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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Angela's Diary - 2
by Senor Smut (senorsmut@gmail.com)
***
The continuing story of Angela, the housewife led into
debauchery by her own lusts and the manipulations of
her teenage son. (F/m-teen, ped, inc, beast)
***
Chapter Four
May 10
I woke up early on Saturday. I'd spent the night having
dreams that I couldn't really remember when I woke up
except I knew that they involved Charlie and David and
Brandy and Petra, my sister Sue, a couple of neighbors
and a few friends I expected to see tonight, and they
were erotic. I woke up needing to cum. I lay in my bed
listening to Tim and Charlie breathing and feeling my
pussy wet, my nipples hard, and my whole body tense.
And I woke up knowing that I'd dreamed about sex with
my son.
It was that last one that was the real problem. Erotic
dreams are great in my book, but when I dreamed about
fucking David and woke up horny I knew I had a real
crisis. What had been happening in my life, and what he
was doing to me, was absolutely horrible. I needed to
find a way to make it stop, not dream about more of it.
I woke up feeling guilty, dirty, and nasty and
somehow, those feelings only made me hornier, at least
on some level.
That, of course, just made me more disgusted with
myself so that a few minutes after I woke up I felt
like I wanted to puke. I threw the covers back and
Charlie raised his head, looking at me expectantly.
"Yep, let's go outside," I whispered, and he was off
the bed in a flash and at the bedroom door, and a few
seconds later racing down the stairs ahead of me. He
was prancing around by the time I got to the back door,
and when I opened it he took off like a flash to
explore the yard. It's not like we've got a big yard or
anything, but Charlie definitely sees it as his domain
and he likes to keep tabs on it. And God help the
squirrel he catches.
I followed him outside just in my long nightgown and
the (sensible) panties I had on underneath it. The dew
on the patio felt chilly beneath my bare feet, but I
barely noticed. I was lost in thought, so lost that I
hardly even remarked on the lovely sunrise or the
growing warmth that promised a beautiful day. I was
much too troubled to take much note of that kind of
thing. I used the hem of my gown to wipe the dew off
one of our patio chairs and sat down to watch Charlie
sniff everything in sight. He was so simple, so
happy...and I was so fucked up.
I sighed heavily and looked up into the sky that was
quickly growing lighter. There was typical morning haze
but other than that it was clear and I could see up
into the fading blue where the last few stars were
lingering. The moon had already set and it was
peaceful, tranquil. The neighborhood was quiet. The
neighbors were still asleep. For a moment I could
pretend that I was alone and that I didn't have any
problems, that my son wasn't a black cloud over my head
and that my life wasn't spinning out of control
I felt a heavy canine head land on my lap, and I looked
down to see Charlie with his jaw resting on my thigh,
looking up at me with his huge, irresistible brown eyes
and silently pleading to be petted. Who was I to say
no?
His fur felt wonderful under my hand. He was warm and
soft, and as I stroked my hand back along his neck I
could feel his warmth, his strength, his solidity. "My
friend," I whispered with a smile, and his silky tail
thumped. "You'd never hurt me, would you? You'd never
abandon me, or make me do anything I didn't want to do.
You'd never be cruel to me. You're my perfect friend."
He was my lover.
The thought brought me up short, but only a little.
Maybe I was getting used to it by now, I don't know.
Yes it was still a little shocking, but it was also so
damned right, like nothing I'd ever felt before, and it
was so obviously something that I needed, and had
always needed, that I knew I wouldn't be able to stop
him from touching me again... and when I closed my eyes
and thought about that red, slick-looking cock he had,
I knew I wouldn't be able to stop myself from touching
him, either.
I let my mind drift back to that image, the way his
heavy balls swung and the way his cock was pointed and
hard and glistening, and I wondered what it would feel
like in my hand. Would it be hot? Would it be slippery?
Could I feel his heartbeat through it the way I could
through a man's cock (like David's, my mind reminded
me)? Could I put my lips around it, take it into my
mouth and give him the same pleasure he gave me? What
would his cum taste like?
Would he fuck me?
I shivered at the thought and felt my pussy spasm as I
pulled his head close. It was the first time I had ever
let myself imagine that, and it instantly made me
terrifically aroused. I could feel my nipples poking
against the thin cotton of my gown and I could feel my
panties getting wet almost with the thought. I gasped
aloud at the way it made me feel, at the sheer erotic
power the concept held for me. Would he? If I...if I
offered myself to him, would he take me? Would he make
me his? Would he put that beautiful red cock inside me?
Would he fight to get to me the same way he had fought
to get to Nosey?
Charlie must have smelled me then with that incredibly
nose of his, because his head moved and, as I opened my
eyes he pushed his snout up under my gown, his furry
shoulders trying to spread my legs.
I looked about and saw nothing but closed drapes and
sleeping houses. It wasn't even 5:00 AM on a Saturday,
the whole neighborhood was asleep. The whole STATE was
asleep. I knew that I shouldn't be doing this in
public, where anyone could see, but we had a high
privacy fence and there was no sign of life in any of
the second-story windows.
I opened my legs and hiked up my robe. As I slouched in
the seat to present my pussy to Charlie, I pulled the
crotch of my panties aside to bare myself to him. And I
let him lick me.
Charlie had no hesitation. He knew what to do now and
he did it, his nose pressing hard into my clit and his
huge, flat tongue pushing up inside of me. I had to
bite my lip to keep from crying out. It was simply
perfect. It was what I needed and who I needed it from,
and I let him take me to the place he wanted to take
me. I came in just a few minutes, a small but wonderful
release that made me feel calm and relaxed and
purposeful, and I did it quietly enough that I didn't
wake a soul. A couple of minutes later I was back
inside, Charlie at my feet as I brewed the morning
coffee.
Tim was the first one up, of course. He's always been
the early bird, unlike me, and he was surprised to find
me up and moving around before him. "Good morning," he
said brightly as he crossed the kitchen to put a kiss
on my cheek. "What gets you out of bed at this hour?"
"Bad dreams," I lied. It was getting easier to lie the
more I did it, something I didn't like.
"They don't seem to have lingered," he told me as he
leaned against the counter. "You're positively glowing
now."
I blushed a bit at the remembrance of Charlie putting
that glow on my cheeks, but I covered it with a laugh.
"And I get more beautiful every day, right?"
"It's not a clichι if it's true!" he protested,
laughing with me.
"Yes it is," I replied, sticking my tongue out at him
playfully. The thing was, I did feel beautiful. The
lover I had always needed had just made me cum and I
felt fantastic. I was still buzzing from the orgasm and
the gloom from my dreams and what was hanging over me
was dispelled, at least for the moment. I took a sip of
coffee and asked, "Are you going to the gym right
away?"
"Same old Saturday routine," Tim nodded. "Except I'm
meeting Jorge for a working lunch afterward."
I nodded Tim usually worked a part day on Saturday
(or so I thought at the time). "So you won't be around
to help me cook for the party, you slacker."
"Riiiiiiiight," he laughed, cupping my ass
affectionately and giving a squeeze. "Like you'd let me
anywhere near the kitchen if I was around here anyway.
I learned better years ago."
I slapped his hard belly a light slap and he oofed
playfully. "When are you going to be back?"
"Around one," he replied. "Maybe a little earlier,
maybe a little later."
"Hence the use of the word 'around,'" I pointed out
with in deadpan.
"Hence indeed," he agreed, and we both smiled. We spent
the next 20 minutes or so chatting, just about stuff,
and then he went off to work out. I watched some
morning news, sitting on the sofa drinking my coffee as
I petted Charlie's head, and then went into the kitchen
in time to make breakfast for Laurel she gets up the
same time every day, school days, weekends, holidays,
summer, it doesn't matter. You can set your clock by
her.
"Mom!" she said as she came into the kitchen. "What are
you doing up?"
"Making your breakfast," I replied, carrying a plate of
cut fruit for us to put on our cereal. "The toast will
be ready in a second."
She eyed me suspiciously. "OK, you're never up before
eight on Saturdays. What gives?"
I put my hands on my hips. "It's not that I'm NEVER up
before eight on Saturdays"
Laurel gave me a get-real stare and said, "Mom. You are
NEVER up before eight on Saturdays."
"Well I'm up before eight today, and this is a
Saturday," I pointed out with a smile. "So I'm right,
you're wrong, and I win."
She smiled as she took her seat, and in a moment we
were dining magnificently on Whole Grain Cheerios with
strawberries and toast. She was excited about the party
this afternoon and it showed, because it was just about
her first topic of conversation. "So what are we going
to make for tonight?"
"I'm making my three bean salad," I said, and she
interjected a "Yummy" as I went on. "And I'm going to
make potato salad."
"The white one or the yellow one?"
"The white one."
"Good," she nodded. "The yellow one has too much
mustard. Can I help?"
"If you want," I said, smiling hugely. She liked to do
things more with Tim than with me, but cooking was one
area where her heart was still mine.
"Cool," she said cheerfully. "Let's start right away!"
And so we did, setting to peeling and boiling potatoes
and chopping onions with gusto. We laughed a lot, cried
because of the onions, and generally had a fantastic
Saturday morning. We were mostly done by 11:50 when
David finally came downstairs, dressed in baggy shorts
and an oversized tee shirt. He'd already showered and
looked ready to go out. He found me alone in the
kitchen Laurel had just gone off to the bathroom
and he came up behind me and squeezed my ass in much
the same way his father had hours before. "Hey sweets,"
he said cheerfully, ignoring the way I stiffened at his
touch. "Smells good. You cooking your bean salad? Gonna
leave some for me?"
"Sure, I can leave some home," I replied, stepping away
from his touch. He always liked my bean salad, so this
wasn't a surprise. He liked my potato salad too (though
he preferred the mustardy one his sister didn't like)
and I'd put some in the fridge for him.
"Good," he nodded, leaning up against the stove and
crossing his arms in front of him with fake casualness.
"Oh, I emailed you something, I want you to take a look
at it. And don't worry, it's not a movie starring you
or anything."
"OK, I'll take a look as soon as I get a chance, but
I'll be busy today getting ready for the party"
"I want you to take a look at it now." His posture was
still casual, but that was a command if I ever heard
one. I looked into his eyes and saw he was dead
serious, and after a moment I nodded. "Fine, I'll do it
as soon as Laurel gets back to watch the beans."
And that was how, a few minutes later, I wound up in
front of our laptop in the upstairs office, opening my
email. His message was on top and I opened it, only to
find something I didn't quite expect: a link that said
CLICK HERE, and a login ID and password. So I
clicked...
Oh Lord, what I found.
The first thing that came up was a picture of a woman
on all fours, naked, a look of absolute passion on her
face. Atop her was a beautiful brown German shepherd,
and even though the picture was taken from the front,
there was no doubt that the dog was fucking her. I
stared at it, eyes wide, mouth open, frozen in place.
The dog's fur was an incredible contrast to the woman's
skin dark where she was pale, hairy where she was
smooth and the way his forelegs were wrapped around
her waist and his tongue was hanging from his mouth was
erotic enough to make me as wet as the Mississippi
between my legs. But it was the expression on the
pretty woman's face that transfixed me.
I stared at it for an endless moment, seeing her eyes
tightly scrunched, her mouth open wide in a silent cry
of ecstasy, her whole expression one of lust and
abandon. *She knows,* my mind told me. *She knows what
it feels like to have a dog inside her. She knows what
I want to know, and what I need to find out.*
There was a member area login, and my fingers shook
like mad as I typed in the information. My heart was
going so fast that I was breathless and dizzy, my
vision was blurred, and I felt like my chest would
explode. I was so completely and utterly aroused that I
was almost orgasming without touching myself or seeing
any more but that single picture, and I held my breath
as the page loaded...
It was a wonderland. There were photos, stories, movies
MOVIES! all dedicated to women and dogs. All
dedicated to what I wanted and needed. I clicked on the
photos page and was treated to a series of pictures of
a cute, chubby bottle blonde being mounted and rutted
by a golden retriever. As I opened the first one my
hand was between my legs and inside my shorts, and I
was coming by the time I got to the third picture. My
orgasm continued in waves as I saw more pictures, as I
downloaded and scanned a couple of stories, as I
watched a movie of a woman sucking a magnificent,
hugely thick, scarlet cock of a big black dog.
I remember distinctly my first clear sight of an erect,
unsheathed dog cock: it looked enormous, powerful, and
so utterly masculine that I almost swooned from looking
at it. But it was the knot that held me transfixed; I
had never suspected the existence of such a thing, and
for a long moment I could look at nothing else but that
mammoth bulge. At first I wondered what it was for, but
then I remembered Laurel's casual mention of dogs
getting stuck together, and then, all at once, I knew.
My heart slammed into my breastbone so hard that I
almost passed out at the implication: dogs would mate
with human women, and if that knot would get stuck in
another dog, then it might get stuck in a woman too.
Charlie's knot might get stuck in me.
I don't even know how I kept from screaming out my
orgasm. It was so intense I thought my eyes were going
to fly out of my head. I held my breath, bit my lip so
hard that it bled a little, and howled my climax into
my mouth. My whole body shook and trembled like I was
having a seizure, and when it was done I could barely
do so much as move my finger to click on to the next
thing.
