polosatai
02-15-2010, 12:33 AM
The Wifes's Doggy Position
By David Crane
Chapter 1
"My husband caught me fucking a dog."
Molly's mouth dropped open in amazement when Carla said
that and, having said it, Carla blushed. Carla had recently
been divorced, and Molly had asked her why her marriage had
come unstuck. Molly was truly shocked by the woman's answer,
and Carla was surprised at herself for having said it.
The two young women were having a drink at a table in a
cocktail lounge. Just as Carla made her admission, the
jukebox stopped playing, and there was a dead silence. It
seemed as if everyone in the room must have heard her
remarkable statement. For a long moment, the two girls just
stared at each other. But no one else had turned to gape at
them and, a moment later, another loud tune started to blare
from the jukebox.
"I guess I shouldn't have told you that," Carla said.
"I . . . no, I'm not . . . well, I mean . . . Molly
stammered, not knowing how to respond.
Carla gave a little shrug. "Well, it's true."
"Really? A dog?"
"Yeah. A collie. It wasn't our dog, actually. We didn't
own a dog. It belonged to the neighbors. But it used to come
into our backyard sometimes and . . . well, I got carried
away. I don't suppose that you've ever fucked a dog?"
Molly shook her head.
Carla continued: "Anyhow, I wanted that dog! I called
him into the house one day, and played with his prick for
awhile. Then, after he was nice and big and hard, I got down
on my hands and knees . . . doggy style, you know?" She
grinned impishly. "The brute fucked my ass off. After that,
he used to come over all the time, whining and scratching at
the door. You know how dogs are. If there's some pussy going,
they can't get enough of it. So I used to get fucked by this
collie two or three times a week. It was nice. But one day,
Carl came home unexpectedly and found the dog stuck up me. It
was embarrassing, to say the least. And the dog was into the
finishing strokes, too, so he couldn't stop and I couldn't
stop him. So we just kept right on fucking, with my husband
standing there with his mouth hanging open and his eyes
popping out like a pair of hard boiled eggs. Then the dog
shot his load in me. Carl had a big hard-on, himself, by that
time. I tried to apologize. I even tried to claim that the
dog had raped me. But Carl wouldn't believe that. He took me
to bed and fucked my ass off. . . then he told me he wanted
a divorce. Well, I couldn't very well contest it, could I? I
mean, how would I have felt, in court, when a fucking dog was
cited as the co-respondent?" Carla giggled. "Imagine a collie
taking the witness stand? The lawyer would say: 'And did you
have carnal knowledge of the accused?' And the fucking dumb
dog would say: 'Woof!' So Carl got his divorce. Actually, it
didn't bother me very much. I was getting kind of sick of
Carl, anyhow . . . and the dog was a better fuck, besides."
Molly was astounded.
Her teeth clicked against the rim of her glass as she
took a sip of her gin and tonic. How could a woman fuck an
animal? How could a woman admit she'd fucked an animal? She
didn't know Carla very well. They were just casual
acquaintances, and it was hardly the sort of thing you told
to just anybody. Still, maybe it was easier to tell it to a
relative stranger than to a close friend. It wasn't the sort
of thing that you told, say, to your sister. As well as being
shocked and surprised, Molly found herself intrigued.
"What . . . what is it like, doing it with a dog?" she
asked.
"Oh, it's real good. Dogs have more energy than most
men. They really pour the prick to you. And they love it!
It's psychological, I guess, but I just love it when a dog
whimpers and whines while he's fucking me, and I know how
much he's enjoying it. I like the way a dog hangs on, you
know? They cling to your ass like a gargoyle on a cathedral
wall. And all the while, that big prick is going in and out
like a piston, and the dog is panting in your ear and . . .
well, it's just a great fuck is all."
Molly had a sudden, graphic mental image of that scene,
of Carla on her hands and knees with the big collie mounted
on her, enthusiastically driving his huge prick into her
cunt. That image brought a wave of heat to Molly's pussy.
Molly had never even thought about making it with an animal,
herself, and whatever ideas she had held about bestiality had
not been favorable. It was disgusting, she'd thought. But now
that her friend had admitted to practicing that perversion,
Molly saw it in a different light. She found herself
intrigued and fascinated. She no longer thought of it as
disgusting. It was wicked and perverted, true, but it seemed
all the more exciting because of that taint of sin.
She wanted to hear more about it.
Carla was saying: "Then, too, with a dog, you don't have
to worry about emotional entanglements. I mean, a woman can
fuck dogs just for the physical pleasure of it. You don't
have to fall in love with the dumb brutes. I don't know why
my husband was so furious when he caught me, really. It
wasn't as if I was cheating on him with another guy, or
having a love affair or anything. Getting fucked by a dog is
sort of like using a rubber prick on yourself . . . except
lots better."
She shrugged and took a drink.
Molly said: "You sound as if . . . well, as if you've
had more than the one dog, huh?"
"Yeah, I've made it with a few."
"How on earth did you ever start? I mean, I can
understand why you like it . . . in a way. . . but how about
the first time, before you knew that you'd enjoy it. Weren't
you sort of nervous? Inhibited?"
Carla started to reply. The jukebox stopped playing
again, and she waited, not wanting to be overheard. The two
girls were the only women in the place, and several gentlemen
were watching them, obviously wondering if they were there to
get picked up, having a few more drinks to gather their
courage before making an attempt.
Both women were desirable, in contrasting ways.
Molly was blonde, her hair cut short and curly. She had
wide-set blue eyes and a full, sensual mouth. Her tits were
firm and thrusting, capped by large, stiff nipples, and her
ass was shaped like a teardrop, sweeping out from her narrow
waist, then cutting in to the backs of her long, shapely
legs. Those legs seemed to have been designed for the purpose
of being hooked around a man's hips while her spectacular ass
churned him to jelly. She was twenty-one years old and had
been married for just over a year. Despite her sexy looks,
and the fact that she was a horny young lady, she was not
promiscuous. Molly had only been to bed with four men,
including her husband, and she had been faithful to him since
they were married.
Carla was a different physical type, but equally
attractive. She had raven-black hair which she wore long and
straight, with a fringe across her forehead. Her eyes were
green and her cheekbones high, giving her a rather exotic
look. Her body was thinner than Molly's, not as curvy, but
taut, lean and dynamic. Her tits were not large, but her
nipples were like little rockets ready to be launched. She
had slim, dancer's legs, rippling with sinew, and a high,
round ass.
Whereas men thought of Molly as being comfortable in
bed, they usually thought of Carla as the sort of energetic
fuck that would waste a fellow very pleasantly, but demanding
stamina. They thought of Carla getting on top and riding
them, of throwing her into wild, new positions, of running
the gamut of sexual positions, and then inventing new ones.
Carla was twenty-three. Her marriage had lasted for two
years, before that fateful day when her husband found her
with the collie. She had more sexual experience than Molly .
. . a whole lot more.
Now, as the jukebox bellowed out a tune again, she began
to tell Molly about some of that experience.
"When I was a teenager, my parents sent me to visit some
relatives who lived on a farm,'' she said. "I didn't want to
go. I figured it would be boring in the country. I had a few
boyfriends and, well, I was still a virgin, but only just.
I'd been doing just about everything a girl can do, short of
getting fucked, and I hated the thought of being trapped on
some damned farm. But they were determined that I went. I
think they wanted to have a little vacation away from me.
Anyhow, I went, and it wasn't boring at all."
Carla paused, frowning slightly, as if trying to recall
the sequence of events, or possibly wondering just how much
of it she should reveal to her friend.
Molly was hanging onto every word.
Not experienced, herself, she took a delight in hearing
about the other girl's misconduct.
"I had to share a bed with my cousin, Laura," Carla went
on. "Laura was the same age as me, but she had lots bigger
tits. A real country type, with straw-colored hair that she
wore in a pigtail . . . a bouncy, bulging sort of girl. She
looked a lot like you, actually, but in a more rustic way,
you know... like you would look if you had grown up on a
farm. I liked her straight off. Well, that first night, after
we had gotten into bed together, we started talking about sex
and things. Laura told me that she wasn't a virgin; she'd
been fucking some of the local boys. So I told her about my
boyfriends, and the heavy petting and stuff. I admitted that
I hadn't wanted to come to the farm, that I thought I'd be
bored, and she said that we could have lots of fun. I wasn't
sure what she meant, at first. Then she started playing with
my tits."
Molly was wide-eyed.
"Did you . . . did you let her?" she asked.
"Well, sure . . . I mean, it was her bed, after all,"
said Carla, with a naughty grin.
"Gee," Molly said, leaning closer, eager to hear more
about this encounter. This, like bestiality, was new to the
blonde girl. She had wondered what it would be like to make
love with another woman, but it had just been curiosity. She
had never expected to find out. Molly believed that only
lesbians did things like that. But she knew damned well that
Carla was not a lesbian, and now she clung to the dark girl's
words with interest.
"It felt nice," Carla went on. "As nice as when a boy
felt me up. My nipples got all stiff and tingling. After
awhile, I began to play with Laura's tits, too. I'd never
done that before, but I enjoyed it right away. We felt each
other up for quite awhile, both of us getting turned on by
it. We rubbed our tits together. We were both giggling, not
because it was funny, but just to convince ourselves that we
were only fooling around, being naughty. Then Laura suggested
that we pretend that we were fucking. She'd be the boy, she
said. She got on top of me and I wrapped my legs around her
hips, then Laura humped up and down, rubbing her cunt on
mine. We did that for awhile, then I got on top and pretended
I was fucking her. Both of us were getting hotter all the
time. Pretty soon we started fingerfucking each other. I
wanted to come, and I wanted to make Laura come, too. But
every time I was starting to reach the peak, she'd s top for
a few moments, teasing me. She had me panting like a chased
fox. I was ready for anything by that time . . . and I guess
that's what Laura intended.
Carla paused to sip her drink.
Molly waited impatiently.
"So then she said: 'Want to do something really
naughty?' I had an idea what she meant, but I pretended that
I didn't. 'What?' I asked her. And she said we could sixty-
nine. Well, I thought about it . . . but not for long,
because I was just too damned hot. Then I said okay, and that
was that. Laura got on top of me, sat on my face and buried
her face in my cunt, then we sucked each other off."
Molly's mouth was hanging open in amazement.
She could not believe that her friend had had a lesbian
experience, and that Carla was admitting it so freely. But
she found the idea tremendously stimulating.
"Did . . . did you enjoy it?" she whispered.
"Oh, sure. You got to understand, Molly, neither of us
were lesbians. We were just doing it for kicks. But it was
fun, too. I mean, it's always lovely to get sucked off, by a
man or a woman, and even if I hadn't enjoyed sucking Laura's
cunt, I would have been willing to do it in return for her
doing me. But the thing is, I did enjoy it. Eating her pussy
was almost as much fun as having her eat me. We both came a
couple times. I got on top for awhile. Then we went to sleep
. . and in the morning we ate each other out again.
"Gee," Molly whispered.
"Well, that's what happened the first night. I figured
that was what Laura meant when she said we could have lots of
fun together . . . and it had been fun, too. But the
cuntsucking had just been for starters. The next day, I got
fucked by a sheep dog."
"Oooooh," Molly breathed.
"Laura had been getting it on with the dog for some
time. She told me she'd screwed the dog before she ever got
fucked by a guy. So she asked me if I wanted to try it or
not. It seemed awful naughty, but that only made it exciting,
too. Anyhow, I sort of hemmed and hawed, and Laura could see
I was kind of inhibited, so she suggested that I watch the
dog fuck her, just to see how much fun it was. And that's
what happened. We went out to the woods with the dog bounding
along beside us, happy as could be. He knew damned well what
was going to happen. He was a black and white sheep dog, long
-haired. Had a nice prick, too. Laura played with his cock
until it was stiff, then she knelt down and the dog mounted
her and gave her a real good fucking. It made me so damned
hot, I wished that it was me that was getting it. But it was
okay. He was good for more than one go, and after he'd fucked
my cousin, she got him hard again for me. So that was how I
started fucking dogs. Laura and I used to take the dog out
to the woods almost every day, and he'd fuck both of us. And
at night, we'd suck each other off. Believe me, there was
nothing boring about staying at that farm!"
"Have you had . . . lots of dogs since?"
"A few, like I told you. After I got married, I stopped
fooling around that way for awhile. But then the neighbor's
collie came over and . . . well, I told you about that,
already."
Molly was blushing a pretty pink, and she lowered her
eyes demurely before she asked the next question.
"How about girls?" she asked. "I mean, have you ever
gone to bed with a girl other than your cousin?"
Carla gave Molly a speculative look before she replied.
That look made Molly blush more.
"A couple times," said Carla.
Molly would have liked to ask more about that, but she
felt ashamed of her interest. The blonde didn't want Carla to
think that she was hinting that she might be willing to try
it, herself. And yet she couldn't help but think about it and
wonder. The idea of sucking a cunt was awfully stimulating.
Did she hope that Carla might suggest that they do it
together? She honestly wasn't sure, nor did she know how she
would reply to such a suggestion. If she were actually going
to do a thing like that, she thought that it might be better
to do it with some girl she didn't know and was not likely to
see again, in case she felt really ashamed for having done
it. And if those thoughts were a turn-on, the idea of making
it with an animal was even more so. Molly's pussy was
starting to smolder.
Carla was about to speak.
But then a man came over to the table.
He asked Carla if she would like to dance. She
hesitated, then said yes, giving Molly a wink. A slow tune
was playing. They danced tight together, and Molly saw that
Carla was grinding her belly against her partner's groin as
they moved. When the dance ended, the man sat down at their
table with them.
Molly could see that Carla was going to get picked up.
There were plenty of other available men in the lounge,
some of them eying Molly. The girl figured that this was a
dangerous situation. She was not promiscuous but, at the
moment, her pussy was on fire, inspired by Carla's
confessions. The thought of letting some handsome stranger
pick her up was becoming attractive. Molly struggled against
the urge. She thought of being taken to some motel and
getting thoroughly fucked by a man she had just met.
No! She mustn't do a thing like that.
She told Carla that she had to be going.
Carla gave her a knowing smile. Molly finished her drink
and left. When she glanced back from the door, Carla and the
man were in deep conversation, and he had a hand on her knee.
Molly felt envious. She almost wished that she were not such
a faithful wife, that she were more like naughty Carla.
She drove home.
Her husband, Jake, would not be home from work for
several hours. Molly wandered around the house, feeling dazed
by her carnal need. She wished that Jake would come home
early. She just had to get fucked soon. The blonde felt so
hot that she thought her pussy might suddenly ignite,
bursting into flames. When she moved, it squished juicily
between her thighs. After awhile, she decided to give herself
a handjob.
The thought embarrassed her.
Molly didn't think that it was the sort of thing a
happily married woman should do. But she had no choice,
really. She didn't think she had ever been so horny before,
even in her virgin days when some boy felt her up and she'd
pant and moan, and her clit would go off like a stick of
dynamite.
Molly went up to the bedroom, took all of her clothing
off and lay down on the bed. She began kneading her tits,
pulling at the taut tips. She slipped a hand down between her
legs, shuddering at the first touch. Her fingers traced along
her open cuntlips and across her clit. Tilting her wrist, she
slowly pushed two fingers up into her creamy pussy.
She tried to pretend that her fingers were her husband's
prick. It didn't seem quite as bad to be fingerfucking
herself when she thought about Jake. But it wasn't as
thrilling, either. Molly's mind began to jump around in wild
fantasy. She pretended that it was Carla's hand between her
legs, then that it was her own hand between Carla's legs. She
whimpered and moaned at the idea.
