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Message-ID: <48940asstr$1093263003@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: rache696@yahoo.com (Rache)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 23 Aug 2004 01:42:00 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Midnight (M/F, F/dog, Rom, Slow)
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Date: Mon, 23 Aug 2004 08:10:03 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Story Codes: M/F, F/dog, Rom, Slow

Copyright 2004 Rachael P. Ross. All rights reserved. May be
reposted/archived to FREE adult access provided my name, email
rache696@yahoo.com and this notice are included in the message text.
The names and descriptions of some persons and locations are
deliberately inaccurate.

Author's note: This is pretty darn close to the truth. About as close
as I can get looking backwards across 4 years or so. I left out a lot,
electing instead to write about things that are hopefully a little
interesting. It's hard to write a "story" about myself and my dog, and
a straight narrative history seems really boring, so this is sort of
somewhere in between. -rr

My Midnight 
By Rachael

Summer of 2000 was an exciting time for me. I turned 18 on July 27th,
which probably should have been the highlight. But it wasn't. Not
because I didn't want it to be, don't get me wrong, I expected it to
be huge. At the time though it just seemed to be another big thing in
a magical summer full of them.

I was spending the summer with my Aunt Jean, who owned a small horse
ranch in Quebec. I'd gone along with my father for a visit and ended
up staying through the middle of August. My Aunt had organized a
family reunion, one of the rare ones that happen maybe once or twice
in a lifetime, if you're lucky. Relatives came from all over, even as
far away as Europe, and I met them all. That was pretty exciting.

But the best thing was my newfound interest in sex. This may sound a
little strange, coming from a girl who was eighteen years old
(finally!) and just graduated high school. You'd think I'd have
discovered boys long since and the truth was that I had. And they had
no problem discovering me too. I'm Amerasian and decidedly cute, if
not exactly beautiful, with long black hair, caramel skin and dark
eyes. I'm petite all over and very active, I love working my body and
I don't mind showing it off. So maybe an interest in just sex isn't
entirely accurate.

I had a newfound interest in sex with a different species. Dogs to be
exact. I remember the first time I'd had a crush on a boy. I couldn't
sleep, I couldn't eat. I couldn't stay away from him, and I couldn't
stand to be near him. It was giddy and wonderful and mercifully, it
was altogether fleeting as such things go. Less than a month. My
interest in canines was worse. A lot worse, if you can believe it.
Mostly because I skipped all the usual human courting behaviors and
jumped right into mating with a bulldog named Mike.

I've told that story before, however, so I'll skip over it. Mike was a
good dog, a great friend and the perfect partner for a canine virgin
like me. By the time my four weeks or so with Aunt Jean were over,
Mike and I had pretty much done everything you could imagine. A few
times. Believe me, it was terribly difficult packing my bags knowing I
would probably never see that dog again. I was going back to Seattle
and my unsuspecting boyfriend. A guy who had never gotten me as
excited as Mike could.

When I got back home I was pretty busy, of course. I had to get ready
for school, for one thing. I was starting college and that was another
big deal. The good news was my applications had long since been
processed and my course load had been pretty much settled on already.
A very good friend of mine, a man named Paul, whom we will meet again,
believe me, was just starting his doctoral program at the time, and he
was a huge help. We'd been seeing each other, on and off, for awhile
and...it's complicated. I've written a lot about him.

I had to see my boyfriend too, but that was somehow less important to
me than I'd imagined it would be. Of course it was a big deal for him,
we hadn't seen each other in forever, or so he made it sound over the
phone. I had to catch up with my friends, go shopping, fix the house
up again. My Daddy had been alone for two months, oh my God - you
don't even want to imagine what the bathrooms looked like. And the
refrigerator was empty! He probably hadn't cooked anything the whole
time.

But mostly I had to get a dog.

=-=-=-

I heard a story once and I often think about it. Napoleon told his
generals that he wanted trees planted along the roads in France, so
that his soldiers would have shade as they marched. One of the
generals spoke up, saying "But sir, it takes many years to grow such
trees." And Napoleon turned to the man and replied, "Then we'd better
start planting them today."

I slipped into the living room one night after I finished cleaning up
in the kitchen, sliding down to my familiar spot on the floor and
leaning against my father's legs. He was watching some baseball or
football thing, or whatever, so it must have been a Monday. Or maybe a
Sunday, I don't know. It was in August. I put my arm on his thigh and
laid my head across it, so I was watching a bunch of guys running this
way and that, sideways.

"Daddy?" I said softly.

"Hmmm?"

"I want to get a dog." My heart was pounding in my chest, although I
sincerely hoped he wouldn't notice. I spoke slowly, trying to control
my breathing, just in case.

"Oh? Why's that, Lisa?" He didn't sound suspicious, just reasonably
curious.

"I don't know. I think it would just be nice to have one around here.
The house is sort of quiet when you're gone." I shrugged a little.
"You know."

My father is a field engineer for a major aircraft manufacturer in
Seattle and he travels a lot. "Do you know anything about dogs?" He
kind of chuckled and I knew what he was thinking.

I'd had three pets in my whole life. A fish, a bird, and a hamster.
They'd all died slow and painful deaths. Not intentionally, I mean. I
just sort of...forgot about them. Sometimes. But I was just a kid then.
I was eighteen now and starting college. I took care of my Dad and
myself just fine, and I managed the house okay. And believe me, I
wasn't going to forget my dog!

"I don't know." I admitted. "Aunt Jean's dog was...nice." I had to
search for the right word.

My Daddy did laugh at that. "That ugly bulldog she had?" He stroked my
hair. "That dog was a menace!"

"No!" I giggled too. "He just needed attention." I was going to say
more but I caught myself, worrying I'd said too much.

"You liked him, huh?" My Daddy sounded like he was surprised. "Well,
if you want one it's okay with me. You're the one who has to feed it
and clean up after it."

"I know!" I tried to contain my excitement. "I'll take care of
everything! Oh Daddy! Thank you!" I jumped up and hugged him before he
even had a chance to think about the possibility of changing his mind!

The little girl act always worked with him. It still does and I'm
spoiled because of it, but...I'm not complaining.

"Where are you going now?" He asked as I started going up the stairs
two at a time.

"Steve's picking me up at seven, Daddy!" I gave him a lopsided grin as
he looked at his watch. It was about 6:50 and he knew he was going to
have to studiously ignore the guy for a good 45 minutes while I got
dressed. Daddy just sighed.

=-=-=

"C'mon Lisa, I've missed you so much, baby." Steve was whispering in
my ear while his hand slid a little further up my thigh, slipping
under the hem of my skirt. His other hand was around my shoulders, a
finger stroking at the side of my left breast through my blouse.

"Steven...please!" I whispered. We were at the Cineplex in the Everett
Mall, theoretically to watch a movie. But in reality it was just a
cheap alternative to a motel room. That wasn't entirely Steve's fault
though, I mean he had suggested a motel room an hour earlier, but I'd
said no.

"Lisa!" His frustration was becoming obvious and annoying. This was
our third date since I'd gotten back from my summer vacation in Canada
and we'd done little more than make out during each of them. "What's
wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just not in the mood, okay?" Some people were turning
around to look at us and I slunk down a little lower in my seat.

"You're never in the mood." He made a rueful clucking noise. "You used
to be in the mood all the time." He tried again, getting close and
kissing at my neck until I bent away from him.

"Steve, I just need some time...okay?" I didn't really know what to say
at all. I just didn't feel like doing anything, I didn't know why. He
was still cute, still fun to be around, still the same old Steve that
I'd been going out with for nearly a year. But I just didn't feel the
same.

