Unknown - Sally and Duke

Perspiration gathered on her naked body, trickling down between her swaying breasts that swung beneath her like ripe fruit on a forbidden tree. Blodgett leaned forward, eyes gleaming with carnal lust as they locked on the flashing red cock of the dog as it buried itself from behind in the wet, hair-lined flesh of Sally's throbbing pussy. The insane pressure was building fast in the girl's obscenely swaying loins and she was nearly out of her mind with the wanton desire for release.

"Oooooh," she squealed through clenched teeth, "Oh, yes, yes, yes… harder… Oh, God, fuck harder…" Even the animal's incredible fucking pace could not satisfy her as she ground her buttocks backwards in an effort to capture more of the long tapered penis and squeeze it between the hotly clasping walls of her vagina. All sense of pride was lost to her, she actually reveled in the knowledge of her abject humiliation by the jerking, hairy body of the great canine. She wanted it! Oh God, she wanted his lewd animal sperm to shoot up into her belly just as John Blodgett had filled her so wonderfully. She wanted the long denied bliss again… could never get enough of orgasm, now that she at last knew what it was and how good it felt. She had to cum again … she had to!

"Jesus H. Christ," Blodgett exclaimed, eyes riveted to the salacious spectacle. He licked at his suddenly dry lips and absently stroked his cock that was beginning to rise again as he watched the obscene buffeting of Sally Denham by the big dog whose long thin penis was jabbing mercilessly into her willing cunt. How long could it go on?

Duke's red tongue lolled from his mouth, dripping saliva over the girl's back to gather and run down the crevice of the upraised ass cheeks and mingle with the secretions of her seething pussy.

Suddenly, Sally gave a wild cry. Her long hair began to whip wildly back and forth as she went into the beginning convulsions of her climax. Her buttocks began to contract uncontrollably and she rammed them back fiercely against Duke just as he jerked forward hard and his animal cock began to spurt its lewd sperm far up in her hungrily quivering belly. The sticky white fluid oozed from her lust tightened cunt and bathed the dog's scarlet cock, streaking the inner sides of her ivory thighs. She sagged forward in orgiastic bliss, displaying her wet, cum soaked pubic hair and rosy pink cunt lips as the dog's deflating cock was sucked out of her vagina with an audible sound. As she pitched forward onto the rug in near complete exhaustion, Duke stood over her body, panting, and proudly wagging his tail. Then, furthering the perverted depravity that had been committed on the helpless young wife, the dog dropped his shaggy head to her widespread legs and licked happily at the creamy fluid that still oozed from her trembling slit. His owner let the beast lap hungrily at the exposed pubic flesh until every drop was gone before he locked his hand firmly in the dog's heavy collar and drew the satiated Shepherd away from his human mate.

"Good boy, Duke," he murmured fondly, patting the dog's shoulders. "A dog's gotta have a good piece of ass every now and then too, eh?"

Sally stumbled clumsily to her feet. "Wait," she demanded. "W-when will my husband hear from you?" She had not gone through this degrading experience to be put off again.

"Now, hold on there, Sally. I got to have another talk with my brotherin-law over at the bank. You just be patient, little lady." He grinned with crude humor as Sally snatched up her dress and held it in front of her naked, abused body. Women were all the same… when it was too late, they wanted to play modest. Well, no, not all the same. He sure did have to admit this one had been something special, and the best piece of tail he'd had in a long time.

Sally Denham stood at her living room window, peeking through the slit of the heavy drapes to watch John Blodgett and his dog emerge from her doorway below and cross the square. It seemed to her that they had been in her apartment a long time, although it was still only mid-afternoon, and she wondered if anyone had noticed their entrance or exit and been curious about it? But she could not waste time worrying about that, she had to get herself cleaned up. Still naked, she moved about the living room, fluffing up the couch cushions and removing all traces of her visitors except for the tell-tale dog hairs. Those she would do later with the vacuum cleaner.

She soaked her tired body in a hot tub for much longer than usual, pouring quantities of fragrant bath salts into the water to dispel every last trace and odor that might be clinging to her.

Experimentally, she handled her large breasts, running her fingertips over the bruised sore spots and gently examining the nipples, all with a new awareness of her body as an instrument of erotic sensitivity. As she stepped into the bedroom she paused in front of the full-length mirror to survey her nubile form critically… seeing Sally Denham for the first time not as a 'nice girl' but a provocative, desirable woman.

Humming, to herself, she dressed rapidly in a fresh cotton frock and returned to the living room, scene of the debauched episode that was already beginning to seem more and more unreal. She flung the drapes apart and let the late afternoon sun stream into the room as she brought out her little vacuum cleaner and removed Duke's long blackand-tan hairs from the tufts of the rug. There was a dark wet spot on the rug directly in front of the couch and her cheeks flamed hotly as she realized what must be its origin. God, Ray would be back soon and she hadn't even planned what she would fix for dinner.

After the meal, they were watching television and Sally mentioned casually that she could have gone with Ray, after all, as Cynthia Hearldson had changed her piano lesson to Tuesday.

"Oh, yeah?" he said absently, "Well, it was hotter than hell in Knoxville. Seems like this weather ought to break pretty soon. Say, honey, what's this spot on the rug here?"

"Oh! I-I fixed myself a drink this afternoon and spilled some of it," she explained.

"Drinking alone, and in the afternoon?" he teased, but frowned slightly.

"Only a cola, silly."

Speaking of drinks, Ray thought, he had had a tiring day and wouldn't mind one right now. Sally was curled up so comfortably on the couch that instead of asking her he went to the kitchen himself. It seemed to him that the level of the bourbon bottle was down somewhat from what it had been the other day… but no doubt he was mistaken… of course, if Sally wanted a drink now and then there was no reason why she shouldn't take one, yet it was not characteristic of his wife to drink or to fib. Since he knew that Sally did not really care for hard liquor, the thought crossed Ray's mind as he brought out the ice cubes that maybe someone else had been here. No, he dismissed the idea… she would have mentioned any callers.

Nevertheless, his wife surprised him by reaching eagerly for his glass when he carried it in and she proceeded to swallow a hefty slug of it.

"Just what I needed to pick me up," Sally confessed, "I-I'm not feeling so well this evening."

"Have a hard day, darling?" he questioned indulgently.

"Not really. I just feel sort of… strung out."

"Probably worrying about the loan. It's making us both tense… I wish to hell we'd hear something pretty soon."

"Oh, Ray," his wife got up from her sitting position and moved over next to him on the couch, placing her cheek against the flat hardness of his chest, "I'm sure we will hear something soon, and that it will be favorable. I… I just feel it!"

The close intimate presence of his wife against his body could not fail to stimulate Ray sexually and his hand came down to stroke her soft brown hair and slip under the neckline of her dress. Immediately a tremendous wave of guilt at her deception swept over Sally and her whole body seemed to freeze and grow rigid with fear. Ray must never, never find out what she had done! The knowledge would destroy him and her along with him… shivering slightly, she allowed him to work his warm fingers under her bra strap, to push it down over her shoulder so that he could dip his hand, unhindered, into the thin nylon cup of her brassiere and fasten his palm over her full vibrant breast. Cold terror gripped her. If they made love tonight she was sure somehow that Ray would know it was not her first time today. She still felt so stretched and sore down there… and she still carried within her secret parts the sticky semen of Ray's boss and of… oh, God… of the big German Shepherd. Tears welled up in her long-lashed grey eyes as she realized fully to what depths of depravity she had sunk… but for good cause, for her husband's sake.