Molly brought her hand up to her mouth and lapped hot
cuntjuice from her fingers, wanting to see what the stuff
tasted like. It was delicious! If cuntjuice was that good,
even by hand, just imagine how great it would taste if she
were sucking it right out of Carla's soaking snatch! She
began alternating hands, fingerfucking herself with one while
she lapped her juices from the other. The thrill was building
up, waves of sensation racing across her belly and running in
electric currents u p her trembling thighs.
And as the thrill built towards the peak, Molly could
not control her erotic imagination.
She thought about getting fucked by a dog.
Then her cunt melted in an orgasm.
Afterwards, she felt deeply ashamed of herself for
having had such perverted fantasies. But still, it was only
in the mind, she reasoned. She would never, ever, really fuck
an animal.
Would she?
Chapter 2
Molly felt a bit better after masturbating . . . but not
much. She had been too hot to be satisfied with a mere
handjob. Still, her orgasm had taken some of the pressure
off, and now she would be able to wait until her husband got
home from work. She sure hoped that he w as in the mood for
it. He was a good lover, thoughtful and attentive. She had
always been rather shy about making love, until they got
started, and now the blonde smiled wryly as she thought about
how surprised Jake was going to be when he came home and
found her eager for sex.
She was thinking that maybe she would ask him to put it
to her from the back, doggy style.
She didn't bother to get dressed again, but put a
bathrobe on and went downstairs to make a pot of coffee.
Then fate took a hand.
Molly was standing at the sink, filling the kettle, when
she heard a furious barking and yelping from the backyard.
She looked out the window and was surprised to see a small
mongrel dog dashing across the yard, tail between its legs,
looking frightened. A moment later, two other dogs came
bounding into sight in determined pursuit of the mongrel. One
was a black Doberman, the other a boxer. Molly realized that
the small mongrel must be a bitch in heat. She couldn't blame
the small bitch for being terrified of those two big animals
chasing her. The Doberman was in the lead, and it looked as
if he was going to catch the bitch. But then the female was
across the yard, and she had darted under the lower rail of
the fence.
The pursuers were both much too large to fit under the
fence. They stopped, whining in frustration, running up and
down the fence looking for a way through, while the bitch
scampered off.
Molly saw that both dogs had hard-ons.
She felt sorry for them. Their whining was pitiful,
their frustration obvious.
And both of them had big pricks.
Molly blushed as she realized where her thoughts were
leading.
Oh, no, she told herself, and she turned away from the
window . . . then turned right back again. Not having hands,
the poor dogs had no way of relieving their frustrations.
They would have to suffer until their erections went away in
the course of time.
Unless . . ."
Molly felt herself trembling all over.
I could throw a bucket of cold water on them, she
thought.
Molly was wondering if she should do those dogs a favor.
She had no intention of fucking them-she still thought of
that as no more than a wild fantasy-but she thought that it
would do no harm if she were to jack them off. The poor
brutes needed to come so badly that it would be an act of
mercy, an act of charity, she reasoned. It wouldn't be as if
she were having sex with them, nothing like that, she would
just be relieving the poor, dumb brutes out of kindness to
animals.
And the thought of having those fat canine cocks in her
hand was sort of exciting, too.
She had to admit that she would probably enjoy doing it
. . . especially when they started to whimper and whine and
hump, then squirted their hot jism all over the place!
Molly felt a hot flush of dark desire.
She looked at her watch. There was plenty of time to do
it before her husband got home, she decided. As horny as the
dogs were, she didn't think it would take long to milk them
off. Just a few quick strokes, and they'd be shooting off
like fire hoses.
Molly had actually convinced herself that she was going
to do it out of kindness, rather than lust.
She went to the kitchen door and opened it.
The two dogs were still trotting up and down along the
barrier of the fence, both beasts whimpering and rumbling.
Their tails were standing out stiff, their movements were
disjointed and awkward. Holly gazed at their big, swollen
pricks.
Oh! I am terrible, she thought.
Molly knew that she was going to get hornier than ever
while she jacked the brutes off.
Her husband was going to be in for a surprise, she
figured.
Then she called to the dogs.
Neither dog responded, at first, because they were still
concerned with the mongrel bitch. But after awhile, seeing
that pursuit was hopeless, the Doberman cocked an ear. When
Molly called again, he began to trot over to the house.
The boxer followed.
Molly held the kitchen door open, and both dogs entered
without hesitation. Molly stroked the Doberman behind the
ear, then petted the boxer. Both dogs sniffed at her in a
faintly puzzled why. They sensed that something unusual was
afoot, that this woman was like a bitch in heat, herself. But
neither of the brutes had ever had such a relationship with a
woman before, and now they whined nervously, not
understanding the situation.
Molly walked into the front room.
The dogs trotted in after her.
Now that she had them in the house, Molly hesitated, her
inhibitions rising again, not at all sure that she should do
a thing like this. But the poor brutes really did need
relief. She kept telling herself that, excusing her act even
before she had done it.
She got down on the floor.
The dogs stood on either side of her, heads cocked,
tongues lolling out over their panting jaws. Molly began to
stroke the black Doberman's flank. She looked at his prick as
she did. The blonde had never really taken much notice of a
dog's cock before. The meaty slab of his cockhead was flaring
out from the hairy sheath, a wedge of red heat that was
throbbing and pulsating. His long prickshaft was taut, and
his balls were swollen with his urgent load.
She glanced at the boxer.
His cock was even larger than the Doberman's and his
knob was a darker shade of purple.
Molly wondered if she should jack them off one at a
time, or use both hands and do them at the same time? How
far would they shoot? Should she get a tissue paper to catch
their cum, or just let it fly out, and mop it up afterwards?
She was trying to think clinically about it, but her lust
kept getting in the way of such thoughts. She was thinking
that it might be very exciting to let the brutes spill their
cum onto her body! She liked the idea of having hot jism
splash on her tits and belly . . . maybe even to spread her
legs and let them shoot a load on her hot cunt!
The blonde opened her robe. Then she slipped it right
off, not wanting to get cum stains on it. The dogs regarded
her curiously, sniffing at the distinctive scent of hot
pussy.
Reaching down, Molly touched the Doberman's prick,
holding it in her upturned palm as if weighing it. The
feeling of that fat cock throbbing in her hand was wildly
exciting.
The Doberman whimpered and twitched.
She slid her hand down to cup his bloated balls.
Then she fingered the slippery, rubbery knob.
Turning, she felt the boxer's prick, in turn.
Both of their cockheads had started to bubble with foamy
precum. The sight of that quicksilvery fluid oozing out was
driving Molly crazy, and her cunt was flooding, streamers of
pussy juice running down her crotch and seeping into the
crack of her taut ass. She drew her knees up and parted her
thighs. Taking the Doberman's cock in her hand, she closed
her fist around the root and began to jack up and down,
slowly and gingerly. The blonde was aiming his cockhead at
her groin. She began to rub her cunt with her free hand, but
just lightly, not trying to make herself come yet. She
wanted to save that until she felt the dog's hot jism splash
on her. Then she would finger her clit and bring herself to
an orgasm with dog cum dripping from her fuckslot.
Her fist skimmed down.
As she pulled the sheath back, the brute's cockhead
flared out in a wide wedge, and more cum oozed from the
parted cleft. She stroked back up and the hairy sheath curled
up at the edge of his knob, Molly was leaning forward, her
face right in front of his prick as she gazed in total
fascination at the dog's big cockhead.
Then the boxer pushed his blunt muzzle into Molly's
steamy crotch, and he took a lick.
Molly shuddered.
His nose was cold, his tongue was hot, and it felt very,
very nice to have him rooting around in her throbbing cunt
like a pig nosing for corn in a trough.
After all, she was doing the two dogs a favor. Why
shouldn't she let them return the favor and get some
pleasure, herself? Letting a dog lap her pussy wasn't really
so very bad, she told herself. Dogs are always giving people
a lick. It didn't matter what part of her body that tongue
was applied to. It wasn't as if she were actually having sex
with the dumb brutes.
She spread her cuntlips open.
The boxer's nimble tongue slurped up her foaming
fuckslot.
Molly had been ignoring the Doberman as she concentrated
on this new pleasure. Her fist was still folded around his
stout rod but her strokes had faltered and become erratic.
The Doberman whined, and his hindquarters pumped as he fucked
through her fist. Molly began to stroke him again, faster
now, eager to jack the juices from his cock and balls. She
adored the way his prickshaft expanded in her hand his knob
flared out, the cleft open and dripping. She gazed at his
meaty cock. It spread out like the head of a hooded cobra
about to strike.
Suddenly, the Doberman gave a long, low wine, and his
whole muscular body began to vibrate.
Molly gasped as she felt the cum run up his cockshaft.
Then the creamy stuff was shooting out from his
prickhead in great spurts, coming out as if from a high
pressure hose. Molly wailed with pure lust. Jism splattered
on her plump tits and splashed on her heaving belly. She
watched it jet from his knob in fascination. Load after load
shot out. His balls seemed bottomless. The hot slime was
pouring down the slopes of her tits, running into her deep
cleavage, dripping from her stiff nipples. A glob of the
stuff pooled in her belly button. A slippery trail trickled
down into her golden pubic bush. She kept pumping, and the
dog kept coming. A dose splattered in the hollow of her
throat. Then the fierce initial pressure was reduced. The
brute was still shooting, but his cum wasn't jetting straight
out now, it was looping out and down, falling onto her hot
thighs. Her whole sleek torso was coated with the stuff,
awash with canine cum.
Finally, he stopped shooting.
She continued to stroke him for a few moments, to make
sure that she had milked out every drop.
She felt his prick soften and diminish in her fist.
But it didn't collapse completely.
His cock was still throbbing and the swollen knob still
flared. Molly realized that the potent Doberman was going to
need more than one climax before he was satisfied. The idea
did not trouble her at all. She was more than willing to jack
him off again.
But there was still the boxer to be dealt with.
That handsome beast was still lapping away on her cunt,
his hot breath billowing up her fuckslot, his tongue steaming
as it slurped up cuntjuice with ravenous gusto. Some of the
Doberman's cum h ad trickled down into her pussy. The boxer
lapped that up, too.
Molly released the hound's cock.
The animal stepped back, stiff-legged. He seemed to be
grinning. His prick swayed up and down under his belly, the
knob still flaring out from the sheath, not getting any
softer, looking like it was going to get iron-hard again at
any moment. But the brute seemed to realize that it was the
boxer's turn for some action now, and he stood back, waiting.
He was beginning to sense that human females were a lot
nicer than bitches. They didn't escape under fences, for one
thing.
He wondered what a human cunt was like.
He waited hopefully.
Molly turned her attentions on the boxer.
Chapter 3
Reaching under the boxer, Molly got a handful of his
prick and began to stroke the fat rod. The dog's head was
still lowered against her crotch, tonguing away. It felt
wonderful, and she hated to make him stop. But in that
position, she couldn't see his cock very well, and she
couldn't aim his jism at her body. It had been a tremendous
thrill to have the Doberman shoot on her belly and tits, and
she wanted the boxer to spill his cum on her too. She figured
that there would be time enough, afterward, to have one of
the willing dogs give her pussy a thorough lapping, and to
get her rocks off on a tongue. For the moment, the lust-
crazed woman was more interested in making the boxer come
than she was in coming, herself.
Molly pushed his head out of her soaking crotch.
The dog looked up, his jaws dripping with cuntjuice,
puzzled that she had stopped him. But then her hand slid
slowly up his prick. He gave a whimper and stood up on braced
feet, quivering all over, realizing that he was being petted
in the best possible place, one of those strange and
mysterious pleasures that only creatures with hands could
perform. Not knowing anything about human psychology, the
boxer couldn't see what pleasure the woman got out of doing
it with her hand, but he was certainly not going to bark
about it.
Molly began stroking his steadily.
The blonde leaned closer, her lust-contorted face right
in front of his big, bloated cockhead. She stroked him with
one hand and fingered his flaring knob with the other. She
was eager to see him shoot. Her tits and belly were already
awash with dog cum. She wondered if she should aim the
boxer's prick right in her face, and let him blow his wad
there. It seemed naughtier than jerking him off on her tits
and belly, somehow, but the thought of having a load of
steaming dog jism hose her face was really exciting.
Molly thought that she might even open her mouth a
little.
Maybe she would pull him off with her lips! Maybe she
would ever stick her tongue out when the dog came!
She sometimes did that with her husband.
She liked to suck Jake off, and he loved to have her do
it. But once in awhile, instead of taking his prick in her
mouth and milking it, she would give him a handjob, with her
mouth open and her tongue pressed out right above his
cockhead. When he came, they could both see his creamy cum
fly into her mouth. It always turned both of them on
tremendously. And the thought of having an animal do that
gave the horny girl a thrill that shattered her inhibitions
like a high note breaking crystal. Was it any more wicked to
have a dog come on her lips and tongue than to jack him off
on her tits? Well, it seemed worse, but the urge was all the
more compelling because of that, the charm of such depravity
was melting her with lust.
Hardly aware of what she was doing, Molly had moved her
face closer to his cockhead and parted her lips.
The swollen slab of his hot cockmeat looked inviting.
What did a dog's prick taste like?
No, she thought. No, that would be going too far!
Jerking a dog off was just harmless pleasure, but actually
taking his prick into her mouth would be really an act of
depravity. How could she ever face her husband again, after
she'd had a mouthful of dog prick? How could she ever let
Jake kiss her? How could she even look at herself in the
mirror, knowing her mouth had been on a canine cock?
Yet she was drooling for it.
His prick looked so succulent. His pricktip was already
bubbling with pre-cum, all milky and foaming. A dark urge
swept through the girl, the thrill rushing through her mind
as much as her cunt, and her tongue felt as hot as her clit,
as if she could have an orgasm in her mouth. Maybe if she
just gave that sweet-looking cockhead a lick? Just a solitary
lick? She intended to jack him off in her face, anyhow. Her
lips would be parted, and some of that hot jism was going to
get on her tongue when he shot, anyhow, so it couldn't be any
worse to lick a few drops off his prickmeat, could it? She
could satisfy her curiosity . . it wouldn't be as if she had
actually taken his cock into her mouth and given him a
blowjob. She wouldn't swallow it.
And no one would ever know!
Well, the black Doberman would know, but there was no
way that either of the dogs could ever tell anyone! That was
one of the benefits of fooling around with dumb animals,
Molly realized. No matter how carried away a girl got, no
matter what she did, it would remain a secret between she and
the animal. Unless . . . did dogs communicate? Would she
find a whole pack of frenzied canines howling for blowjobs at
her back door once the word was out? Yet, so hot was the
woman, that even that idea was thrilling to her, The thought
of a pack of horny dogs inspirational. She gave the boxer's
cock another long, slow stroke.
The knob flared and bubbled.
Unable to resist the unholy impulse, Molly pushed her
tongue out, and she gave the dripping tip of the boxer's cock
a lick, lightly, uncertainly. She drew back, amazed at
herself. Cum tingled on her tastebuds. The stuff was
delicious!
She lapped his foaming knob again.
More jism poured onto her hot tongue. She let it run
around in her mouth, then seep down her throat, warming her
belly like fine brandy. Molly gave a little moan of pure,
unadulterated lust. She began to lap the dog's hot cockhead
with long, slurping strokes, her nimble tongue curling and
coiling over the hot slab. Her fist continued to pump slowly
up and down, causing the head to flare and throb against her
flattened tongue and pursed lips.
Molly felt utterly depraved.