"Some time? You've had the whole summer!" Somebody shushed us and
Steve made a face back at them before turning to me. "What happened?
You meet some guy or something? You don't like me anymore, is that
it?"

I sighed. What is it with guys? I mean why is it if I don't feel like
putting out he assumes there's something wrong? Our relationship is
over because I won't let him feel my tits? God, I really hated that
crap. If he'd just relax, then I could relax, and then...everything
would work out. I was sure of it and I tried to explain it to him like
that, but he wasn't listening. Steve was too busy finding reasons
where there weren't any.

And while he was doing that I was thinking how much simpler life would
be if Steve was a dog. Mike had never behaved like this, well...he was
worse actually. He humped legs every chance he got, and he wasn't
picky about who they belonged to either. But at the same time, once
you pried his paws loose and sent him on his way with a firm word,
Mike just grinned, licked his nose, and wandered off. No hurt
feelings, no regrets or tears, everything was just fine for him. You
were still buddies.

I didn't want to break up with Steve. He was almost 20 and I sort of
loved him, or at least I liked him a lot, anyway. I enjoyed being with
him, mostly. I even enjoyed the sex, the few times we'd gone all the
way. It hadn't been really good, but it had gotten better from the
first time to the second, but he just wanted a third time a little
quicker than I was prepared to give it to him. Which sounded
ridiculous, even to me, because I'd been putting out for a dog every
chance I'd had.

And that was part of my reluctance, I have to admit. Since I'd left my
Aunt Jean's house, I'd masturbated at least once a day thinking about
Mike. Remembering how he'd made me feel, the things we'd done
together. I knew that anything I experienced with Steve would be a let
down after that. So, I made a mistake, as I understand it now, and
denied Steve his amorous intentions. I should have embraced my
relationship with him, I think now, and enjoyed it for what it was.
But I'm so much more mature now than I was then and I realize now that
my boyfriends weren't in competition with my dog.

But we'll get to that.

Steve dropped me off at my house earlier than usual, pleasing my Daddy
greatly, I'm sure. He didn't bother walking me to the door though and
a kiss goodnight would have been poor compensation, so he didn't even
try. I felt very sad right then, very lonely and I let myself in the
house quietly. I went upstairs to my room, feeling like crying and
really hoping I wouldn't. It wasn't my fault, I kept telling myself.
Just say no, sure...everything will be just fine. And pigs can fly.

I took off my clothes in the darkness, not bothering about where they
landed as I tossed them aimlessly. I stripped naked and laid down on
my bed, finding the huge stuffed bear I'd had forever and embracing it
like a lover. It was nearly as big as I was, very soft and warm. I had
one of his legs between my thighs, against my exposed sex, and I
rocked myself slowly against it. I wouldn't cry, I promised myself.
I'd do anything but that.

I imagined, as I had many times, that my stuffed toy was a real live
and breathing thing. A dog, a wonderfully soft and understanding
animal who loved me. I imagined his tongue on my face, his tail
wagging happily, slapping softly against my thighs. His paws with
rough little pads and sharp nails, scratching my skin as we moved.

I felt my stomach tightening, like little butterflies growing inside
me, tickling me. My nipples hardened and itched madly, so I rubbed
them across the soft fur. I felt the humidity rising between my
thighs, the dampness and the pleasant little buzz of my clitoris as
she began to wake. I pushed and pulled at my lover, rocking my hips
slightly and biting at his fur covered shoulder to trap my little
sighs. I masturbated again, for the 12th straight day since I'd come
back home, finding only a fraction of the pleasure Mike had given me.
I fell asleep clutching my toy, breathless and sweating and utterly
desperate for more.

I needed a dog.

=-=-=-

"Do you have a particular breed in mind?" The guy asked me. His name
was Ray and he was nice. He worked for the Seattle Animal Shelter and
he knew an awful lot about dogs, I thought.

We were walking through a big tin building filled with cages with
mostly sleeping or barking dogs. None of them seemed to be sitting
quietly. Animal Control, which is the fancy modern name for dog
catchers, brought in some of them. A lot of them were brought in by
their owners though. People who were moving, or had bought Junior a
puppy for Christmas before they knew how much attention it really
needed, or just needed to get rid of a dog.

I saw some dogs that interested me, but they were older, already full
grown and I'd decided I wanted a puppy. Partly for the same reasons
everyone does, I suppose, puppies are cute and fun. But also because I
wanted a dog that I could trust. One that grew up with only me, that
had no memories of reward or punishment, or a home and mistress he'd
never see again.

I didn't know anything about dogs. But Ray did. "I'm not sure
exactly." I replied to his question. "I want a puppy."

He laughed at that. "Everyone wants puppies, that's why we have so
many adults here." He smiled at me, sort of looking me over for the
third or fourth time, I knew. It made me a little self-conscious, but
that was a small price to pay for his undivided attention. "If you
want a puppy then you need to ask yourself what kind of a dog do you
want 3 years from now. A lot of people don't and they end up in here."

"Oh." I nodded as if I understood. "But...I don't know." I giggled and
felt sort of dumb.

"Okay. Start with the basics. Do you want a big dog or a little dog?"
If he was making fun of me, I didn't mind. "And before you answer
that, think about what kind of house you have. How much room it'll
have. If it's going to stay inside or outside."

"We have a big house." I was talking as much to myself as to Ray.
"He'll stay inside, definitely. In my room." I said without thinking.

"Well if it's a big house, you can probably have a big dog." Ray
chuckled. "How big is big though?"

"Mmmm..." I had no idea. "How big do they get?"

"Bigger than you!" He laughed and took the opportunity to look me up
and down slowly. "You get something like a Great Dane and you could
ride it to work."

"I'm starting at UW, I'm not sure they'd give me a parking sticker."

"Get a Husky!" Ray grinned and I laughed a little and we kept walking
and talking. It was a lot of fun and by the end of 20 or 30 minutes I
had a pretty good idea of what I wanted: A dog my size, with short
hair, a friendly disposition, and an even temperament. It had to be
smart, loyal, playful, and male.

"You want my best advice?" We were standing outside the shelter. Ray
had walked me out to my car.

"Yeah." I smiled and brushed my hair out of my eyes. It was a windy
day, but at least it wasn't raining yet. "I would."

"Get a Lab." He nodded.

"A Lab?"

"Yeah. A Labrador Retriever."

"What do they look like?" The only retriever I could think of  was one
of those golden ones, long hair and all. "Are they big?"

"They're big, but not real big. A good 75 pounds or so when full
grown. They come in different flavors too." He laughed at the
expression on my face. "Like Black and Chocolate. Depending on what
color they are, more than anything."

"Oh." A Chocolate Lab sounded interesting. Delicious even.

"I know a breeder or two. If you want, I could check around for you."
Ray was my Daddy's age, he probably had grandchildren. So I braced
myself for what I hoped wasn't coming.

"That would be great, thanks." I smiled and nodded too.

"Give me a call here at the shelter in a day or two and maybe I'll
have something." He gave me a last smile. "You look like you're
serious." Which struck me as an odd thing to say, but I think it was
meant as a real compliment. Mostly I was just glad he hadn't asked me
for my phone number. I really wanted to like Ray.

=-=-=

The woman who owned the shop didn't have any Lab puppies, but she did
own a 3 year old. "So this is a Black Labrador?" We were standing in
front of the checkout counter and the large dog was resting
peacefully. The lady coaxed her dog to life, so it stretched lazily
and smiled at us.