But I did click, and I kept looking at more and more,
clicking compulsively. I'm honestly not even sure what
I saw, because it's all a bit of a blur now; I think I
had cartoon bubbles coming out of the top of my head.
All I knew was that I was looking at something that
felt so phenomenally right that I couldn't even think
of turning away. I stared, rapt, touching myself, my
juices soaking through my shorts and onto the leather
desk chair, coming in a series of orgasms that were
small but thrilling and amazing and almost one right
after the last. I wanted so desperately to be IN those
pictures, those movies, and as I watched them it was no
struggle at all to imagine just that.
"Mom?" came Laurel's voice from downstairs. "Can you
come and mix up the salad?"
Shit! How long had I been there? I glanced down at the
clock on the computer and saw it was five minutes past
one! "I... yes, I'll be down in a second!" I called
out, my voice shaky and passion fogged. "Give me a
minute!"
"You OK?" she called up.
"Just a bit woozy," I replied as I deleted the browser
history and closed the computer down. "I was just lying
down."
"See? This is why you don't get up early on Saturdays!"
Laurel called up teasingly.
"Quiet, you!" I said, forcing a laugh as I stood up. My
shorts had soaked through from the crotch down onto my
ass! I was unsteady on my feet and felt dizzy, but I
forced myself into my bathroom, washed up, put on some
perfume to cover the lingering smell of my sex, and
changed clothes. I don't think I completely pulled
myself together because Laurel kept asking if I was OK,
and I know I was a little...out of it as we mixed up
the potato salad and the bean salad. Several times she
had to say something more than once because I didn't
hear it the first time, and I know some of my answers
didn't make much sense. I kept seeing the images from
the website flashing in front of my eyes and I was
incredibly horny in spite of an hour and a quarter
spent in continuous orgasm.
My daughter thought I was sick, and when Tim got home
at quarter to two, he thought the same thing. Both of
them made me go upstairs to lie down, which I did on
unsteady legs and with the most amazing thoughts of
Charlie running through my brain. The fact that he
followed with me and curled up on the bed at my feet
didn't make it any easier to control myself!
I few minutes later, as I was petting Charlie with my
foot and trying desperately to think of anything but
getting on all fours and letting him breed me, the door
to my bedroom swung open (without a preceding knock,
I'll add) to reveal David, who leaned against the jamb
with a smirk and once more crossed his arms in front of
him. He looked at me with that terribly superior smile
of his and said, happily, "You're sick."
That sent a flash of anger through me. "You're a fine
one to talk! The way you touch me and"
"No," he interrupted me, his tone patient and
patronizing. "You're physically sick, as in your too
sick to go to the party tonight."
I stiffened. I knew that if I stayed home with him
alone, things would happen. He knew how to touch me,
and he knew my weaknesses, and if I gave him the chance
then he would do things to me that I wouldn't be able
to resist and I would do things to him too, and then
there would be no turning back, no way to undo them.
"No way," I said firmly, covering my eyes with my arm.
"I've been looking forward to it all year and I'm not
going to miss it."
"Sure you are," he replied, stepping into the bedroom
and shutting the door behind him. At first I was afraid
that he would cross the room and join me on the bed,
but instead he just leaned against the door with one
shoulder and looked at me. After a moment, he asked,
"How did you like the website I signed you up for?" I
didn't answer, so he asked it again, and this time I
spat, "You know I liked it, damn you. Why don't you
just leave me alone?"
"Are you sure that's what you want?"
"Yes, I want you to leave me alone and stop this...
this obscenity. It's not right!" I protested. "It's not
right for you to do these kinds of things to me, don't
you realize I'm your mother, for God sake?"
"I seem to remember something about that, yes," he said
with a chipper and thoroughly insulting tone in his
voice.
I pushed myself up to a sitting position and glared at
him. "Then why, David? Why are you treating me this
way?"
"Because I want to." It was a simple, chilling answer.
I felt tears start, and I hated myself for it. This was
a confrontation that I needed to have in order to stop
the madness I was sliding into, and to cry my way
through it would do nothing but cut the ground out from
under myself. It was just that, terrible as he was,
David was still my son and I still loved him. I had
absolutely no illusions about him (especially not after
the last few days) but he was the flesh of my flesh. I
had felt him growing inside my womb. I had given birth
to him. I had nursed him. I had tended his scrapes and
held him when he was scared.
I had sent him off to his first day of school and felt
that mixture of pride and heartbreak that every parent
knows on that day. I had answered questions about
dinosaurs and spaceships and other kids. He was my boy,
my baby boy, and even though I knew precisely what kind
of person he was, it was still a knife in the heart to
have him treat me like one of his whores. "Why?" I
managed to ask without blubbering. "What did I ever do
to make you do this to me? What?"
He cocked his head, as though the question was either
completely novel or completely foolish, and he gave a
surprisingly tender smile. "You've been the woman I've
wanted since I was...what, six years old?"
I goggled. "How could a six year old think anything
like that?"
He crossed the room then and sat on the bed next to me,
but he did nothing lewd. He simply took my hand and
looked me in the eye. "It wasn't that I thought it
then. Well, I mean I think I did think it then, but I
didn't know what I was thinking. But as soon as I
learned the difference between boys and girls, I knew
you were the girl I wanted more than any other.
Nothing's changed, except now I know what I want." He
paused, his smile turning a bit menacing, and added,
"Now I know how to get it."
"That's crazy, David," I said seriously, looking him in
the eyes. "You can't have me in that way. Do you know
that?"
"No, I don't know that at all," he answered, shaking
his head. "I know how I make you feel when I touch
you."
"That doesn't matter!" I replied emphatically. "I! Am!
Your! Mother! Don't you understand that? Mothers and
sons can't do what you want to do with me. They just
can't!"
"Why not?"
"What do you MEAN 'why not?' Because they CAN'T!"
His smile was back, the dangerous one I didn't like.
"You have a cunt," he told me, and I flinched a bit at
the use of the vulgarity. "I have a cock. Cocks can go
into cunts, and my cock wants to go into yours."
I knew he was trying to shock me with coarse language
and I tried not to be shocked, but it didn't completely
work and even if I could ignore the language, the
images it invoked were ones that were bound to be
shocking, even to someone who'd been felt up by her son
and felt him up in return. I was feeling helpless
again, like a leaf before the storm that was my son,
but I couldn't just give up and let him pull me along.
I had to fight him, and I would fight him. I pulled my
hand away from his and drew my knees up to my chest,
wrapping my arms around them. "I need you to listen to
me, David," I said as calmly as I could. "What you want
is wrong. It will destroy me and it will destroy our
family. If you really feel about me the way you say you
do, then you can't want that. You just can't."
"I want to fuck you," he told me, leaning in so his
face was just a few inches from mine. "I want to fuck
you in every way I can think of and make you beg for
more. I want you to think about me when I'm not around
and be impatient for me to get back so I can fuck you
again. I want that sweet little pussy I came out of to
want me back in it, morning, noon and night. That's
what I want."
"David, that's...that's crazy, David! Don't you
understand how wrong it is?"
"I understand," he replied with a half a chuckle. "It
makes it hotter, don't you think?"
I was fighting back the tears and I could feel myself
losing. "But don't you even care what that would do to
me? To your father and your sister? Don't you have any
feelings for us at all?"
His wolfish smile said it all. "If this family burns to
the ground, I'll stand back and laugh. But don't you
believe for a second that you and Charlie are the only
fuel I'll have to throw on that fire."
Tears were coming now, hot and shameful, squeezing from
the corners of my eyes to roll unbidden down my cheeks
as I demanded, "What do you mean?"
He just laughed. "You'll find out when I decide to tell
you. But that ought to be the least of your concerns
right now, don't you think? I mean, tonight's going to
be a big night!"
I was truly crying now. I was just astonished and
appalled that the child I'd birthed and raised could be
so horrifying. "I don't WANT that! Dammit David, can't
you see how much I don't want you that way? Doesn't
that mean anything to you?"
He laughed then, a mixture of scorn and merriment that
was deeply unsettling. "I didn't mean a big night for
you and me," he said. "Oh, we'll do some stuff, but we
won't do anything that we haven't done before...unless
you want to."
I felt my insides flip-flop. I knew that David was
capable of making me want things that I shouldn't want,
that I ought to hate but it was obvious he wasn't
referring to that. He had something else in that sick,
wormy mind of his. "What are you talking about?"
"You," he said, still smiling, "and Charlie."
I felt my mind slip a little, the way your feet do
sometimes when you step on a hidden icy patch and you
almost fall but catch yourself at the last second.
"Wh...what?" I stammered. "What do you mean?"
"Don't pretend I don't know what you want, mom," he
whispered, his lips so close to mine that I could feel
his breath against them. His eyes were huge and dark
and lovely, even if they were also hateful and wicked.
"I know how you want Charlie, and tonight you'll have
him that way. He'll be inside you and you'll love it.
You'll wonder how you ever lived without it."
I was stunned. "David... that's... that's sick..." My
words sounded tinny and fake even as I spoke them.
He laughed, this time with no hint of malice in it. "I
don't believe that, not for a second, and I know you
don't believe it either. It's something you want but
you feel like you have to fight against it. When you're
with me, you don't have to fight."
"I...I..." I didn't know what to say to that.
"Now, you'll need help, especially the first couple of
times," he counseled me sagely. "I'm sure he'll be
willing, but until he gets the hang of it, you'll want
someone there to aim him and make sure he stays where
he's supposed to be."
"Where he's supposed to be?" I asked, my voice faint
and sounding like a little girl's.
"Draped over your back," David explained, "filling you
with his cum."
"Oh..." I whispered, my eyes huge and my mind a whirl
of images. I was so stunned, and so aroused, that I
didn't even think of pulling away when David put his
lips on mine and slipped his tongue into my mouth. I
kissed him back almost automatically as his fingers
toyed idly with the blonde curls on the back of my
head. I kissed him, yes, and I even unconsciously
arched my back into his hand when he began playing with
my breasts, but my mind wasn't on him at all. My mind
was on Charlie, and on the needful thing that was
suddenly, amazingly within my grasp. And so I let him
kiss me and fondle me, which was nothing that he hadn't
done before anyway, and when he pulled his mouth from
mine I had a single question for him: "Do you mean it?
You'll help me... and Charlie?"
He nodded. "I will."
"And I don't need to do anything with you that we
haven't already done?"
"Not unless you want to."
I bit my lip, then after a moment said, "I...I need to
think about this, David."
He smiled and kissed me again, this time on the
forehead, and then left me alone with my thoughts. And
what a miserable collection of thoughts they were! If I
stayed home tonight then Charlie and I could would
have sex. But I wasn't thinking of it as just sex, and
not even just sex with a dog, which would be a huge and
probably distasteful thing to most people; I was
thinking of it as a summation, as a step I needed to
take, as the fulfillment of a need that was so
overwhelming and all-encompassing that I could feel it
in my bones.
I knew that I had always had the need, but that I
hadn't known I'd had it made it all the more pressing
now that I did know it I don't even know if that
makes sense, but it's the way I felt. I wanted Charlie
inside me, wanted it as much or more than I'd ever
wanted anything, and all I had to do was stay home from
the party and it would happen.
But what else would happen? David was expecting
something or planning something, that much was obvious
he didn't have a generous bone in his body and he
wouldn't go an inch out of his way to help me fill this
aberrant need unless he stood to gain by it somehow.
And it was pretty clear to me how he thought he'd gain.
He had the ability to make me lose control, and we both
knew it.
When he touched me like nobody else ever had, my self
control disappeared and all thoughts of propriety went
right out of my head. We'd do nothing we hadn't done
before, he'd said, unless I wanted it and that was
the problem: he'd make me want it, and then when we did
whatever we did, it would be on me and I wouldn't even
be able to blame him for it or dodge responsibility. If
I stayed home tonight, I would be taking a terrible
chance that I would take us both over a line that
needed not to be crossed, tonight or ever, and that I
would regret it deeply and forever.
But the payoff...
I whimpered with the impossibility of the decision, and
Charlie got up from his place at my feet and came and
laid down next to me, his broad back against my chest,
giving me the perfect support and love he always gave
me. I put my arm around him and snuggled close, the way
I always had with him, and felt his soft fur, his
strong muscles, his heat, and his wonderful heart
thumping in his chest. If I moved my hand just a little
further down his belly, I could wrap my fingers around
his sheath and feel his red cock inside of it...
I didn't move my hand there, but thoughts of it and
everything else kept my mind turbulent and unsettled
for the next hour. Should I go? Should I stay? Could I
ever forgive myself for whichever choice I made? I
didn't know, and I hated being in the position I was in
and having the needs I had, but I was and I did and I
suffered.
An hour later I heard the door open softly and Tim's
voice whispered, "Honey? Are you awake?"
"I'm awake," I answered, rolling over and giving him a
wan smile.
He came and sat next to me, taking my hand. His face
showed his concern I wasn't sick more than once or
twice a year as he asked, "How are you, sweety?"
