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Waking up in the morning, Lo walks into the living room where I sit on the couch sipping my hot coffee and reading e-mails. She is naked and she curls up next to me.

“Morning,” I say.

She nuzzles her way in, under the blanket draped over me.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Just reading some fan mail you’ve received.”

Lo receives a lot of fan mail.

Her eyes suddenly grow wide and she looks more carefully. She’s not used to seeing without her glasses. “Anything interesting?” she asks as she snuggles up more closely.

“Yeah, a lot.”

“Mmmmm, tell me all about it.”

“Well, this guy sent you a few pics of himself.”

She turns the laptop to her so she can see all-the-more. “Meh,” she says, unimpressed with what she sees.

Turning the laptop back toward me, I scroll down a bit. “This guy sent you a series of pics of himself getting off to your photos.”

She again turns the computer to her exclusive sightline. “Oh, I like that. I like that a lot.”

I have to wrest the computer back to show her more. “This couple sent in a request.

“Oh? And what do they want?”

“They’d like you to take pics of yourself jillin’ it to her photos.”

“Let me see!”

I turn the computer to her and she looks at the submission. She looks and looks.

“Well?” I finally ask.

“I’ve got some ideas.”

“I bet you have.”

She begins rubbing her puss now under the blanket.

“What else?”

“I’m afraid to show you.”

“Why?”

“I think you’ll get too riled up.”

“I like getting too riled up.”

“It’s too early for too riled up.”

“It’s never too early or too late. When it’s too late, you just wait a little and it will soon be early. When it’s too early, just wait and soon it will be late. Right now is the best time for some riling up.”

I show her the pic that a fan sent in. She practically drools over it.

“Do me, Daddy! Do me!”

“I told you.”

He wouldn’t turn me down,” she says.

“I haven’t even finished my first cup of coffee yet.”

“Don’t be boring. Don’t you see the legions of men who are in line for some of this?” she asks as she slaps her pussy under the blankets. She pushes the computer to the side and drops her head in my lap instead. “Don’t be that way. Do me.”

“What way?”

“Old.”

“Old? You are hardly wooing me, my dear.”

“I mean, set in your ways. Live a little.”

“Darling, living with you is living a lot. It’s living out loud. It’s living like I’ve never lived before.”

“Then lust a little. Whatever it takes. But do me.”

“Get warmed up first,” I say.

“Oh, I’m on fire,” she says, pulling the blanket off her legs to reveal how her hand has been caressing her labia.

“I like this view,” I say, “might I take a picture?”

“Daddio, you’re living all up here,” she says, putting her left hand to my temple, looking up at me, “but sometimes you have to lose your mind in order to cum to your senses.”

She gets up, turns, leans forward on the arm of the couch, getting on all fours on the leather cushions. Placing her ass in my face, looking over her shoulder, she says, “You want this, don’t you Daddy?”

I move the computer to the coffee table, pull my erect companion out of the peep hole of my pajama pants and mount her.

“That’s a good dog,” she calls out as I pull her close to my hips.

She cums once on the couch — not an earth-shattering orgasm, but just enough, and all over my flannel pants. When she’s done, she pulls off of my rod and walks away down the hall to the bedroom. I follow her like a satyr for a nymph. “Bring the computer, Daddio,” she calls back to me.

“Why?”

“I want to see those fellas who want me while you fuck me.”

“You’re an egomaniacal, sex-craved, slut!”

“And don’t you forget it!”

In the bedroom, she sets up the computer just so on the nightstand next to the bed. She lies down, missionary position, spreads her legs, and lets me slide between her glistening thighs as her head is turned to the side and her right hand on the computer, scrolling from one photo to another. Her left hand is gently fiddling with her clit.

“You don’t care who’s fucking you, you just want to get off,” I say.

“Shut up and keep pounding me. Harder! My puss is aching for more.”

I obediently give her what she wants. Within mere moments, she’s coming. It’s short, sweet, and sweaty. When she’s done, she says, “Hold it. Stay right there. Don’t move. Just fill me. No cumming for you. Not until I give the go ahead.”

“I’m starving,” I say, pulling out from her, more than a little frustrated with her teasing ways.

“Me too,” she says, flipping around and taking my cock into her mouth. “Won’t you cum now, in my mouth or on my face?” she asks, sensing my frustration.

A little upset with her for the way she ignored me during our last round, I pull back and say, “No. I’m going to make pancakes.”

Angry, she looks up at me. “This is more tasty than pancakes.”

“For you.”

“And more enjoyable for you,” she adds, grabbing my rod with her right hand and holding it tightly. “You’re not going anywhere.” She can be demanding when she’s intent upon something. “I need practice.”

She opens her mouth wide and, like a sword swallower, slides every inch of me down her throat. Slowly pulling my meat out, she looks up at me, “You always liked that trick, didn’t you Daddio?”

“It’s one of your best,” I say.

“You may go now,” she says like Marie Antoinette addressing a servant.

“Do you want some pancakes, M’Lady?” I ask.

“You know I do, but I have to be good,” she says, batting her eyelashes at me.

“You?! — Good?! Ha!” I say sarcastically as I leave the room.

“I’m the best you’ve ever had ! I’m the best you’ll ever have! And don’t you forget it!” she calls from behind the closed bedroom door.

[Excerpt from the story, “She is My Slut (And I Love Her),” from the blog: mysexlifewithlola.com]

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Just your average nymphomaniac next door. I love fan mail: downloladown@gmail.com

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