"Well, mostly. She's a mix, a little shepherd in there I think. But
that's pretty much what a full grown black lab looks like." The woman
looked at me. "Too big for you?"

"No." I shook my head rapidly. "She looks perfect." And she did too. 

When she stood up I could see the dog was maybe 20 inches or so at the
shoulder and the woman said her dog weighed 70lbs. That didn't really
sound like that much, but the woman said it was about right for a
female Lab her size. A Malamute she said, about the same size, would
weigh maybe 20 pounds more. But they needed it. Labs didn't. I didn't
really know about Malamutes, I wasn't even sure if that was a dog or
some pygmy tribesman in Australia.

"Labs are wonderful dogs. They're good sized, very even tempered,
loyal and obedient. Real easy to train. If you want a friend to keep
you company, a lab is a good choice. They're sporting dogs, love to
play. Good protectors too, if that's what you're looking for. Not
quite a Doberman or a Pit Bull of course."

"Right." I'd looked at a Doberman. It had been beautiful, sleek and
dangerous looking. The man I'd talked to had said they were a lot
friendlier than most people thought and could be very gentle. Pit
Bulls just scared the hell out of me.

I was in my 5th pet shop of the day and everyone I talked to agreed
that Labs were an excellent choice. The breed seemed to have no
faults. The sales people all had their favorites of course, depending
on what was in stock - one guy tried to talk me into buying an iguana
- but my mind was pretty much made up by then.

=-=-=

"Hi Ray! It's Lisa, I was in the shelter the other day...?"

"Right! Hi! I'm glad you called, hey! Have you found what you were
looking for yet?" I could hear Ray's smile through the phone.

"No, uh-uh, but a Lab sounds better and better. I think I've made up
my mind at least."

"Good. I called a friend of mine, a woman up in Mount Vernon who has a
little kennel. She's a breeder and guess what, she's got some Labs.
Uh..." Ray paused and I imagine he was looking through some notes, or
something. "A litter of 6 that are only a couple weeks old, so they
won't be going anywhere for awhile. And she's got 4 pups that are 13
weeks, 1 male and 3 female."

"Really? I want a male." I said.

"Well, she's got one if you want it. She's asking 185 for the male,
but since you're a friend she'll go 150."

"What? A hundred and fifty...dollars?" I hadn't expected that at all. I
mean, I thought dogs were like...free. Weren't they? Pet shops charge a
lot, I knew that, but a hundred and fifty...yikes!

Ray laughed. "Yeah, dollars. He's registered, got all the papers and
everything if you wanted to show him. The females go for 210 apiece,
so if you were looking to breed, you go that way."

I swallowed, because I was looking to breed. Sort of. Then what he'd
just said hit me. "Wait a sec, Ray. The male is he...fixed?"

"I think so, yeah. She neuters all but one or two out of each litter."
He must have sensed my disappointment. "I could be wrong though. Tell
you what, let me give you her number and you can talk to her, okay?
Her name is Janet and just tell her you got her number from me, that
you're the young woman I called about."

"Okay, sure." I wrote the woman's phone number down.

"And give me a call back okay? Whether it works out for you or not,
let me know. If it don't, I know some other people."

I promised I would and we hung up. I was afraid to be too hopeful
though. I'd felt a momentary bit of excitement at Ray's news, only to
have it dashed when I found out the puppy might have been neutered. I
said a little prayer while I was dialing. Not only that this Janet
person would have fully functional dogs, but that I could get a
hundred and fifty bucks from my father to pay for one. That, I
figured, would be a sign from above.

=-=-=

Mt. Vernon is about an hour north and I hate driving alone. I'm not
much of a driver anyway, I like to sit in the back seat and stretch
out. Read a book or plug my laptop into the cigarette lighter and play
with that. It annoys my father. He seems to think being in the car
with me is a chance for `quality time'. Someday I'll use that in an
essay for my sociology class or something. But, to keep him happy I
sat in the front, smiling and chatting merrily away. He deserved it.
Daddy didn't really feel like driving all that way just to see a woman
about a dog.

This was on Saturday August the 12th. I know because it was a very
important day for me. It was the day I met Midnight.

Olympic Kennels were a little out of the way, a few miles east of
Mount Vernon itself, but we found it. Janet was in her little office
and she was older, in her fifties, and seemed nice enough. I told her
who I was, that I was Ray's friend and interested in a Lab and she
took it all in. She led my Daddy and I to a barn-like structure that
had been redone inside, so it was nice and warm, brightly lit and
divided into smaller rooms.

First she showed me the older pups, the 3 females and one male. He had
indeed been neutered already, Janet told me. They were beautiful, all
of them coal black and sleeping peacefully. They didn't look very big,
but it was hard to tell and they were only 3 months old. I told Janet
I wanted a male, but I didn't want him fixed. My excuse was that I
might want to get a female some day and breed them, she accepted that,
although my Daddy gave me a little look.

"Well, in that case..." Janet led us into another room and there was a
large Black Lab laying down with a squirming cluster of tiny black
puppies, scrambling to feed from her swollen nipples. They were
crawling over and around each other frantically, it was amazing and a
little funny. They were so desperate for milk, and the mother would
lick at them, one at a time, lifting and turning them with her nose so
she could clean them. I'd never seen anything like it.

"Oh! Look at them!" Was all I could say and I moved closer, bending
down slightly.

"This is Princess and her little vampires." Janet chuckled. "They're
almost 3 weeks now. There's 3 males in there someplace..." She reached
into the squirming mass and pulled two of them free, checking them.
"Hmmm...I got lucky. These are both males."

She held them up and they were beautiful. One was smaller than the
other, but they seemed very healthy. They moved around a little in her
hands and Janet walked them to a little plastic table with a little
Plexiglas wall around it. She set them down and I looked at them while
Janet went back to find their brother. A moment later all 3 puppies
were trying to walk on the smooth surface, their paws sliding so
they'd flop on their little tummies. It was so cute. They were black
all over, not a speck of white on any of them, and their eyes were a
very dark color, bluish I thought.

"These guys aren't fixed yet, I do that at the 4 week mark, about the
time they start getting teeth and really feeding away from the
mother."

"What do you feed them? I asked, wishing I could hold one.

"Condensed whole milk at first, just add some hot water and some brown
sugar. They love it and it has a lot of fat. Then I start adding a
little baby food, tuna, eggs..."

"Baby food?" I laughed.

"Yeah, strained carrots. They eat it up." She smiled, "Just for a few
weeks or so and then we start them on real food."

"How long do they stay with the mother?" My Daddy asked. "I thought it
was like 6 weeks or something before they even opened their eyes."

"No." Janet shook her head. "They open their eyes by 10 days or so,
sometimes earlier, sometimes later. They nurse for a month then we
wean them off and I keep them until they're 12 weeks. Get them their
shots, all the pedigree registration. I'm a licensed veterinarian, so
I just like to make sure they're healthy."

"Can I hold one?" I asked and Janet smiled and nodded, watching as I
lifted one of the puppies gently. He was so small and warm, huddled in
my two hands. "So you're not selling them for a few months then." I
dearly wanted one of them right then.

"Yeah. It'll be about Halloween or so." She looked at me. "You really
want one, huh?" She was smiling and I nodded. "Well, they're not going
anywhere. I promise. And this guy..." She reached down and picked one
up. He was a little larger than the other two. "If he keeps on growing
like this I could probably let him go a little early."

