Paul Gable - The family_s loving pet

"Ummmm…"

The glass was almost finished.

Janet was feeling somewhat sleepy. It was the thought of sex and men that had kept her from dozing off right now. She hadn't wanted to think of sex, of fucking. But there it was, coming back at her no matter how she tried to block it out. The memory of the night before was far too vivid and too hot to ignore. It had been the first time in a long time she had reached a climax while completely awake. It was wonderful, had nearly knocked her out of her mind. Somehow, almost miraculously, it seemed her sexual hunger had been suppressed all those years. Only dreams, those terrible, wonderful dreams, were what she had to look forward to. It made her wonder why she had waited all those years to let something like that happen to her. And with a dog!

Another sip, and the liquor was gone.

She could go downstairs and fill up. But it was far too pleasant just sitting here half naked in her bedroom, thinking about sex, about what it would be like to have a man on top of her right now.

The bourbon was warming her belly. Janet passed one hand down her body in sympathy with that glow. She was tickling her smooth skin, warming the mound covered by her silken cuntal hairs. It was so good feeling those hairs. How hot she was even now! The light touch of her fingers made her pussy tremble, quiver under her hand.

Janet smiled, closed her eyes, and moved the other hand up to her big, firm tits. The touch gave her a chill. At first she thought about not touching herself any more. But she kept her hand there anyway, thumbing her nipple until it grew hard and pushed up out of the surrounding areola. The effect was electric. She sensed more tension in her body. Was she going to masturbate, finger herself while thinking of men?

It seemed so silly, so futile to do this. And yet what other way was there for a frustrated woman? She started rocking her hips, her eyes closed, as juice began to seep from her hot cunthole.

"Ummmm…" Janet smiled a lazy smile, her hands wandering all over her body.

The bed began to groan while the headboard rattled against the wail. The blonde woman was feeling high, spacey as her fingers worked up her body. When she rocked her hips faster, the heat spread out from her pussy. Juice leaked out. She was burning for more sexual release, for more sensation between her legs.

Janet's breathing had become shallow, rapid. She licked her dry lips, tossing her head against the pillow. The hand that rested on her belly trembled. She knew what she wanted to do with it. Biting down on her lower lip, she pushed her hand down, down until her fingertips were sliding over her puffy, greasy cuntlips. Janet jerked as if someone had slapped her, her knees propping up, then slowly sliding back down to the mattress. She dragged the balls of her feet over the coverlet while spreading her thighs farther apart.

Janet dipped a finger into her cunthole.

"Ummmm…"

The feeling was immediate and intense. She arched her back. Her face was a mask of intensity. Her eyelids closed tightly. The cords stood out against her neck. Janet was finger-fucking herself, scraping those sensitive, slick folds and hollows inside her pussy. Gasping with delight, she moved her finger around, feeling her pussy, wondering if a man's cock could feel the same thing when he fucked a woman.

"Cock… fuck…"

The words made her shiver even more. She needed someone, something to take care of her. It was so ridiculous, so lonely, doing something like this. She was a woman, a mature woman who was alone now, lying spread-eagled on her bed, fucking herself with her fingers when there were probably thousands of men out in Los Angeles who would have given their left nut to fuck her.

"I have to get up," she panted, sitting up, feeling terribly dizzy.

Turning, Janet saw herself in the mirror – a lonely, confused, and very attractive woman. She had been finger-fucking herself, feeling high, sexy. No wonder she looked as if she were about to rape the first male who walked by.

Janet heard something that made her freeze, made her cross her arms over her tits and shrink back. There was some scratching outside her bedroom door, some whimpering. It was Bodego. He must have heard her, must have smelled her while she had been playing with herself. He wanted in, wanted to touch her, wanted to… to lick her off again.

Janet felt herself getting up, moving across the large carpeted bedroom as if she were a zombie. It wasn't Janet Grayson doing this. Some dark force, something evil inside her, was doing this. Her right hand stretched out, shaky fingers grasping the doorknob and turning it.

Bodego bolted into the bedroom.

Janet closed the door, standing next to the bureau, wondering what to do. The animal was running around in circles, eyeing the bed, then turning his handsome powerful head and staring at her.

"This can't happen again… I can't handle it if it does," she said, passing her fingers over her forehead.

Janet teetered, almost gathering enough will power to back out of the bedroom and rush outside. Then her plight came back to her. Rush out to what? There wasn't a man waiting for her, his arms outstretched, his broad chest offering a place where she could lay her head on. There was nothing out there except a sassy daughter and a whorish niece.

Janet groaned, feeling something between anger and despair. All right, why not? Why should society shake its finger at her? Why should she worry about society and what it thought of what she did? It was nobody's business other than her own. Society, her daughter, her niece had done nothing for her except upset her. Well, now she was going to enjoy herself no matter what others might think.

"Ohhhh, Janet Grayson, you should be ashamed of yourself."

But she couldn't help smiling as she pronounced those words. Janet moved to the bed, sliding up, resting her head against the headboard and watching as the dog bolted up onto the bed, butting her thighs apart with his black muzzle.

"Oooooh!"

She stretched her arms out wide, clawing at the smooth coverlet while sliding her ass from side to side. She was juicing, wetting down her panties. Bodego was lapping at the band of nylon pressing against her hot, swollen cuntlips. The sexy swath of his tongue over the stretched, thin material was almost too much for her to stand.

Janet raked her fingernails over the bedspread while grinding her teeth. The dog was growling deep in his throat. She peered at him, watching that fuzzy head bobbing up and down between her white, firm thighs. It was a sight she couldn't believe. And yet it was a sight that excited the hell out of her!

"Ohhhh God! No, no, it's good, oh so good!" Janet shamelessly gasped.

She was rubbing her legs harder against the coverlet, rolling her head from side to side. She gasped for air, feeling as if she were choking from the rising excitement. The bed squeaked and groaned with her movements. Her heels dug into the mattress as she squirmed around.

"Ungnhhhhhh…"

Bodego was snapping at her cunt, twisting his head around and biting at the nylon. He was careful to keep from hurting her, concentrating his attention now on her juice-soaked panties.

Janet couldn't believe it. He was ripping the briefs from her, snatching her panties from her thighs. She heard tearing sounds.

"Oh Bodego, Bodego," she whispered, her words turning into cries of delight as the animal kept ripping the wet, silken material from her thighs.

In a few minutes the animal had stripped her thighs, torn her panties, until shreds of silk hung from her waist. Her cunt was exposed now. She could feel the slick inner surfaces of her pussy rubbing together as she wormed higher on the bed.

Bodego jumped, his paws striking her thighs. Janet opened her eyes wide, staring right at him. Her lover, her answer to all these years of frustration, of sexual denial. And there he was, a fuzzy, big dog with a knobby boner slipping out of his cocksheath again. Janet swore she would have to be careful this time. She had almost let him fuck her last time, had almost committed an act even she would have trouble justifying. She was going to be good, just let him touch her the way she liked. His tongue, that wonderful tongue, would be the answer.