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It was Saturday morning and the sun had been up for a few hours, casting brilliant yellow light down through the beautiful pied canopy of leaves, illuminating them like the colors of a cathedral’s stained glass windows. The light, the quiet, the stillness of it all sanctified the moment.

I took a long sip of my hot coffee and soaked in the tranquility outside my living room windows and thought. . . “FUCK! FUCK! OH MY GOD! FUUUUUUUUCK!!!” No, that’s not what I thought. That’s what Lo was screaming from the bedroom as she fucked herself.

“Well, Lo’s awake,” I thought, interrupting whatever sublime idea I was pondering the moment prior.

I gave her some time before sauntering to the bedroom to pay her a visit. I cracked open the door and found her splayed out on the bed, naked, Hitachi in one hand, dildo in the other, like a warrior princess armed for battle.

“Everything alright in here?” I asked.

She was out of breath. “Can you pass me a towel?”

“When are you going to put the mattress protector you bought on here?” I asked, frustrated, as I grabbed a towel for her.

“Today, Daddy. Promise.”

“Good, because I’m sick and tired of the laundry being full of towels.”

“I’m sorry, Daddio, but it’s not my fault.”

“Come again?”

“Oh, I plan to.”

“No, I mean, how is it not your fault?”

“It’s their fault,” she said, pointing at the ceiling. “They were fucking up there like Sex-du-Soleil!”


“And they woke me up. I was so angry. I tried going back to sleep, but they were so loud that I couldn’t help but hear the bang-bang-bang and the oh-oh-oh.”


“And it got me horny,” she said bashfully.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Well, they probably got scared by the sounds of me.”

“If I were upstairs, I’d think that an exorcism was going on down here and it would scare me too.”

“It was a sort of exorcism. I got that last big O out.”

“That last?”

“Yeah, I had two smaller ones before that one.”

“I suppose you’re hungry now.”

“Mmmmm, famished. Pull that cock out and feed me.”

“I meant, for breakfast.”

“That’s what I meant too.”

“I mean at the breakfast table.”

“We could do it there. That’s always fun!”

“Oh, you’re incorrigible. Let me know if you want some eggs and toast,” I said as I walked away.

“Daddioooooo,” she called to my back.

Just as I was sitting down to eat my perfectly cooked breakfast, she strutted her naked stuff in and sat across from me.

“Hello again.”

She reached her hand out like a paw and opened her mouth to beg. I put some food in her mouth.

“Yep,” I said, “Your spirit animal is a dog.”

“And yours is a cat,” she said.

“My spirit animal isn’t a cat, it’s more like a panther or a mountain lion. I’m undomesticated.”

“Ha!” she laughed. “If anything your spirit animal is Garfield. You are perfectly content with your lasagna and sleep and you’re a grumpy, pompous ass.”

“Don’t forget cookies,” I said as I bussed my table and went to the kitchen to put the dishes in the sink. She followed me, close at my heels.

“Dogs chase cats,” she said — “WOOF!”

She pulled me to the bedroom.

She got down on her knees and unzipped my fly, reached in my pants, and pulled out my meat. She took it in her mouth and worshiped it with enthusiasm. I held her head in place until the very last moment when I pulled back, grabbed my cock and baptized her mane with my holy water.

“What the fuck?! My hair?!” she yelled at me.

“I didn’t know it was off-limits.”

“Grrrrrr!” she said as she stood up. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly she can alternate between randy and angry.

“Go!” she commanded.

“Go where?”

“We’re out of bread and I want toast after my shower.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

I left and while I was strolling up and down the aisles, trying to make the most of my morning trip, I got a text from Lo, “Hurry! The bed’s-a-rockin’ upstairs again.”

When I returned, loaf in hand, I found Lo lying tum down on the bed, naked, feet dangling in the air, one hand holding the phone to her ear and the other between her legs. She was speaking indecencies to a “gentleman caller.” She saw me walk in and continued in her sensuous voice to her phone fan. I dropped my bags, fell to my knees, and slid my tongue up on her perineum. She fingered herself faster. I twisted and curled my tongue as she began to climax and tell her phone companion about it. Soon she was cumming and I could hear the guy on the other end of the line cumming too.

[Excerpt from the story, “Couples Counseling,” from the blog:]

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

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