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“The Sexual Olympics.” All night I had been having dreams of Lo’s final words to me the night before — her fantastical competition to see who could wear her out sexually. I had tossed and turned with crazy dreams involving Jesse Owens, Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh Jennings, and of course, Lo.

Lo sat atop a lifeguard tower, legs crossed, looking down over the Olympic Games as Misty May and Kerri Walsh battled it out in the sand below her — a game of one-on-one beach strip volleyball in which, for every point scored the losing competitor had to remove an article of clothing. They both started off in long, fur coats and gradually they removed their layers till they were down to their tiny trademark bikinis. They went at it furiously, volley for volley, until Kerri had to remove her top. Then Misty lost a point and she chose to remove her bottom. Misty May scored the final spike and Kerri took off her bottoms too, but in a show of solidarity, Misty took off her itsy-bitsy bikini top and they congratulated each other before bowing on one knee before Lo.

Just as they were both climbing up the lifeguard tower to receive their crowns and take their places next to Lo, overlooking the games, the crowd roared to see the 110 meter hurtle where all the male runners did it the way the ancient Greeks used to — in the buff. Up and over each hurtle they ran on the beach. Not only was Jesse Owens the fastest — by a long shot — he was also the longest and largest. It was a wonder of nature that he got over those hurdles with that package!

But then, as I looked left (though I wasn’t in the dream, my vantage point was from atop the lifeguard stand with Lo, as if looking out of her eyes), I saw that Michelle Jenneke was doing her famous warm-up dance at the finish line, also naked, and Mr. Owens had his eye on the prize. Off he sprinted toward her and she, bouncing up and down, eager to receive him, watched as he outstripped all the other runners. When he crossed the finish line, sweating, muscles glimmering in the sun, she bounded to him and placed the winner’s olive wreath upon his head, got on her knees in the sand, and began sucking his long shlong, preparing him for Lo.

At this point Lo curled her index finger, indicating that the two of them should approach and it was then that I felt Lo’s lips on my hard cock. Was I dreaming?

No, I was not dreaming. Lo was down there, frantically coaxing me with her mouth. I gradually distinguished illusion from reality and put my hands on her head to keep her taking me deep.

When she had had enough, she pulled off and said, “Fuck me, Daddy. I’m so wet. I’ve wanted you all night!”

“What have you been doing all night?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I was masturbating and. . .”

“Rubbing me?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Sucking me?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Did you fuck me too?”

“No, Daddy. I wanted to, but I was afraid I’d wake you up.”

“How many hours have you been doing this?” I asked as I looked at the clock. It was only five in the morning and still very dark outside.

“I don’t know,” she said, “Since about three, I guess.”


“Are you mad?”

“I’ve been having crazy dreams.”

“Sex dreams?”

“Yes, sex dreams! What do you think?”

“About me?”

“About you and Jesse Owens and a few others.”

“Who?” she asked with that tone of jealousy I know all too well.

“Some women.”

“Women? What women?”

“Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh Jennings.”

“Who are they?”

“Olympic beach volleyball players.”

“As if that’s even a sport,” she said sarcastically. What were they. . .” she began to ask when I interrupted her.

“Oh, and also Michelle Jenneke,” I said, just then remembering that part of the dream.

She turned away from me, very upset. She grabbed her phone and she began looking up the names. She got even more upset. “How do you know all their names?” she asked, not looking at me.

“I don’t know,” I said, not wanting to have a fight first thing in the morning.

“You must really like them, if you know their names.”

“They’re very famous,” I said.

“Famous?!” she scoffed, “Famous for doing a stupid dance.”

“Oh, come on, Lo, don’t be that way. It was just a dream,” I said as rubbed her bum.

“Don’t ‘oh, come on, me!’” she grunted, still looking at her phone.

“Give me a break! How many times do you have sex dreams of other people?!” I exclaimed and stopped rubbing her bum.

“Don’t stop,” she said, adding, “That’s not the point.”

I resumed rubbing her bottom. “Lo, are you really upset?”


“What can I do to make it up to you?”

“What do you think?”

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Do you want to fuck me, Daddy?”

“Do you want me to fuck you?” It’s a running game we have — who will ask for it first.