"I'll live, I guess."
He squeezed my hand gently. "Do you want to go
tonight?"
Oh God. What could I say? What would I say? I didn't
know even as I opened my mouth and heard myself say, "I
don't think so, honey. I think I'll just stay home and
rest. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," he assured me, brushing the hair back
from my eyes. "I'll tell Laurel that we're not going
and we can just stay home tonight."
"No, I won't let you stay home," I said firmly and with
more strength than I should have had if I was really
sick. "Both you and Laurel have been looking forward to
this all year and I won't have you miss it just because
I've got a little bug."
"But Angela "
"No buts," I insisted, squeezing his hand. "You'll both
go and you'll stay until they throw you out. I mean it,
don't you dare come home early just because I feel
punk. I'm not dying. I'll be fine, but I don't want the
guilt of ruining your night and Laurel's night. Go and
have fun."
He smiled and kissed my hand. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure I'm sure. And besides, with me not there you
can flirt with Steph Hentzel to your heart's content."
"Oh good Lord, without you there she'll be like a
tick!" Steph was the girl Tim had broken up with right
before he started going out with me, and although the
flame had died on his end, she was still carrying the
torch in a mighty way, or at least she acted like she
was. She was also twice divorced with three problematic
children, was an alcoholic, and not to be bitchy, but
she had some real hygiene issues like feminine
hygiene, by which I mean smell, which is just gross.
She was at the party every year and every year she
threw herself at Tim like a hyena throws itself at a
zebra. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of the
contortions he'd need to do to stay clear of her. "I
think you're staying home just to punish me with her."
I giggled softly. "You'll handle it like the big brave
man you are."
"You're mean."
"I have a mean side, yes."
We both smiled at each other, and then he leaned in and
kissed me to my surprise, he kissed me on the lips
instead of the cheek or forehead, something he rarely
did anymore. There was no tongue and no passion, but
there was love, and I loved him back. I still do, as
much as I ever did. "OK," he told me in a whisper. "You
stay in bed and rest. I love you."
"I love you," I told him as he left the room and left
me in silence to contemplate how thoroughly I had just
damned myself. I felt like crying, but I didn't. I did
sleep, however, and Laurel woke me up when she came to
get the blouse I had promised she could wear. She tried
to take one of the scandalous new bras, but I warned
her off, as much for poor gay Tony's sake as for her
modesty I was sure he wouldn't like having a pair of
tits flaunted in his face all night, even if they were
big, firm, young tits like Laurel's. She spent a few
minutes giving her condolences, and then was gone.
A few minutes later Tim came and showered. He stood
unselfconsciously naked in front of me, the way a
husband does in front of his longtime wife, and I
watched him as he dressed. He has an amazing body, even
now; it's firm and taut and muscular in an athletic
way, not with big gym rat bulges but with the lean,
long lines of a runner. He's beautiful, and I wanted to
be sick at the thought of what I would be doing with
the son he and I had created together as soon as he
left.
I felt sick, yes, but I could also feel a twitter of
excitement in the pit of my belly and in the innermost
part of my sex the part where Charlie would be
putting his cum, with David's help, very soon. I wanted
Tim to stay and save me from the consequences of my own
choices, and I wanted him to hurry up and leave so I
could get on with what the evening held in store. It's
amazing, really, that the human mind can hold such
contradictory thoughts with such force and not snap.
Laurel came up and kissed me goodbye, and I told her
and Tim to have fun. I listened as the sounds came of
them going down the stairs and out the door to the
garage. The garage door opened, the car pulled out and
drove away. I was alone with my son, exactly where I
had put myself. I laid on the bed and cuddled Charlie,
wanting what was to come to start this instant and
never to start at all.
It was only a few minutes later when David came into
the room he didn't knock and said, "So you stayed."
I rolled over and looked at him. My voice was trembling
as I said, "I stayed."
He smiled at me, and this time he used the warm, gentle
smile that could make a nun's panties wet. "How about
you take a shower and do yourself up real pretty," he
said. "I'm having some dinner brought in."
I propped myself up on my elbows. "Dinner?"
"Yeah, picked some stuff up from Ristorante Luce," he
said.
"Luce? That's my favorite restaurant."
"I know," he replied. "Gourmet everything, a nice wine.
You'll love it."
"You're not old enough to drink wine," I told him,
feeling stupid even as I said it.
"I'm not old enough for a lot of things," he replied
with a laugh. "I have a present for you. You'll like
it. I'll have it laid out for you when you get out of
the shower."
"A present?" I asked warily.
"Don't worry, it's a good thing."
"I'm not sure I believe you, David."
He laughed again, and said without a trace of
resentment, "I'm not sure I blame you, mom. But it is a
good thing, and you will like it. Go on and take a
shower now, and do your hair nice." He took Charlie and
left the room.
I had put myself on this path and now I had no choice
but to obey. So I did, climbing into the shower and
cleaning myself. I felt detached, sort of surreal, as
though this whole thing were happening to some else and
I was just along for the ride with no sense of
responsibility or personal attachment. I shaved my pits
and my legs and my pussy.
I washed my hair and dried it my hair has a little
curl in it so I don't usually need to do much with the
iron but I added a few extra curls just because. I
wrapped a towel around myself and looked at myself in
the mirror, knowing that tonight would see changes for
me, and in me, that would be profound and last for the
rest of my life. If I didn't need some of those changes
so much I wouldn't put up with the others, but in for a
penny...
I stepped out of the bathroom and saw, laid out on the
bed, a slinky little white cocktail dress, and I mean
slinky and little. It was semi-sheer and it would cling
to every curve. It had a cowl neckline that tied behind
the neck, a back that dropped to below the shoulder
blades and had, down the middle, a series of rings that
came down to the top of the butt, and a hemline that
would cover my goodies and nothing else whatsoever.
Next to it was a pair of silver sandals with rhinestone
straps and four inch heels.
I picked up the dress and looked at it it was
absolutely lovely, sexy as hell, and impossible for me
to wear. Most men don't know this, and I'm sure my son
didn't, but women who are over about 20 really can't
wear tight white things. Tight black things, sure, and
red looks fantastic on a lot of people, but white is
brutally unforgiving. It shows every bump and bulge and
ripple, every bit of cellulite and every ounce of fat.
In this dress, I would look like a bag of dumplings. I
appreciated the thought on David's part, but putting
this thing on would be suicidal.
And then, suddenly, it struck me that looking like a
bag of dumplings might not be such a bad thing. Yes, it
would be crushing to my vanity and damaging to my ego,
and no woman likes to look BAD, but in this
case...well, it could be worse. Seeing me like this, in
all my 35-year-old glory, David might just realize what
he was putting himself in for. He might just decide he
didn't want me after all. He might just back off and
leave me alone, and the doom I had hanging over my head
would go away just that fast!
I can't say I was smiling when I put on the dress, but
I was at least relaxed in a way that I hadn't been
since this whole insane ride started. I didn't put on
panties they'd show through the dress, and by now
David had seen and touched everything I had so there
was no point in modesty. I had to admit the shoes
looked very cute on me, though. I put on a little
makeup, not much, and then went out to let my son be
disappointed in me.
As I went downstairs, I heard soft jazz playing on the
stereo and saw that the ground floor was only faintly
lit by what looked to be candlelight from the dining
room. Something smelled rich and savory and wonderful.
Charlie was waiting at the foot of the stairs, tail
thumping, and he eagerly stuck his nose under the dress
and pressed it against my pussy. "Hey, you," I
chuckled, pushing him away. "Don't get dark hair all
over the dress, you silly guy. And be patient, you're
going to have me tonight." He didn't understand a word,
of course, but he was as happy as he always was when I
spoke to him.
I followed my nose into the kitchen and found the table
set with our best white tablecloth and our finest china
and crystal. A bottle of wine was open on the table,
and there was food that I loved: inslata mista, ravioli
con zucca, nodino di maiale. The smell alone was enough
to make my knees wobble and my stomach demand to be
fed. David was there too, dressed in a suit that made
him look five years older, setting a single red rose in
a crystal vase in the middle of the table.
He looked up and me and smiled automatically, but his
smile froze and his eyes grew wide. He uttered a
single, soft word: "Wow."
I stood in the doorway and shifted uncomfortably,
knowing I looked awful in white and knowing my son was
judging me harshly. It was going to be a kick to the
ego, yes, but it needed to happen. I knew as much.
Still, now that I knew he was staring at me and
thinking how awful I looked, I felt myself shifting
uncomfortably in my pumps.
Nobody ever likes to look bad, and a woman tottering on
the cusp of middle age is especially vulnerable to
knowledge of her decline. Added to that was the simple
but terribly powerful fact that I had spent my adult
life feeling unattractive and unwanted; it was only in
the last week that I had felt pretty and desirable, and
that feeling was a small and fragile thing yet. Knowing
how my son was regarding me was crushing that feeling,
but it was a price I needed to pay. After a while not
nearly as long as it seemed to me, I'm sure the
silence got uncomfortable, so I lifted out my arms in
something of a helpless gesture and said, "So?"
"So?" he asked. "Mom, you're...you're gorgeous, mom.
I've never seen you look this beautiful, and you're
always beautiful."
I blushed hotly and looked down at the floor. "You're
making fun of me," I whispered.
"What?" He sounded baffled. "Why would I do that?"
"I look terrible," I replied.
He paused, then asked, "Why the hell do you think
that?"
"I look like a bag of flour in this dress...don't I?"
He shook his head slowly as he walked up to me.
"Nnnnnooooo, you don't. What's the matter, mom?"
I tried to speak, but suddenly I was crying. I didn't
even know why except that I was feeling old and ugly
and very uncomfortable at being so horny for something
that was so wrong, and for being here with my son where
that wrong thing and other wrong things were bound to
happen. Tears rolled down my cheeks and all I could say
was, "I can't wear white! I'm too old and it makes me
look fat..."
And then my son's strong arms were around me, pulling
me close against his tall, powerful body. I couldn't
resist I needed the hug too badly. I put my arms
around his broad back and buried my face in his chest
and felt like an idiot for crying, but I couldn't stop.
"Mom," he said softly, "I've never seen anyone more
beautiful than you are right now."
"Y-you're just saying that..."
"I'm not, mom. You're not just beautiful, you're
perfect. You are perfect."
"I look lumpy..."
"Your lumps are in all the right places, mom."
"They're not! I'm too old for this dress!"
He stepped away, just enough that he could tilt my face
up to him and make me look him in the eyes. They were,
for a change, kindly, and so was his smile as he asked,
wonderingly, "Do you really not know how you look?"
"I know I look like a sack full of dumplings...."
"Mom," he whispered in the precise tone I used to use
for him when he was being silly as a young boy. "You're
amazing. You really are, and if you don't know it then
it's time you learned. Come with me." He took my hand
and I followed him where he led me, into the foyer
where there was a closet with a full-length mirror on
the inside of the door. He flipped on the light and
opened the door so my dumpy reflection was shining back
at me, and I winced and looked down. "Oh no, don't you
look at the floor," he scolded me softly. "Look at
yourself and tell me what you see."
Much against my will, I did as he ordered me to do. I
saw my reflection, and it was terrible. I looked
foolish and ridiculous, like an old woman dressing like
a young girl to try to recapture something that was
forever gone. Tears started in my eyes again and I
didn't answer him because I couldn't trust myself to
speak.
"Mom," he whispered again, "tell me what you see."
Reluctantly, I said, "I'm old, David. I look old. There
are...there are lines around my eyes. My boobs aren't
as firm as they used to be and it's...pretty obvious. I
need to lose five pounds, at least, and you can't hide
that in this dress. I look bulgy and dumpy and...ugly.
I look ugly, David!"
He stepped behind me then, pressing his body against
mine, and I saw the reflection of his dark suit and his
handsome face behind me. He encircled my body with his
arms and put his hands on my tummy, one just below my
breasts and the other lower, on the swell just above my
sex. "Now," he whispered into my ear, making a lock of
my hair rustle with his breath, "let me tell you what I
see. I see a woman."
"An old woman."
"No, not an old woman, mom," he told me, his eyes
locking onto the reflection of mine and keeping them
locked. He had huge, beautiful eyes, and I couldn't
look away. "You're perfect. And no, don't say a word.
Just listen to me. Don't say anything until I tell you
to, all right?" I nodded, and he went on. "You think
you're old because you're not 17 anymore, but you need
to listen to me and you need to hear me: I would take
you over any 17 year old, 18 year old, 20 year old, any
time, any day. You're a woman, mom. A WOMAN. You're
some silly, stupid little girl with a head full of
foolish ideas and a bony body. You're a mother MY
mother.
"You've lived, you had life inside you, you know what
it's like to win and to lose, to have disappointments
and victories. You can talk about something other than
makeup and dancing. You say there are lines around your
eyes? I remember what put those lines there. I remember
you laughing, I remember you smiling, and I remember
you crying too. Do you think those lines are there
because of your age? They're not. They're there because
you've lived. You've lived more than any idiot girl
ever could have. They're there because you're wise and
you're strong, wiser and stronger than any 18 year old
I've ever known."