Even alone with the dogs, she was blushing furiously,
deeply ashamed of her behavior, yet she was unable to resist,
unable to stop. She just kept lapping away. She drew back
once or twice, making an effort to stop, to finish him off
with her hand. But then her tongue tingled, and the girl
leaned right back down to lick him some more.
The boxer and the Doberman looked at each other in
amazement.
Neither of them had ever realized that humans used their
tongues in such a delightful way. Although both of them had
licked their own pricks from time to time, it wasn't at all
the same thing, and neither of them had ever met, a bitch
willing to lap then to climax. The Doberman hoped that
the woman would not lose her appetite before she had given
his cock a nice tonguing, too, and the boxer hoped she did
not lose interest before he shot his wad.
But Molly was not about to lose interest.
The more she tongued his tasty cockhead, the more hungry
she became, the more eager for his cum.
His pre-cum was flowing freely now.
Molly was lapping up plenty of the succulent jism, and
those first trickles were playing the appetizer, making her
voraciously hungry for more of the sweet stuff. There was no
longer any doubt that she was going to let the boxer come in
her mouth. If she couldn't face herself in the mirror,
afterwards, well that was a bridge she would cross when she
came to it. At the moment, Molly cared only about the long,
fat bridge that spanned the distance between her busily
lapping tongue and the dog's swollen balls.
She kissed the tip of his cock.
Molly thought that maybe she should take his cockhead
into her mouth, after all. Since she was already licking his
prick, it couldn't be any more wicked to suck it, she
reasoned. The prospect was making her shudder and vibrate all
through her body. The boxer was whimpering and rumbling deep
in his throat, his haunches squirming, his chest heaving as
she panted with wild desire. His obvious sexual arousal was
making Molly even hornier.
The blonde fitted her pursed lips to the tip of his
cock.
She kissed the bubbling knob, then very slowly let her
lips part around it, feeding that slab of burning dog meat
into her hungry mouth inch by inch. The cockhead slipped in.
Her lips collared his prickshaft just behind the flaring
head.
She sucked softly, her cheeks hollowing in and her lips
turning out as they pulled gently on his cockmeat. Her hand
slowled, still stroking, but moving very gently now. She
nursed lovingly on his mouthful of dripping cockhead.
I'm blowing a dog, Molly thought.
I'm sucking a dog's prick . . and I'm going to keep on
sucking until he shoots in my mouth!
Molly felt absolutely wicked, delightfully wicked! The
blonde knew that she was doing an utterly depraved and
perverted thing, and it thrilled her all the more because of
that knowledge. She was yearning for the brute's climax,
eager to feel his hot jism squirt into her mouth and pour
down her throat. His prick was harder and hotter than any
human cock she had ever mouthed, and the dog's desire was
more frantic.
She certainly saw what Carla had meant about doing it
with dogs.
The girl began to jolt her head up and down, taking more
of his cock into her head, while her fist skimmed up and down
his prickshaft, fucking him into her mouth. Her hand pushed
down to his root, then slid back up and bumped gently against
her lips.
Starved for his thick load, Molly jacked him faster and
sucked for all she was worth.
Saliva coated his cockhead.
Thick ribbons of dog jism ran through the frothy saliva.
She was sucking so hard now that she seemed to be trying
to inhale his cock right down into her heaving lungs, and his
cockhead was pulsing in and out as if it were a lung, itself.
The boxer humped, fucking into her face.
Suddenly, his cum splashed in her throat.
A steaming rope of jism jetted from his knob, filling
her mouth. She gulped it down hungrily, swallowing to make
room for more. His load was too much for her, greedy as she
was. Cum overflowed her lips and ran down her chin, down his
hairy cock. She kept sucking with pure hunger, and great,
creamy ribbons of sweet cum poured over her tongue, slid
through her cheeks, washed about her teeth and gums. It was
flooding down her throat. She drank his jism joyfully,
whimpering and gasping. She was demented by desire, crazed by
carnal lust, swallowing and sucking, sucking and swallowing.
The dog's balls seemed to hold a raging river of cum, an
ocean of the molten lava of his loins. Her fist sped up and
down, milking him. Her lips pulled and dragged on his
cockhead, and her tongue fluttered wildly against the
dripping wedge of dog meat. Her throat pulsed as she gulped
the juice down greedily.
At long last, he stopped coming.
He stood there, trembling all over, stiff-legged, his
flanks heaving in and out.
Molly continued to jack and suck.
She milked every last drop out of his cock and balls,
and when she finally drew her lips away, his cockhead was
glistening, polished to a luster. A few drops had escaped her
mouth and trickled down his hairy stalk. Molly used her
soaking tongue to gather them up, not wanting to waste a
single drop.
The dog staggered as he stepped away.
Molly sat there in a daze.
What had she done? How could she have done such a thing?
It was all Carla's fault!
If that terrible girl had not gotten Molly so horny,
telling her about fucking dogs, it never would have dawned on
Molly to do such a terrible thing. Blaming Carla, she excused
herself.
She vowed that she would never do a thing again.
But even as she made that vow, the black Doberman was
advancing toward her, his prick as stiff as ever, and a
hopeful, expectant look in his big brown eyes.
"No! Go away!" she said.
The dog blinked. He looked crestfallen. The boxer seemed
to be grinning, laughing at the poor Doberman, who had only
had a handjob instead of a blowjob.
The Doberman whimpered pitifully.
It didn't seem fair that he had to do without, thought
Molly.
Molly had always been kind to animals.
The Doberman obviously expected what the boxer had had.
Molly took pity on him.
Her vow still held, however. Molly was determined that
she would never blow a dog again, after today.
After she sucked off the Doberman . . .
Chapter 4
After Molly had left the cocktail lounge, Carla had a
few more drinks with the man who'd joined her. His name, he
said, was Sam, and he was from out of town on a business
trip. He made a point of telling her that he was staying in a
hotel nearby. He obviously wanted her, and Carla made no
attempt to play hard to get. Sam was a pretty good-looking
guy and, furthermore, when he had danced with her, she had
felt his swollen prick pressing into her belly. It seemed
like a nice, big one.
Carla hadn't been fucked for some time now, by a man or
a dog, and she was in the mood for some casual sex. That was
the one drawback about no longer being married, she figured.
When she'd lived with her husband, there was always cock
available. True, he hadn't been a great lover, and she
enjoyed the variety that she had been getting as a single
girl but, still, she had to go out looking for it. Sometimes,
she just felt like staying in bed and having it supplied to
her without all the b other of finding a man. She was tempted
to buy a dog, in fact, since the collie was not always
available when she felt like getting fucked. But things
seemed to be working out well today, and she figured she
would get a nice afternoon's fucking from Sam.
When he suggested that they go back to his hotel room
for a quiet drink in privacy, Carla gave him a knowing smile.
"What kind of girl do you think I am?" she asked. Since
she had been rubbing against him in a very lewd manner on the
dance-floor, Sam thought that she was just the sort of girl
that he hoped. But when she asked him, he stammered.
"Err . . . I didn't mean . . . that is . . ."
But Carla gave him a wink.
"That's okay," she said. "I am that kind of girl."
So back to his hotel they drove.
Sam went through the motions of pouring them drinks, but
they didn't bother to drink them. He sat beside her and, soon
enough, the glasses were on the floor and they were in a
passionate embrace. His mouth ground on hers, and when her
lips parted, he pushed his tongue into her mouth. Carla
sucked on it, then twined her own tongue with it, like two
serpents mating in a moist cavern. Jabbing tongues back and
forth, they were panting into each other's mouths.
He placed a hand on her tit.
She arched, pushing her firm tit into his hand as she
squirmed against him. He felt her nipple grow rigid in his
palm.
Sam began blowing in her ear and licking her neck. He
unbuttoned her blouse, then slipped his hand inside. She wore
no bra. He began to knead and fondle her tits. Then he slid a
hand up under her skirt.
Carla's legs parted immediately.
Sam played with her pussy through the soaking crotchband
of her panties. Slipping his hand inside, he began to caress
her naked cunt, fingering her clit and rubbing her fuck slot.
Sam thought that she had the hottest, juiciest cunt he had
eve r handled. He was looking forward to shoving his cockmeat
up her smoldering hole. The man had a raging hard-on by this
time and, to his delight, Carla began to fondle his cock and
balls through his pants. Sam appreciated a woman who was
eager for it, who didn't mind taking the initiative. He would
never have married a girl like that, or anything, but he
preferred them for casual encounters when he was on the road.
His prick bucked like a bronco.
Carla began to open his fly, drawing the zipper down a
little at a time, teasingly. Then, pulling it all the way
down, she reached in to haul his prick out. She held his
fuckshaft in her fist and worked her thumb against the
sensitive point where the thick stalk flared out into the
wide knob of his cockhead. She fingered his piss slit, then
cupped his balls, squeezing gently as if to find out just how
much of a load of jism they contained. He was slipping three
fingers up her pussy. She jacked him a little.
"Let's get our clothes off," she suggested.
Without waiting for Sam to reply, Carla slid out of his
embrace and, standing in front of him, she began to take her
clothing off. Sam watched her with admiration. The brunette
disrobed like a stripper, teasing him, revealing her body a
little at a time. She was lean and trim, and her cunt was a
dark jungle divided by a sluggish river. Glistening ribbons
of cuntjuice streaked her inner thighs. She pushed her hips
out, her legs parted, thinking that Sam might like to give
her soaking puss y a little tonguing to start with. But then,
when he just gazed at it, instead of going down on her, she
shrugged and knelt in front of him. She began to undress him.
His cock towered up before her face.
She ran her tongue up his prickshaft.
Cum bubbled from his piss slit and trickled down his
cock, and she lapped it up, gathering the sticky slime on her
tongue.
But then Carla drew back and pulled his pants off, too
eager to get a cuntful to take much time licking him. She
stood up, took him by the hand, led him to the bed, then sat
down. He stood over her and she licked his cockhead a little
more, then dropped back, her knees lifted and her thighs
parted.
"Fuck me, Sam," she whispered.
His prick jolted like a recoiling cannon.
He got on the bed, kneeling between her widespread legs.
Taking his cock in hand, he guided the tip to her cunt. Carla
writhed about in happy expectation. He worked his pricktip
around in her fuck slot for a moment, stirring her with it.
Then he braced his knees, his ass whipped forward, and he
buried his big prick balls-deep up Carla's steaming pussy.
"Oh!" she gasped. "Ooooh!"
The sound was soft and drawn-out as she thrilled to the
feeling of having her hot cunt stuffed full of stiff prick.
He held the deep penetration, savoring the joy of having
every inch of his huge cock sheathed in slippery cunt. His
hands slid down, then cupped her under the ass, tilting her
pussy up as he prepared to start fucking into her. Carla had
one arm around his shoulders. Reaching down with the other,
she held his balls. Her thighs clamped around his flanks, and
her pussy muscles began to work on him, sucking and dragging
on his buried prickmeat. Sam still hadn't moved.
"Fuck," she moaned. "Fuck me!"
Carla was staring up into his face. She saw him grimace
with lust. His teeth gleamed as his lips drew back from them,
so that he seemed to be snarling like a beast. His eyes
seemed to be glazed. His breath came panting out.
Carla thought she was going to get a long, lovely fuck
out of a man who seemed so aroused.
He drew his prick slowly out until only the big, flaring
head was still in her pussy.
He paused, shuddering.
Carla waited eagerly for that furious fucking to begin,
her loins yearning for friction, her clit throbbing with the
desire to have his fat cock rub over it as it sped in and
out. He was still poised there on the first stroke. Her cunt
muscles were working like a velvet vise, clamping closed
around his cockhead.
"Fuck me!" she wailed. "Pour the prick up me, honey!
Fuck the ass off me!"
Then Sam plunged in.
He buried his cock to the root.
And shot his wad on that very first stroke!
Carla felt his hot jism rush into her cunt, and she
ground her pelvis wildly against him, adoring the sensation
of being filled with a man's jism, her pussy milking him.
But he had stopped fucking.
Sam had never started, really. He had just given her
that one fast stroke and emptied his balls.
Now, to Carla's horror, his cock was starting to soften
and diminish inside her. She made her cunt pull on it, but to
no avail. His prick got smaller and softer. It had collapsed
completely. She still had his balls in her hand and they,
too, had gone down like a punctured balloon. She gazed up at
him in surprise.
Sam looked sheepish.
"Is that it?" she asked.
"Afraid so," he mumbled.
"You're a premature ejaculator?" she asked, dismayed.
"Always have been," he admitted.
"But . . . but . . . won't it get hard again?"
"Naw . . . not for a couple days," he told her. "Sorry."
He pulled out. His prick was reduced to a mere nubbin,
retracted back into his loins, hardly a prick at all. Carla
was desperate for more action. Leaning down, she began to
suck and lick his shrunken knob of cockmeat. It was more like
sucking on a clit than a prick.
And it did no good.
Suck as she would, it refused to grow.
She raised her head and gave him an accusing look.
Sam gave a little apologetic shrug.
"Well, look, how about going down on me?" she asked.
Surely he owed her an orgasm! Surely he would be willing to
eat her out?
"Naw, I don't like to do that," he said.
Carla was trembling with anger now, as well as need.
"Well, how about finger-fucking me, at least?"
Sam grimaced.
"To tell you the truth," he said. "I lose interest in
pussy, once I get my rocks off."
"You bastard!" she cried.
Sam blinked, then shrugged again and moved off the bed.
Carla's pussy was burning. She had to get her cunt milked.
She began to play with her clit and to push three fingers up
her fuck hole. The brunette figured that it might turn Sam on
to see her doing that to herself. But Sam had obviously
spoken the truth. He looked at her for a moment, then turned
away and began to put his clothing back on.
Carla sighed with frustration.
She closed her eyes and leaned back on the bed, arching
her supple body. She began to use both hands on her pussy,
fingerfucking herself with one and rubbing her clit with the
other. Sam ignored her. After a few minutes, she began to
moan and pant, and then her cunt melted, creaming over her
hands.
But it didn't make her feel much better.
Imagine getting fucked with one stroke!
Imagine going to bed with a man, and still having to
resort to her own fucking hands!
Carla, furious and frustrated, got up and began to
dress. She glared at Sam. He didn't seem to give a damn. He
had poured himself another drink now and was obviously
waiting for her to go.
She called him a bastard again, on her way out.
Carla sure hoped that the neighbor's collie was
available when she got home.
Chapter 5
With the very first lick, Molly had realized that she
simply adored a mouthful of dog cock. She loved to make the
brutes whimper and whine and feel their pricks swell up in
her mouth, then milk the juice out of their swollen balls.
She loved the taste and the texture and the temperature. It
was true that the blonde felt ashamed of herself and had
vowed never to blow a dog again . . . after the day was over
. . . but at the moment, she felt obligated to give the black
Doberman the same treatment she had given the boxer. It was
only fair, she convinced herself. And having justified and
reasoned the necessity of it, she approached the act eagerly.
The Doberman stood stiff-legged, his prick looming out
under his panting belly, his head cocked to one side.
Molly began to crawl toward the Doberman on her hands
and knees, licking her lips, gazing at his pulsing cockhead
in happy expectation. It was, she promised herself, the last
dog prick that she would ever suck, but she intended to enjoy
it.
It didn't occur to the horny girl that, by crawling
across the floor away from the boxer, on her hands and knees,
she had assumed the pose of a bitch in heat.
The boxer's cock had softened somewhat after she had
emptied his balls for him, but it hadn't gone down
completely. And now, as he saw the woman in such a familiar
position, his stout prick began to harden and rise into a
brand-new erection. The boxer had been satisfied by the
blowjob. Re had adored it, certainly, but such sexual
deviations were alien to his canine nature. It had felt
wonderful, but it couldn't really be compared with true sex.
