David Crane: Hot for horses

Meanwhile, the discovery of the joys of cunt-sucking added a whole new dimension to Melanie's life.

In the weeks following her initiation, the girl made a point of finding female lovers, even to the extent of neglecting dog-fucking. She visited Arabelle frequently and sucked her off passionately whenever the redhead was in the mood. She even began to frequent gay bars, where she had no trouble meeting suckable girls.

Cunt-sucking was a novelty, as well as a treat, and Melanie did it with the enthusiasm of a convert. But she was not a lesbian.

And because Melanie was not a lesbian, she loved sucking cunts even more, because there was no risk of an emotional entanglement – the way there always had been with men.

But after a while, the novelty of cunt-lapping wore off.

Melanie was still always ready and willing to go down on a good-looking woman, but after the initial excesses of pussy she soon began to find her thoughts once more turning fondly to dogs.

Specifically, she thought of Hercules, Arabelle's wolfhound.

Melanie lusted for the big brute so badly that she could taste it. But she could not figure out how she was ever going to get the dog alone. She found herself a black-and-tan hound and, while the hunting dog fucked her energetically, she closed her eyes and pretended that it was the wolfhound pounding away on her pussy. But although the hound was robust, his prick was only average.

Melanie wanted that massive wolfhound-cock more than anything on earth! She continued to visit Arabelle, even after the novelty of cunt-sucking had worn off and no longer charmed her, always hoping that someday Arabelle might want to go out, and would leave Melanie alone with Hercules. But she wasn't so lucky. Whenever she called on Arabelle, the redhead did not want to go out at all – she wanted Melanie to go down, instead. It was no hardship, certainly, and Melanie kept the relationship active by gobbling the redhead's pussy with regularity. Then she had an idea.

She remembered that Arabelle left Hercules at the Quality Kennels for Class Canines whenever she was going away for a few days. It seemed like a good idea if Melanie were to make the acquaintance of the man who ran those kennels. If she was unable to get the wolfhound away from Arabelle, perhaps she could figure out a way to get the brute out of the kennels, the next time he was boarded there.

Although she never really enjoyed fucking a man, she was quite willing to fuck the owner of the kennels, if it meant that she could subsequently be fucked by Hercules.

With that clever plan in mind, Melanie put on a sexy black dress – without any underwear – and went to make the acquaintance of the kennel owner.

Ralph Skinner, the owner and manager of the Quality Kennels, was a tall, good-looking man who dressed well except for always having dog-shit on his shoes – an occupational hazard. He had an eye for the ladies, too, and when sexy little Melanie came into the office, he gave her a big, appreciative smile.

Melanie introduced herself as a friend of Arabelle Tremayne, said that Arabelle had recommended the Quality Kennels and pretended that she had a dog which she wished to board there, in due course. Ralph said he would be pleased to be of service. Melanie was simply playing it by ear, at first, wanting to become friendly with the man, and she asked if she could look at the canine accommodations.

"Certainly," Ralph agreed, showing her through to the back where the comfortably large cages were grouped around an exercise yard. Melanie strolled into the yard, feigning interest, still pretending to be a prospective client.

Then her pretense stopped and her interest became intense.

Melanie was surrounded by dogs! It was like putting a girl with a sweet tooth into a candy factory, a panty freak in a lingerie shop, a lesbian in a nunnery! She felt dizzy and faint. Her knees weakened. She turned through a slow circle, gazing at all those desirable canines, starting to tremble. The dogs stared back at her from all sides. Knowing, with some doggy sixth-sense, that this was a girl who was kind to animals, the dogs began to tremble, too.

Ralph, seeing that the girl was gasping, was concerned. He took her by the arm, to steady so her – and in the process, he nimbly managed to cop a feel of plump tit.

"Are you all right?" he inquired solicitously.

Melanie didn't even hear him.

She looked from dog to dog, hot with desire. There were dogs of all breeds, some that even the devout dog lover did not recognize, but all of obvious quality.

Her cunt began to smolder.

Ralph, being a mere human, did not detect the wet condition of the girl's crotch, but the dogs all began to sniff and yelp. Several of them began to get erections.

Melanie's eyes focused on a Great Dane.

The brute was almost as big as the wolfhound, almost as desirable. He was sitting up on his haunches, his long, pink tongue lolling out over his lower jaw, his massive chest heaving as he panted. And his prick was starting to sprout. Melanie gave a little moan of passion, her eyes glued to that rising cock. The Great Dane's balls had swollen, big as melons, and the bright red tip of his cockhead came squeezing slowly out from the hairy sheath. The cocktip was dripping with cum.

"Oooooh," she sighed with longing.

Ralph followed the line of her gaze and when he saw what she was looking at, he misunderstood her moaning sigh.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Miss," he apologized. "Dogs will be dogs, though. Please don't let the sight disturb you – I'll throw a bucket of cold water on the brute." "Don't you dare!" cried Melanie. Ralph gave her a funny look. Then he realized that, far from being distressed by the sight of the dog's hard-on, the girl was intrigued. In fact, she had taken a step in the direction of the offending canine's cage. Ralph was amused. He knew a great deal about dogs and he knew his share about girls – but he didn't know anything about girls who fucked dogs.

By now, the Great Dane's hard-on was immense. The long, thick prick towered up before his belly and the huge, bloated cockhead was crimson and slimy.

"What an adorable prick!" Melanie murmured.

She was speaking to herself, scarcely aware of Ralph's presence – but Ralph heard her words and his cock began to tense up a bit, as he came to realize that this nubile young lady was an admirer of cocks.

Melanie had come here strictly to set in motion her plan to get a crack at Hercules. Bu now, surrounded by so much canine potency especially that huge Great Dane – she wa overcome with fuck-lust.

She moved up to the cage.

The dog's cockhead was still expanding.

She knelt down on the ground.

"What on earth are you doing. Miss Reingold?" Ralph asked.

Ignoring the man, Melanie reached ir through the bars of the cage and began to linger the shiny knob of the Great Dane's cock, rubbing her thumb back and forth against the sensitive underside of that greal wedge of hot dog-prick.

Ralph gasped. He was scandalized! He took a backwards step, almost staggering under the dawning realization that here in his kennels he was entertaining a practitioner of bestiality! But that emotion passed as quickly as it had come over him, to be replaced by desire. Melanie was a gorgeous girl and Ralph began to tingle with lust, aroused both by her physical charms and by the dark knowledge that she was interested in dogs' pricks.

His cock jolted into a bar of steel. Melanie drew her hand back through the bars. She had sticky dog-cum on her fingers and she held them up before her face, gazed at them for a moment – and then, to Ralph's awe, she pushed her pink tongue out and licked the slime from her hand! He groaned, dizzy now.

Melanie turned her head and looked at him, blinking as if surprised to realize that she was not alone. But she was far too horny now to worry about the delicacy of the matter. "I want to fuck him," she whispered. Ralph found himself unable to speak. His vocal cords seemed to have gotten as stiff as his prick.