I was watching his face as he spoke, and I knew he was
telling the truth. It was so obvious that it was
unmistakable, undeniable. I didn't say anything he'd
commanded me not to but I felt myself settling back
against him, feeling his strong young body against
mine. It felt very, very nice.
His big, clever hands moved against my belly, stroking
me through the dress from the bottoms of my breasts to
the top of my pubic mound, slowly and sensuously. I
loved the sensation. "You know, I came out of here," he
whispered to me, a pleasant smile curling his lips. "I
was made here and I grew here. When you look at your
stomach you can only see an invisible five pounds that
nobody else can see, but do you know what I see? I see
life, mom. Life itself. For me, for Laurel, for another
baby, maybe. I see a woman who made her children though
love and who loved them through everything, good and
bad. After everything, you still love me."
It was a statement of fact, not a question, but I
nodded anyway. I was getting weak and wobbly on my legs
and leaning back against him more, but he didn't seem
to mind I could feel his cock begin to stir against
my back, and kept my body against it and let it grow.
His hands moved now, up to my breasts. He cupped them
through my dress and I felt my nipples hard and tight
against his palms. He squeezed them gently and then
took the hem between his fingers and pulled it down,
freeing my tits. I didn't flinch. I looked at them in
the mirror, pale and full, nipples darkening with
desire, and I watched and felt as he took each nipple
between forefinger and thumb and gave a firm tug.
Pleasure rippled through me and I moaned softly between
wet lips. "I suckled here. My lips went here..." he
said, squeezing first my left nipple and then my right,
"and here. I drew my life from you, the life you made
and gave to me. You sustained me and I've loved you for
it, for everything, for all."
I remembered him suckling my breasts as an infant
even now I remembered it as clearly as though it had
just happened but this was different now. Now his
hands were large and confident and making me aroused.
He knew how to make me aroused, more than anyone ever
had, with a touch or a word. I knew I should fight it
I knew I had to fight it but right now I couldn't. I
didn't have the strength... and I found, to a mixture
of dismay and satisfaction, that I didn't have the
desire. He had taken that desire away from me and was
beginning to replace it with desire of another sort.
His hands drifted down and began to move up under my
dress, between my legs, and I wanted him to continue
and touch me in the way he knew how to touch me... but
I stopped him.
I placed my hands on his wrists and stilled them, then
slowly let them go and turned in his arms so I was
facing him, by breasts bare against his chest, his cock
hard against my belly. I looked up into his eyes,
because the question I needed answered had to be
answered honestly and he was such a smooth liar that
the only way I could be reasonably sure I was getting
the truth was by reading his face. "David," I said
softly and hesitantly, "Do you think I'm disgusting?
Because of what I want to do with Charlie?"
His smile was soft and his eyes were truthful as he
shook his head. "No, mom, I don't."
"Really?"
"Really," he replied, kissing my forehead and pulling
me closer. "Tell me what you feel about him, about how
he makes you feel."
His tone wasn't condemnatory, and it wasn't even
curious. It sounded like he was asking me to prove a
point, so I told him. "It's like... it's like I've
always wanted him that way, or wanted a dog that way.
Always, since I was old enough to want anything at all.
I just never knew it. I never... I never had an
experience, or came close to an experience, that would
let me know what it was I wasn't getting. So I've spent
my life with this... piece of me just missing. And I
didn't even know it was missing." I paused and
swallowed hard. "And then Monday when he... when he
licked me, I suddenly knew what it was I'd needed. I
knew what I was missing then and now that I know I
don't think I can live without it. I really don't."
He shifted, his erection pressing more firmly against
me, and I didn't pull away. "Is this what you wanted
for yourself?" he asked. "I mean...if you could have
picked what turned you on the most, what really
completed you, would you have picked dogs?"
"No!" I said, surprisingly emphatically. "I can't tell
anyone about this! Who would understand?"
"Besides me?"
"Yes, besides you," I nodded. "And look where it's
gotten me now that you know. Even if I was a closet
lesbian or...or someone who liked to be whipped, that
would be more acceptable than this. Now I'm just a
freak."
"I don't think you're a freak, mom."
"Well that makes two of us," I replied. "And that's
probably just about it."
He smiled then. "You haven't really thought about how
we're the same, have you mom?"
I paused. "What do you mean?"
"All my life I've had a hole that I couldn't fill," he
told me. "A piece of me that was missing. You. But the
difference is I knew what I wanted, I just couldn't get
it, ever. I saw you every single day and I wanted you,
I hurt for you. At night I'd lie in bed wide awake and
think about what it would be like with you and knowing
I'd never be happy unless I had you...and I'd never
have you. Think about it, mom. Think about if you had
discovered how you felt about Charlie but you couldn't
do anything about it, not last Monday, not today, not
ever. Think about if you saw him every day and spent
time with him and wanted him so bad that most times you
couldn't think of anything else at all...but you could
never, ever have him. How would that make you feel?"
This was a view of the situation that I hadn't ever
taken before, and for the first time since my son
discovered my desires and I discovered his, I felt
sorry for him. Genuinely, truly sorry. "It would drive
me crazy," I whispered, my eyes locked on his. "Just
thinking about it, I...I can't even imagine."
He was quiet for a bit, and then he whispered, "I'm
going to kiss you, mom. I hope you don't pull away."
I shook my head. "I won't, baby. Kiss me."
He did, his lips settling on mine, his exhalation on my
cheek. I kissed him back immediately, unhesitatingly,
our tongues moving together. It wasn't a passionate
kiss, though there was passion there on both sides.
Instead it was a kiss of recognition, of two people who
knew each other so well but who at last saw each other
for what they were and what they needed, and who each
knew that they alone held the key to the other's
satisfaction. A thought of David taking me in his arms
and carrying me upstairs to his bed flitted through my
mind, and for the first time I didn't recoil from it.
It occurred to me, at last, that it might not be a
terrible thing, or an utter perversity or at least
that his perversion was no greater than my own. The
thought tumbled through my mind for a few moments as
the kiss drew on, and then I pushed it away. It didn't
revolt me as it had before, but I wasn't ready for that
yet. I wasn't nearly ready, in fact, and I couldn't say
for sure that I ever would be. I was still his mother,
and I always would be, no matter that he wanted me to
be his lover too. Some bonds can't be broken.
The kiss ended and he smiled at me, then he took my
hand and led me to the dining room where the food I
loved awaited. As I sat down I tucked my breasts back
into my dress despite a disappointed sound from my
son and we ate together. It was a wonderful,
charming, and, yes, very romantic meal. David was
blessed with immense charm that he could turn on
whenever he wanted it, and he wanted it that evening.
He had me laughing, he had me leaning into him to hear
his words, he had me playing footsie with him under the
table.
I felt comfortable with him, really and truly, more
comfortable than I had felt around him for many years,
and it was a very good feeling. I felt I understood him
more than I ever had, perhaps more than I had ever
understood any man; the fact that we each had a taboo
desire known to the other seemed to bring down the
barriers that experience had placed between us.
He was flirtatious, and I was flirtatious back and
more than flirtatious, like when, in response to a
teasing dare, I pulled down the top of my dress,
drizzled warm pasta sauce on my hard nipples, and let
him lick them off. Not that he stopped at licking, of
course; he sucked them, nibbled them, and pinched them
as I moaned and lifted my chest into his mouth. At the
same time I even put my hand between his legs and
rubbed his thick and very hard cock through his
pants...it was nothing that we hadn't done before, so I
somehow felt it was all right to do it again.
Charlie was there for the whole meal, of course. When
food is eaten, Charlie is there, my own furry Hoover.
We each gave him a little food from our plates, and he
licked our hands when we did; it was impossible for me,
as that astonishing tongue curled around my fingers, to
think of anything but what the two of us had done
together, and what we would do tonight, with David's
assistance. It was very... odd, when I thought of it
my son and I were having a romantic and occasionally
sexual dinner preparatory to him helping me fuck our
dog.
A week ago I would have been astonished at the thought,
but now that I was in it, it was as though we were
building our own little world together, just the three
of us, a world where we each might get what we needed,
or enough of what we needed to make us happy. David
watched as I leaned in and let Charlie kiss me again,
his tongue filling my mouth the way it does, and when I
was done he told me that it was the most erotic thing
he had ever seen. I blushed and looked down at my plate
with a shy smile, but I was delighted that my son
thought that seeing it was good. Not only had I found
my passion, I had found someone I could share it with.
When dinner was done we made quick work of the cleanup.
I washed the dishes and put them away, and David put
the good tablecloth downstairs in the wash so I could
attend to it when we were done, then he took the food
boxes and the empty wine bottle out to the trunk of his
car. In a very few minutes there was no evidence of our
rendezvous...and we were ready for what would come
next.
I confess I had no idea what to expect. Yes I had seen
the videos on the site that David had signed me up for,
but those were edited, their dogs were trained to mate
with humans, and they had a whole experienced crew
there ready to assist. This was just the three of us,
and none of us had ever done anything like this before.
I was nervous, wondering if it would work, if Charlie
could be coaxed to climb atop me and put his cock
inside me and take me like he'd take a bitch dog or if
it wouldn't work at all and I would finish the night
more frustrated than I was at the beginning. The
thought of the first possibility was intoxicating, but
the chance of the second kept me from getting too
excited as I finished tidying up the kitchen and dining
room.
David came back into the house, a smile on his face and
his cock tenting his pants. He took me in his arms and
I pressed into him unashamedly, gratefully even, and
looked up into his face. "Thank you for tonight, baby,"
I told him. "Whatever happens...thank you."
"You're very welcome, mom," he replied, hands massaging
my ass through my dress. "Are you ready?"
"God yes," I whispered fervently. "I can't believe how
much I need this. I've never needed anything this
much."
"Then go into the living room and take off your
clothes," he told me. "I have another present for you."
"Another one?" I grinned. "You're spoiling me."
"You deserve to be spoiled," he told me, then swatted
my ass to get me moving. "Go on now, get undressed and
wait for me in the living room, you and Charlie."
I squeezed his hands and then did as I was told,
heading to the living room and untying the trap behind
my neck. The dress dropped to the floor and I bent to
pick it up
Charlie didn't waste the opportunity of having my pussy
bare and stuck in the air that way. The instant I bent,
he was there, nose against my sex and tongue pushing
inside for the wetness that was there. "Oooohhhh good
boy," I cooed, spreading my legs and bracing myself
with my hands on my knees. It felt amazing, and not
just because he's so skilled with his tongue; it felt
amazing because for the first time in my life I knew
what I needed and wanted and felt liberated to get it.
If I wanted to have Charlie lick me, then I could. If I
wanted to have Charlie fuck me, David was there to
help.
My son would be coming down from his bedroom very
shortly with a gift for me, and not only did I not mind
if he caught me this way, I wanted him to. I wanted him
to see me taking what I needed because only he in all
the world knew, only he understood. I felt safe with
him at that moment, safe knowing that I would not be
condemned for taking this pleasure and filling this
need, and I felt safe knowing that he would find it
arousing to see me this way. I began to think that even
if we wouldn't wind up in bed together (certainly we
wouldn't tonight and maybe we wouldn't ever), then at
least my son deserved something special for accepting
me, loving me and helping me through this. Something
that he'd been wanting for a long, long time...
I was still moaning on Charlie's tongue and grinding my
ass back against it when David reappeared with an old
bedsheet draped over one arm and a shopping bag in the
other. He stopped when he saw me and we exchanged
knowing, lustful smiles. "Well that's a sexy fucking
sight," he told me. "Do you like how he licks you?"
"I love how he licks me, baby," I told him, wiggling my
ass and panting with desire. "His tongue is so amazing.
I can't even describe it... but it... aaaahhh yes... it
moves inside me. It twists... it fills me... it's
soft... and strong... and rough... he presses his teeth
against my lips...oh god baby it feels so fucking good
when he does me this way!"
He moved in front of me and bent to kiss me; I opened
my mouth eagerly for his tongue and just as eagerly
reached between his legs and put my hand on the bulge
in his pants. I unzipped him and had my hand inside his
pants in seconds, wrapped around that magnificent piece
of meat he kept there, stroking it adoringly. I was
going to come tonight, and so was my son. We both
deserved it. He kissed me and I stroked him, my hand
moving up and down his hard cock as Charlie licked my
pussy and my ass, and at that moment it seemed to me so
perfect that I never wanted any of it to end.
But end it did when David pulled away. Reluctantly I
took my hand out of his pants. "Do you like my cock,
mom?" he asked playfully.
"How should I know?" I teased back. "I haven't seen it
in years."
He was watching my face when he asked, "Do you want to
see it?"
I looked right back into his eyes and answered, without
hesitation, "Yes, baby, I want to see it. I want to see
all of you. Take off your clothes for me, baby."
The smile on his face was so very much like it had been
when he was little and he saw the presents spread under
the tree on Christmas morning. It just melted my heart.
At that moment I loved my son as much as I ever had. He
shed his suit coat, draping it over the back of an easy
chair, and loosened and removed his tie with an elegant
gesture that made me giggle even as I was gasping on
Charlie's tongue.