A mouth was not a cunt. He hadn't been able to really grind
the full length of his fat prick into her head, plunging in
balls-deep as he always did when he was putting the prick to
a bitch in heat. Thus, the dog had considered the blowjob
more as a form of foreplay than a real sexual conclusion . .
. just as when he tongued a bitch's cunt before he fucked
her.
Now the boxer found himself looking right at Molly's
cunt as she crawled away. Her hot fuckslot was foaming, the
pink lips unfurled like the petals of a fleshy blossom,
streaked with dew and oozing with sweet nectar. She crawled
away from him. It aroused his hunting instincts. She even
seemed to be wagging her tail as her sexy haunches squirmed
in sexual arousal.
But a woman couldn't run as fast as a bitch, let alone
crawl, and there was no low fence under which she might make
her escape.
The boxer considered the situation.
His prick got bigger and harder and hotter, starting to
pound like a jackhammer under his belly.
Molly didn't notice this.
Her attention was on that delicious-looking hunk of
Doberman prick, and the other erection was rising behind her
back as, in the doggy position, she crawled forwards.
Molly lowered her head and came in under the Doberman
like a shark rising to attack a swimmer from below.
Her tongue pushed out, fluttering.
The blonde began lapping the glossy knob of the
Doberman's prick, running her nimble tongue all over the
meaty slab. It was every bit as tasty as the boxer's cock.
She murmured and purred as she lapped his cockmeat. Then,
taking the fat head into her lips, she began to pull and suck
gently on his meaty mouthful. She held his cock with one hand
and cupped his balls with theother, her elbows braced on the
floor. But she didn't jack him. Since this was to be her last
mouthful of dog cum, Molly was in no hurry to get it. She
wanted to do it all with her mouth, and to make it last as
long as possible. The best part of a blowjob was drinking
the jism, of course, but Molly wanted to enjoy a lingering
feas t on the prickmeat course before she swallowed the
creamy dessert.
The Doberman tensed and bounded up.
He wrapped his forelegs around her shoulders.
He had mounted her from the front just as he would have
mounted her from behind, in the doggy position, clinging to
her shoulders as if they we?e her haunches and fucking into
her mouth just. as if it were a cunt. His spine bowed, then
arched. He poured the prick into her face, and Molly gave a
little gasp. With the boxer, she had only mouthed his smooth
cockhead and jacked the hairy stalk, but now she was getting
the boxer's cock shoved right back into her throat.
But it thrilled her.
The dog was fucking her in the mouth! He was whimpering
and whining and corkscrewing his prick in. The fat knob
lodged in her throat, and she gagged as her air was cut off.
But then he was withdrawing, and she purred with pleasure,
sucking thr ough every inch of his long cock. The dog pulled
out, paused, then drove in to the roots again. His bloated
balls swung against her chin. Molly didn't have to do
anything now . . . except suck and tongue. The dog had
taken over, in sexual frenzy, and she was the passive
partner, holding steady while he fucked her in the mouth. She
removed her hands from his cock and balls and, elbows on the
floor, supported her chin with her hands, letting the brute
set the tempo, wanting him to fuck her face at his own rapid
pace.
His cockhead wedged into her throat.
"Unghhh!" she gasped.
Then he drew back out and she sighed as his fat prick
pulled through her clamped lips, as she sucked on every
precious inch. He drew out until only his slippery, dripping
cockhead was in her mouth, and she nursed on it, purring.
"Ummm," she whimpered.
The knob flared mightily.
Then he was fucking it in again.
Molly's tongue had gone wild, lashing and curling around
under his knob and stalk, then folding into a little pink
bridge over which his cock could travel to her throat, then
slide as it pulled out again. Jism was oozing from his piss
slit. It blended with her saliva, coating his cockshaft. His
hairy prick steamed as the mingled juices evaporated in the
air, then plunged in to be coated with more of the sticky
stuff.
His cock got bigger and bigger.
The knob was flaring out so much that it pressed against
both of her cheeks at the same time.
Her lips were turning damned near inside out as he
withdrew, dragging them out with him.
Clinging to her shoulders, he humped furiously, his
haunches driving in with low, underslung strokes, his spine
twisting into an S-shape as his loins coiled in. His whole
shaggy body was vibrating. But he was not ready to come yet.
Molly was glad that she had already milked his prick
with her fist, so that, with the initial pressure released
from his balls, the Doberman was going to last a long time, a
long and wonderful time. She just adored having the dumb
brute fuck her in the mouth.
"Ummm . . . ummm . . . ummm," she purred, pulling on his
sweet dog meat as his pre-cum seeped into her mouth and ran
down her throat.
Getting fucked in the mouth was almost as nice as
getting fucked in the cunt, thought Molly.
She now wished she had a cuntful, too.
But that wasn't possible, not until her husband came
home. Molly was not the sort of girl who would ever fuck a
dog.
But her ass was wagging around just like a bitch in
heat, and her pussy was creaming for stiff prick . . . and
how was the poor, dumb boxer supposed to know that Molly did
not fuck dogs?
Chapter 6
The boxer had been a keen observer, watching his canine
comrade fucking the woman's head, treating her mouth like a
cunt . . . and leaving a perfectly good cunt unoccupied. He
began to move towards them, his prick swaying and throbbing.
Molly's elbows were on the floor, her chin was in her
hands and her ass was hiked up at the highest point of her
kneeling body. Her legs were parted and, from behind, her
pussy was readily accessible. The creamy fluids of her
arousal poured down her thighs and her crotch was lathered
with the stuff. The boxer watched her lips pull on the
Doberman's thundering cock. The two dogs exchanged a glance.
Then the boxer moved up be hind Molly, pushed his big, blunt
snout into her fuckslit and began to lap her cunt eagerly.
Molly gave a little cry, the sound muffled on the meaty
mouthful of the Doberman's prick.
The boxer's hot tongue slurped up her open pussy crack.
It felt wonderful, and Molly saw no reason why she
should stop the brute. After all, she had given him some
head, and it was fair that he return the favor.
She knew that she would be able to come on that hot
tongue.
It felt better than any cuntlapping the blonde had ever
received from her husband, she thought, as that long,
rasping, nimble tongue slipped moistly up her fuckslot. But
cuntlapping, to the dog, was only a preliminary.
The taste and scent of Molly's pussy were driving the
big, powerful brute to a sexual frenzy.
Then he mounted her.
When Molly felt the beast's forelegs wrapping firmly
around her hips and his belly jamming to her haunches, she
realized her mistake, realized that she had been in a
position that could hardly help but tempt a dog to mount her.
She had to stop him before he slipped his cockmeat into
her.
Sucking dog prick was one thing, but she was still
resolved never to get fucked by an animal.
He humped.
But he couldn't find her cunthole. Her crotch was angled
differently from a bitch's, and the boxer had no previous
experience in putting his prick into a human.
His knob bounced off her ass.
It skimmed up the inside of her thigh.
It wedged into her taut asscrack.
Seeing that the brute could not get it up her cunt,
Molly saw no reason why she had to push him away. It did no
harm to let him hump her asscrack, as long as he didn't get
his cock in her cunt. And it would feel nice to have his cum
squirt on to her ass, she thought. Still merrily mouthing the
Doberman's prick, she squirmed and wriggled her ass around
under the mounted boxer.
Suddenly, he got the angle right.
The head of his cock slid into her cunt.
Molly gasped and reached back between her legs, grasping
the boxer by the balls, so that he could not drive his
fuckshaft up her. Only the tip was lodged in her cunthole.
She wouldn't let him go any deeper. On the other hand, it
felt so lovely to have that swollen hunk of dog meat stuck in
her pussy that she was not inclined to pull him back out,
either. She just held him steady, feeling the tip of his hot
prick pulse and ripple in her sucking cuntlips. As his
cockhead expanded, it brushed against the throbbing button of
her clit, causing Molly to give a little moan. She was still
getting fucked in the mouth; she moaned on that sliding
cockmeat.
The boxer was desperate.
With cunt so near, yet so far, with his knob imbedded,
but his prickshaft restrained, he was going wild. He
whimpered and whined in despair, the sound of his terrible
frustration a pitiable thing.
Molly felt sorry for the boxer.
He needed it so badly.
His prick was pounding with need. And her cunt needed
it, too! That shallow penetration, that lovely rubbing
against her clit was making the horny woman as hot and
desperate as the dog. Her pussy felt like a vacuum that was
yearning to be filled.
She slackened her grip on his balls.
Another inch of dog cock slid into her.
That was all Molly would allow! She simply must not let
the dog shove his cock up her! No matter how much he wanted
it, no matter how much she wanted it herself, she must not do
it!
Then the Doberman shot in her mouth.
Yelping with joy, the black brute slammed into her mouth
with a deep thrust, and Molly felt his jism hose her throat.
She gulped the hot, thick juice down. He squirted her with
another sweet dose. Drinking the dog's cum, Molly lost all
restraint and all resolve. It always made her hot to drink
cum, to know that a man . . . or a dog . . . had spilled his
jism into her mouth and now, with a cockhead surging at the
entrance to her pussy, she was an inferno of lust.
Her hand slowly opened, releasing the boxer's balls.
The big dog braced his hindlegs and his haunches
stiffened, then he slammed in to the hilt.
Molly had her first cuntful of dog prick!
She was still swallowing cum, moaning with the joy of
that and gasping with the pleasure of having her cunt stuffed
to the very brim with a fat, hammering cock.
She gulped and swallowed. Jism kept pouring out of the
Doberman's ramrod prick, lacing her gullet, flooding down her
throat. And now the boxer was starting to fuck her with
energetic thrusts, his prick slamming in and out. Drinking a
bellyful of cum, Molly found herself longing for a cuntful to
go with it, to be filled with jism from both ends, to have
her innards awash in the thick stuff.
She began to whip her ass around and to drive her hips
back to meet the boxer's lunges, slamming her cunt onto his
prick as he plowed savagely up her fuckhole.
The Doberman's cock and balls were emptied now.
Molly continued to nurse on his cockhead for a moment,
milking out the last frothy drops, but now her interest was
centered on the brute behind her. Her concentration shifted
from sucking to fucking, and her tight pussy began to pull
and drag on the boxer's hammering cock as if her pussy was a
hungry mouth.
The Doberman's cock slipped from her lips with a popping
sound, like a cork from a bottle.
It swayed and began to sag.
Molly automatically gave the knob a few parting
tongue-strokes, polishing the shrinking dog meat. Then the
Doberman had hopped down from her shoulders, and she was able
to turn her full attention on the fact that her cunt was
being stuffed by the boxer.
His cock felt like a heated crowbar as it wedged and
fucked into the very depths of her loins. His prick knob was
a lump of smoldering iron buried far up her belly, and his
fuckshaft was spreading her cunthole out around it as it
expanded.
Molly twisted, working her cunt around as he filled it,
winding her pussy onto his prick. Her cunt muscles sucked on
him, tightening in a series of circular squeezes that ran up
his prick from root to knob, as if she were jacking him off
with some internal hand, as if there were a mysterious mouth
blowing him deep inside her churning pussy.
The boxer's furious fucking was driving her up and down.
Her ass lowered as he withdrew, then tilted up as his massive
cock surged up her cunt again. Her head was lowered to the
floor, one cheek pressed to the carpet now, her face a mask
of pure animal lust. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips were
parted. A trickle of cum ran out from the corner of her
mouth. It formed a glistening pool, like quicksilver, on the
rug. Molly was shuddering and trembling, her whole soft; lush
body vibrant with the thrill of it.
The boxer's heavy balls looped in like a weighted
blackjack, whacking against her ass as his cock went in. His
fat shaft and cockhead filled her to the brim, causing
cuntjuice to pour out steadily as he pumped into her.
The thrill started to run up her thighs.
A wave rippled across her belly, followed by another,
then yet a third, each wave crashing faster and reaching
higher, then blending into one long, sustained peak. Molly
was coming. She was dazed by the sensation. She didn't know
if she was coming again and again, in a multiple orgasm, or
if she was experiencing a single crest, prolonged at those
ecstatic heights.
Then the dog, too, was at the crest.
He whimpered and his haunches flashed in, blurring,
shoveling his frenzied prick into her.
Molly felt his hot jism rush into her cunt.
She gurgled with the joy of it, and her own lingering
climax surged to a new peak as she creamed on the dog's
spurting cock. He poured load after load up her cunt, and
each time he spilled another dose, her pussy melted again.
At long last, he slowed down. He was still pumping into
her, but his thrusts came with less power, less speed. Cum
was still pouring out, but it was no longer spurting, he was
emptying the last drops of his abundant load in a mere
trickle.
Molly sank down on the floor.
As her crotch went down, she dragged the dog's prick
down with her, forcing him to hunker down. He stood there,
still stuck up her, his tongue lolling out and his jaw
hanging open in a human-like grin as he panted with his
exertions.
She crawled forward, trying to disengage.
She merely pulled the dog along with her, still coupled.
A terrible thought came to the girl! What if the dog was
stuck up her, as often happened with dogs and bitches? What
if she could not pluck his prick out of her pussy, if she was
stuck on that fat cock, unable to disengage? Oh dear! What if
the dog was still stuck up her cunt when her husband got home
from work?
That, to say the least, would be embarrassing.
Jake would have to throw a bucket of cold water over
them before they could uncouple!
Horrified at that prospect, Molly began to really squirm
as she tried to haul her cunt off his cock, dragging him with
her. But then she felt his prickmeat soften inside her. After
a moment, as she pulled away, the long shaft came sliding
slowly from her cunthole. As it slipped all the way out,
Molly turned to look at the dog. He was sitting up on his
haunches. His cock, semi-stiff now, hung down on the floor.
His prick knob was lathered with cum and cuntjuice, and his
piss slit was still oozing a slippery line of jism onto the
carpet.
His cockhead, Molly thought, could use a polish.
And it was a shame not to swallow the residue of his
climax, to taste his cock after it had been soaking in her
cunt.
She slid toward him, belly down on the floor, her chin
resting on the carpet, her tits dragging under her. The boxer
didn't move as she approached, head down and ass up, like a
playful puppy. She pushed her tongue out and lapped at his
cockhead, then slurped it into her mouth and began nursing
lovingly. It was soft and rubbery but, as she sucked, it
twitched with a sign of new vitality. It was nice to take an
animal's cock into her mouth, then feel it swell and harden
as she sucked on it, thought the horny woman. And his prick
tasted even better than it had before, now that it had been
in her pussy. Blended with her cuntjuice, the dog's cum and
his hot prickmeat had acquired a brand-new flavor.
Swallowing her own cuntjuice off his knob, Molly
couldn't help but remember how Carla had admitted to being a
cuntsucker . . . and she admitted to herself just how
delicious pussy juice was.
Molly would have liked to suck a cunt.
She never would, of course.
The blonde would have liked to suck a cock that had been
in another girl's cunt, too, she thought.
A big collie's cock, for instance?
But no, she mustn't do that. It was just a fantasy; she
was just carried away by this perverted situation. Molly
decided she must never lap a cunt, and she must never again
suck and fuck with dogs. The horny woman had slipped up this
once, but never again. The only prick she would ever have
again would be human, and attached to her husband.
Then the telephone rang.
Chapter 7
The boxer's cock was still in Molly's mouth when she
heard the telephone ring. For a moment, she was tempted not
to answer it, to keep sucking on that tasty slab of dog meat
until it got big and hard again, and fed her another lovely
drink of cum. But it was hard to concentrate on cocksucking
when the telephone was ringing persistently. And maybe it was
all for the best. If she hadn't been distracted, she might
well have wound up sucking and fucking both dogs again,
despite her vow.