I gingerly set down the dog I was holding and Janet gave him to me. He
was a bit heavier, I thought, and his little face was wrinkled and
beautiful. He yawned and I could see the little ridges where his teeth
would be and his little pink tongue.

"Does he have a name?" I asked and Janet shook her head.

"You can name him now, if you want." The woman smiled.

"Yikes!" I giggled a little. I did want him, but a name...That seemed
awfully important. I wanted something cool and appropriate, you know?
A name no other dog...or person, for that matter...would have. I wanted
something sexy too, something I wouldn't mind whispering over and
over.

A couple names occurred to me, but it's hard thinking of something
like that when people are looking at you. Have you ever tried it? I
thought of `Whisper' actually, and I liked it a lot, but that sounded
like a girl's name. And `Shadow' sounded really good, but mildly
sinister. Maybe `Pitch' I thought, and tried it out in my head, but
that sounded like a little kid's dog. And then I had it!

"Midnight." I said maybe a little nervously, because I wasn't sure.
"Is that okay?"

"Midnight?" Janet smiled. "You bet, that's a good name. I haven't come
across a Midnight before." She probably had, but was just being nice.

My Daddy smiled too, shrugging, so I guess he thought it was okay.

"He won't get mixed up, will he?" I asked at the risk of sounding
silly. They did all look amazingly alike and they'd grow and change
and...how would I know in two months which one was mine?

"Oh no. You spend time around these guys and it's not so hard telling
them apart. Once in awhile we tag one's ear if we need to, but you
don't need to worry." She smiled and I hoped she was right.

I held Midnight a while longer and then watched reluctantly as Janet
put the puppies back with their mother. The females had all gone to
sleep, but the males were hungry and scrambled for her teats. We
watched them for a few minutes and made our way back outside, to
Janet's office.

"So," Janet went to her desk and pulled out some papers. "I'll do the
registration with the AKC, that's all real easy..." She was smiling.
"The price for my male Labs is 185 dollars..."

I cringed inwardly, unable to see my father standing behind me but
knowing from the look on Janet's face that something was wrong. I
didn't have a job, mostly because I took care of the house and went to
school. It was pretty easy getting money from Daddy. Usually.

"...But I talked to Ray and I can let you have Midnight for one fifty."
Janet continued on slowly. "That covers shots and everything, of
course."

"Why is it so...much?" My Daddy finally asked and I turned around,
giving him my long practiced `I really want this and I'll do anything
to get it' look.

Janet shrugged. "Demand for one thing. Labs are a favorite breed so
AKC Labs go for 150 or so usually. And the pedigree, that pushes the
value a lot. AKC registration in itself doesn't mean a whole lot, but
my dogs have excellent bloodlines." The woman smiled with complete
confidence.

Janet accepted all major credit cards.

"A hundred and fifty? For a dog?" My father said for the third time in
as many miles. We were just turning onto the highway, I-5 headed south
and home.

I just leaned over the little console in the car, giving him a careful
squeeze as he drove and putting my cheek to his shoulder. "I love you,
Daddy." I smiled and he just sighed.

=--=

Janet had told me that she would call me around the first of October
and let me know when I could pick up Midnight.

In the meantime though, I needed something to keep my mind occupied. I
also knew I needed some sort of solution to some very unfulfilled
needs. Even when I got Midnight he'd just be a puppy. He wouldn't
really be able to please me in all the ways I needed him to. I'd
started having small doubts around that time, mostly when I was in bed
alone at night. I started thinking I maybe should have found a full
grown dog, one that could have satisfied me immediately. It was a
frustrating time for me.

I found a sort of solution though. I called Ray at the animal shelter
a few days after I'd been to Janet's. I was just calling to let him
know I'd found a dog, even if it would be awhile before I could bring
him home. We ended up talking for about half an hour and by the end of
it I was a volunteer at the shelter, working Tuesday and Thursday
afternoons til 6pm, and alternating Saturdays and Sundays. It was
unpaid, that's why it was called volunteering, but Ray promised I'd
learn everything I wanted to know about dogs. I admit I had some
ulterior motives in mind as well, but I kept them to myself.

I suppose it doesn't take much imagination to picture what my job was
at the shelter. Mostly it was cleaning the cages, hosing down the
floor and disposing of animal waste. It wasn't really interesting or
fun and so I won't go into it.

The good part of my job was that I had time and opportunity just to be
with the dogs. Not all of the animals there were nice and friendly,
some were downright dangerous, but the people working there had their
own system of segregation and it wasn't long before I learned which
dogs were okay to be around and which ones weren't. The hard part was
seeing the animals and knowing they weren't going to be around very
long, one way or another.

Adopted dogs had to be neutered. They couldn't leave the building if
they weren't, simply because there were too many in the world as it
was. Waiting dogs weren't neutered, because it would be a waste of
time if they couldn't find a home and had to be put to sleep. Very few
of the dogs who came in were neutered before they arrived. That meant
that there were a lot of cute dogs loaded with sperm just waiting for
someone to give them some attention.

Know where I'm going with this?

Of course I couldn't just let a dog out of it's cage and start rolling
on the floor with it. Someone would probably notice and the other dogs
would complain. So, I would just tease myself, really. I would find a
friendly dog while I was working, take a little break and pet him,
scratch his ears a little through the bars on the cage. I'd look
around a little, just to see if anyone was coming in, and rub the
dog's tummy, opening the cage door so I could to feel the animal's
cock. Stroking it briefly, feeling it's shape and size. This always
excited me and the dogs didn't seem to mind either.

This wasn't entirely what I wanted, but it was the best I could do
under the circumstances. Someday I'll write a story about my fantasies
involving that place and what I wish I'd been able to do, but sticking
to the truth...all I could do was molest an innocent dog every now and
then. What a tease, I know.

During that same time I'd gotten back together with Steve. It had
taken a couple weeks, but he finally called me one night. I'd missed
him, a little, so when he apologized I accepted. We went out
regularly, usually on Friday nights, or on the Saturdays when I wasn't
at the shelter. I wasn't letting him fuck me, although I wanted it
sometimes, I think. But mostly I just wanted to be close to him, to
curl up and be held, kissing and just touching. He accepted that, and
I was grateful, although at times there was a certain tension.

We ended up having a lot of oral sex, or at least he did. I wasn't
really a hundred percent into it, but he needed it and it avoided some
arguments. I have a submissive personality anyway, enough that I would
rather suck my boyfriend's cock than have him angry with me. I hate
confrontation. And anyway, I started to enjoy it the more I did it. I
even didn't mind swallowing sometimes when he'd cum, although usually
I just finished him with my hand. Human semen is a lot different than
a dog's. I loved Mike's cum, honestly. I thoroughly enjoyed the
flavor, the smell, the texture, everything about it. Steve's was
like...bland, I guess is the word. It was a little thicker maybe, in
consistency, but there wasn't very much of it by comparison, and it
just didn't seem as powerful, in some way. And Steve's precum didn't
taste like anything. At least Mike's had some flavor to it, albeit not
a whole lot.

Anyway, if sucking my boyfriend kept him happy, I was happy. Steve
even tried to return the favor sometimes, once in awhile if I really
asked. He'd go down on me and it was okay. But not like a dog can do
it. Steve seemed slow and clumsy by comparison, his tongue was too
small, too smooth. He totally ignored my ass, which was frustrating.
All in all I never did have an orgasm with Steve. Even when I closed
my eyes and seriously tried to imagine it was Mike down there, it was
no good. Ten or fifteen minutes was a long time for Steve and he'd
stop, breathless and sweating, wanting me to do him. After awhile I
didn't even ask him to do it for me anymore.

