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“Do I look good, Daddy?” Lo asked.

“My dear, you look ravishing!”

“Really?” she asked as she walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom wearing her sexy red dress. I was in my boxers trying to find the right pants for the evening and she slowly bent over the bed and lifted the hemline up and over her beautiful, pantiless, ass. She looked back at me over her shoulder and saw my meat bulging. “I love how it always stands at attention, like a true gentleman, when I walk in the room.” She got on her knees like a dog doing tricks and pulled the eager member out of its tight confinement and it sprung with energy at her face. She looked up at me, “Mmmm, Daddy, you’re excited for tonight.” She took me in her mouth and slowly licked the head like a lollipop with her tongue.

“Lo, we have to go soon,” I said, unsure as to whether I’d be able to control myself with her looking so good on her knees in front of me.

“Daddy, I’m just getting warmed up.”

She continued for a bit and then she went back to her position by the bed — leaning over on her hands, lifting her dress up, revealing her pink pussy under the red fabric. “Should I wear panties tonight or not?”

Now it was my turn. I got on my knees and began to have at her crotch with my tongue. Up and down from clit to ass, I licked and protruded each orifice. She moaned with pleasure; she squealed with delight. She bent over further and soon was panting, “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum. Yes, Daddy! Right there.”

Within seconds she was cumming on my face.

When she recovered, she said, “Well, that settles it. I must wear panties. I’m dripping down my thigh as it is. I’ll end up with a puddle in my boots if I don’t.” She put on a lacy red thong and grabbed her coat and we were out the door.

It turned out that Lo felt best meeting with Hunter at the same hotel bar that we had gone to for Cinco de Mayo (when Lo wanted to pick up a suit for a quick fuck) and where we had met Bill for her little tryst with him.

Lo and I got there right on time and, after looking over the bar, we didn’t see the man of the hour. It was quite busy — probably some accountant’s convention or similar nonsense — and we were hungry, so we got a very intimate, yet exposed table where we could look out over the whole bar as we awaited Hunter’s arrival.

We ordered drinks and, I have to say, Lo looked devilish in her hot little red number. She looked so good that I couldn’t resist taking a photo of her with my phone. There she sat, on the plush red leather seats, her long dark hair radiant and luminous in the dim light, her red lipstick matching the red of her shoulderless dress. The pic I took of her captured everything about that moment. It is a study in contradiction. In it, her hand is tucked under her chin, playing with her hair, her head tilted a bit, and she is looking up in a shy, almost innocent way from behind her glasses. Yet, the small pout of her mouth says “SLUT” in a very subtle tone that is accentuated by the hot red of her lipstick and dress. I’ve framed this picture of Lo and told her that it portrays her entire personality in its dual-nature: her girlish innocence and her coquettish experience.

We sipped our drinks, talked, and people-watched as we sat in anxious expectation of Hunter. Lo said to me, “Daddy, I’m so wet, so horny. You’re sure it’s ok if I get a room with him if he wants?”

“We’ll see, Lo,” I said in measured words, “We’ll see.”

“Feel me, Daddy,” she said as she grabbed my hand and put it between her bare legs, up and under her skirt, right there under the table where we couldn’t see it, but people in front of us certainly could!

Oh yes, she was wet all right.

She received a text from him, “Just parking,” he said. She squirmed in her seat and her face grew flush briefly.

A few moments later Lo sat straight up and said, “There he is!” I stood up to greet him and gave him a firm handshake, introducing myself. He smiled, casually, and said a polite hello before sliding in to sit next to Lo. Our table was an oval and I sat on the end, Lo in the middle, and then Hunter next to her such that I was off to a 90° angle from the two lovebirds.

He gave her a small kiss on the cheek and said some warm words. He ordered a drink and soon we were all talking about this and that. He seemed at ease, but he didn’t touch Lo. It was obvious to me that he wanted to put his arm around her, but every time he (almost instinctively) went to do so, he caught himself and put his arm back on the table.

That didn’t stop Lo from letting her left hand feel its way around his leg, arm, and crotch. She smiled and flirted, licked her lips, and lifted and lowered her voice. She was a seductress par excellence. At some point I got up to use the restroom. When I returned, Hunter had his right arm around Lo and every once in a while he’d remove it from her shoulders to let it rest on her bare leg. Lo allowed her hand to fondle him over his pants as well.

The night passed pleasantly enough, with the exception that his phone kept on vibrating on the table with text messages from his wife: “Where are you?” “When will you be home?” “What is the address?” Hunter freely admitted that she was suspicious of him. “In fact,” he said, “that’s why I’m wearing this t-shirt and these ratty old jeans. I knew we were going to a fancy hotel, but I couldn’t put on anything decent because I told her I was just going out to a bar with some buddies.”

The more the phone rang and the more Hunter ignored the elephant in the room with us, the more anxious Lo became about keeping him out late. We decided to settle up and call it a night. (“No hotel room this time, sweetheart,” I said as she pouted.) We walked down to the back parking lot and, partly out of a desire to keep our identities hidden by not revealing our car to Hunter, and partly for my baby-girl’s pleasure, I said that I’d go get the car and meet Lo at the front of the Hotel after she had a chance to kiss her beau goodnight.

I hopped in the car and about a half hour later Lo emerged from the hotel’s front doors, a big grin on her face. She hopped in and I asked her how it went. Without a word, she practically jumped into my seat and gave me a big kiss on the lips. “Let’s go home and bone!” she said as she grabbed my cock.

I drove the car as her hands frantically rubbed her pussy up and down under her skirt and tight panties. She vigorously stroked back and forth until she squirted — wetting her panties and calling out, “Oh — for that one hot moment of glory!” She clearly was fantasizing in the car about what it would have been like to get the room with Hunter.

[Excerpt from the story, “Silver Fox, Mynx, and the Hunter — Part IX: Cloak & Dagger,” from the blog:]

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

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