Reluctantly, she pulled her lips off his cockhead,
giving it a last slurp and a parting lap. The fat wedge was
swelling again and her mouth had polished it to a gloss.
Molly got to her feet a bit unsteadily.
Both well-emptied dogs looked at her. She gave them a
shy smile, still slightly embarrassed by what she had done,
even though she had done it with them, and-they were, after
all, no more than dumb animals.
She went over to answer the telephone.
"Hello?" she said, trying to keep her voice normal, to
hide the fact that she was still panting.
"That you, honey?" her husband asked.
"Sure, darling."
"You sounded sort of funny," said Jake. Molly wondered
if a girl's voice changed after she'd had a mouthful of dog
prick. Had her vocal cords somehow been transformed by the
cum that had washed her throat?
"Oh, I'm fine," she said.
"Listen, Molly . . . I'm going to be late tonight," Jake
said. "I called to let you know."
Oh, no, Molly thought. Not tonight, of all nights! Not
when she wanted his big, human prick so badly.
"I've got a few things to clear up at the office," he
explained. "Don't plan on me eating dinner. I'll grab a
sandwich."
"Oh, must you, darling?" she asked, dismayed.
Jake sounded surprised. He often worked late-at least,
that's what he told his wife-and she had never protested
before. He said: "Well, yeah . . . I really should, honey."
"Well, if you have to," she said sadly.
"Is anything wrong?" he asked, sounding a bit
suspicious.
"No, I just miss you," she said.
I miss your prick, she thought. I want you to fuck the
ass off me, and I want to blow you and I . . . well, no,
maybe I don't want you to suck my cunt today, just in case
you might wonder why it's so full of dog jism. She almost
giggled. "I'll see you later, then, okay?" said Jake.
"I'll be waiting, darling," said Molly.
She hung up the phone.
The dogs were watching her.
Now she had hours to kill.
How could a horny girl resist when it was such a
pleasant way to pass the time?
Molly alternated between the two willing brutes, nursing
on each cock in turn until she had sucked them both up nice
and stiff again. She wasn't going to let either of them have
her cunt, however. She had slipped up with the boxer, but it
had been more of an accident than any intention. He had
sneaked up on her when she wasn't looking, and it was more as
if she had been raped against her will than that she had
complied . . . or so she told herself.
No, she would save her cunt for her husband now.
By the time he finally got home, it would be a
smoldering inferno, and she would enjoy him all the more.
But since she had to wait and had all that time to kill,
she had decided to blow the dogs again. She was in no hurry
at all. The longer it lasted, the less time she would have to
wait, cockless, for Jake to fetch his big fucker home.
In order to prolong the oral sex, she kept switching
back and forth from dog to dog.
She sucked the boxer until he showed signs of coming,
then shifted to the black Doberman and mouthed his prick
while the boxer's cock cooled down a bit.
At first, the dogs didn't understand and protested
loudly, yelping and growling, when Molly left them
unfinished. But they were clever dogs learning new tricks
and, soon enough, they realized that their pricks had not
been forsaken, that the delay was only temporary and, soon
enough, that hot mouth would be on them once more.
Still, she eventually had to milk them.
Both cocks were dripping again, and the taste was
driving her wild.
Molly decided that she preferred to get fucked in the
mouth to giving a blowjob, and she hauled a cushion off the
couch. As she stretched out on the floor, her head and neck
were supported on the cushion so that her mouth was
positioned like a cunt.
Straddling her, the Doberman pushed his big prick out
into her flushed face. She kissed his cocktip, then slurped
it in, and the brute started humping her immediately. She
knew there would be hairs stuck between her teeth, for he was
burying his furry prickshaft as well as his slippery knob,
shoving his meat right down her throat. Her throat muscles
opened, and she took him willing in to the roots,
deep-throating the brute eagerly. The boxer was standing
beside her, and she played with his prick, stroking it
slowly, not trying to bring him off, but just keeping
him smoking-hot until it was his turn to fuck her face.
The Doberman's cockhead lodged in her throat, and she
gagged. Then it whipped out again, and she sucked lovingly as
it pulled through the tight collar of her pursed lips, her
tongue wildly licking and bathing the fiery underside. Jism
was coming out in little spurts as he plunged in, then
trickling out as he withdrew.
She waited for it eagerly.
When the Doberman shot his wad, he spilled it on the in-
stroke, with his prick buried in her throat.
It was something of a disappointment.
Molly felt the hot cum splash in her throat, but it was
beyond her mouth and past her tastebuds, and she missed out
on the pleasure of the succulent flavor. The blonde had to
content herself with the slimy texture as it ran down her
throat, and the psychological thrill of knowing that a dog
had creamed in her mouth again.
Then the boxer took over.
He fucked her mouth with energy and vigor but, to her
delight, he came as he was pulling out. The precious cum
skidded over her tongue and through her cheeks, and she was
able to enjoy the savory taste before she swallowed the load.
Molly milked his prick to the bone.
Now both dogs had come three times and, potent as they
were, their pricks were drooping and starting to draw back
up, retracting into their bodies. Their balls were drained.
And Molly's cunt was seething.
How long would she have to wait? What if Jake was hungry
when he got home, and he waited to eat first? What if he
needed a drink to relax after his long day at the office?
The blonde began to wish that she had not milked both
dogs in her mouth, that one of them had a stiff prick for her
cunt.
Then she had an idea!
Why not drive down and meet Jake at the office? It was
after normal closing time now, and all the staff would have
gone home. Jake would be there alone . . . and there was a
couch in his reception room! Surely, he would be pleased to
see her, and willing to take a break from his work long
enough to throw a fuck into her! And she would enjoy it all
the more for the change in scene.
Molly had never been fucked in Jake's office.
But Jake's secretary had . . .
Chapter 8
Gloria Marks had worked for the company for some time,
and Jake had inherited her as his secretary with his last
promotion. She was a buxom redhead with tits that hung from
her chest like twin cannonballs, fig shaped ass, and between
them, and emphasizing them, a very tiny waist. Her dark, red
hair was heavy and richly coiled in tresses like burnished
bronze. Jake, like any normal man, had often looked at Gloria
with admiration and perhaps an odd fleeting sexual fantasy,
but he had never tried to approach or seduce her. Like his
wife, Jake had been faithful.
Then he was promoted.
He got a new office, new responsibilities and, with
them, he got the redheaded secretary.
For a few days nothing transpired.
Jake, who was a handsome guy, tall and lean and sandy
haired, with a boyish smile, noticed that Gloria watched him
speculatively from time to time, staring across her
typewriter. When he caught her gaze, she continued to look
contemplatively at him for a moment, before looking away.
He thought nothing of it.
As a secretary, she was highly efficient, and he figured
he was lucky to have her.
He didn't realize just how lucky.
Then, one day, he had just finished some difficult
paperwork and leaned back in his chair, stretching and
shifting his stiff neck muscles. Gloria moved up behind him,
placing her hands on either side of his neck, and she began
to massage him.
"Ummmm, nice," he sighed.
"Yeah. Mr. Thomas used to like that, too," she said,
referring to Jake's predecessor. Then, thoughtfully, she
added: "I've been wondering if things were going to be the
same with you as they always were with Mr. Thomas?"
"I don't quite understand," Jake said.
"Oh, you know . . . my duties . . ."
"You're very efficient, Miss Marks," he said.
"Yes, but . . . all of my duties?"
Jake was confused. "Such as?"
When she didn't reply, he turned his head, his neck
still between her hands, and glanced up at her. He was
surprised to find that she was blushing.
"I mean . . . like masssaging your neck when it gets
stiff," she said, averting her gaze.
"That's . . . very nice," he said, puzzled, uncertain,
just starting to get an inkling of the truth.
Gloria bit her lower lip.
She was obviously struggling to work up the nerve to say
something further, blushing deeper, eyes shifting nervously.
"And . . . Mr. Thomas used to get very, very stiff," she
said.
Jake stared at her, the truth slowly dawning.
"All over," she added.
"I . . . I don't . . ."
"You don't like me to touch you?"
"Gloria, I'm a married man," said Jake.
Then she gave him a slow smile, full of meaning. "So was
Mr. Thomas," she said, significantly.
And, sure enough, Jake discovered that his neck was not
the only stiff part of his body. He turned away, very much
aware of the lump riding high in his trousers. Gloria
continued to rub his neck, leaning closer now, so that her
huge tits were pressed against the back of his head like a
pillow. She was looking down into his lap, seeing that
obvious lump nudging out at its cotton prison.
"Shall I, sir?" she asked.
Jake tried to say no, he honestly did. His mouth opened
and his tongue tangled all over itself as he tried to form
that simple, single negative answer.
But the word would not come out.
His vocal cords seemed to have become as stiff and rigid
as his prick, and he could say nothing at all. He just sat
there, her hands on his muscular neck, his head resting on
her tits, amazed by the situation he found himself in.
And Gloria was so efficient.
She never minded how much work was laid on her desk, and
she was always willing to do more than her share. When the
new boss had made no extra-curricular requests, it had
troubled her deeply. The dutiful redhead thought she was
falling down on the job. No, when Jake said nothing, Gloria
took it as meaning that he would enjoy the same treatment
that Mr. Thomas had requested.
She moved around, then knelt in front of him.
He could only stare, his mouth forming soundless words.
Gloria opened his fly, then drew his big prick out,
giving a little sigh when she saw and felt how hard and hot
it was. She looked up at him with a smile. Jake found
himself smiling back. He didn't really mean to encourage her-
he was, after all, a married man-but he felt compelled to
smile at her, felt that she would be grievously hurt, maybe
even quit her job, if he did not show her a bit of
appreciation and encouragement.
She began to skim her hand up and down his cock.
It thundered and pounded wildly.
Giving him an impish look, Gloria said: "I don't have a
tissue on me; boss."
Jake hiked his ass up, reaching for his handkerchief.
But the redhead's tongue slid across her lower lip. "If
you don't mind, I'll just take it in the mouth. That way, I
won't have to mop up afterward."
Jake didn't mind at all.
When Gloria sucked him off, she proved to be as
efficient a cocksucker as she was a secretary, milking out
every last drop and swallowing the lot without spilling any
at all.
It had been so good that, despite himself and his guilt
at being unfaithful to his wife, Jake found that he was
getting stiff almost every day. Only her oral massages could
soothe and relieve the throbbing strain of it.
He didn't fuck her for a week after that.
Gloria didn't object. She liked giving head and was able
to get her rocks off as she did so. Jake had convinced
himself that he wasn't really committing adultery as long as
he just came in her mouth and not her pussy.
Yet that red-haired cunt was available.
Jake was no saint.
After that first week of blowjobs, he faltered in his
semi-celibate resolutions and, staying late at the office one
day, fucked her on top of his executive desk.
Her cunt was even more talented than her mouth.
That was when Jake, ashamed of himself but without the
willpower to resist, began working late quite frequently.
This was one of those days.
Had Jake realized the mood that his wife was in, he
might well have neglected secretarial pussy and hurried on
home to put the prick to Molly. But although her voice had
sounded strange on the telephone, he hadn't known why that
was. Molly was always more than happy to give Jake his
marital rights, but she had always been rather shy about it,
seldom taking the initiative or making the first suggestion.
Jake had no cause to think she might behave differently
today.
Jake didn't know about Carla and the dogs.
Chapter 9
They never made any verbal arrangements or plans for
getting together after the rest of the office staff had gone
home. Somehow, by not speaking about it, Jake was able to
view his infidelity as spontaneous and, therefore, less
shameful than if it had been premeditated. And Gloria just
saw it as part-of her job, a bit of pleasant overtime, even a
benefit of her position. Jake simply stayed at his desk when
the office closed and Gloria, taking the hint, lingered at
her own desk while the others departed. Then she came to him
and, seldom saying much, sometimes not speaking a single
word, they made love in one way or another.
Jake was lingering today.
Gloria waited until the office was vacated by everyone
else, then she went into Jake's private office.
She did so, in fact, at the exact same moment that
Molly, having sent the two dogs home, was getting in her car
with the intention of surprising her husband at work.
The meaty flavor of dog prick lingered on her tongue and
the taste of dog cum remained in her mouth, and since she had
sucked both dogs off since the boxer had fucked her, the
woman was hot again and hoping to catch her husband in the
mood.
The mood . . . not the act.
Gloria came into the room, pausing by the entrance. She
was wearing a pale silk blouse, and the fact that she wore no
bra was evident because her stiff nipples were pressing twin
peaks in the silk. She wore a short skirt, showing her nice,
lush legs. Jake was pretending to be occupied with some
paperwork. Gloria waited.
They had fallen into a routine whereby she could tell
what he wanted without exchanging words. If he turned his
swivel chair and remained in it, she would kneel down in
front of him, open his fly, haul his big prick out and take
it into her hot mouth, nursing on it until he creamed. If, on
the other hand, he rose from his seat, she knew that he was
in the mood for some pussy, and she would begin to take her
clothing off. Sometimes they fucked on the desk, sometimes on
the couch, once in awhile, on the floor. They often fucked
standing up, her back to the wall as his powerful,
upthrusting strokes drove her onto her tiptoes. She would
cling to his shoulders for support and wrap her heavy thighs
around his hips.
Jake looked up from his feigned paperwork.
He smiled.
Then he stood up.
Gloria began to undress. Jake gazed at her with
admiration. She drew the blouse off, revealing her cannonball
tits, her pink nipples like bullets. She had really mouth-
watering tits, he thought. Then she stepped out of her short
skirt. She wore brief bikini panties, and he could see the
triangular outline of her pussy hair through the material.
Hooking her thumbs under the elastic band, she slowly tugged
them down, her hips squirming and her ass shifting as they
passed over her crotch.
He saw that the crotchband of the panties was soaking
wet.
When she tossed them aside, they fluttered to the carpet
like a moth with damp wings.
Her pubic bush was fiery bronze, the coils like tongues
of flame on her groin, as if she had ignited from the intense
heat of her juicy cunt. There was a slippery sheen on the
smooth, ivory flesh of her inner thighs.
Naked, she posed for him.
She was waiting to see if he moved toward the couch,
toward her, or stayed by the desk.
Jake stayed by the desk.
Gloria moved toward him, her hips lashing from side to
side as if she were switching an invisible tail behind her, a
voracious cat stalking her meaty prey.
Jake came out from behind the big desk to meet her.
Standing beside it, they embraced and his mouth ground on
hers, lips parting, tongues flashing back and forth.
Jake ran his hands up her smooth hips, then cupped her
firm ass and drew her belly tight to his. Gloria could feel
his hard-on throbbing away in his pants. Reaching down, she
cupped his balls. Her other hand sought the clasp of his
zipper, but before she could open his fly, he turned her
toward the desk. She perched on the edge, her ass braced on
the rim and her legs trailing down.
His mouth dragged off hers, and he lowered his head to
her tits. He sucked upon each stiff nipple in turn, running
his tongue all around her fat tit-mounds and up the deep
cleavage.
Gloria shuddered with the delicious sensation. She loved
to have her tits sucked. Jake usually paid little attention
to such details. In fact, he did so deliberately. Fucking her
was one thing, it was a way to get his rocks off, but running
through the preliminaries of foreplay made him feel more
unfaithful to his wife, more of an adulterer because of the
tenderness involved.
Today, although it made him feel more sinful, Jake was
in the mood for lots of foreplay.
He sank down to his knees, his head still working on her
tits, his lips pulling on the stiff tips.
Gloria was thrilled.
She arched her back, thrusting her tits out into his
face, stroking his head with one hand.
He moved lower.