Some guys who might read this might think, `Oh, that guy didn't know
what he was doing. I could make you forget all about that mutt!' and,
mmm....I don't believe you. Sorry guys, dogs are the real deal.

=-=-=

October 14th fell on a Saturday and it was raining, as you might
expect in Seattle. My father drove me to Janet's and the dog was mine,
or so I thought at the time. Midnight, my own personal dog, was coming
home.

He was twelve weeks old and weighed about eighteen pounds, give or
take. He was black as night and lively and fat and happy and utterly
sexy. At least in my eyes. He came just about up to my knee, standing
on all fours, and I loved him. Janet presented me with his papers and
a little doggy shot card that I would need when I licensed him. She
wished us both luck, gave Midnight a little kiss, and we were on our
way.

I sat in the back seat with him, holding him mostly while he stuck his
nose out the window. Janet had warned me that he might get a little
motion sickness, since it was his first time, but Midnight didn't
complain. He loved it. He loved me too. I could tell the way he licked
my face and burrowed himself into my arms, snuggling and playing. He
was a terrible tease and I was the same, playing with his nose and
teeth and tongue with my fingers.

My Daddy told me he thought he'd never seen me so happy. I thought he
was right.

I guess I don't need to go day by day, although I could. Every day in
my diary has something in it about Midnight. I'm paging through it,
smiling and remembering. I use my diary a lot when I write these
autobiographical sorts of things, but it does make it hard to shut the
hell up sometimes, as you may have noticed.

Suffice to say I spent the next year training Midnight. And he was
training me. That's clear to me now. I thought I was owning him, but
Midnight rules me. I taught him the basics, of course, like to control
himself until he could get outside and use the bathroom. To sit and
shake and lay down. I taught him that digging through the trash is
bad, and that chewing Daddy's shoes is really bad. But I didn't hurt
him. Never. I used the stick and the carrot, but my stick was a light
one, and so maybe he was a slow learner because of that. But not too
slow. Labs are incredibly smart.

I taught him how to play Frisbee, which at times I've considered a big
mistake. At first he was frightened of it, but I used it for his food
bowl and that got him used to it. Then it was just a matter of
throwing it, walking over and picking it up, bonking Midnight on the
nose, and throwing it again. I ignored his antics for my attention
until he got jealous enough that he wanted the Frisbee. Then I'd chase
him, wrestle it away, and throw it again. All in all it took about 2
hours before he wasn't just retrieving the Frisbee, he was catching it
easily, and he was hooked. The next morning, in fact every morning, as
the sun was just coming up, Midnight was bonking the Frisbee on my
forehead. He wanted to go outside and play and it wasn't long before I
learned to hide that stupid thing.

I also taught him to sleep with me. To get used to me and my smells
and what they meant. From the very beginning Midnight was a house dog.
He went out to use the bathroom, then came right back in. Otherwise,
he was only outside when we went for exercise. I like to run when I
can't go to the health club. I don't know why, I just like to
exercise, especially my legs and stomach. I have serious toned legs
and my tummy is hard, a lot harder than any of the guys I know, and it
looks good when I wear a really short halter top in the summer.

Anyway, Midnight runs with me, and afterwards when I do my crunches
and leg lifts, he helps, sitting on my ankles...well, he lays on my feet
and ankles anyway. And he loves it when I'm sweaty. I mean he really
likes it a lot. It's probably just the salt, I know, but still...there's
nothing like doing a hundred leg lifts, getting about halfway done and
feeling your dog's tongue sliding up the inside of your thigh. I lose
count every time.

So, Midnight is a housedog and he sleeps in my bed. Always has and
always will, if I have my way. Not just on my bed, mind you, in it. I
like it when he's between my legs. This was easier when he was a
puppy. I'd sleep naked and position him so his nose was right at my
pussy. He'd try to move sometimes, probably because it was too warm,
but I'd try and keep him there. I wanted him to be really comfortable
with my sex. Intimate with it.

And he was. Even when just a few months old, after I first got him,
Midnight was already starting to lick me. I encouraged him too,
rewarding him when he did it. I learned how to coax him into it,
trying different things like peanut butter, for example. I'd just get
a fingertip of creamy (not Skippy Superchuck, which I love to eat but
is really uncomfortable to wear) and rub it around my lips and a put a
bit inside, not too deep at all, just enough so Midnight would get a
treat when he found it.

And jelly! Jelly works the best. Midnight loves it, even more than
peanut butter. Strawberry jelly. Not jam or preserves, those are too
thick, have chunks of strawberries in it. Jelly is...jelly. It's squishy
and sweet and sticky. We use that a lot, even now when Midnight is
completely trained, we use it just because we like it. I think we have
a strawberry jelly fetish because I especially like it on my husband's
cock. But that's something else entirely. I use it on my pussy and on
my tits, glazing my breasts with the stuff so Midnight can lick it
off. It really is pretty wonderful stuff.

In the beginning though, Midnight really wasn't big on cunnilingus. Or
analingus, for that matter, although I could get him started, he would
lose interest fairly quickly. Even with incentive, like peanut butter,
he'd want to sleep or clean himself after 5 or 10 minutes. Mike had
truly spoiled me and I wondered what the difference was, if there
really was one, between the two dogs. Was it just their personalities?
Or was it something else? One big and obvious difference of course,
was that Mike was older, he had a lot more patience than a puppy does.
But I thought we could overcome that.

Mike had gotten me going and then just fed off my juices. Little
Midnight, at the time just 4 or 5 months old, wasn't really getting me
excited. There was a little there, but mostly I was too busy coaxing
him to relax and enjoy it. I thought maybe that was the problem, that
I wasn't excited enough, juicy enough, to give Midnight something
interesting and new to taste. So, I started masturbating first. I
would use my fingers mostly, or once in awhile the handle of my
hairbrush, a devilishly contoured piece of plastic that must have been
designed by a very smart woman. Then, when I was good and wet, making
sure I'd smeared that wetness everywhere I might add, I'd pull
Midnight's nose to my pussy and he'd take a little lick and...

Voila! He liked that a lot better! He might not have been sexually
mature yet, his penis wasn't ready to slip from it's sheath or
anything, but he had the instincts. He started going down on me like
only a 6 month old dog can. Very eager and sloppy and easily
distracted, moving from spot to spot quickly and without warning. It
was insane! I'd had my first `real' orgasm since I'd left Aunt Jean's
the summer previously. And not just the first one, Midnight brought me
off a couple times, I'm not kidding at all. Life was very, very good.

After that, Midnight went down on me at least once a day, every day.
Even during my period, we didn't miss. I'm light anyway, usually, so
after I took a bath I'd just let him do me. And this wasn't all my
doing either, I hasten to add, oh no. Once Midnight had figured out
that this was something we could do a lot, he was all for it. If he
wasn't on the bed waiting for me every night, all I had to do was sing
"Midnight...bedtime..." and he was practically bouncing with excitement.

I suppose a lot of that had to do with the simple fact that I did love
him so much. I spent every chance I had with him, one way or another.
If I was watching TV or playing Sims, he was in my lap, or at my feet.
If I was cooking, he was on the floor watching me. If I took a bath,
he was in the bathroom, or sometimes in the tub with me. The hard part
was leaving him every day when I went to school. When I got home in
the afternoons he was ecstatic! As if he'd never expected to see me
again. I've never felt such love in my life, or probably shown it, as
Midnight and I share.

