Power Drill
I came home from work. I could hear the stream of the shower running. I walked into the bedroom with a sing-song “Hellooo.”
“Daddy?”
I walked into the bathroom. “I’m home.”
“Daddy!” Lo called from behind the shower curtain with both surprise and excitement.
“Are you jillin’ it?”
“Yes. Wanna see?”
I pulled the curtain back to see Lo standing with the water beating down upon her breasts from one showerhead above her and the other showerhead held between her legs spraying a powerful jet of water directly on her clit.
“Go away!” she shouted.
“What?”
“Go away. I need some privacy.”
“You just invited me to watch you.”
“Go! — and don’t peek.”
I let go of the shower curtain and as I walked out of the bathroom I called over my shoulder, “Need any toys? Your Tommy-gun dildo? The suction-cup? Present #5?”
“No, Daddy-O.”
I walked into the living room and sat down on the couch looking out the windows onto the beautiful sunny, tree-lined street as the clear spring day’s rays slanted across the road indicating that it would be evening before too long.
I saw my neighbor, Dave, whose power drill I borrowed over the weekend, walking by with his puppy. I called out the window without thinking, “Dave! Dave!”
I had tried to return his drill on Sunday, but he wasn’t home and with my poor memory I’d never remember to return it if I didn’t give it to him now. The thought of his thinking I had taken it for keeps was weighing on me. But as I called to him I remember Lo and her shower activity. Too late. He came to the front door.
“Hi HH.”
“Hi Dave. I’ve got that power drill for you.”
“Thanks. Did it do the trick?”
“Oh yeah. Thanks so much. My battery powered drill was totally useless.” Somehow in my mind everything we were saying took on a dirty double-meaning. “I’ll just run and get it for you.”
I literally tried to sprint down the stairs to the basement to grab it and as I did I heard the orgasm ramping up.
“Oh. . . oh,” called Lo in a crescendo from the bathroom. If I was fast enough, I might just be able to shoo him out the door before she was inadvertently. . .
“OH-God-FUCK!” Nope. Too late.
I found Dave waiting with his dog in the entrance way as the sounds of Lo’s climactic expletives boomed down the hallway after me.
“Here you go, Dave,” I said as I passed it to him.
“Is everything ok?” he asked, looking down the hall.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, calmly, “Lo’s just, uh, taking a shower and the pipes, you know, the water in here sometimes gets too hot or too cold. I’m sure she’s just cursing them out.”
“Yes, YES!” she screamed now, just in time to cause my words to ring false.
“Um, ok,” he said. “Let me know if you need it again.”
“Will do.”
“For anything,” he said with an ambiguous smile as he walked out.
[Excerpt from the story, “Mirror Mirror,” from the blog: mysexlifewithlola.com]