As he kissed her belly and his tongue probed into her
belly button, the lush redhead began to vibrate all over. He
moved lower still. His tongue rustled through her bronze
pubic hair like a little pink rodent through dense
underbrush.
Was he going to suck her cunt?
Jake had never done that for her, and Gloria found the
idea extremely exciting. She arched deeper and spread her
thighs wide open. He licked away at her lower belly, then
began to run his tongue up the sleek slopes of her thighs,
the strokes falling just short of her crotch. He licked up
the creases where her thighs joined her pelvis, his tongue
tracing a path parallel with her open fuckslot. She purred
and moaned, her hand stroking his head and cheek
encouragingly.
Jake drew back and looked at her crotch.
Her cuntlips were spread open so wide that they seemed
to be turning inside out, and her open fuckslot was filled
with cuntjuice. It was a luscious sight. Jake groaned and
began to drool. He had always avoided going down on her
before. That was a treat that he had always saved for his
wife. But he was cunt-hungry today and Gloria's juicy cunt,
framed in that fiery bush, gaping wide open, looked
absolutely delicious. With a little sigh of desire, he buried
his face between her thighs.
He began to tongue up her pussy.
Gloria gurgled with the sensation.
His talented tongue was scooping out creamy ribbons from
her cunt. His head turned from side to side, as if revolving
around his lapping tongue. Then his lips parted, and he began
to suck from her flowing pussy.
"Oooooh," she purred. "I love that!"
As he slurped juice from her cunt, his lips sucked the
sweet nectar out hungrily. He began to work on her clit and
she started to tremble with the rising tide of her coming.
"Don't stop!" she wailed.
Jake had no intention of stopping, not until he had
tongued an orgasm from her smoldering cunt.
Her smooth thighs closed around his head like a velvet
snare, holding his head to her groin. Then they rippled and
parted wide again, so she could look down the arched slope of
her torso and watch his nimble tongue flick and dip in her
soaking cunt.
The thrill raced through her pussy.
Gloria felt as if she were dissolving, as if her flesh
and blood were melting, turning into cuntjuice, pouring out
into his mouth, her very life force creaming on his tongue.
She cried out in ecstasy as she creamed.
Jake lapped merrily away, bringing her off, sucking and
tonguing even after she had stopped shuddering, to make sure
that he had worked off every last spasm of her joy.
He looked up, smiling, his lips smeared with the lather
of her lust. She looked down, smiling, too, in gratitude and
satisfaction. He ducked in and gave her cunt a last slurp,
then rose up, opening his trousers as he did so, ready to
fuck her now. His lust had been brought to violent heights
while he snacked on her pussy, and now he was ready to drive
his cockmeat into her.
At that very moment, Molly was driving her car into the
parking lot below.
When he opened his fly, his prick charged out with its
own momentum, like a frenzied bull rushing into the bullring,
eager to sink its hard horn into soft, warm flesh.
His cock towered up before the arched redhead, his balls
level with her groin and the flaring knob extending up so far
that it loomed, dripping, over her belly button. Her eyes
blurred as she gazed at his big slab of purple prickmeat. A
glob of jism ran down from his piss slit and traced a
glistening trail down his shaft, following the thick, dark,
pulsating vein. Licking her lips, Gloria started to reach out
for it, to draw the head into her mouth, but Jake dipped at
the knees and aimed his pounding cockhead towards her
lathered cunt.
He pushed the tip in.
Gloria began to wail with expectation.
She had come already, when he sucked her cunt, but
Gloria was not a girl who refused the chance to come more
than once, and she squirmed in anticipation of a cuntful of
his stiff prickmeat.
Jake began to feed it to her slowly, pushing into her
rippling cunt tunnel inch by inch. Her pussy pulled on him
and her lush hips rocked from side to side as she balanced on
the very edge of the desk, her ass churning on the rim.
Gloria looked down, seeing his cock framed by the inner
slopes of her big tits and the gentle rise of her belly. He
was gazing down, too, watching his long, thick prick
disappear up her hairy pussy. Her cuntlips dragged and
fluttered around his vanishing cockshaft. He pushed and
paused, then pushed again.
With a final shove, he drove his prick balls-deep up her
cunt.
And his wife was two flights up in the self-service
elevator as she ascended toward his office, looking forward
to surprising her husband at his work . . . and not knowing
that she was going to get quite an unexpected surprise of her
own.
Jake ground his prick into Gloria, holding the full
penetration and working his fat shaft around in the buried
depths. He was grimacing and grunting with the effort, and
she was starting to whimper and pant with the joy of being
filled of cock. Then he pulled out very slowly, with her hot
fuckhole dragging across every inch of his prick, until only
the swollen knob remained stuck up her. His hands clamped
onto her hips, holding her steady. She arched deeper, the
chasm of her cunt seeming to suck on his cockhead.
Jake slid the length in again.
He began pouring the prick to her steadily, but slowly,
his thrusts long, underslung and rippling, getting into a
slow rhythm that would prolong the act and sustain the
pleasure. His balls swung back and forth. His belly pressed
on hers as his cock vanished up her cunt. There was nothing
between their crotches as he was plugged up her like a peg
into a perfectly matched wet hole.
Gloria was trying to move with him, holding to the same
slow, steady tempo, but she was getting carried away and
finding it hard to restrain herself. Her hips were rolling
and her belly was pumping, thrusting twice to his once,
pushing her cunt down over his prick and pulling it back up
again while he slid in once.
Her feet rose up, arched, toes pointing outward. Her
thighs closed around his hips and she locked her ankles
behind his ass, gripping him tightly, her leg muscles
tensing, then relaxing in tempo with his humping.
"Fuck," she whispered.
His prick hissed up her hot cunthole.
She began repeating the word, saying it each time he
shoveled his prickmeat to her, "Fuck... fuck... fuck..."
Jake began whipping his cock in and out faster, running
it directly across her clit as it plunged into the depths of
her pussy, jolting her pelvis and rattling her hipbones with
his vigorous thrusts as the pace built up.
And Molly was out of the elevator, coming down the
corridor at her own rapid pace, walking fast now in her
eagerness to get to her husband's big prick. She was at the
door. She came into the outer office. It was empty, but that
was only to be expected, for the receptionist would have
already gone home.
She headed for the inner office.
Cuntjuice was gushing out of Gloria as Jake's thick
fuckshaft pumped in and out of her, drawing her nectar out as
if he were pumping it from a well. They were both soaring
towards the heights now, all restraint lost, making no
attempt to pro long the coupling further or to hold back the
spillage of their pleasure.
She was still gasping: "Fuck . . . fuck fuck . . ." As
the crest came rushing upon them, she writhed. "Come' . . oh!
Come in me, shoot that hot cum up my cunt, fill my pussy with
your sweet fuckjuice!"
"Take it, baby! Here it comes!" Jake rasped.
His balls erupted and the volcanic jism squirted from
his cockhead, filling her cunt in a creamy deluge.
Gloria wailed with joy as she felt his cum pour into
her, and her pussy melted like a wax candle around his
burning, spurting prick as she joining him in orgasm. He kept
pumping his cock into her, shooting dose after dose, and she
vibrated all over as her cunt melted with him.
It was no wonder that, at a moment like this, neither
Jake nor Gloria were aware that Molly was standing, open-
mouthed, in the doorway.
Chapter 10
Molly had heard the sounds of their fucking from the
outer office, and halted, frowning, puzzled. Those sounds
were unmistakable . . . and would have been even if she had
not heard the woman defining the act, over and over, with
that one descriptive command.
Who was fucking in Jake's office?
Where was Jake?
Molly had always trusted her husband. It took a few
moments for the horrible thought that perhaps it was Jake who
was involved in that fucking to sink in. She stood there,
dazed, rooted to the spot. She was tempted to turn around and
walk back out. She didn't want to know the truth! But
something drew her toward the door. Not wanting to know, the
trembling blonde nevertheless felt compelled to find out.
She moved to the inner door and looked in. She had
arrived just as Jake got into the finishing strokes. Molly
was stunned. Her eyes popped out, her mouth dropped open and
she gave a quiet gasp of shock. She felt a flush of heat,
followed by a grip of icy cold.
She saw his fat prick vanish up Gloria's flame-haired
fuck hole, then pull back out, slathered with cuntjuice.
Her husband's prick!
Her prick! The cock for which she had come, yearning,
only to find it servicing another woman's cunt!
She noticed how juicy that pussy looked, too, steaming,
the clit exploding like a percussion cap.
Now Jake was emptying his cock and balls into her, and
the redhead was wailing as she came with him.
Unable to stand anymore, Molly moved away from the door.
She was so numbed by shock that she didn't know what emotions
she felt. The blonde shook her head, trying to clear it. She
was angry, of course. But she was embarrassed, too. It made
her feel inadequate that her husband would have another
woman, made her wonder if she was not enough for him. How
long has it been going on? And why was it going on? Was it
her fault or was he simply an unfaithful swine? And what
should she do about i t? She didn't have the nerve nor the
will to confront him in the act. She knew that her voice
would break, that she would blush as much as if she were the
guilty party. She would have to think long and hard about the
situation, before deciding whether to tell him she knew about
his affair, or simply to ignore that terrible knowledge and
hope that the affair was not serious.
Molly went back into the corridor.
Her cheeks were flaming.
Then a strange thought came to her; she was glad that
she had been sucking and fucking with dogs! She had been
deeply ashamed of that, before she discovered her husband's
infidelity. Now it seemed justified, as if she had taken her
revenge on him even before she knew there was a sin to be
avenged.
It served the bastard right to be cuckolded by a boxer!
And as she remembered the dogs, she remembered, too,
what had motivated her uncharacteristic behavior.
Carla!
Carla was the sort of woman with whom she could talk
freely, in whom she could confide! Carla was worldly. She
would be able to advise Molly how to respond to Jake's
adultery. Molly felt an urge to talk to Carla, to tell her
all about this and even, in a strange way, to confess about
her own affair with the two canines. She had intended to
keep quiet about that, never to tell a soul. Now that her
husband was cheating on her, she felt the urge to let someone
. . . Carla . . . know that she was not so faithful,
herself. She still thought that fucking and blowing dogs were
things to be ashamed of, and knew she would blush furiously
when she admitted it. But her deep shame only added to the
bizarre thrill of confession, the desire to admit her
degradation to another woman. Carla, a devout dog-fucker,
herself, would hardly blame Molly. They would probably have a
good giggle over it, over the funny way that Molly had gotten
even with Jake even before she knew he had sinned.
But would Carla be home?
She had most likely gotten picked up by that man in the
cocktail lounge. But would it have been a fast fuck in a
hotel, or might she have brought him home with her? Molly
didn't want to interrupt if Carla was having it off with the
guy . . . and she most certainly wasn't going to confess
about her doggy adventure in front of a strange man.
Well, she would drive over to Carla's, anyhow.
If Carla was busy, she wouldn't stay.
Molly, desperate to confide in someone and to seek her
advice, went back down to the car, hoping that Carla wasn't
busy.
Carla wasn't busy.
She was, however, horny.
Carla had suffered the misfortune of having sex with not
one, but two, premature ejaculators in the same day.
The first had been Sam, in the hotel.
And the second had been a fucking dog!
Wasn't that just her rotten luck?
After Carla had left limp-pricked Sam, she had gone
directly home, hoping to find the collie prowling about her
backyard, but when she got there she found no sign of the big
brute . . . not even any dog shit. Waves of frustration
washed over her. Christ, did she have to fingerfuck herself
again? That did no good. A handjob only served to make her
juicier, to make her crave the real thing all the more. But
the collie was not around, and she couldn't think of a man
that she might phone at that hour, to request a servicing.
Carla had no steady boyfriends since her divorce. She
preferred to play the field, enjoying a variety of bed
partners, rather than to get involved with a single man. But
at the moment, that was working against her. Where could she
fin d a prick? Did she have to go back out and get picked up
again? She hated the thought, preferring to stay home and
have a cock fetched to her.
But where and who?
She considered sending herself a telegram and seducing
the boy who delivered it.
But sight unseen, that was chancy.
She didn't give a damn how old the lad was or what he
looked like, but what if he happened to have a tiny prick?
The same drawback held true for ordering flowers or
calling a television repairman.
What about the dog pound, though?
Her green eyes widened and sparked at the idea. There
must be plenty of stray dogs there, available for adoption to
a good, dog-loving home, and Carla would be able to look them
over and select the one with the biggest, nicest cock and
balls. That lucky doggy was going to have the sort of home
that stray dogs dream about! And it would serve the collie
right, too, for not being around when she needed him! She was
positively enchanted by the thought of standing there, with
dogs in cages all around her, a whole slew of pricks waiting
for a home! She might just cream right there in the kennels,
she thought, the cuntjuice would just run down her legs!
But then she groaned, remembering something that she had
heard about the process of dog adoption.
You weren't allowed to simply pay for a license and take
the dog away with you. There was bureaucratic bullshit
involved. You had to wait until the dog had gotten his shots
before they would release him to you. Carla hated red tape.
She was perfectly willing to take a chance on distemper or,
hot as she was, maybe even rabies, but she was not willing to
wait to get her cunt full of prick.
Damn! It had seemed such a good idea, too!
She was pacing nervously back and forth across the
living room, very much aware of her smoldering pussy as her
thighs rubbed together around it. The pit of her groin was
squishing with every slow stride. The juice tickled as it
oozed out.
Then her pacing took her to the window.
And gazing out, Carla saw a strange dog in the yard! It
wasn't a large dog, sad to say.
But it looked frisky and vigorous. It was a mongrel, she
thought, some sort of cross-bred terrier, perhaps. Carla
considered, wishing it were a Great Dane or a wolfhound, but
she was in no condition to look a gift dog in the mouth.
Carla decided to give it a try.
She hurried to the kitchen and got a hunk of hamburger
from the refrigerator, then rushed to the back door. The dog
looked up, startled and ready to bolt, when she opened the
door.
"Here, doggy . . . nice doggy," she called, holding a
handful of hamburger out.
The mongrel seemed uncertain and hesitant. It took a
step toward her, but then it stepped back again. She thought
that maybe it wasn't hungry. It didn't look thin . . . and it
had no idea, of course, what other treats Carla had in store
for it. It annoyed her that the dog didn't act eager, but she
tried not to show her feelings. It would annoy her more if,
sensing that she was annoyed, the mongrel ran off. She forced
a smile and called again in a friendly voice.
The dog began approaching her, wriggling all over, his
head lowered and his haunches raised and squirming. It did
seem to have some terrier blood in it, Carla thought, as it
came closer. It had those wedge-shaped jaws and broad chest.
It was a speckle-colored creature, tan and grey and beige,
the various hues all mixed up so that the markings had no
definition. It looked, she thought, as if it had been pushed
together out of drab modeling clay. Still, it would do in a
pinch. Carla hunker ed own, holding the meat out, smiling.
The dog came up warily.
It took the hamburger, wolfing it down.
Carla moved back, urging the dog to follow. "Good doggy.
Treats for doggies."
After a moment, wriggling all over, the mongrel followed
her into the house. When she closed the door, the dog looked
startled and peered around for an escape route. Carla
hunkered down again and held her hand out. The dog sniffed,
then licked her hand. She stroked it behind the ears and
under the throat. Losing its timidness, it began to tremble
with the pleasure of her caresses.
Carla took the dog into the living room.
She sat on the couch, and when she patted the cushion
beside her, the dog hopped up, then curled onto his side.
Carla looked under his belly, at his prick. She raised her
eyebrows. The dog didn't have a hard-on and it was hard to
judge the size of his cock. She reached down and began to
play with his balls.
