddio,” she said encouragingly from the bed as she watched me unzip my jeans. “Fuck me!” she commanded as she rubbed her pussy.
I slid under the sheets, right up against her smooth naked body.
“It’s fucking freezing in bed,” I exclaimed.
“I know,” she whispered to me, “Be careful, my nipples are so hard they’ll poke out your eyes.” As she said this, she put her breasts in my face. She wasn’t kidding. I took her pointed, erect nipples in my mouth, one at a time. “Let’s rub our bodies together like sticks and start a fire,” she said.
Soon enough, we generated enough heat that we were both sweating. She came within only a few moments. I slowed down for her to catch her breath.
“Do you remember a few years ago when we went to see Breakfast at Tiffany’s on Valentine’s Day?”
“Yes,” she said with a smile recalling that pleasant time. “Why?”
“You just reminded me of it.”
“I was thinking, we could remake that film as a porno with you in the starring role of Holly Cumquickly.”
“You’re bad, Daddio. Now do me again!”
I did her as she wished, this time I was the one to cum quickly.
“Damnit!” she yelled, “I was so fucking close.” She reached under the bed and grabed her Hitachi. “I’ve got to get this second one out, or else.” She started off on her back, the Hitachi on her pussy, but soon enough she threw it aside, turned on her tum, took out her phone, and put on a naughty video of a woman on her knees looking up at five or six guys grabbing their cocks around her. She looked hungry for their seed.
I looked over her shoulder and then I found myself getting aroused at the sight of her masturbating to porn. I got behind her and slid my half-erect cock inside her wet and warm pussy.
“That’s it, Daddio,” she said encouragingly.
Soon she was cumming again. Her right hand dropped the phone and she was rubbing her clit as I rhythmically pounded away at her from behind. Her juices dripped down her inner thigh.
“What do you like about that video?” I asked her, as I slowed down my pace.
“I like all that cock in her face. I want that.”
“You know, I’ve thought about having a little party at a hotel room for you.”
“What sort of party?” she asked, her ass meeting my thrusts.
“I was thinking about inviting Hunter, and Dean, and that new guy you’ve been chatting with, maybe a couple of others and I’d be the master of ceremonies.”
“Go on,” she said — a phrase she uses whenever she’s getting aroused.
“I’d set up folding chairs in the room and get everyone seated comfortably. Then I’d introduce you. You’d enter the room from the bathroom wearing some sexy black silk lingerie and you’d start out on the bed with your Hitachi. You’d pull your panties to the side and let them all see how that Magic Wand makes you squirt. Then you’d have your arsenal of dildos at the ready and, one by one, you’d fuck yourself with them. As you did, I’d pass around your Remus for each of the guys to truly appreciate the size, weight, and heft of it. Then, when they all have seen the enormity of it for themselves, up close, we’d pass it back to you and — voila! — you’d fuck yourself with that to their amazement. Once you were good and wet and loose, you’d have them all take off their pants, get in a circle, and you’d get on your knees for them — just like in that video. You’d caress their balls as they jacked off in your face. You’d beg them to cum on you and in your mouth. They’d desperately want you to suck them off. You’d oblige and then, after each of them came, you’d see who is man enough for seconds. You’d climb on the bed, your ass in the air, and give each one a turn in whichever hole they desired.”
While I told her this, she came two or three more times and then, finally, hearing her ask me, “Please, please, do that for me!” I came too.
After I came all over her body — Jackson Pollok style — she asked for more.
“Sweetheart,” I said, “I’m done.”
“You realize I’m not even close to my sexual peak.”
“Well, darling, you’d better find some more boyfriends — at least a half-dozen or so — cause I peaked twenty years ago.” As I said this, I began to fade from consciousness.
“Oh, I shouldn’t have let you cum a second time,” she said, “Now you’re going to go into a deep dark depression. You don’t love me now.”
I turned onto my side and replied, “Yes, I still love you. It’s just love in a more nascent state now.”
I could see the blue flicker from her phone as she resumed the video she was watching earlier and I heard the hum of her Hitachi.
“You don’t mind if I. . .” she said.
“Darling, not only don’t I mind, I am thankful to everyone from Benjamin Franklin right down to James Deen for contributing to making your solo sexual endeavors a success.”
No response. Just the steady purring of her motor.
“Where’s my amen?” I asked.
“Ah, men!” she called out as she finally came one last time.
[From the blog, mysexlifewithlola.com]