Before Midnight was able to mate with me, we were having oral sex. A
lot of oral sex, mostly with me on the receiving end, but he didn't
seem to mind when I played with his immature penis. There are a lot of
stories about how people trained their dogs, so I don't really want
this to be about that. But I think I should explain two things, two
devices that I used and that had no small effect on my life. A lot of
people ask and I have intended to write it down, someplace, for some
time now. This is rather dry, unless you're really into dog
psychology, and I'll try and get through it fast for those of you that
aren't.

=-=-=

You have to understand that for most dogs, normal dogs, mating is an
instinctive imperative. It ranks just below eating and just above
sleeping in the needs department, and truthfully, with a bitch in
season nearby, food can come in (a not too distant) second. But that's
the catch - you need a bitch in heat to set off that instinctive
trigger. Dogs, for the most part, are very uninterested in mating with
an out of season female. Now a human female is always out of season
for a dog, unless he has a short-circuited sex function like Mike had.
Mike was a bulldog who had really awakened my interest in canine sex.
If Mike had been a normal dog I probably never would have recognized
my latent desires.

So, we need to overcome instinct through environment. We need to teach
our dog that not only is it okay to mate with an out of season bitch,
but it's okay to do it all the time! And not just to recognize
specific cues to the senses that will trigger a specific response, but
to instill a very real desire to mate without external provocation.
The easiest example to illustrate my point is merely physical
stimulation. Using the hand or mouth to excite the animal to the point
that he wants to ejaculate. A temporary solution, at best, because you
aren't really modifying the dog's behavior. He isn't going to seek you
out because he wants to get excited. He won't initiate sex with you.

Now that's fine and dandy if you're going to do it once in awhile and
only on your schedule...And a lot of people don't need or want anything
more than that.

But I did. 

What I wanted, what I imagined and set about to create, was that
Midnight would be more independent than that. I wanted him to want me
sexually, not just when it was convenient for me, but sometimes when
it wasn't. When he felt a desire that was completely internalized.
Does that make sense? I wanted his personality to include a desire and
expectation for sex with me. I wanted him, in short, to be my
boyfriend.

My problem was I didn't know how.

I had no idea there was any information available on the internet. At
that point in my life the net was just Napster and email with my
friends. I would have been afraid of typing `Dog Sex' or `Bestiality'
in a search engine lest my father found out anyway. I really was all
alone with this and it was frustrating. Thank God I have small breasts
and a big IQ, rather than the other way around! I sort of wish I had
both, but if I had to choose...I like the way I am.

I studied everything from Pavlov, to child psychology, to subliminal
suggestion. Most of it put me to sleep, but some of it was interesting
and even helpful.

I'd decided one thing I needed to do was make specific associations
for Midnight to learn. One of the first was a big quilt comforter I
bought from a thrift shop. That became our little playground. It was a
lot easier to clean than the bed and it was portable. I'd decided that
every time we had sex, whether it was oral or intercourse, we'd do it
on that quilt. I started this when he was maybe 8 or 9 months old, I
guess, and we were not yet mating. It wasn't long though before
Midnight equated the comforter with sex. When he saw me getting it out
of my closet he knew what was coming and I could see him getting
excited.

Another thing were his mittens. Long before we started having
intercourse, I'd introduced Midnight to a pair of mittens, like soft
children's mittens, with drawstrings around the wrists. We'd be using
those when we made love, so I started using them on him before that,
when we were having oral sex. When we were going to have sex, I would
put on his mittens. After a few weeks of that, I would put his mittens
in some obvious place in his line of sight, on my bed, or on the chair
at my desk. Then I'd tell Midnight to get his mittens. I'd sit there
naked, maybe with some jelly on my pussy, pushing him away until he
found them and brought them to me. Then he got his reward. Eventually
I started hiding them and it was fun just watching him search, every
now and then coming over to sniff at my cunt and I'd push him away,
telling him no.

It didn't take long before Midnight learned that I always hid his
mittens in the same place. They were on top of my books, on the bottom
shelf of my bookcase, out of sight for a person just standing in the
room and looking around, but easy for Midnight to reach. It took a
month, maybe longer I suppose, using the quilt and mittens together,
before he learned that the blanket was my responsibility, my signal
that I wanted sex, and the mittens were his. I'd get out the quilt,
spreading it on the floor and without being told, he'd run to get his
mittens, bringing them to me with a grin and a wagging tail. I was
very happy with that.

I was even happier the first time Midnight brought me his mittens on
his own initiative, without me getting the quilt out. We hadn't had
sex in a week, it was finals and I was studying around the clock at my
dorm. When I came home for the weekend, really almost exhausted, it
was maybe an hour or two later that he approached me with his mittens
in his mouth. I was so surprised, and so happy, honestly, it just
brought me back to life I think. I forgot all about those stupid tests
and got the quilt out and let him do me. That was when I knew the
training had really worked, and all that effort had been worth it.
Midnight, at that time was about 20 months old, and he wanted sex with
me just as much as I wanted it with him. He didn't care if I was out
of season or not, and I was in heaven.

There was more to it than that, of course, and the hardest part was
the discipline. Doing it the same way every time, because rules are
super important when training dogs. Even especially smart and loving
ones like Midnight. But I just can't stress enough how it makes me
feel when he shows up with his mittens at the most unexpected times. I
feel totally loved then, and it's a serious turn on for me sexually.
Of course my father has asked me a couple times what the deal is with
those mittens, but I just laugh and pretend it's a game. I hide them
and Midnight finds them, I explain. Luckily my daddy doesn't seem
inclined to pursue it.

But like I was saying, rules are rules. When I get the quilt out I
expect Midnight to perform and he's never let me down. So, of course,
he has every right to expect the same from me. So, like the time he
brought the mittens down during our 2003 New Years Eve party, I pretty
much had to excuse myself for an hour. While I felt bad leaving my
father to host it alone, and my boyfriend at the time was wondering
what had happened to me, I just had to give Midnight what he wanted.
With some 40 or 50 people downstairs unsuspecting, I was upstairs in
my bedroom getting the daylights fucked out of me by my dog. It was
our rule.

There's actually more to that story. I'm sort of debating with myself
over how much to talk about.

My boyfriend at that time was a man named Paul, who was (and is) sweet
and cute and pretty smart. Anyway, I'd been with him on and off since
I was 15 or so. We'd get together and break up and get together...blah.
I've written tons about him in other places, anyway I really liked him
a lot. I liked him so much I even entertained ideas about telling him
about my real relationship with Midnight, something I'd never
considered with anyone before. I didn't of course (at that time) but I
wanted to, and I guess that's my point.

Eventually, I did tell him...for obvious reasons. But we'll get to that,
I suppose.

Midnight brought my mittens down and I was mildly surprised, but not
really embarrassed or anything. They're just mittens, after all, as
far as anyone knows. I excused myself, saying I needed to clean up a
mess, making a face like `oh no, what did my bad dog get into now?'
and I took Midnight upstairs to my room.

Now my relationship with Midnight is a big secret, as I'm sure you can
understand. But at that time, the end of 2002, it was an even bigger
secret. Nobody knew about it and I needed to keep it that way.
Unfortunately I have this little...problem. I have this submissive
masochist streak thing, for lack of a better term. Maybe it's because
I'm catholic, I don't know. I mean, I like the idea that I could be
caught, you know? The embarrassment, the guilt possibly. I don't want
to psychoanalyze myself too much here, but it exists. Many of my
fantasies involve being found out red handed, so to speak. I tell you
this because it may help explain why I was more than willing to have
sex with my dog under those circumstances.