The dog snapped rigid, looking surprised.
Then he began to whine.
Carla slid her hand up and down his hairy sheath, and
his pink pricktip came sliding out. She rubbed her thumb
against the sensitive underside of his elongated cockhead,
then skimmed her hand up and down the shaft, and the
mongrel's cock hardened and lengthened.
It was no collie prick, to be sure, but it was certainly
big enough to fuck her with.
But Carla had never fucked with such a small dog before,
and she wondered how she should go about it? He had short,
bowed legs. She didn't think he would be able to manage to
mount her in the doggy position, even if she lowered her ass
right down as far as she could. Nor was he long enough to
mount her as she sat on the edge of the couch, with his
hindfeet on the floor. She continued to play with his prick
while she considered other positions and, in the end, she
decided that there was nothing for it but to use the dog as
if he were a dildo or a vibrator. She could hold him between
her legs while he humped her.
By this time, the mongrel's cock was pounding away like
a jackhammer, and his balls were swollen. Carla stood up to
take her panties off. The dog whimpered as she abandoned his
prick. She doubted that he had ever fucked with a woman
before be cause he seemed confused, but she knew he would
fuck her with gusto, once his cock was up her cunt and he got
the idea.
She tugged her soaking panties down.
The mongrel sniffed and whined.
She drew her skirt up above her waist, then sat down
again. The dog was sitting up on his haunches now, his flanks
going in and out like a furry bellows as he panted, his
tongue hanging out from the corner of his triangular jaw.
It looked like a very efficient tongue.
Carla lifted him, and she placed him between her legs.
He might not have ever encountered a human pussy before, but
the mongrel obviously knew what a hot cunt was. He dipped his
snout down and began to lap merrily away at her flooded
pussy.
Carla purred, her hips working like pistons.
The dog's tongue was delving right up inside her fuck
hole, lapping her juicy inner cunt lips, then slurping across
her turbulent clit as it trembled out the top of her pussy
crack.
The brunette was tempted to keep him lapping away until
her pussy creamed. But she was really more in the mood for
prick than tongue, at the moment, and Carla reasoned that she
would enjoy getting fucked far more while she was still in a
state of sexual desperation, before she had a climax on his
tongue.
The mongrel seemed to be trying to push his blunt muzzle
right up inside her as he tongued away. His cold nose sent
electric pulsations running through her clit. She knew
that she would have a lovely orgasm, the moment the
sturdy little brute began to slide his prick in and out of
her cunt. She was reluctant to drag him away from the feast
he seemed to be enjoying so greatly, but it was all in a good
cause. She let him give her a last, parting slurp, then
lifted him.
The dog cocked his head.
His tongue lolled out, the pink surface slathered with
rivulets of cuntjuice and saliva.
Carla placed his hindfeet on the couch, between her
widespread thighs. Holding him by the haunches with one hand,
she took his cock in her other hand and moved it into her
crotch. It wasn't long enough to really stuff her, she knew,
but it would zip in and out vigorously, running across her
tingling clit, making her come. Then it would squirt a lovely
load of hot jism up her melting pussy.
She moved his cockhead up and down against her clit for
a second, before she guided it into her fuck hole.
And the dog shot his load!
Hot cum came spurting out of his cockhead and skimmed
through her pubic thicket, slid up her belly and splashed
into the cleavage between her tits. A slimy river ran right
up into the hollow of her throat. A jet soaked one stiff
nipple. Carla had stopped stroking the mongrel's cockmeat,
but once his orgasm had begun, it kept right on going off,
dose after dose of dog juice washing her belly and tits.
Then he stopped shooting.
For a moment, his prick remained rigid.
Then, to Carla's horror; his cock began to diminish and
soften and retreat back into his loins.
"Oh, no!" she gasped.
A human premature ejaculator was bad enough. . . but a
dog?
In desperation, she stroked and fondled his prick,
fingering the rubbery knob and stroking up the stalk.
It did no good at all.
The mongrel's cockmeat retracted into his belly and the
hairy sheath pushed up to cover the head and, despite her
fondling, there was no tension left at all. His prick had
gone completely slack and his balls had collapsed into an
empty bag.
The dog looked sheepish.
Just like Sam had done.
Carla stared at him in burning frustration, looking down
the slope of her arched body. She was coated with cum from
the vee of her crotch, up through her cleavage, and over her
throat. It had been a good load, hot and creamy and abundant,
just the sort of load that she had wanted hosing her cunt.
And it had been wasted.
She wondered if she could make him hard again if she
licked his cock.
But there was nothing to lick.
The soft, hairy sheath had completely hidden the knob
now. Leaning down, she blew on his cock and balls. It was
pointless. Only a thin nubbin of hairy rod remained.
Carla sighed with dismay.
Well, she thought, at least the dumb dog isn't as bad as
that fucking Sam. At least he likes to lick pussy. She had
to get her rocks off somehow. And if the mongrel wasn't
capable of a renewed erection, he would simply have to do the
job with his tongue.
She pushed the dog's head against her pussy.
She waited, trembling.
Nothing happened.
The dog was more like Sam than she had figured. When his
cock was stiff and his balls were full of cum, he had enjoyed
a snack on her tasty cunt. But now that he had been drained
and gone soft, the mongrel had no interest in lapping a cunt.
Carla wailed in despair.
She grasped the mongrel by the neck and moved his muzzle
around in her creamy cunt.
"Lap, damn you!" she cried. "Lick it!"
But he kept his jaws clenched and his tongue refused to
come out, and Carla realized, to her sorrow, that she was not
going to get an orgasm out of either end of the dumb animal.
After awhile, she gave up and released the brute.
He hopped down from the couch and trotted over to the
door, his tail between his legs, as if he knew that he had
somehow failed in this meeting between the species, yet not
having the heart to perform now that his balls had been
emptied. He stood at the door, waiting. Carla sighed and got
up, her pussy simmering and steaming. She guessed she might
as well let the stupid mutt out. It was just her luck that
the fucking useless brute would shit on the carpet.
When she opened the door, the dog trotted out, never
looking back as he bolted across the backyard, then
disappeared. Carla shook her head. Wasn't that just like a
male?
And now what was she going to do?
Where was that collie? Where was anyone? Carla was in
such a state by this time that she couldn't even go out to a
bar and get picked up. She was afraid that she would just
cream her panties. Although she was never a modest sort of
girl, she knew it would be mortifying to be sitting on a bar
stool and suddenly start to pant and whimper and have
everyone see pussy juice running down her legs.
Carla guessed she would have to fingerfuck herself a few
times to take the pressure off. She hated the idea of a
solitary orgasm, but she saw no other solution.
Then Molly drove up.
Chapter 11
"Are you alone?" Molly asked as she stood on the
doorstep.
"Yes . . . come on in," said Carla.
It was possible that never in the history of mankind had
there been two such hot cunts in the same place at the same
time. If cunts had been made of uranium, their two seething
pussies would have reached critical mass and set off a
nuclear explosion.
They went into the living room, both squishing as they
walked.
"Want a drink?" asked Carla.
"Okay."
There was a certain tension between them, as if both
sensed the other's raging need, a speculative and hopeful
nervousness.
Carla made them each a gin and tonic.
She sat opposite Molly.
Her soaking panties were still on the floor, where she'd
tossed as she readied her cunt for the mongrel. She wondered
if Molly had noticed them. Automatically, her knees parted
slightly, just in case Molly wanted to look at her cunt.
Molly had noticed the panties.
But she assumed that Carla had brought Sam home and
fucked him in the living room and that, therefore, Carla
would be satisfied.
"Well?" Carla asked.
"I . . . I wanted your advice."
"Oh? About what?"
"Well . . . gee, I don't know how to begin." Molly
looked flustered, her blue eyes darting nervously. "Carla, I
drove down to my husband's office this afternoon. I . . .
well, I was feeling horny, you see. And Jake was working
late. So I thought I'd surprise him at the office . . . and
get laid there, on the couch."
Carla, who understood such things, smiled.
"But I saw him fucking his secretary!" Molly blurted
out.
"What?"
"On top of his desk!"
"The swine!" Carla exclaimed.
"I just didn't know what to do. He doesn't know that I
saw him, and I don't. know if I should tell him, or just let
it go or what. That's why I wanted your advice."
Carla considered for a moment.
So Molly was horny, too, was she?
Carla didn't give a damn if Molly's husband cheated on
her or not, but she viewed the situation with self-interest.
it definitely held interesting possibilities.
She figured that it might be a good idea to get the
conversation around to cuntsucking. "Well, I don't know what
you'll think of the idea, but I'll tell you what I did when I
caught my husband fooling around one time. I wouldn't let him
fuck me for a month."
"Oh! But that's sort of like cutting off your nose to
spite your face, isn't it?" Molly protested. Denying Jake
pussy was the last thing that she wanted.
"Not exactly. You see, I wouldn't let him fuck me, but I
made him suck my cunt twice a day. Oh, how horny the bastard
would get, lapping away like crazy and not getting anything
for himself. He pleaded and begged. He said he'd even settle
on a handjob. But I wouldn't give him a damned thing until
the whole month was up. That sure cured his roving eye!" She
paused significantly. "And I do love to get my pussy sucked
off, too."
But Molly didn't take the hint . . . yet.
Molly said: "That was a clever idea . . . but it
probably won't work for me, though. If I don't let Jake fuck
me, he'll probably just fuck his damned secretary all the
more often."
"Ummm. . . well, have you thought about getting even
with him? Fucking some other guy?"
Carla was surprised when Molly blushed a bright red.
Molly started to speak, then faltered, her eyed
downcast, the blush spreading up from her throat to her
cheeks. Carla wondered what on earth had embarrassed the
blonde girl. Surely, the mere thought of committing adultery
shouldn't have had such an effect on her?
"That . . . that was something else I wanted to tell
you," Molly stammered. "I mean . . . I shouldn't tell anyone,
because it's very naughty, but I want to tell you and. . .
oh, dear! I was very, very dumb."
"You mean you have cheated on Jake, already?" Carla
asked.
"No. I mean, yes. I mean . . .1 don't know if it was
cheating or not, Carla. It depends on the definition.
"What on earth are you talking about?" asked Carla,
mystified by Molly's words and behavior.
Molly took a deep breath.
"It was all your fault!" she wailed.
"What in hell do you mean?"
"All that talk about . . . about dogs."
"What? You don't mean . . ."
Molly gave a little nod. "I'm afraid so."
Carla began to grin, pleased to discover that her friend
had shared that particular perversion.
"It happened this afternoon, just after I left you in
the cocktail lounge," Molly explained. "There was a bitch in
heat in the garden, and a couple big dogs were chasing her.
Normally, I wouldn't have thought anything about it, but
after all those things that you'd been telling me earlier . .
. well
"You fucked a dog?" Carla asked eagerly.
Molly saw that Carla was not shocked. Far from it. She
was surprised by the confession, but she looked delighted.
Molly took heart from Carla's reactions.
She even managed a shy smile as she said: "Even worse,
really. I called both dogs into house."
"Oooooh! You fucked both of them?"
"Well, no. Only the boxer fucked me. But oh, I really am
so crazy . . . I blew both of them!"
"My God!" Carla exclaimed.
"Is that awfully disgusting?" Molly asked.
"Not at all," Carla reassured her.
"It was kind of yummy," Molly said, and giggled.
"I didn't mention it before-I thought it might shock
you-but I enjoy a mouthful of dog prick, too, once in awhile.
Sucking their cock makes them nice and hard for fucking."
"Yeah, but I let both of them shoot in my mouth."
"Molly. . . I'm proud of you!" Carla gasped
enthusiastically.
Molly smiled demurely, graciously accepting the
compliment. "But that's why I was so horny, why I went to my
husband's office. See, after the boxer had fucked me, I
sucked both dogs off and got all hot again. And now I'm still
so damned hot, and I don't know what to do about it."
"Funny you should mention that," said Carla, springing
the velvet trap. "Because I'm horny, too."
"You? But didn't that guy from the bar-"
"The bastard was a premature ejaculator and he wouldn't
even go down on me after he got his rocks off!"
"How cruel!" Molly exclaimed.
"And that's not all. When I got home, there was this
damned mongrel in the yard. So I called him in and gave him
some hamburger, then played with his prick . . . and the
fucking dog turned out to be a premature ejaculator, too!
It's left me with a hot pussy and a terrible headache!"
The two horny girls studied each other.
They were both thinking the same thing, and they both
knew they were thinking the same thing, but which one of them
was going to make the welcome suggestion?
Carla figured that Molly was too shy to take the
initiative, no matter how interested she was. She thought she
might even be too shy to respond to an open suggestion from
Carla. It was the sort of thing that you had to work up to
gradually.
Carla stood up.
She lifted her dress all the way up above her tits.
"Look at all the jism that damned mongrel wasted by
coming before he was in my cunt!" she said.
She shot one hip out saucily, letting Molly admire her
sexy body with the excuse of looking at the dog cum. When she
finally lowered her dress, she was gratified to see that
Molly was nervously licking her lips and that a hungry look
had come into her sexy blue eyes.
Carla moved over and sat beside Molly on the couch.
Molly's throat worked. She was sweating.
"Have you brushed your teeth since the dogs came in your
mouth?" Carla wanted to know.
Molly shook her head.
"Let me see. Stick your tongue out."
Molly did so. Carla looked at the pink tip and then,
grinning wickedly, leaned over and took Molly's tongue into
her mouth, sucking on it. Molly began to pant.
"Ummm, yeah, you weren't lying," Carla said. "I can
still taste dog jism on your tongue."
Molly giggled.
"Want to taste some mongrel cum?" Carla asked.
"All right," Molly whispered.
Carla drew her dress up again. The dog's jism had
congealed all over her belly and tits. She arched her back,
pushing upwards. Molly leaned over her and licked at her
stomach and belly. The cum liquified again as her hot tongue
bathed it. She lapped it up.
"It tastes better when you drink it straight out of a
dog's prick," she said, sampling the second-hand jism on her
tastebuds. She lapped some more, drooling, her frothy saliva
coating Carla's shimmering belly. She tongued a pool from her
belly button.
"There's more of it on my tits," Carla panted.
It was all the invitation that Molly required. She began
to run her tongue around the brunette's smooth tit globes and
up her deep, cum-smeared cleavage. She sucked a stiff nipple
into her lips.
"Ummm," she purred.
It was the first tit that Molly had ever mouthed, and
she saw instantly why men always enjoyed doing it. Carla's
nipple gnarled up in her lips. She sucked gently, nursing on
the tasty nugget of flesh. After a while, she raised her head
and gazed into Carla's eyes.
"Maybe I should lap some cum from you, now," Carla
whispered.
Molly knew damned well what Carla meant.
But she feigned innocence.
"But you've already sucked it from my tongue," she said.
"And the dogs didn't shoot on my belly."
Carla was laughing, delighted. by the blonde's faked
innocence. Then she stopped laughing and a glint of hot
passion lighted her jade-green eyes. Her tongue slid across
her lips.
"Shall I suck it from your cunt?" she asked.
"Oh! Oh, Carla, would you?" whimpered Molly.
"Um-hum."
"Will you . . . will you do it until I come?"
"Oh, yes, Molly, I'll suck you off," Carla said. "I know
how it is to need an orgasm."
"I . . . I'll suck you off, if you'll do me!" Molly
volunteered. Then, getting carried away by the situation and
no longer feeling any need to act the naive innocent, Molly
leaned closer. "Oh, Carla . . . I do want to lap you pussy
until you cream!"
This, thought naughty Carla, is a very handy
arrangement.
