David Crane: Hot for horses

Her climax rippled and ran wild through her pussy.

The girl wondered why she had waited so long for such joy.

Once she had discovered the joy of dog-fucking, Melanie stopped going out with men very often and, when she did, she refused to go to bed with them. Her boyfriends were puzzled and wondered why she had suddenly turned from wanton to frigid.

But Melanie had not turned frigid at all. She was still promiscuous.

But now she was a promiscuous animal lover! It was only natural that she should wonder what a really big dog would be like. Her terrier had been wonderful and she still fucked him from time to time, more out of gratitude than anything else – and her duty as his mistress, of course – but he was too small. She began to look for opportunities to fuck the largest animals she could find.

She fucked the neighbor's German shepherd.

She fucked a large mongrel hound that she found wandering, without a collar, in the park.

She offered to take care of a friend's Doberman while the girl went on vacation and, for two weeks, enjoyed sucking and fucking with the handsome brute. Later, her friend gave her some awfully funny looks when the dog's bad habits came to light.

By this time, Melanie had graduated from school and was ready to get an apartment of her own. The terrier was aging now, and no longer seemed very interested in fucking, so she left him with her parents. At first, shi intended to buy herself a nice big dog, but she wanted to experiment with the various breeds first, so that she could purchase the type tha satisfied her most.

She fucked an Airedale and a boxer. She enjoyed a lightning-fast fuck from a racing greyhound and a long, slow fuck from a bulldog.

Each dog had its merits and Melanie was having difficulty in deciding what type of animal she should buy – just as a girl with hall a dozen suitors, determined to be a faithful wife in the end, might have trouble deciding which of them to wed.

It dawned on Melanie that she as not yet ready to be faithful to a single dog, that she preferred to play the field, alternating between elegant pedigreed animals and lusty mongrel brutes.

Yet it wasn't always easy to find a suitable dog when the urge came upon her. Often, horny as hell, her cunt dripping, Melanie found herself walking the streets looking for a stray dog, or wandering in the park in search of dog-cock.

But then – her lucky day – Melanie met the man who owned the Quality Kennels for Class Canines!

Her problems were solved.

But first, in her constant quest for dog-prick, Melanie accidentally discovered the joys of cunt-sucking…

In one of the larger, more expensive apartments downstairs from Melanie lived a thirty-year-old divorcee who owned a huge Irish wolfhound.

The woman's name was Arabelle Tremayne. She was an elegant redhead with jade-green eyes, high cheekbones and a rather haughty demeanor. She had lovely tits and a splendid ass, but she did not dress provocatively. Being a horsewoman, she was usually wearing jodhpurs and a hacking jacket in the daytime, which was the only time that Melanie ever saw her.

Melanie, a middle-class girl, envied Arabelle her aristocratic bearing and manner. And she envied her large alimony checks.

But most of all, she envied her wolfhound. Melanie had never fucked a wolfhound. In fact, she had never met an Irish wolfhound. Irish wolfhounds did not grow on trees.

But she knew they had cocks like tree trunks.

Melanie had often seen Arabelle walking her dog in the park. The dog was as haughty and as aristocratic as the woman, and, to Melanie, as sexy.

The big brute stood forty inches at the shoulder, weighed one hundred and fifty pounds and was fleet enough to run down a wolf, strong enough to fight it – yet with humans he had a gentle and intelligent nature. The dog also had a massive prick, Melanie had often noticed. The beast's balls were so big that its hind legs were slightly bowed out around them. And its prick, even in a dormant state, flopped up and down like a pole, the tip almost bouncing on the ground when the dog broke into a trot.

Melanie wasn't even sure that she could take a cock that huge up her cunt – but she certainly wanted to try. It made her mouth water, too.

But how on earth could she manage to get the wonderful brute alone? It posed a problem. She couldn't just ask Arabelle if she might borrow her dog, obvious-ly – and certainly not admit why she wanted to borrow it. If it had been a cat, say, she might have claimed there was a mouse in her apartment and borrowed it to catch the rodent. But it wasn't a cat – nor was Melanie into fucking cats.

Eventually, the naughty dog lover decided that she would have to befriend Arabelle and play it by ear. It was always possible that the redheaded divorcee might go out sometime, leaving Melanie alone with the wolfhound – or she might even ask Melanie to dog-sit for her, never realizing that it would be dog-laying, not sitting.

Melanie feared that it might not be that easy to make the acquaintance of the haughty redhead, but she simply had to try.

And as it turned out, it was easy.

Melanie waited until she saw Arabelle take the dog for a walk, then managed to meet her on a path in the park. She struck up a conversation by exclaiming that the dog was beautiful, which seemed to please the dog's mistress. They chatted for a while about dogs and Melanie mentioned that she lived in the same apartment building as Arabelle, but didn't have a dog of her own, although she was fond of them. Arabelle told her that the wolfhound's name was Hercules. Since they lived in the same building, it was natural that they walked home together.

Melanie was delighted when Arabelle asked her in for coffee.

Maybe the woman wasn't so haughty, after all. Maybe her bearing was deceptive and she was actually lonely, welcoming a friend.

They sat in the elegantly appointed living room, drinking coffee from bone china cups. Hercules had been dispatched to his own quarters, but Melanie figured that was all for the best. When the big-cocked brute was near her, Melanie could hardly keep her eyes off his prick – and she certainly didn't want Arabelle to get suspicous.

Melanie, determined to become close friends with Arabelle, began to pay the woman compliments in a lavish way. She admired her silken hair and her smooth complexion. She remarked that Arabelle had such a lovely body.

The redhead began to give Melanie rather strange looks. But Melanie had never thought about making love with another woman, and did not realize that she was sounding rather like a lesbian on the prowl as she flattered the sexy divorcee.

Finally, Melanie decided to get to the point of the matter.

She intended to offer to take care of the redhead's dog, anytime the woman wanted to go out for the day.

"I feel that we've become such good friends, even though we've only just met," she said, as a prelude.

"Why – yes, I think so," replied Arabelle, with a Mona Lisa smile and a glint in her eye.

"Any time you need a favor…"

"You're not shy, are you?" Arabelle interrupted.

Melanie did not realize that Arabelle had misunderstood her intentions. She looked puzzled.

"It's all right," said Arabelle. "You don't have to pretend with me, honey – I'm a woman of the world." Melanie was aghast.

Had the redhead realized that Melanie wanted to fuck her dog? But then, to Melanie's amazement, Arabelle said: "In fact, I could use that favor right now."

"I-I don't…?"

To Melanie's total surprise, Arabelle stood up, lifted her skirt and began to remove her panties. Her lush hips squirmed as she wriggled out of her panties. Melanie was stunned. She noticed that the crotchband of Arabelle's panties was soaking wet. She couldn't help but stare at the woman's bared loins. Arabelle's pussy mound was like a burning bush, the thick hair the color of flames, and the insides of her smooth white thighs were slick and damp.