I knew we wouldn't have a lot of time. Someone was bound to wonder
where I'd gone. My father, or my boyfriend, or any of my dozen friends
who were downstairs. My door was locked, but if someone knocked...It
would be pretty suspicious if I didn't answer. And crawling across the
floor, dragging 80 pounds of dog by a knot of muscle in my cunt had
very little appeal anyway, you know? He's dragged me before, and it
sort of hurts. So, it needed to be a quickie, right? Now, I don't know
about you, but I've never had a quickie with a dog. So I knew I was
fooling myself, I just didn't admit it.

I got the quilt out of my closet and put it on the floor. Midnight sat
patiently, wagging his tail a little, his handsome head cocked
slightly as he watched me. His butt would come up a little every now
and then, as if it was very nearly impossible to sit still. I grabbed
his mittens and put them on him, ignoring his tongue as he licked at
my face. He likes to kiss, just as much as I do, and I think he was a
little confused  because I wasn't responding quite the way I usually
did. So I smiled and cupped his chin in my hand, bringing my face
close to his and opened my mouth for him. His tongue pushed inside me,
long and wide and warm. I sucked it a little and played my own across
the top, feeling it like fine sandpaper. And then the bottom, tickling
and fighting to lick beneath his tongue, where it's incredibly soft
and silky smooth. I love kissing Midnight, making out with him like
that. Sometimes I put chocolate in my mouth, letting it melt and then
letting Midnight lick it from me.

I reached down while we kissed, sliding my hand across his smooth
chest and down to the softness of his belly and found his penis, still
sheathed and waiting. I rubbed it gently, working my hand slowly back
and forth until I felt it growing, the tip slipping out wet and warm.
I didn't need to use my mouth on him, the way I had with Mike,
Midnight knew what we were going to do and he wanted it as much as I
did. He squirmed a little and licked across my face, and especially my
lips, enjoying my lipstick I think.

I left my dress on, an expensive one that I'd bought to wear just that
one night, really. It was white and silky and clung to my body when I
moved. Beneath I wore a white thong and that was all. I pulled my
panty off and rubbed it in Midnight's nose, giggling at him as he
lifted a paw, playing with me. I wanted him missionary, intending to
keep him under control, to keep us from getting locked. I used a big
saddle-shaped pillow under my hips, elevating me comfortably and I
hitched my dress up around my hips, spreading my legs and pulling
Midnight up to straddle my body.

I don't think this is the best for him, particularly, but we'd done it
before exactly that same way, many times, and he didn't mind.
Missionary is easiest using the bed, I've found, letting Midnight get
his front paws up and on it while he stood on the floor. That really
lets him move the way dogs were meant to, thrusting and doing most of
the work. It's also one of the easiest and most comfortable ways of
taking the knot, I think, and I love it. But this way, being lower on
the floor with my ass elevated about a foot wasn't bad either. It had
the advantage of letting me really embrace him, pulling Midnight down
so he was almost laying on top of me, with his hard cock buried in my
slit, his furry chest cradled between my breasts, and his tongue
playing with mine. This position is my favorite because we aren't just
fucking, we're making love.

I had to play with his penis a little, but not too much. As I said,
Midnight wanted to fuck me already. I was just telling him it was
okay, that I was ready for him. He wasn't fully erect yet, but his
cock was out of it's sheath, dripping precum between my thighs. I
rubbed it with my hands, feeling the wetness spilling over and around
my fingers as he grew even larger. At full size Midnight's cock is
just a hair shy of seven inches long and thick in the middle, thicker
than most of my boyfriends ever were. I love it's shape, the heat of
it, the color, a sweet shade of red, seemingly streaked with burgundy.
It's a beautiful thing and I brought it to my sex, forcing Midnight to
adjust slightly, moving awkwardly over the pillow to press his body to
mine.

I was whispering to him too, talking to him. That's a real important
thing, in my experience. More than you might think. A good positive
soothing voice really keeps him calm and focused, I think. Because he
is young, still just barely four years old as I write this. Back then
when he was not quite two and a half, Midnight was just a teenager...A
very inexperienced and excitable teenager.

I was turned slightly, bent to the side and half sitting up...thank God
for crunches! ...as I gently guided him inside me. Midnight felt the
warm wet folds of my labia parting for him and he gave an instinctive
push, sliding several inches inside me easily. I gave a small gasp,
the way I always do when his dog cock penetrates me, pushing my soft
walls apart. I lifted my hips a little, sliding down as best I was
able while Midnight's cock grew rapidly to it's full size, expanding
and filling me nicely. He couldn't really fuck me like that, he had
his front paws too far forward and I smiled as I watched him adjust,
grinning and panting as he arched his back, finding the right
position.

Midnight's front paws were on the pillow, straddling my hips and it
was enough that he could move with a little burst of energy, his cock
sawing back and forth in my cunt rapid for a minute, perhaps two,
before he'd pause. Each time I'd dig my heels into the floor, lifting
myself even more, tilting my head back and moaning as my body
surrendered to the stimulation of being fucked. Midnight's shaft
rubbed my clit just right, sliding just beneath it, pushing secret
little buttons that drove me crazy. When he paused, collecting and
rearranging himself for another frenzy of motion, I'd catch my breath.
I'd open my eyes, staring up at him breathlessly. I'd run my fingers
through his fur and clutch him to me, only to be overwhelmed again
when he began ramming his turgid cock once more into the humid depths
of my womb.

And all the while I could hear the music and voices of my friends. I
could picture them, talking and dancing and drinking, smiling amongst
themselves, wondering what was taking me so long. I had my first
orgasm, a shattering explosion beginning deep in my tummy, venting
through a high pitched yelp that I tried to conceal. Midnight licked
my face at the sound, pausing and moving so that his cock slipped out
of me and I hastened blindly to get him back in, I need it so badly.
My body shuddered with the desire to be impaled on that beautiful
cock.

Some part of me knew that I should stop. That was the reason we were
doing it like that, on the pillow. I could reach between us, grasping
his member and just work myself on it. I could cum gloriously,
masturbating myself with Midnight's penis, and he wouldn't mind. He
was such a good lover, so attentive and unselfish like that. I could
have cum 3 or 4 more times, exhausting myself on his wonderful dog
cock, and then let him off. Cleaned myself up and been satisfied.
Perhaps.

Perhaps not. I spread myself even more, opening my body to him as much
as possible. I used my hand to plump the pillow, trying to elevate it
and give him better access. Midnight began thrusting again, pushing
himself against me, panting and making those sweet soft guttural
sounds that tell me he's enjoying it. He'd managed to find purchase
and there was no stopping this time. The knot of muscle at the base of
his cock was growing, pressing for entrance to my cunt and I wanted
it. Despite my earlier thoughts, all my best intentions, this was what
we needed.

I had my legs in the air, as if I could wrap them around Midnight's
back, but he was lower, rushing his cock back and forth, stretching
me, working our juices around his great prick. I almost screamed as
the knot suddenly plunged inside me with a familiar and utterly
painless sensation that brought me another intense orgasm. Midnight's
strokes shortened then, and my pussy trembled around him, contracting
as if to pull the dog even deeper into my womb.