He unbuttoned his shirt, cuffs first and then his body,
and I watched avidly as his powerful young chest and
flat tummy came into view. He was gorgeous, and as he
removed his shirt and tossed it to the side I watched
the strong muscles ripple beneath his skin and I
understood how he was able to make the local housewives
crumble; for a neglected woman on the wrong side of 30
to have a young Adonis like that hot for her? Yes, he
could get into almost any housewife's panties that he
wanted.
As David bent over to untie his shoes, Charlie stopped
licking me and went over to see what was going on as
I've said, dogs are great lovers but stupid and my
efforts to call him back by patting my ass and pussy
were fruitless. So I simply stood up, hands on
insolently tilted hips, feet apart, giving my son
something to look at as he undressed. And look he did
as he took off one shoe and then the other, his eyes
paying special attention to the bare little cleft
between my legs.
I didn't hide it far from it, in fact, because at
this moment, feeling what I felt, I loved that he was
looking and I loved that I was making him hard. It
seemed, I thought, the least I could do for what he was
about to do for me. And I had no intention of just
settling for doing the least, not anymore.
When he straightened up and began to undo his belt,
David had to have seen the avidity in my eyes, and
there was no way he missed me licking my lips. I told
you before that I love to look at cocks, and that the
cock of my dreams was inside those pants. I had felt
it, hot and throbbing and gloriously thick, and now I
wanted to see it. He teased me, the little bastard, but
I didn't mind. I loved how he was tenting his pants and
for once I loved that I was the one putting that tent
there. He wiggled a bit and I giggled; Charlie figured
this was all a new game and pranced, causing David to
ruff his ears and me to pet his back. The three of us
were sharing something special tonight.
When David unzipped his pants and let them fall, my
breath caught in my throat. He was standing before me
in just his underwear, navy blue boxer briefs that
hugged his ass and his groin. He turned, showing me
that hard, beautiful backside as he tossed his pants
across the chair back, and I almost felt dizzy that
such perfection had come out of my body. At that moment
it didn't even occur to me that Tim had the same
perfect body, that in fact from the neck down, cock
excepted, David was almost a carbon copy of what his
father had been at that age.
In fact, from this point on I don't think Tim entered
my mind once until we had finished. I know that sounds
monstrous, that I could do what we did without ever
once thinking of my husband, but it was easier that way
much easier. Tim had been dead to me sexually for so
long that it was almost impossible for me to think of
him that way then, and David and Charlie had grounded
me so much in the moment that I don't think I could
have thought of anything but the three of us if I had
tried. And honestly, I didn't try.
I held my breath as my son turned back to face me,
thumbs hooked in the waistband of his underwear. I know
he was watching my face, but I didn't take my eyes off
his crotch as he slowly, slowly pulled down his briefs.
I saw his pubic hair, dark and full, come into view,
and I watched as his underwear got hung up on his
erection...
And then it came into view...no, it exploded into view.
The instant the underwear went down past it, it bobbed
free and I gasped. I had been right: it was the cock of
my dreams. It was maybe halfway past seven inches,
standing proud and straight and wrist-thick from his
body. There was no curve to it. The veins, pulsing and
throbbing, stood in hard relief against the velvety
skin. The head was pronounced but not flaring... just
enough to get the tip of the tongue under and make him
tremble. It looked proud, powerful, and so masculine
that if I hadn't already been dripping, I'd have gotten
wet just from looking at it. Underneath it hung a pair
of balls that I instantly adored: heavy, full, round,
dangling, full of his seed. I knew instantly how those
balls would feel in my hand if I were to hold them, and
I knew instantly that I could bring my son to his knees
by lifting those balls up and running my tongue along
that ultra-sensitive spot where they met his perineum.
His shorts hit the floor and he stood for a moment, him
watching me stare at his perfect nakedness. I couldn't
take my eyes off of him and I didn't want to. I wanted
to drink him in and keep the image of him just this
way, naked, aroused, seen for the first time. After a
long moment of me devouring him with my eyes, though,
he shifted a bit uncomfortably and asked, in an
adorably uncertain voice, "Well? Am I OK?"
I looked up into his eyes and gave him a smile that was
strange for how it mixed maternal pride and utter lust.
"Yes, baby, you're more than all right," I told him,
watching the relief and he joy spread onto his face.
"You're gorgeous. I've never seen a more gorgeous man
naked."
"I've never seen a more gorgeous woman naked."
My grin got mischievous. "You know, after this I'm
going to have a hard time seeing you with clothes on.
I'll always be sneaking peeks at you!"
"Whenever you want to see me this way, all you have to
do is ask," he told me. "Do I get the same privilege?"
I nodded. "Yes, baby, whenever you want and it's safe
to do it. If you like looking at me this way, you can.
I promise."
He stepped up to me and put his arms around me, and for
the very first time the head of his hard cock nuzzled
at my belly. I loved the way it felt, just like I loved
the way he took me to him so commandingly and so
certainly. This was the first time we kissed when both
of us were naked, and it was a memorable kiss. By
breasts against his chest, his hands moving on me, my
fingers around his cock lazily stroking while my other
hand cupped his balls, our tongues wrapping around each
other slowly at first but then faster and more
urgently, his hand slipping between my legs and sliding
a finger against my clit...almost immediately I was
ready to cum and I was more than willing to have him
bring me there...but he stepped back and smiled. "I
told you I have a present for you," he said, picking up
the shopping bag and holding it out.
I opened the bag and... well, I'm not quite sure what I
was expecting but I wasn't expecting what I got. The
first thing I found was an oversized tee shirt dyed in
a garish dark blue and pale yellow pattern, like a tie
die if the dyer that made it was both lazy and stoned.
I looked at it quizzically and glanced at David, who
was grinning like the Cheshire cat. I held it up and
looked at it... and it was truly hideous. "Ummm... OK,"
I said slowly. "I don't want to hurt your feelings,
but..."
"But?"
"But...um... well I really like the white dress you got
me..."
He laughed heartily and took the shirt out of my hands.
"Take a look at what else I got you."
I did it was a pair of jeans, an old and faded one
that looked like it had been purchased at a second-hand
store. I lifted them from the bag and held them up...
and immediately saw that the crotch had been crudely
cut away; if I put them on, they would have left my
pussy bare but covered pretty much everything else.
"Well," I said, "I can see I won't be wearing this to
the store."
"No, that's not what they're for," David chuckled.
"All right, I give up," I told him. "What are they
for?"
"These," my son told me, "are your dog fucking
clothes."
"My...dog fucking clothes?" I asked. "Why do I need
clothes to do that?"
"Haven't you ever noticed Charlie's claws?" he asked,
grinning. "Do you really want to try to explain to dad
why your back and thighs and ass are all covered with
big red scratches?"
"Ooohhhh, no," I said slowly, the utility of the
clothes dawning on me. "I definitely don't want to do
that..."
"And not only that, but the only time you're going to
wear these clothes is when you want to get busy with
Charlie."
"Darn, and here I was thinking I'd wear them to church
tomorrow."
His grin was salacious. "Now that's an image worth
thinking about: you with your pussy hanging out in
church. But the point is that he'll associate these
clothes with sex, and so once we get him trained he'll
know that when you're wearing them, you want him to
mount you and fuck you like the dirty little bitch you
are." I gasped at his crude language, but it wasn't a
gasp of shock; in fact, a ripple of illicit pleasure
shot through me at my son speaking to me that way.
"And even more important," he went on, "he'll learn
that when you're not wearing these clothes, you don't
want to. That way you won't have to worry about him
knocking you down and tying with you when you have
grandma over. That's why I picked a shirt with a big,
bold pattern on it he's colorblind, but that's such a
recognizable pattern than he'll learn pretty quickly."
I gazed at my boy with frank admiration. "You think of
everything, don't you?"
"I like to be prepared," he chuckled. "Ever since I
found out about what you like I've been doing some
reading on the internet about how women can have sex
with dogs. I think I understand enough to make sure you
have a good time tonight."
"Well, you have earned a special treat," I told him,
stepping close to him again and putting my hand on his
cock. "One I think you'll really like, in fact."
"Oh, do tell..."
I laughed. "Nope, that's my surprise. So I'll put on
these clothes..." And I did, dressing in the ridiculous
outfit as David spread out the old sheet. He explained
that dogs cum so much that they make a huge mess, so
having a floor covering would make cleanup easier. It
all seemed more than a bit surreal, being here with my
naked son, dressed in "dog fucking clothes" and getting
ready to mate with my beautiful family pet in fact,
now that we were on the edge of it, events seemed to be
moving both too fast to understand and too slow to
tolerate.
I wanted to be on all fours immediately with Charlie's
cock lodged in my body and experiencing the blissful
orgasms I knew I would have, but part of me also
screamed out to stop, to take a breath, to put a halt
to this whole crazy parade until I could get hold of it
and make sense of everything that had happened.
But I couldn't stop now, not when I was so close to
something that promised such fulfillment and beside
that, a small voice inside me told me that it was
impossible to stop anymore; I had placed myself in a
stream that was moving faster and faster and all I
could do as hope to hold on and keep my head above
water while that stream took me to wherever it would
go. I was no longer my own master and I knew it.
And so I put on the absurd tee shirt and the crotchless
jeans. As soon as David had spread the sheet on the
floor Charlie sat down proudly in the middle of it,
claiming it as his own, and I sank to my knees next to
him. He immediately began thumping his tail and threw a
brawny shoulder into me that almost knocked me on my
ass. After all, the main time anyone got on the floor
with him was to play, and he was already pretty sure we
were playing some new game... and we were, just not the
sort he expected. I laughed and put my arms around his
neck, hugging him and feeling the softness of his fur
and the heat of his body.
It struck me then, and not for the first time, what
marvelous creatures dogs really are. Charlie had no
concept of future or past, no idea of the passage of
time, no worries for tomorrow or regrets for yesterday.
He was of the moment, purely and simply, and physically
THERE in a way that few men could ever be. And truly, I
reflected, one wouldn't want a man (or a woman, for
that matter) to be so grounded in the present instant
and in his own body. To be human was to have knowledge,
to realize that there's something beyond the now.
In giving myself to Charlie this way I was surrendering
that part of myself, at least temporarily. I was giving
up on consequences and the future, sacrificing all of
it for a moment of communion with a fellow creature
that was so different from me. Different, yes, but no
less. As I looked into Charlie's loving eyes I knew
that I was finding a soul mate just as surely as anyone
ever had. I was going where I needed to go, where my
body and my mind and my soul all commanded me. There
was a part of me that only Charlie, or maybe only any
beautiful and perfect dog, could truly reach, a need in
me that only he could fill. With him, I was going home.
I looked down along his belly and saw his sheath. Just
the very tip of his red cock was poking out, much less
than an inch, and I felt the same giddy thrill that I
had before when he had gone after Nosey, the same giddy
thrill that had started all this. But this was
different. Now I was going to have that red cock inside
me. Now I was going to take that giddy thrill to a
whole new place. I watched his face as I reached
between his forelegs and took his sheath in my hand. It
felt so warm, so perfectly soft, and underneath it I
could feel hardness. David was watching me with a smile
on his face, but I didn't mind.
In fact, I loved that there was someone to share this
moment with someone, that is, besides Charlie. After
all, I couldn't very well talk this over with Charlie
when I was done; and he would keep my secret, true, but
because he had no choice. There would be something
wonderful about sharing this secret with my son, just
as we shared the secret of his desire for me or so I
thought at the time. That I turned out to be wrong
doesn't make the feeling I had then any less profound.
And so I began to stroke Charlie's sheath and I watched
his eyes get big with surprise and pleasure. I could
feel the skin sliding over the hardness underneath, and
I was amazed and thrilled at how different it all felt
from a human cock. When a man is soft, he's soft all
the way through, not just on the outside. His junk
flops, it bends, and generally it's inoffensive when it
isn't erect.
With Charlie, though and, I've since learned, with
all dogs there was hardness beneath the softness, and
even though it felt pencil-thin inside his sheath I
knew from the pictures and the movies I saw that it
would get bigger, thicker, longer... and I knew that
there was a thick bulge part way down, a magnificent
knot that would get him stuck inside of me, gloriously
stuck inside of my body while he loaded me endlessly
with his cum. I almost swooned. And it didn't take long
for Charlie to begin to respond; as I watched more and
more of his cock appeared, bit by bit, until nearly two
inches of red, slick, amazing dog cock was showing.
"You like that, don't you?" David whispered in my ear
as he crouched beside me to watch what I was doing.
"You like the feel of a dog's cock in your hand."
"Yes," I breathed, a little dizzy with the sensation.
"I do like it. It feels... it feels very naughty..."
"Very naughty and?"
"...and very right," I finished for him. "Completely
right. The rightest thing I've ever felt. David, I want
him hard. I want him inside me now. Can you help me?"
He kissed me on the neck and I tilted my head to let
him tease the tender flesh. "You want me to help you
fuck him?"
"Yes baby, I want that," I whispered, my voice getting
quieter as the intensity of what I was feeling
increased. "Please..."
