Winning an Award for Erotic Literature

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We walked in silence for a bit, both of us thinking things over and perhaps wondering about what Lo and Erin were up to when he asked the question I am most frequently asked: “Is that what Lo is really like — the way you write her on the blog?”

I explained that the stories are true, I just take liberty with some of the facts and chronology in order to tell a good story and keep our identities and locations under wraps.

“I mean, she’s truly amazing,” he said.

“She is, but she’s a handful. Tell me about Erin. Was this her idea?”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Like she was saying, she likes to watch porn and when she does, she only watches lesbian porn. This has been something she’s wanted to do for a long time now.”

“And you’re not worried that. . . that she might like women better?”

“No. Not at all,” he said very confidently.

“So, whose libido is higher, do you think, hers or yours?”

“I’d have to say mine. I mean, I want it more often. I told Lo, I can cum six times in one night.”

“Well, she’ll test the veracity of that statement. I guarantee it.”

“I hope I get the chance.”

“Well, Lo has never been able to find a man who could keep up with her.”

“Erin has a very high libido, but, like I said, just not quite my equal. She’ll often give me a hand job just to keep me happy. Don’t get me wrong though, she likes doing that for me. She’s just not always up for sex when I am.”

“And you think she’s into Lo?”

“I know she is. This summer has been difficult because Erin’s only been working part time and I’ve been working full time: nine-to-five in an office cubicle. I can’t tell you how many times Erin would call me or text me when I was at work and she’d tell me that she was at home reading your blog and jillin’ it. She’d tell me to just leave work and come home and do her.”

That sounded like a familiar refrain.

“Of course,” he went on, “I couldn’t. But the thought of her lying in bed with her computer open to your blog, looking at Lo’s pics and masturbating was torture for me when I was at work.”

I cannot express to you, my dear reader, how gratifying that disclosure on his part was. To know, first hand, that there was a woman out there who read my words and saw Lo’s pictures and that they frequently got her off was for me the equivalent of winning the Nobel Prize for Literature.

[Excerpt from the story, “Sexplorations,” from the blog:]

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