She began undressing Molly. When she had removed her
friend's blouse, she spent some time sucking on her tits and
kissing her while her hands roved all over the blonde's ripe,
nubile body, caressing and fondling. Then she took Molly's
skirt off and drew her panties down slowly, exposing her
golden vee and steaming cunt little by little. When Molly was
naked, Carla sat back on her heels, holding the blonde's
panties in her hand. She brought them to her mouth and began
to lick the sodden crotchband, staring at Molly as she did
so.
"Ummm . . . your cuntjuice is delicious," Carla purred.
"There's more where that came from," Molly said, and she
arched her back and spread her thighs, pushing her cunt up as
if it were a meal served on a hairy tray.
Carla tossed the panties aside.
She went down on Molly and began to dine.
Carla might not have been a lesbian, but she could suck
cunt with the best of them! She used her tongue and lips
skillfully, paying attention to the details, concentrating on
the sensitive points, giving the blonde all the pleasure that
she could, and enjoying the succulent snack as she did so.
Molly was so overheated that she creamed almost immediately.
But Carla kept right on lapping away and soon had the blonde
surging up to a second climax. Cuntjuice, flavored with boxer
cum, poured over Carla's nimble tongue, and she swallowed it
down eagerly. Through the misty haze of her own ecstasy,
Molly did not fail to notice how much Carla was enjoying
eating her cunt. The blonde was looking forward to doing some
pussy lapping, herself. Her tongue seemed to be getting as
tingly and hot as her clit.
"Come . . . come for me, baby," Carla whimpered, the
words muffled right up Molly's juice pussy, so that she felt
them as well as heard them. "Cream in my mouth, Molly,
honey."
Molly's cunt melted again.
She sprawled back along the couch, panting. Carla
continued to tongue away for awhile, to make sure that she
had worked out every spasm of Molly's pleasure and milked out
every precious drop of the sexy blonde's tasty pussy juice.
When she raised her head, her lips were glistening with
cream.
"Nice?" she whispered.
"Oh, Carla . . . yes!"
Carla raised an eyebrow, and Molly grinned.
"Now it's your turn," said Carla.
Molly didn't mind at all.
Carla spread her lean, trembling thighs, and Molly slid
between them, gazing at her juicy cunt. It was gaping open,
her pussy lips unfurled, her fuck slot flooded with cream.
Carla's clit stood out from her juicy cunt crack like a
little man in a boat. Molly paused before she began to suck
her first-ever pussy, but it was not from reluctance or any
last second misgivings or inhibitions. She was merely
savoring the expectation and thrilling to the sight. Her
mouth was watering for her first taste. She looked up shyly
at Carla and grinned. Carla's eyes were narrowed, her cream-
smeared lips parted, her face a mask of passion. It would be
wonderful to make the horny woman cream with her tongue,
Molly thought-and wonderful to be lapping that cream out of
her savory fuck slot, as well.
Molly spread Carla's cunt open even wider with her
fingertips and, leaning in, took her first lick.
It was even tastier than she had hoped.
She began tonguing joyfully up the brunette's pussy,
along her cuntlips, over her throbbing clit. Carla began to
churn and thrash about in ecstasy as that willing tongue
lapped her pussy. Then Molly fitted her lips to the woman's
parted cuntlips, tilting her head to the side, and she began
to suck eagerly. As her lips sucked, she stabbed her hot
tongue as far up the brunette's fuck hole as she would reach.
"Oooooh!" Carla wailed.
"Ummm," purred Molly.
With the very first lick, Molly had discovered that
sucking a cunt was every bit as good as having her own cunt
sucked, the sort of wonderful, mutual pleasure of which a
sexy girl dreams.
She began fingerfucking up Carla's cunt with three
stiff, bunched fingers, twisting them in as she sucked on her
swollen clit and tongued her flowing fuck slot.
"Oh! Oh, Molly . . . I'm gonna cream!" wailed Carla.
"Do it! Do it!" Molly squealed.
She sucked voraciously, and her tongue stabbed in a
frenzy and Carla's steaming cunt fluttered and creamed. As
cuntjuice gushed out, Molly swallowed her first female orgasm
and kept right on sucking, hoping that orgasm would endure
for a long time.
At long last, Carla stopped coming and purred with
contentment.
Molly gave her cunt a few last laps, then moved up,
curling into a loving embrace. The two horny women kissed,
both of their lips. tasting of each other's juices.
"Did you like it?" Carla asked.
"Ummmm . . . I loved sucking your cunt."
"Now that we've done it, maybe we can suck each other
off all the time, okay?"
"I'd like that," Molly agreed. But then she frowned. "I
did adore sucking you, Carla, but I still feel like some big,
stiff prick!"
"Yeah, cuntsucking does give a girl that urge," Carla
agreed.
And at that very moment, there came a scratching on the
door.
Chapter 12
The big collie had not shown up at Carla's house earlier
because he was being punished for being a very bad doggy. The
collie's mistress was a confirmed spinster named Mabel who
kept the dog to protect her from rapists. Mabel was a virgin,
an d she had an idea that rapists lurked in every alley and
behind every tree. She wouldn't have had to be a spinster, in
fact, because she was not a bad looking woman with a lovely
ass, but she was afraid of men and, specifically, their
cocks.
Mabel refused to wed because she was afraid that her
husband might rape her, and she didn't think a wife could
have her lawfully wedded spouse arrested for rape. The collie
must be serving his purpose, Mabel thought, since she had not
yet been approached by a rapist, let alone raped.
She had no idea, of course, that her sexy neighbor down
the street had been fucking her dog.
And, therefore, she had no idea that the collie, having
sampled human cunt, had learned a new trick.
But the dog had acquired a taste for women's pussies.
That morning, just after getting out of the bath and
stark naked, Mabel had begun to do her exercises. She
exercised regularly so that she would be fit enough to fight
off a rapist, or fleet enough to outrun him, and she was in
good shape . . . especially that nice ass.
She was bending over from the waist, touching her toes.
When the dog realized that his mistress was assuming a
modified doggy fuck position, he naturally got a hard-on.
Mabel was amazed when the brute mounted her.
She felt his forelegs lock around her hips as she
touched her toes. When he threw her off balance, she caught
herself with both hands open on the floor. A moment later,
the dog had plowed his fat prick right up her cherry cunt!
Mabel wailed out a protest.
But it was too late. As she trembled under him, the
collie whipped his cock meat in and out and, before the
startled woman quite realized what was happening, a splash of
hot jism poured up her cunt.
She was furious.
Raped! And by her own dog!
She had punished the dumb brute by tying him up in the
backyard while she tried to decide what to do about him. At
first, Mabel figured she would have to get rid of him, before
he took advantage of her again. But after awhile, she got
thinking about it and had to admit that it had felt awfully
nice to have that fat dog prick slamming up her cunt. Maybe
it wasn't exactly a case of rape, at that, she reasoned.
Maybe it was only rape with a human. Then, to, if she were to
give her doggy some cunt once in awhile, he would no doubt be
more faithful, if only because he was possessive about her
pussy, and more determined to protect her from the evil men
who lurked in the shadows, pricks ready to strike.
So it was that Mabel convinced herself that getting
fucked by her dog was not a half bad idea and would add to
her sense of security . . . and she decided to have the
collie throw another vigorous fuck up her cunt right away.
She powdered and perfumed her pussy.
She went to the backyard to bring the dog in.
And, to her dismay, she found that the collie had chewed
through his lead and was nowhere to be seen.
She had no idea where he had gone.
He had gone, of course, to visit Carla.
Carla and Molly looked at each other excitedly when they
heard scratching at the back door, followed by, a moment
later, an unmistakably canine whine.
"I think that we're in luck!" Carla exclaimed.
"You don't mind sharing him?" Molly asked.
"Not with a sweet cuntlapper like you," said Carla, and
she gave Molly a kiss on the lips, then leaned down to plant
an affectionate kiss on her pussy, as well. The scratching
was becoming louder and more demanding, and the dog began to
yelp.
Carla went to let him in.
The big dog bounded into the front room, and Molly's
eyes lighted up when she saw that he was bigger than the
boxer or the black Doberman, and that his giant prick was
already semi-hard as it swung like a baton under his belly.
He looked like a wolf, she thought. She wondered if a wolf
pack ever raped a girl before they devoured her. Or devoured
her crotch-first, with their long, rasping tongues, lapping
up her pussy.
The dog noticed Molly and cocked his head.
Whenever he'd been there before, Carla had been alone,
and this change in the routine rather worried the dog. He
didn't know if human bitches fucked in public or not. But he
did notice that this new, blonde bitch was naked, like Carla,
and that her pussy had the same spicy, overheated scent. He
walked over to her, then pushed his snout into her cunt,
taking a tentative lap. It was tasty. When she didn't push
him away, but opened her legs wider, he lapped some more.
"I see he likes you," Carla said.
"Oh, he's adorable. What's his name?"
"I don't know. He belongs to a woman down the street.
But I called him Paws." She grinned. "The Paws that
refreshes."
Molly thought that was a corny joke, but she had to
admit that the collie's tongue was very refreshing as it
delved up her fuck slot, and his cock looked like it would
refresh those depths of her cunt that other cocks could not
reach.
Carla came over, and she knelt beside the dog.
Reaching under him, she began to pull his prick, as if
she were milking a cow. Molly tilted her head to the side to
watch the dog's cock grow and harden. The collie continued to
tongue her cunt, and his prick came out like a telescope,
longer and longer, the fat wedge of the knob flaring out from
his cockshaft. It was a thrilling sight. Although she'd come
very nicely in Carla's talented mouth, Molly felt the surge
of renewed need rising in her pussy.
"Shall I fuck him first?" she asked, hopefully.
Carla grinned and nodded.
The dog, who understood the word fuck, cocked his head
and began to ripple all through his powerful body. Molly was
going to get down on the floor, on all fours. She supposed
that when you fucked with a dog, you were obliged to do it
doggy fashion. But the collie suddenly hopped up, his
forelegs on the couch, straddling Molly's hips and his big
cock looming out over her belly. Molly saw instantly that
they would be able to link up face to face. Somehow, doing it
human fashion seemed more perverted than doing in animal
style. More interesting, too, because of that. She watched
his cockhead flare like a torch as it stood rampant and
vibrant before her. It looked so delicious that she simply
had to have a taste, even though it embarrassed her a little
to do that in front of Carla. She bent her head down and
began to lap his cockhead, then slurped the meaty slab into
her mouth.
Carla looked on with total approval.
Molly mouthed the collie's prickmeat for awhile, then
drew her lips away. His cock was a tasty mouthful, and the
idea of swallowing his cum was not unattractive, but the girl
had already drunk plenty of dog jism today, and she was more
interested in getting fucked.
Carla wrapped her fist around the root of the dog's
prick, and she drew him lower, placing his knob in Molly's
fuck slot. As soon as he felt hot pussy on the end of his
cock, the collie knew just what to do. His hindquarters
bunched with muscle, he paused, quivering, for a moment, then
he rammed the length of his black prick up Molly's pussy.
Molly wailed with the joy of it.
The collie began to pour the prick to her with gusto.
Molly pumped her hips wildly, meeting his thrusts, shoving
her cunt down onto his huge cock as it plowed in. The blonde
didn't know if collies fucked better than boxers, or if it
was better doing it face to face, but she was enjoying this
fucking more than her previous canine coupling. She pushed
one hip down, then the other, angling her pelvis, arching her
back, writhing on his long prick.
Carla was licking the dog's balls, holding his bushy
tail up and lapping away as the bloated sac swung back and
forth. The tight-fitting prick was pumping cuntjuice out of
Molly's cunt. The hot fluids sprayed into Carla's face. Molly
began to moan with an approaching climax, and the collie
whacked his prick in faster as his own bestial lust rose up
toward the crest of ejaculation.
His jism hosed her cunt in a steaming deluge.
Crying out in ecstasy, Molly creamed with the spurting
dog, her pussy juice gushing out to mix with his cum.
After awhile, the collie slowed. His balls were
momentarily drained. But when he drew his fat cock out of
Molly, it was still stiff. Molly's pussy sucked on his
prickmeat as he retracted it, and the knob slipped from her
cunt with a hollow, slurping sound. His big cock swayed up
and down, still rampant, dripping with cum and juice. Carla,
her green eyes sparking, leaned in and took the dog's prick
into her mouth, hungrily sucking jism and cuntjuice from the
knob.
His balls began to fill up again immediately. Carla was
more than ready to have her cunt stuffed full of dog prick
now, but that taste of cockmeat and cum and cuntjuice had
whetted her appetite, too. She wanted some at both ends. She
took willing Molly by the hand, drawing her down to the
floor. Molly wasn't sure what they were going to be doing,
but she was damned sure that, whatever it was, she was going
to enjoy it.
She lay on her back, ready for anything.
Carla threw a knee across and mounted Molly in the
position of sixty-nine. Burying her head between Molly's
thighs, she began to suck her friend's cum-filled cunt
eagerly. Then she lowered her crotch into Molly's eager,
upturned face. Molly was licking the air even before that
creamy snack had descended upon her. The two horny girls
began to lick each other's cunt with vigor.
The collie studied the situation for a moment.
This was new to him. But Carla, mounted on Molly, was
certainly in the right position for a doggy fuck, and the way
her ass was grinding around inspired the brute. He mounted
Carla's churning haunches, his forelegs hooked around her
hips, and slammed his cockmeat into her cunt.
Molly gave a little gasp when she realized that the cunt
she was sucking was full of dog cock at the same time.
The collie's balls dragged down her face as he pushed
his prick into Carla's fuckhole. Molly licked Carla's clit
and watched the dog's fat prick vanish in her pussy, then
draw back out, slathered with pussy nectar. Carla's cuntlips
clung and dragged on the dog's retreating cockmeat, pulling
out with it, then got stuffed right up into her cunt as he
whammed his prick back in. Pussyjuice splashed in Molly's
face. She began to tongue Carla's cuntlips and to push her
tongue into the woman's fuckhole alongside the collie's cock.
When he pulled out, his cockhead appeared, and Molly tongued
some dog meat along with pussy. Then she parted her lips,
fitting them at the point of contact, so that the dog's cock
was running through her mouth en route to Carla's cunt.
Molly began to whimper as her pussy sparked in an electric
spasm on Carla's talented tongue. Then Carla wailed as her
own climax ripped through her, inspired by a cuntful of cock
and tongue together.
The collie squirted his cum into Carla's pussy.
As the blended juices poured out in a steaming river,
Molly greedily sucked them up and swallowed them.
Together, two girls and a dog, they ground against one
another until the last spasms of their mutual pleasure had
passed.
They uncoupled slowly.
Molly wondered what they would do next.
Carla and Molly were playing with each other's cunts
while they waited for the collie's prick to harden again. It
didn't look like they would have long to wait. It was already
jolting into a new hard-on.
Suddenly, Molly smiled.
"I've just decided what to do about my unfaithful
husband!" she announced. "I'm going to ask him to buy me a
dog . . . to keep me company when he's working late at the
office!"
"What a good idea! What kind of dog?"
Molly considered.
"A bitch, I think," she said.
Carla gave her a queer look.
"Gee, you aren't going to turn lesbian, are you?" she
asked. Even Carla was scandalized by the thought of dyking a
bitch.
But Molly grinned.
"Why, no, but a bitch in heat will bring whole packs of
dogs home," she explained. "Instead of having just one dog of
my own, I can have all the variety I want."
"What a clever girl you are!" Carla said.
Carla was a frequent visitor at Molly's house after
that. Molly never complained when her husband worked late
and, between them. they fucked their way through the canine
kingdom.
The End
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