"Then tell me," he whispered back. "Nice and loud, so I
can hear it. I don't want you to be ashamed of this. I
want you to own it, to be proud of it. I want you to
tell me exactly what you want me to do."
I didn't hesitate, just like I didn't take my eyes off
of Charlie's sheath and the bit of redness protruding
from it. I spoke not quite in a shout, but definitely
in a loud and certain voice: "I want you to help me
fuck Charlie, David. I want you to help him get inside
me and stay inside me. I want to feel it. I want to
have him draped over my back all hot and panting. I
want to feel his cum inside me. I want you to help me,
baby. I need you to you help your mother now."
He reached around and squeezed my breasts through the
ridiculous shirt and whispered, "On your hands and
knees, mom. Now."
I hurried to obey, and Charlie stood up and regarded me
curiously as I assumed the position. David was there to
guide me. "Spread your legs a little, you want to be at
the right height for him to get into you easily and you
want to have a steady base when he gets on top of you.
Put your chest down, almost on the floor, so your ass
sticks up and your pussy is at the right angle. That's
it. Christ, you look so hot like that I'm tempted to
fuck you myself!"
"You're always tempted to fuck me," I chuckled. "Now be
a good boy."
He made some adjustments to my stance and I took
careful mental note of everything he did. I wanted to
be able to repeat this easily when my son wasn't
around, after all. By the end I was positioned like a
whore, legs splayed wide, ass and cunt tilted up
saucily, tits resting on the floor to give my back a
seductive curve; my last act was to look over my
shoulder at Charlie in a wordless invitation to mount
me. It was, I thought, a look a male of any species
ought to understand!
I think Charlie understood well enough he was
breathing heavily, almost panting, and he was pacing
around my back end. But he was uncertain too. This was
the first time I had ever offered myself to him, after
all, and indeed it was the first time he would ever
mate. He had the instinct and the desire, I knew,
because his cock was still poking two inches of red out
of his gray sheath. But he was also intimidated after
all, I was the leader of his pack, so to speak, and
being invited to mate with the alpha female was
probably a little confusing for him, the poor dear.
David tried patting my ass and my lower back but all
Charlie did was look worried. After a bit, he took a
step toward me and sniffed my sex; I waggled my butt in
what I hoped was an enticing way, but he just gave me a
tentative lick and stepped away again.
The initial buzz of excitement and expectation was
starting to fade, and an unsettling voice of doubt was
growing inside me. "What's the matter?" I asked.
"Doesn't he want to?"
"I think he does," David said soothingly. "It's just
this is new for him and he doesn't know how to go about
it."
"But...what if he won't?" The idea was positive
crushing, after all the buildup and expectation and
need I felt. To be here, in this position with my
lovely dog and my willing helper of a son, only to have
Charlie turn up his nose? The very idea was awful!
"Shhhh," my son whispered, running his hand along my
ass and then down between my legs to stroke my pussy
and get some of my juices on his fingers. He held his
hand out to Charlie, saying, "We just need to give him
the right idea, that's all. You'll be Charlie's bitch
in no time."
The vulgarity, the image, and the sheer casualness and
acceptance with which my son said those words sent a
shiver of illicit delight down my spine and made my
pussy spasm. "Say...say that again," I whispered,
closing my eyes.
I felt David's hand on my sex, teasing me open and
slipping a pair of fingers inside; I squeezed down on
them and pushed into him, fucking him back as he began
to pump me. He leaned in, pressing his body against
mine and rubbing his erection against me. "You'll be
Charlie's bitch," he whispered again, his voice thick
with lust. "He's going to take you just like a bitch
dog in heat, just exactly like you are a horny bitch
dog who wants to get fucked by his big, hard red cock.
Aren't you?"
"Ohhh yes," I moaned, listening avidly to his words and
the sloppy suction sound his fingers made as they
pumped me. "I'm a bitch dog in heat..."
"He's going to put that cock into you and load you up
with his cum," he continued, placing his lips on the
back of my neck and kissing me there. "He's going to
tie with you and you'll be stuck to him, his prisoner,
his slave..."
"Ohhh fuck baby yes...yes that's what I want... I want
it so bad..."
"Your cunt will be a dog's cunt, your body a fucktoy
for a big horny dog..."
"Yes, yes, keep fingering me, keep telling me..." I was
on the edge of a massive orgasm and I needed it not to
get away. I need to cum, and I needed it from my son.
Not from Charlie, not at that moment, but from David. I
needed to give him the gift of my orgasm to thank him
for what he'd done for me, just like I'd thank him with
his orgasm later. I wanted him to know he'd made me
cum.
His fingers moved harder, faster, deeper, slamming into
me as I slammed back. "And he's going to take you again
and again," he told me fervently. "From now on you're
nothing but a bitch, nothing but his hole to fuck,
nothing but a dog to serve his needs. That's what you
want, isn't it?"
"Yes!" I cried, biting my lip.
"And from now on you're gonna give him this hot little
bitch cunt whenever he wants it, however he wants it,
all the time..."
"YES!"
"He's gonna pump you full of cum and keep you full of
cum with that big fucking knot and his big fucking cock
and you're going to have a belly full of dog sperm..."
"YES! YES!" And I came, hard, shivering, pushing back
into my son's hand and picturing his words, picturing
Charlie's semen spraying into me, filling me, trying to
find my eggs. I screamed in sheer rapture, and I'm glad
I was already on my hands and knees with my tits on the
floor because if I'd have been standing when that
orgasm took me I'd have pitched over onto my face.
And that was when Charlie mounted me.
Now, as I've mentioned before, dogs fuck like nothing
else on earth but they are, frankly, dumb as bag of
hammers. Charlie had been taken by my scent, by the
passion he smelled and saw and heard, by my touch of
him and by the cries I gave, and so he finally climbed
atop me and started to hump. Unfortunately, he mounted
from the front, putting his forelegs around my shoulder
and pumping his sheathed cock into my hair. I looked
up, surprised, and all I could see was heavy doggy
balls waving back and forth a few inches from my face.
"Ok, well at least he has the idea," David chuckled as
he disentangled Charlie from around my body and put all
four feet back on he floor. Charlie immediately tried
to hop up again but David was ready; he caught him and
steered him to my backside. I made sure I was in the
right position, legs splayed, pussy canted and dripping
and ready, chest low and breath held. I was still
buzzing from the orgasm David had given me and I knew
that it would swell and explode again once I felt
Charlie inside me.
I knew that I was about to have an amazing experience.
David patiently guided Charlie so he was behind me and
for the first time I felt his weight settle on my hips
and back, felt his fur brush against my waiting ass,
and felt the thrill beyond words of that hot, hard red
cock brush across the lips of my eager, needy pussy. I
drew air into my mouth in a hot gasp and waited.
And Charlie hopped off and wagged his tail.
I moaned again, this time in pure frustration. Even
David seemed a little surprised, but he tried to coax
Charlie back by patting my ass. Charlie mounted me
again, this time from the side; I'd have needed a
colostomy to have a hole where he tried to get inside
me.
"This should be natural!" I wailed. "How do dogs ever
manage to make puppies, anyway?"
David was laughing now, which only pissed me off.
There's nothing so irritating as someone laughing at
your intense frustration, and when you're frustrated at
the edge of getting something that you need as bad as I
needed Charlie at that moment, it's even worse. Still,
he guided Charlie back to my ass, lifted him up and
wrapped his legs around my waist again. Charlie looked
at him amiably, wagged his tail and tried to dismount;
but David held him on. I heard my son mumble, "Trying
to figure this out here..."
"It's not going to work, is it?" I asked despairingly.
"Sure it is," David replied confidently. "We just need
to teach him what's what, that's all. Let's see..." I
felt his hand go under, between me and Charlie, and
from the motion I thought he was jacking Charlie to get
him excited. Before I could ask what was going on,
though, I felt Charlie start to hump. And oh my Lord,
did he hump, fast and hard, slamming his furry legs
into the backs of my hips. David pulled his hand away
and I felt the hard, pointed tip of Charlie's cock
poking at my thighs. I gasped hard and braced myself
for the penetration I was certain was coming
He climbed off of me again.
"Oh for the love of... dammit!" I snapped, looking over
my shoulder to see my dog, my lovely, desired lover,
wagging his tail and grinning as though he was
inordinately pleased at himself for what he'd
accomplished. "This is the most... frustrating thing!"
David didn't laugh this time, which kept me from
killing him, but he was smiling when he took Charlie by
the collar and guided him back. This time, though,
David positioned himself behind Charlie so he could
keep him from dismounting. Once more my dog settled
onto my back and clutched at my waist with a hard grip;
it's amazing how strong his skinny little forelegs are!
Immediately he tried to hop off but David was there and
stopped it, and this time I reached one hand back and
grabbed his leg too he wasn't getting off until we
both did, so to speak.
"This time definitely, mom," David whispered as he
reached underneath and started to jack Charlie again;
Charlie immediately started to hump.
"I want him so bad, baby," I whispered.
"I know, mom," my son assured me gently. He guided
Charlie forward a couple of inches.
I felt his cock hit my labia. Not much, just the tip
and only for a second, but it sent a jolt through me
like I'd stuck my tongue in an electrical socket. It
was one of the most thrilling things I had ever felt,
and it was repeated an instant later, and again and
again. He was so close! "Just... just a little to
the..."
And then it went in.
How can I explain that moment? It wasn't as though I
had been thinking about it my whole life, because the
first I had ever seen Charlie as a sexual creature was
less than a week ago and I hadn't really started to
wonder whether I could make this happen until just this
morning. It wasn't as though a childhood dream had been
realized. And yet...and yet. Like I've explained, there
was an aching, painful gap inside of me and had been
since I was young. It was a void that I hadn't even
known about, but it was so profound that it had made me
unhappy without my even knowing it all my days.
The first instant when I felt Charlie penetrate me and
I knew that there was a canine penis inside my vagina
was the most transcendent moment I have ever
experienced. That void I had borne all these years was
suddenly not a void any more. The empty spot in my soul
had been filled. I've heard people talk about religious
experiences; I've never had one myself and I never
understood what they meant by being completed by a
force outside of yourself, being swept up and carried
to a new place you never could have gotten to on your
own. But now, in this instant, I understood. It was
more than physical, it was more than emotional. It was
spiritual. I really, truly, honestly believe that and I
always will.
The moment seemed endless but really it was only an
instant that hung in my mind because of the way it made
me feel. Charlie certainly didn't pause to give me time
to contemplate, though. He pushed into me, and what I
felt, the actual physical sensation I mean, wasn't
thrilling. If felt like a pencil being pushed into me,
honestly it was thin and short, and if I'd had the
time to mentally compare it with the pictures and
movies I'd seen of those meaty dog cocks I'm sure I'd
have been disappointed. But he didn't give me time.
He hammered me hard and fast, harder than any man ever
had and faster than any man ever could. I think the
physical feeling that struck me the most was the way
his sheath felt as it pushed against my sex; it was
warm and furry, such a strange feeling like I'd never
had before there, and I remember distinctly to this day
(in spite of all the many, many times and many dogs
I've had since) how it felt that first time.
Now that he was inside me, though, things started to
happen fast. Charlie pumped me swiftly and with each
thrust he seemed to grow inside me. Every time he
humped me he pushed in deeper, and on every backstroke
it seemed as though the cock he was pulling back was
thicker than the one that had gone in. I heard him
panting, a strange sound that I've since come to adore;
it's a mixture of heavy breathing and whining, and now
that I know it's the sound of canine pleasure it's
music to me, but then I do recall a passing thought
flicking across my brain that wondered if he was all
right. All right or not, though, he wasn't stopping.
I had spent the afternoon wondering what this moment
would be like for me and I had imagined myself
participating more, pushing back onto him as he fucked
me or wiggling my hips or something, but he really
didn't give me the chance. The fact is that dogs fuck
so beautifully hard and fast that once one is inside
you, all you can do is brace yourself and hold on. And
having no other option, that was exactly what I did: I
pushed my arms into a position that would stop him
pressing me forward with every thrust and I just took
what he gave me.
Now, that's not to say that I was a silent partner in
all this far from it. The instant I first felt him
inside me I gave a sound that was something like a
cross between a squeal and a wail. It wasn't something
I'd planned and in fact it was sort of an embarrassing
noise but... well, I was being screwed by a dog, for
God sake. You can't really be responsible for the
sounds you make when that happens. I fell into his
rhythm, or rather he forced me into his rhythm by
battering my little cunt with everything he had, and
with every thrust he wrenched a squeaky little gasp
from me.
They came so fast, one after another, that I was almost
hyperventilating. I just couldn't catch a breath
between them! And then suddenly I was coming, not so
much from the physical sensations (Charlie's cock was
still a bit on the tiny side when my orgasm hit me) but
because of what I was doing. Charlie, my dog, my love,
was inside me. I had what I needed and my body simply
responded the only way that made sense to it it threw
itself over the edge into pure, rapturous bliss. My
staccato gasps turned into a long, guttural throbbing
moan.
