Living With Lo
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.
“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.
“I’m afraid to show you.”
“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.”
“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.
“I want to see those fellas who want me while you fuck me.”
[Excerpt from the story, “She Is My Slut (And I Love Her),” from the blog: mysexlifewithlola.com]