“Say it,” she insisted, still not looking at me, but wiggling her little butt like she had a tail and was a happy pup to get attention.

“I want to fuck you,” I said, giving in first, mainly to get over her jealousy.

“And only me?”

“Yes, Lo, only you.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Get behind me, mount me, and fuck me good and hard!”

I did as she said. She was on her knees and elbows. I slid right into her soaked pussy as she let out a groan of relief. “You’re so big, Daddy.”

“You’ve had me hard all night.”

I filled her up. She came very quickly. I began to pull out.

“Don’t stop!” she said.

I returned to my place. I kept thrusting. She came a second time. I began to pull out.

“What are you doing?!”

“You came twice now.”

“But I want you to cum.”

“Oh no, Lo. I’m not going to cum.”

“Why not?”

“I came last night. Do you want me to fall into a terrible funk first thing in the morning?”

“Then get back there and fuck me again. I need another orgasm.”

I got back into position. I went at her. If she had another orgasm in her, it was taking its own sweet time getting out. I lunged into her with all I had, rapidly.

“Oh Daddy,” she called over her shoulder, “You’re like a jackhammer.”

Her head was bouncing so hard with the reverberations of my pelvis that she was beginning to hit the headboard. I threw a pillow over her head to stop it. I threw another one down on her back and let my elbows fall there as my hands reached up to her hair and pulled on it like on the reigns of a horse. I felt like a jockey galloping down the home stretch of the Kentucky Derby. I had a rhythm and we were moving forward and back in perfect synchronicity.

“That’s it, Daddy,” she called out from under the pillows, “Ride me! Put your weight into me! Ride me! Pull my hair! Slam me! Use me! Fuck me! That’s it!”

Suddenly she was cumming with great big howls and screams. Even with the pillow muffling her voice, she was loud. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!!!” she cried out as her pussy clamped down on me followed by a ounce’s worth of her fluid pouring down over the bed.

Now that she was sloshing and sliding, I really kept going. To my surprise she asked me to stop. “No, Daddy, no! I can’t take it anymore. I’m too sore! You’ve been pounding me for a half hour now! No more, Daddy.”

I kept going. She knows our safe word. She knows what she needs to say to get me to stop. I turned up the intensity.

“Please, Daddy. PLEASE! Stop. It hurts. I can’t.”

She was begging for mercy.

“No, Lo,” I said as I gasped for air, “You woke me. You brought this down on yourself. You asked for it. You begged for it. Now you’re gonna get it. You’re gonna get what you asked for. You’re gonna get what you wanted and then some.”

“No! Please. I’m so sore!”

I pulled the pillows off of her face so as to hear her pleas all the more clearly.

“OK,” she said, “OK, use me. Do whatever you want with me. I can’t stop you. I can’t resist.”

Her legs went limp. Her arms too. She collapsed on the bed and spread her legs wide. Her body made an X on the bed and she let me go in and out of her as my body lay flat upon her back. In and out of that wet, loose pussy — sloshing and sliding my way inside her. She lay, unresponsive, exhausted, defeated.

Finally, realizing that I was no longer punishing her, I relented.

“What are you doing?” she asked as I pulled out and lay next to her.

“I’m stopping.”


“Because you asked me to.”

“Oh no,” she said. “You get back there and fuck me till you cum all over my face.”

“Not this time, Lo,” I said.

“What?! Why not?”

“Cause, you were a bad girl and you need to be taught a lesson.”

“You just taught me a lesson.”

“You need to be taught another lesson.”

“No, one lesson is enough. Now get back there, professor, and teach me.”

“No luck.”


“I’m getting up and making coffee.”

“Oh, fuck you!” she hollered at me as I got out of the bed and she grabbed her phone. “I can’t even fucking masturbate.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?! Because you just fucked me senseless and now my pussy is throbbing! I won’t be able to sit or to walk today.”

“Good. In that case, I shouldn’t keep going, should I?”

“I want you to cum.”


“Please, I’ll do whatever it takes.”


“Oh, you’re no fun!”

Standing naked next to the bed, I reached down and grabbed my stiff member with my right hand. “No fun, she says,” I said, speaking to it, “well, I guess we’ll just have to take our balls and go home.”

[From the blog:]

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

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