Usually when I orgasm, especially when the orgasm is as
profound as that one, I sort of lose track of time;
hell, I've been known to lose consciousness. But I
remember every bit of this one, every single second,
every movement, every breath, every smell and every
sound. I remember how Charlie kept pounding me at that
incredible, impossible rate.
I remember the first moment I knew his knot was in me,
swelling and growing, and I remember the first instant
it got big enough that it began to stretch me from the
inside. Lord, that sensation! It was unlike anything
I'd ever felt, inflating, expanding, but still moving,
still hammering deeper, harder, faster; at each instant
the knot felt so big that I couldn't believe it could
get bigger, but the next instant it was bigger still.
Nerves I had no idea I possessed flared into life and I
knew that I wouldn't be satisfied with them going back
to sleep again; I had tasted this ambrosia and I would
have to keep tasting it, now and forever simply, I
was addicted to a dog's cock. I remember the first
touch of the end of his cock against my cervix, pushing
it open; it wasn't pleasurable or even comfortable, but
knowing that Charlie was deeper in me than any cock had
ever been was an unspeakable thrill.
But most of all I remember the feeling of his cum or
at least I thought it was his cum, though now I've
learned the difference between a dog's cum and the lube
he squirts before he comes. The body of a dog is a few
degrees warmer than a human's; you can feel it when you
run your hand along his skin. Normally it's just a
pleasant but unremarkable fact but when a dog's cock
is inside of you it feels like fire, like the sweetest
fire imaginable. And once he gets hard, a dog will
squirt his pre-cum, more than one squirt a second in
what seems like an impossible and endless amount.
I have no idea how a dog can produce that much stuff,
but he does, and when his cock is buried in the deepest
part of your cunt you can feel each and every squirt.
Each and every squirt. I wish I had the words in my
vocabulary to tell you how that feels, but I don't.
I've tried many times and I've never come close, but
I'll try again. It feels like lava, like molten steel,
but it's the best sensation in the world. It keeps
flowing and flowing and flowing and you can feel
yourself filling up with it.
There comes a point where you feel full, where you
think that your pussy simply can't hold another drop
and it must explode out of you but his knot keeps you
bottled up tight. Certainly, a few drops escape to flow
down the insides of your thighs or drip to the floor,
but that's nothing compared to the amount his balls
pour into you. You're already stretched out around a
cock that fills you like no human cock ever could and
then you stretch some more, and more, and more, and you
keep stretching. And if that sounds painful then you're
wrong it's exquisite. It's divine. It's like reaching
out your hand and touching the face of God. It's like
coming home. And that doesn't even begin to describe
it.
So there I was on my hands and knees, impaled on
Charlie's cock and coming like a banshee. I came so
hard I felt like my skin was moving on my body, like my
heart was going to explode, like my lungs were filled
with fire. I wanted nothing more than for my sweet dog
to keep pounding me like that forever...but he didn't.
In fact, he only humped me that way for a couple of
minutes or maybe even less; at any rate it wasn't long
at all, even though it felt much longer as I came
around him.
My orgasm could have continued but when he stopped
fucking and fell motionless my orgasm slowed and
stopped too; it didn't completely subside, but it
dropped into sort of a pre-orgasmic sweet, sticky flow,
like my insides were filled with warm milk, and I knew
I could and would come again, and soon. Charlie was
straddling me, motionless and panting, his sides
heaving, his breath loud.
I knew from the labored sound of his breathing that his
tongue was out, and after a few moments I felt a wet
spot growing between my shoulders: he was drooling on
me, and for an instant I wished fervidly that wasn't
wearing this ridiculous tee shirt so that I could feel
his spit on my skin. I wanted all of him, from his cum
in my cunt to his fur on my ass to his drool on my back
and in my hair. I loved him, pure and simple.
David might have been speaking before that, but I
didn't hear him. The first I realized he was talking to
me was when he whispered, "So how does it feel, mom?"
I had laid my head on my crossed arms, and I turned it
to look at him. I gave him a dreamy smile and said,
"Baby, it's the best thing I've ever felt."
"Honest?"
"Honest. Thank you so much for giving this to me. I
never could have done this alone."
He smiled and stroked my hair, wet as it was with sweat
and dog drool. "You look beautiful, you know? Stuck to
him that way, his for as long as it takes to finish
filling your womb with his cum."
"Mmmmm," I purred. "I feel beautiful. I can feel him
coming inside me. He's so hot and there's so much of
it..."
"Just lie there and feel it, mom," David urged me
quietly. "He's going to be stuck this way for a long
time."
"How long?"
"Well I guess every dog is different, but...well, ten
minutes to half an hour."
"Oh my God," I whispered. That was the sexiest thing I
had ever heard, being impaled on Charlie's knot and
tied to him for thirty minutes, helpless to move until
his cock got soft enough to come out on its own. "I
want to cum again..."
"Put your hand on your clit and make yourself cum
then," he smiled.
I smiled back. "Why don't you do it for me, baby?"
He looked like I'd just given him the best gift he'd
ever had. He smiled hugely and his beautiful face lit
up like Christmas morning. "I'd love to," he told me,
"but I've got one hand on Charlie's ass and the other
on his leg. I'm holding him in. I really don't think
you'd like it if he tried to pull out right now with
his knot stuck in you this way."
"Mmmm, well I owe you a chance to rub my clit then," I
chuckled.
"I'll take a rain check," he chuckled with me, "and
you'd better believe I'll collect on it too."
"I want you to, David," I told him as I shifted enough
to slide a hand back along my belly and one finger on
either side of my clit. "I think I'll want you to do it
for me a lot from now on."
I touched myself then, and the warm feeling I had in my
tummy quickly flared up again and turned into another
climax, a rolling sort of climax that had peaks and
valleys but didn't stop for a long time. When I started
to cum again and my insides spasmed around Charlie's
cock, he began to move again, fucking me just for a bit
and pushing his shaft and his knot even deeper into me.
It was a heavenly, perfect experience, and the fact
that I was sharing it with my son made it all the
better. He was still coming inside me and I could feel
that mass of sperm in my abdomen, like I had suddenly
developed a pot belly; to know that I was so loaded
with my dog's cum that I was actually showing the
effects was an aphrodisiac like none other. I kept that
orgasm going for as long as I could until the pleasure
began to fade and the sensations became too much, and
then I pulled my hand away and rested my chin on my
arms as before and simply enjoyed being tied to my
lover.
I stayed that way for eighteen minutes. Eighteen. Just
there, on my hands and knees, my dog inside me the way
I had always craved. It was eighteen minutes of simple
wordlessness, eighteen minutes of feeling and
experiencing and marking everything to memory so that,
no matter what would come in the future, I would always
have this moment. I started to ache after a few
minutes, because the position was unnatural, the wood
floor beneath me was not cushioned by the bedsheet, and
75 lbs. of Charlie on my back wasn't exactly
comfortable after a few minutes.
But I didn't complain; the pain as part of the
experience, and in my lingering afterglow it felt like
something I needed to have, not quite as penance for
the pleasure he'd given me so much as just a way to
ground me and make the whole thing feel real and
honest. Of course the ache kept growing such that by
the end I was in a hell of a lot of hurt, but that was
still all right. I'd correct it next time, with
cushions or maybe a low padded stool to rest my chest
on, but for now it was all right just to be tied and
feeling what my dog was giving me.
After a while, of course, he stopped coming, but his
cock didn't start to shrink immediately.
It remained hard and lodged deep inside me, giving me a
wonderful still fullness that seemed not ready to end
now or any time in the near future. In fact my
afterglow wore off to the point that I was just
considering reaching back and rubbing out another
climax when he tried to pull out of me. Now, he was
maybe a little bit softer than he had been at his
hardest, but... yikes. It felt like he was trying to
yank my pelvis out through my coochie! My whole body
rocked backward with the effort and I gave a startled
yelp of surprise and pain (bad pain, not the good kind
of him on my back); it was only David's hand that held
him on.
"What's wrong?" David asked anxiously. "Did that hurt?"
"Owwie, owwie, owwie," was my reply. "He's still way
too big inside me to get out without tearing me wide
open!"
"OK, just relax," my boy counseled me. "I've got him by
the butt and by the leg so he won't go anywhere I don't
let him. All right?"
"All right, I'm fine," I replied. "It was just
surprising, I guess."
We were quiet for a bit, and then David told me
something very surprising: "Mom, I'm really proud of
you."
I turned my head to look at him and cocked an eyebrow.
"Because I fucked a dog?"
"Yes," he nodded.
I couldn't help but laugh, and laughing felt good right
then. "That's a heck of a reason to be proud of
someone, kiddo."
He didn't laugh back. "You don't understand, mom. It's
not because you did it, exactly. It's because you did
something that you needed to do. It was unknown, a
little scary. It was hard and it was taboo. Like you
said, most people wouldn't understand this. But you had
the courage to do it because you needed it. That took
some guts."
My expression had turned from puzzlement to love, and I
felt myself melting inside for my son. "Baby,
that's...that's a beautiful thing to say to me."
"I mean it, mom."
"I know you do."
We shared a smile. He stroked my hair. Charlie got
smaller inside of me and a few minutes later he was
fidgeting like he wanted to get off. "You can let him
off me," I told David. "I think he's OK."
"Are you sure?"
"No," I laughed, "but we'll just see how it goes."
David took his hands away and I braced myself, and
within a few seconds Charlie gave a tug. It was a hard
tug still, and I felt my opening stretching in a way I
hadn't felt since Laurel had come out of there 15 years
before. I pushed back and tried to relax but there was
only so much I could do. There was a bright flash of
pain and a loud, sloppy noise, and then he was out of
me.
I've always loved the feeling I got when a man pulled
out of me after a fuck. That feeling of being
stretched, of my pussy having accommodated itself to
his size and shape, of simply being open. But I had
never felt anything remotely like this. I was spread
wider than I had ever been after sex, and deeper, and
it felt like there was a marvelous vacancy all the way
up to my lungs. But more than that, much more, was the
flood of juices that came out of me when Charlie took
his cock away. It was a gush, a sloppy wet mess that
exploded delightfully out of me and spattered across he
backs of my legs and onto the bed sheet beneath me.
Had I known, of course, that there had been a hell of a
lot of cum inside me I'd felt every drop but I
still hadn't been prepared for this. I squealed in
thrilled amazement as it flowed out and kept flowing
out, as my body emptied of my juices and his and the
marvelous mixture they had made. It was almost enough
by itself to give me another orgasm, and if I hadn't
been so shocked by it I could have bought myself off
with the barest touch.
"Holy... fuck," David said in awe. "That's the hottest
fucking thing I have ever seen in my life..."
I opened my mouth to reply but my words were drowned
out by a gasp of pleasure as Charlie put his tongue up
inside me again. And began to lick. He was seeking the
rich blend we had created together, but at the time the
sensation was so unexpected and so overwhelming that I
had no chance of thinking about it even remotely
rationally. I got my last orgasm of the night then and
I didn't' have to do a thing except sit there and feel
that superb canine tongue licking me inside and out. I
screamed my release and kept screaming until it was
done.
"God damn it mom," David said softly and delightedly
when Charlie pulled away and walked over to the corner
to lie down, lick his cock, and fall asleep. Ah,
typical male, no conversation afterward...
I just grinned up at my son. "Help me up," I told him,
and he did, guiding me slowly to my feet and keeping
his hands on my arms for the few seconds it took my
legs to stop wobbling.
"How do you feel?" he asked, hands still stroking the
skin of my forearms. His eyes were glowing with love
and lust, satisfaction and need, and I adored the way
he looked at that moment.
"I feel fantastic," I told him. "I feel like I've
finally gotten what I've always needed. I feel fucked
out and used hard and I love it." I paused, then added,
"And I feel like I want to be naked. Undress me?"
His grin was all the answer I got or needed, and in a
moment he had my shirt up over my head and off. He
crouched in front of me and opened my crotchless jeans,
pulling them down over my hips and letting me put a
hand on his shoulder to steady myself as I stepped out
of them. At this point, any hint of modesty in front of
my son would have been ludicrous, so I didn't' bother.
I stood in front of him, bare as the day I was born, my
shaved and well-fucked cunt gaping and dripping dog cum
three inches in front of his nose, and I watched his
horny face as he drank me in.
He was going to say something, but I cut him off. "Now,
I think you deserve a thank you for tonight, and for
understanding."
"Mom, it's nothing to..."
"Shhhh," I whispered, putting a finger across his lips.
"Stand up." He did so, his eyes sparkling. I'm pretty
sure he knew what was coming. At any rate he definitely
figured it out when I locked eyes with him, wrapped my
hand around his cock, and slowly sank to me knees in
front of him.
"Mom," he said delightedly, cradling the side of my
head in his big, sure hand. "What in the world do you
have in mind?"
"Mmmm, don't you know?" I asked, looking up at him with
wide eyes and casually stroking him.
"No, I'm really confused," he told me guilelessly, his
eyes wide. "Why don't you tell me?"
