It was late and all through the house not a creature was stirring, only Lo, clicking her mouse.

I was on my side of the bed, facing away from Lo, but I could feel the side of her thigh up against my back and the gentle rocking of the bed. I gave it a minute, or twenty. But when the motions didn’t cease and the moans increased, I rolled over to face her.

She was sitting up in bed, naked, her legs bent at the knees, one of them had been resting against me. Her computer was between her legs, as one of her hands manipulated it and the other manipulated her clit. The thin white strings of her earbuds dangled over her bare breasts on their way to their hidden nooks under her thick dark hair.

“Daddy,” she complained, as if my rolling over interrupted her activities.

“You know I’m trying to sleep here, Lo, right?”

“Just a couple more minutes,” she said without taking her eyes away from the screen. “I’m getting close.” Her voice was unusually loud because of the sounds kept out by the earbuds and their volume in her ears.

“Your onanistic sessions are taking longer and longer,” I observed.

“Shhhh,” she hissed, unconsciously. I don’t even know if she heard what I said.

I rolled back on my side, away from her in order to allow her her privacy while she finished. She seemed put off by my lack of interest.



“Don’t you want to know what I’m looking at?”

I was going to be informed either way I answered so I said, “Yes, Lo, what is it that has you all riled up?”

“My friend Sam.”

“Sam? Who’s Sam?”

“I told you. He and his wife are big fans.”


“Well, he just wrote to me. You want to hear what he said?”

“I’m on the edge of my seat.”

“I’m on the edge too.”

“What did Sam say?”

“He said: ‘I had a sex dream about you the other night. We were having sex in my bed, next to Alia as she slept, and I came inside you four times before I woke up with a major hard-on and had to stroke to you until I came for real.’ And you know what I said?”


“‘I’m so flattered! It would feel soooo good to have you cum inside me four times! I’d be oozing your cum all day. Did you tell Alia about your dream?’”

“OK, and he said?”

“He said, ‘I didn’t tell Alia about the dream. It never came up. I did use her as a cumdump last night though. I was reading through your posts and got super horny, but she wasn’t in the mood for sex, so I asked her if she would mind if I came inside her pussy and she was fine with that. I was so horny from reading about you that it only took maybe 30 seconds of pounding her before I blew my load deep inside her. It was so hot using her as a cumdump. I really enjoy giving women pleasure, but sometimes it’s nice to focus just on my own pleasure.’ Isn’t that hot?”

As she asked, her orgasm began to take over her body, causing her to twitch and convulse. She moved her laptop just fast enough to avoid squirting on it. I grabbed it from her and viewed the photos Sam had sent accompanying his little virtual postcard to Lo.

When Lo was done, she got up (and got me up) to change the soaking sheets.

“Sam says that Alia wants to be more like you.”

“I know! Isn’t it flattering?”

“Lola Down — inspiring hotwives everywhere.”

“I like that. Did you just think of it?”

“A stroke of genius.”

“Did you say stroke?”

“I did, but not with the meaning that Sam has for stroke.”

“Can I stroke you, Daddy?” she asked, getting into the newly made bed with me and grabbing my cock.

“You still want more?”

“I’ve yet to find my upper limit when it comes to sex.”

“Fine. Turn on your back and spread your legs.”

If there was a male equivalent to what Sam described his wife, Alia, as — a “cumdump” — then I was it. I was a prop for Lo’s pussy to palpitate upon.

I was balls-deep into her soaked, sloppy pussy. Her secretions slathered me from my crotch to my knees. She was so slippery at this point that I could hardly feel anything as I repeated the motions that turned on her spigot.

“I want you to gift me,” she said, breathing heavily.

“What?” I asked, looking down at her face as it contorted with pleasure. Her eyes were shut and she was clearly envisioning something with her imagination.

“Instead of just passively giving permission for me to fuck other people, I want you to give me — — as a gift.”

“To whom?”


She came yet again as she said it.

I pulled out, allowing her body to recover. The sheets were drenched. Her puss was gaped. Her breaths were deep, long, and loud.

“Why’d you stop?” she eventually queried.

How to tell her that her extreme arousal made fucking her indistinguishable from dipping my cock in a widemouthed jar full of warm water?

“I’m old,” I said. “I need a break.” Not a lie, but maybe not the whole truth.

“That’s why I want you to gift me,” she replied. “If you can’t handle me, then might as well give me to someone who can.”

“Can’t handle you, or can’t satisfy you?” I asked.

“A little from column A, a little from column B.”

“How about you gift me your ass and I’ll show you a column that will satisfy you, if you can handle it.”

“I thought you said you need a break.”

“Breaktime is over. Show me the back door and I’ll get to it in the workroom.”

“Nah,” she said, nonchalantly.

“What do you mean, nah?”

“Not today, ole man.”

“But you ‘gift’ your ass to the brothers and they don’t ask, or even beg like I do.”

“I do that for you.”

“How is it for me?”

“It makes you jealous. It’s practically the only thing I can do to make you jealous. And when I don’t allow you to have my ass, it makes you even more jealous.”

“You know me too well.”

“Why do you want my ass so badly?”

Rather than tell her the actual reason — that her pussy had become too much of a bath for me, I said, “It’s like Peter Gabriel sings.”


“Don’t you know the song?” I asked. Her perplexed look indicated I had to recite it for her:

In your ass
The light, the heat
In your ass
I am complete
In your ass
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
In your ass
The resolution of all the fruitless searches
In your ass
I see the light and the heat
In your ass
Oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
The heat I see in your ass

“I don’t think those are the lyrics,” she said, laughing.

“Close enough. Now show me the doorway to a thousand churches.”

“Do you have the church key?”

“That I do!”

“Fine, but only because you’re such a fool.”

“If that’s what it takes to have your ass, then I’ll be the court jester!”

“Hurry up and use your bauble and jingle your bells,” she said, rolling on her tum and spreading her ass cheeks for me.

I slid right in and she repeated, “I want you to gift me.”

“Give you away, like a father giving away his daughter, the bride.”

“Oh my God, that would be even better.”

“What would?”

“If I wore a white wedding gown.”

“Maybe I could give you away in a church. We’d call it Christmas charity.”

“FUCK!!! I’m cumming. . . in my ass!”

Unlike her pussy, which squeezes me out when she squirts, her ass clenches, but just enough to make it feel even better, but not evict me. She sprayed the newly replaced sheets beneath her as I ejaculated deep in her orifice.

I slid out of her slowly, taking my sweet time.

She was lying in her own puddle, panting.

“Are you going to clean me off or. . .”

“Come here,” she said, not moving.

I put my cock in front of her open mouth. She took it in and sucked it clean.

“That’s my good girl.”

She smiled.

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

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