My favorite fantasies flashed through my mind, inseparable from the
reality of the pleasure Midnight was giving me. I imagined my
boyfriend knocking, opening the door just then, catching me like that.
Writhing helplessly below my canine lover, eager for his cock, begging
for his sperm in my belly. I thought of Midnight impregnating me,
swelling my tummy with his puppies. The way my stomach would swell and
my breasts grow fat and heavy with sweet milk for them to nurse. I was
moaning, breathless and shivering as the imagery combined with the
pressure of Midnight's cock inside me. I felt him cumming, heard his
guttural whines and embraced that new flood of warmth spreading deep
inside me.

I clutched him tightly then, pulling the dog down to me as his balls
emptied into my willing womb. I felt his heart beating against mine,
his breath in my face as I kissed him, my tongue running across his
nose, his lips his teeth. I clawed uselessly at his soft fur,
whispering his name over and over, loving him more than I'd ever
dreamt possible.

We stayed like that a long while. I don't know how long. Midnight
laying on me, licking my face, waiting for his swollen knot to shrink
and pull free. Waiting for me to come down from my peak, to find my
breath and open my eyes. I'd been crying, as sometimes happens when it
all becomes too much for me. I relaxed slightly and Midnight moved,
testing us, but we were still locked. My cunt felt on fire still, and
every movement brought small delicious points of pleasure. There was
no pain, no discomfort at all, those days were long past. My body was
made for Midnight, molded to his and it was perfect. My absolute
favorite part of our sex is when we're locked and he's cum and we're
together like that.

Perhaps 15 minutes later, after I once again became aware of time and
it's meaning, we were able to separate. Midnight pulling free of me
clumsily with a flood of pent-up juices from our sex. It spilled down
my ass and soaked into the pillow. The smell was pungent and
unmistakable and I giggled and sighed and gave Midnight a small hug as
he sat there, legs spread, licking himself clean. He would have been
more than happy to do the same for me, and any other time I would have
pulled him gently to clean me, to lick my raw and distended sex.
Another orgasm, or two or three, and I would have been truly sated.
But as it was, I couldn't complain at all.

I rolled up the comforter, putting it and the pillow in my closet,
frowning at the knowledge that by morning my closet and everything in
it would reek of our union. I felt the wetness running down my thighs
as I moved around and I slipped into my bathroom, washing myself
quickly and it was barely adequate. I put my thong back on,
straightened my dress, turning for the mirror to see if it was a total
wreck. I redid my face quickly, brushed my hair, and took a deep
breath, stepping out of my room and going back downstairs.

I felt as though everyone could tell I'd just spent the better part of
an hour fucking my dog. I was flushed and a little sticky all over. I
especially felt wet and slippery between my thighs and I knew I should
have washed myself more carefully. There was still dog sperm inside
me, leaking slowly out to soak into the all too small panel of my
thong. I imagined my body must smell of our unnatural lovemaking. My
hair, my skin. I blushed as I moved closer to my boyfriend, unable to
help the feeling that he would know. That everyone would know and the
worst of it was that I enjoyed that. I liked the way it made my heart
pound beneath my breasts and my breath catch in my throat.

Paul smiled and put his arm around me and I kissed him, lightly at
first and then harder. I let him taste my tongue which a brief time
before had been playing in Midnight's sweet mouth. I was still horny,
impossible as it seems, and I wanted him right then. Paul. I wanted
him to make love to me, to take me just minutes after I'd finished
with Midnight. It was dangerous I thought, and foolish to play these
games. Paul wouldn't understand, nobody would, I believed. And maybe
that was the point, I wanted to be found out, just so I would have to
confess to him. So I would know if I had an accomplice in my secret
life.

I held him close, touching him, whispering and making it clear what I
wanted. Paul looked around, gauging the risk the same way I had with
Midnight. It struck me as terribly amusing and I giggled, drinking my
wine too fast and flirting with the idea that I didn't care what
anyone thought! Midnight does that to me, wonderful sexy Midnight. He
frees me and I wanted to share it with Paul.

We moved inside slowly, and then upstairs, into my room. I could smell
it. The scent of what had happened earlier filled the room, but if
Paul noticed he didn't say anything. I busied him with my kisses,
closing the door and letting him envelope me in his arms. His tongue
was soft and warm and nothing at all like Midnight's and I found that
enjoyable in a way I couldn't have a year or two earlier. Paul's hands
moved over my body, touching and teasing me. He slipped the straps of
my dress down, off my shoulders and it fell like a whisper to the
floor. I pressed my bare breasts to him, feeling the coolness of his
clothing. I pulled back, wanting to undress him completely, but he
stopped me.

We didn't have time for that, he told me with a smile. It would have
to be a quickie and I laughed at how familiar that sounded and I
wondered if he would be any more successful at it than I had been with
Midnight. He pushed me back to the bed, smiling and staring into my
eyes. I loved him then, I think, in that moment. I lay down and
watched as he pulled off my thong, exposing my betrayal. My sex was
ruddy and pink inside, with my labia swollen and rubbery and splayed.
I was still excited, still wet and traces of Midnight's juices mixed
with mine were plain to see. At least to me, but like anyone who has
ever been guilty, I probably imagined it to be more obvious than it
really was.

"You're so wet..." He said and I sat up, ignoring his words and working
at Paul's belt. I was wet, I was soaked and I wanted more. Did he
recognize the signs of my infidelity? I didn't know and I couldn't
ask. I kept waiting for him to ask me why, or even who. I dreaded it
and longed for it. I freed his penis, semi-erect and I took him in my
mouth, playing my tongue beneath it as I stroked his shaft with one
delicate hand.

I did this just long enough to bring him hard, to fill him with the
need for release and I pulled back. "Make love to me." I whispered and
he took me, with my legs up, over his shoulders. He was still fully
dressed and it struck me as so strange to be doing it that way. His
cock entered me easily and I barely noticed it at first, until he was
fully in and I felt the rough sensation of his trousers against my
skin. I was wet, soaked and as we moved it leaked steadily out of me.
But it felt good.

Paul moved slowly, working his hips in small deliberate circles,
trying to find some part of me that Midnight hadn't already stretched.
And he did, finally, his cock so very nearly the same length as
Midnight's, had a very different shape. The large smooth head of
Paul's cock felt strange and clumsy as it moved back and forth. I
enjoyed it. I enjoyed the way Paul kissed me and how his hand found my
breast and pinched and pulled at my nipple. I thought I could almost
cum, but I didn't. I wanted to, I tried to, but it wasn't necessary. I
enjoyed our lovemaking anyway.

But I did give Paul the pleasure of thinking I did. I moved my hips,
pressing myself to him, making small noises and urging him with my
hands and lips. I told him I was cumming with a trembling gasp and he
believed me, finding his own orgasm a moment later. Paul held me
still, my body bent over nearly double as he looked into my eyes. His
sperm was filling me, much as Midnight's had done, and just as
uselessly, I knew. I wondered in that moment what making love would be
like if I weren't on the pill. And that did send a small spasm of
excitement through me. But it was too little and too late, Paul
withdrew slowly, kissing me.

I could have told him then. I wanted to. I could have opened the door
and called Midnight, demonstrated for Paul how much I loved my dog.
How much I loved both of them. But I couldn't, not yet. My confidence
was going, my faith in Paul's understanding draining away. I lay there
on the bed, while Paul sat next to me, rubbing my thigh. I bit my lips
and closed my eyes. It was a premonition perhaps, that someday I would
have to tell someone. Maybe Paul, maybe a different man, it wouldn't
matter...I knew he was coming.

=-=-=

Ummm...my page counter says 31, so maybe it's time to stop? They say
it's best to go out with a bang anyway, and I always liked
cliffhangers. So I'll stop here.

End
rache696@yahoo.com

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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