I extended my tongue and flicked it lightly across the
very head of his cock, just a quick touch, barely a
caress. But his cock leaped in my hand, something that
made me very happy. "Well... I think I'm going to suck
this beautiful cock of yours," I told him, never taking
my eyes off his face. "I'm going to put my mouth on you
and suck you until you cum for me. And if you want to
grab me by the hair and fuck my face like a cunt, you
can do that too."
His smile got huge at the invitation to treat me a
little rough, and I knew I was in for a face-fucking.
The very idea was thrilling, my own son using my mouth
for his pleasure! I wasn't ready yet to have him inside
my sex, but I was more than ready for this. He stroked
my face and asked, "And where do you want me to cum?"
"Where do you want to cum?"
His grin got very naughty indeed. "How about your
pussy?"
I responded by putting the tip of my tongue at the base
of his shaft, immediately above his balls, and running
it right up the big vein on the underside until I came
to the head; I flicked my tongue underneath it
teasingly and said, "Now be good. If you want to cum on
my tits, you can. If you want to cover my face with it,
you can. If you cum in my mouth I'll swallow every drop
you give me, I promise."
"God damn," David sighed, looking down at me. "Do you
have any idea how many times I've imagined you like
this? Naked, on your knees, my cock in your hand and
getting ready to suck it?"
"Tell me how often," I whispered back as I placed the
flat of my tongue on the base of his cock and began to
swirl it around the thick, meaty rod. I wanted to hear
his words when I sucked him because I knew they would
be lewd, sensuous, crude, and that was what I wanted. I
wanted to revel in this moment and let my son revel in
it too, and to do that I wanted to strip away every bit
of artificiality and gentility. I wanted it to be raw,
urgent, needful, just the way Charlie had been for me
because just like David had helped me fill my need with
Charlie, now I was filling one of David's needs; I
wanted it to be honest for him, and to be as
unforgettable as my own experience was.
I felt his hand curl in my hair. He wasn't controlling
me, not yet, but he was sending me a signal that he
would take control and use me when the moment struck
him. I loved it, and I loved it too when he growled,
"I've thought about this every day. Every single day
for years. I've wanted you this way, wanted you ready
to please me. I've wanted you to want to please me.
I've wanted you on your knees begging for my cock."
I arched an eyebrow. "Begging?"
"Begging."
My smile was salacious and my eyes were fiery as I took
my hand away and laid it on my knee. He had earned
this, and if he wanted me to beg for the chance to suck
him then I would beg. I made my eyes wide and desperate
and said, "Please, baby. Please let mommy suck your
big, fat cock. I want it so bad!"
I was just playing a role for him, of course, but the
look on his face made it more than worth it. There was
such bliss there that I almost thought he would cum
without me touching him again, but after a moment
something else came into his eyes, something hard and
masterful that made me shiver...and not entirely in a
good way, though I only thought of that later. He
wrapped a hand around the base of his shaft and held it
out to me, and I obediently opened wide and stuck out
my tongue. I expected him to put it in my mouth, but he
surprised me by putting it against my cheek.
I kept my mouth open, uncertain about what he was
doing, but he didn't put it there; instead he began to
rub it over my cheeks, first left and then right. He
dragged it across my nose, across my chin, up onto my
forehead. I felt that thick, warm piece of meat move
across my skin, leaving a trail of precum on my face to
dry cool. I could smell his arousal, the masculine
smell of his semen, and couldn't help but wonder if his
tasted different from Tim's. I closed my eyes and let
him do what he wanted, but it wasn't until we were
finished and I was in bed that I realized what he had
been doing then.
He was marking his territory.
"Open your eyes," he ordered me, his voice sharp and
strong, and I did as he told me. He towered above me,
and our eyes were locked in lust. I waited, hungry to
take him, and he made me wait for a handful of
heartbeats. And then, firmly, he said, "Suck my cock,
slut."
I did. Without hesitation I put my lips around the end
of him and hollowed my cheeks, caressing him with my
lips and flicking him with my tongue. My hands came up,
one moving around to cup his ass and the other cradling
his heavy, pendulous balls in a gentle caress. For a
long, sweet moment I savored the feel of him in my
mouth, savored his heat and the texture of his skin,
and then I began to take him deeper into my throat,
inch by slow inch.
I have to say here that I was hardy an expert
cocksucker then. I've developed much more skill since
then, of course, because I've practiced on a lot of
different cocks in a lot of different circumstances,
but then I had little enough skill and what skill I had
was rusted from disuse. But what I lacked in technique
I tried to make up for in enthusiasm and willingness,
because I wanted this to be a wonderful thing for my
son. I kept my lips tight around him and let my tongue
dance, flicking and dashing along every bit of him I
could reach. I made the tip hard and pointed and ran it
up under the crown. I caressed the big vein and I
reveled in the feel of every ripple and whorl of skin.
I felt his heartbeat against my tongue.
I delighted in his warmth. I took him in as slowly as I
could, building gradually, wanting him to last a long
time so that his orgasm, when it finally came, would
take the legs out from under him. He grunted as I
hollowed my cheeks against him, and he gasped when I
teased his balls with my fingertips. I wasn't skilled
enough then to keep from gagging when I took the whole
thing in my mouth, so I choked a little as my lips took
the last couple of inches inside and held them there,
snug against his body and my nose buried in his pubic
hair. I drew back...
And then he started to take me. His hand locked firmly
in my hair and held me in place and he began to rock
his hips into me, pumping his cock in and out of my
mouth. I knew he was going to do this I had almost
told him to so it came as no surprise. And besides,
at first he was gentle enough. He fucked my mouth long
and slow, letting my work on him with my tongue on the
in and on the out.
I kept my eyes on his face, watching him to see what he
liked and what he didn't, but to tell the truth I think
he was so enthralled at finally having me this way that
the finer points were lost on him. I tried to keep my
hand on his balls but as his pace picked up I couldn't,
not without hurting him anyway, so I put both hands on
his ass, squeezed his cheeks, and let him screw my
mouth.
And that was exactly what he did. He may have started
out slow and easy but he didn't stay that way for long.
Within a few moments he was thrusting harder, pushing
himself into the back of my throat with every plunge. I
couldn't do much to please him that way except keep my
lips tight and try to make sure my tongue was out of
his way, but he didn't seem to mind. He didn't even
mind when a particularly hard thrust made me gag a bit
in fact, I think he liked the fact that he was making
his mom gag on his cock and I was doing nothing to stop
him.
To tell the truth, I liked it too.
He didn't last long, certainly not as long as he would
have liked, but then when you're realizing a life's
ambition you're inclined to get a little excited. His
pace was fast, his hand holding me motionless and his
balls slapping against my chin, and I could see by the
look on his face that he was fighting to hold back his
orgasm and losing the fight. I wondered where he
would cum, whether he would put it in my mouth or pull
it out and spray it onto me; either way would be a
delight for both of us.
I squeezed his ass cheeks, trying to tell him that he
was doing fine I'm not sure whether the message got
through or not, but his thrusts got faster and harder,
his breath coming in ragged little gasping moans as he
sucked air past his clenched teeth. "Fuck mom," he
snarled, "this feels so fucking good! I've wanted this
for so fucking long!"
"Mmmmppphhh," was all I could say with a mouth full of
incestuous cock, so that was what I said, and I swirled
my tongue in my mouth in an effort to give him more
sensation; I doubt that I succeeded, but it was the
thought that counted.
"Oh God oh God oh God," he muttered softly over and
over as he screwed his eyes shut tight. His chest was
heaving, he sounded like a steam train with his
staccato breathing, and his hand was so tight in my
hair that it hurt, but I didn't mind a bit. My son was
going to cum for me and I loved it. "I'm gonna...I'm
gonna...oh fuck mom..."
"Mmmmmmpppphhhh!" I moaned emphatically, hollowing my
cheeks to suck him hard.
"Gonna...gonna cum..." And then he did. The mystery of
what he would do with it was solved when he pushed deep
into my mouth and held himself there for one heartbeat,
two, three. I tried not to breathe so I wouldn't retch
at the intruder in my throat. He sucked in a deep
breath and held it. His cock leaped in my mouth,
twitched and spasmed. He moaned deep and hard and
gutturally...
His cum exploded into my mouth. And I do mean it
exploded. There was a blast of it that doused my
throat, its salty tang inundating my senses with its
sheer power. *Different from Tim,* my mind told me, and
in an instant I amended it: *Better...* He was
delicious. He drew his cock back enough that I could
swallow what he was giving me, but there was so much of
it, it was so thick and rich, and it came so fast that
I almost had it overflow my lips and dribble down my
chin.
But swallow I did, as rapidly as I could, and after
what seemed like an endless number of spasms and
squirts, my boy stopped orgasming and I could start
sucking him again. I had told him I wanted every drop
he had and I meant it. My tongue and lips and cheeks
started working again, and now he was too spent to do
more than stand there on wobbly legs and take it. He
kept his eyes closed as I milked the last of his seed
out of him, but a satisfied smile crept across his
face. He licked his lips and said, softly and
adoringly, "You dirty little whore... you sweet little
cocksucking whore..."
Before David, no man had ever really talked dirty to me
before. I was discovering, though, that I like it...a
lot, in fact. I gave a delighted laugh around his cock
and kept sucking until there was no more sperm to be
had, then leaned back on my haunches and gave him a
self-satisfied smile. He opened his eyes and looked
down at me, and I up at him, and we stayed that way for
a happy heartbeat until I asked, wide eyed and
innocent, "Did you like that, baby?"
"Oh Lord..." was all he managed to say, and we both
laughed. It was an amazing moment in time I had my
dog's sperm drizzling out of my cunt and my son's sperm
in my belly and I had fulfilled at least some of the
dreams of two people. The taboo of what we had just
done didn't even enter my mind. I was as happy as I had
ever been, right then and right there. It was the
perfect instant.
And then David's distracted, dreamy smile slowly
changed into something very, very different, and I
recognized it as the smile he wore when he was about to
do, or had done, something terrible. My own smile froze
on my face and I wondered at his expression.
And then he calmly walked across the living room to a
shelf on the opposite wall. It was a shelf where I kept
knick-knacks and gewgaws like a crystal bird and a
couple of books that were there for show and not
reading. I didn't even have time to wonder what he was
playing at before he reached up and took something
small and inconspicuous from behind the bird. He turned
and held it out to me, and when I recognized what it
was, my blood froze inside me and all the good feelings
I had about the night vanished in a single second.
It was a spy camera.
"Amazing things, these little gadgets," he said
cheerfully. "They give a great quality picture, rigged
up to send wireless to a DVR."
My eyes got enormous. "You!"
He laughed at me. "Got the whole thing too. You stayed
framed in the shot just perfect, I'm sure."
"God damn you, David!"
"If I thought he existed, I'd be worried," he grinned,
tossing the camera up and catching it on the way down.
"But if I were you, I'd be more worried about me."
I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. "David...how
COULD you?" I demanded, trying to keep the tears at
bay. "Why would you do that when we did what we just
did?"
"For posterity," was his cheerful, evil answer. "Oh,
and for insurance. Now that you've gotten what you
wanted, well, I thought you might not be so eager to
give me what I want. And I can't have that."
"You...MOTHERFUCKER!" I howled, leaping to my feet. I
was still wearing those damned stilettos though, and I
nearly pitched over onto my face.
"Not yet," he said calmly. "But I will be."
The profanities I hurled at him as he walked laughingly
up the stairs aren't really fit for print, and to tell
the truth I'm not sure they even made much sense. Pure,
unadulterated betrayal and rage can make a person
incoherent. But he ignored me like I wasn't even
there...
And suddenly I had to puke. I clamped my hand over my
mouth and sprinted to the bathroom, leaving a trail of
dog jizz all the way. I made it to the toilet just in
time to lose all my son's cum and the wonderful dinner
we'd shared. I stayed over the toilet for a long, long
time, crying and trying not to completely lose my shit.
I am ashamed to report I failed in that.
But panic only lasts for so long, and when it was over
I had a mess to clean up. I heard David come down the
stairs and slam the door behind him as he left, and the
sound of the door closing jarred some sense into me.
Tim and Laurel were going to be home soon and I
couldn't let them find the living room the way it was,
or me the way I was. I cleaned myself off with a towel
and then used it to wipe up the dog sperm that had
wound up anywhere but the old sheet.
My "dog fucking outfit", the slinky little white dress,
and David's suit and underwear wound up wrapped in that
sheet, which I ran upstairs and shoved deep beneath my
bed until I could figure out what to do with it. The
shoes joined it, and in a flash I was in the shower,
letting the scaldingly hot water wash over me and
trying to rinse and spit the taste of humiliation out
of my mouth.
I was in bed when, at hour and a half later, Tim and
Laurel got home. I heard the door close downstairs
behind them and I heard their laughter. I heard Tim's
footsteps on the stairs as he came up to check on me.
He poked his head into the darkened room and said,
"Honey?" but I pretended to be asleep, just like I
pretended to be asleep a couple of hours after that
when he came to bed. He drifted off quickly, his faint
snore familiar and comforting next to me, his body warm
beneath the sheets of our marriage bed.
I didn't sleep a wink that night.
To be continued?
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 62