Paul Gable: The family_s loving pet

"Where are they?"

Janet Grayson tapped her fingers nervously on the edge of the coffee table, glancing up at the clock that hung over the large fireplace. It was nearly nine o'clock. Her daughter and niece knew they had to be home by eight-thirty sharp! What with all the muggings and rapes happening all over Los Angeles lately, Janet was frightened that the two attractive teens would be the latest victims if they were to stay out too late.

And yet, how could she be angry with them? They were normal young girls – hot, curious, the way she used to be.

"Ohhhhh…"

Janet closed her eyes, rubbing her cuntlips together by rocking her ass lightly on the sofa. How had it come to this? How had an attractive, vivacious young woman come to be regarded as an old maid, a dowdy aunt by her niece? Janet had heard those cruel words through her daughter's bedroom door, words that made her cry with shame. It hadn't always been that way. Janet's mother had worried about her when she was a teenager, worried that with her running around she would become pregnant and tossed out into the streets.

Janet smiled, her breathing becoming more rapid, more shallow as that ticklish, hot electric charge seeped from her clit and charged her thighs with heat. No, she didn't have to worry about that. Her husband Doug had been honorable – and one hell of a fuck to boot. Janet well remembered how they went home early from the prom that night, stealing away into Griffith Park high above Hollywood. Below them, the queers were busy trying to pick each other up with the cops tiptoeing in between bushes trying to catch them. No one thought of looking for a couple of straights making it in the bushes some four hundred feet away. How good Doug had felt, his thick-muscled hips rolling over hers, his knees spreading her legs apart while his big hands slipped under her ass and cupped her asscheeks. How they fucked! The word fuck! What a wonderful, beautiful word. Even now it made her flesh crawl.

All through college she and Doug were careful. They experimented after classes in his fraternity brother's off-campus apartment! It was like living through some sex manual. The more she tried, the more Janet liked. And Doug was more than a willing participant! Anything she thought of he could top. And they got along so well together.

It was a marriage made in heaven… or so she thought. For the first few years Doug was more athletic in the sack than he'd ever been. And Janet did everything he wanted – everything except take it in the ass. That had seemed going a little far, fucking in a way that would bring her more pain than pleasure.

It was shortly after Shari was born when she noticed a change in Doug. He started coming home late, making excuses for missed dinners. It was no surprise to her after a while when he asked for a divorce. Another woman? Janet laughed bitterly, blinking back the tears. Other women – several of them. He wanted his freedom, wanted to keep on experimenting with other cunts as well as with new techniques.

It was humiliating and terrifying. Janet had to go out and find a job, work for the first time in her life. She had made a go of it and had raised her daughter well… or so she thought. Now her sister's daughter Wendy was visiting from Brockton, Massachusetts, a girl Janet disapproved of the moment she met her. All that makeup, short clinging dresses, those eyes that scanned every available man at the airport! Janet worried about Wendy's influence on her far more modest daughter.

"Damn!"

Another fifteen minutes had passed and still the girls weren't home. Janet had told them not to stay for the second feature at the theater. Several young girls in the neighborhood had been brutally raped recently… picked up in front of their own homes! The police thought some group of sadists were behind this. Most of the girls had been too ashamed or incoherent to offer a straight story. From what the authorities could gather, at least three, perhaps four, men were involved, forcing the kidnapped girls to commit all sorts of sexual acts before letting them go. It was a sign of the times, Janet knew. Cases like this were appearing all over the city, the country. Men were taking young girls and forcing them to…

"Unghhhh!"

Why was she shivering like this? Why did she feel so weak? Janet rubbed her arms, feeling how her flesh had crawled up into goosepimples! And that throbbing itch between her legs was worse, more concentrated, sapping the strength from her body. Her pussylips were swelling, the puffy edges becoming slick, while juice seeped up hot and bubbly and creamy. Janet closed her eyes again, trying to keep her mind on her daughter and niece. She should throw on a coat and rush outside looking for the girls. She should…

"Ohhhhh!"

Worse! It was getting worse every damned night! Janet had buried all those feelings about sex, or so she thought. Men wanted one only thing – to sneak up a girl's legs, slip their cocks into her cunt, then walk away before she could make them answer to what they'd done. That's what these maniacs were doing in her neighborhood. But at least they were honest about it. They only wanted to beat and fuck, then let the girl go. Men like Doug were hypocrites.

No, she wasn't going to go out and find another man like so many of her divorced friends were trying to do. She couldn't imagine herself sitting on a barstool, eyeing attractive men, acting like some overheated teenager when she was a woman of thirty-four.

"God!"

But still, what could she do about that itchy ache growing worse and worse with each passing second? Masturbate? She had done that several times, plowing her fingers through her cunthairs, digging her fingernails into her soft, moist pussymeat, rubbing her knuckles against her clit and trying to keep from making too much noise while her cunt shivered in climactic explosion. That had helped, had taken the edge off her sexuality.

But lately even that hadn't done her much good. In a while, the ache was back, the desire to have something touching her, something beside herself. She needed a man on top of her, holding her, making love to her! Thinking of things like that now only made matters worse.

Rising from her chair, Janet steadied herself, brushing back her long hair and staring at her image in the full-length hall mirror. Yes, she was still an attractive woman. Standing a bit on her toes, she twisted to the left, arching her back a bit to push out her full bustline. Janet could understand why men stopped and looked at her. Her classic facial features, her long neck, her high-riding thirty-seven inch tits, her firm, supple thighs and her long legs were certainly things to make a man's dick press up against his trousers.

Janet's smile faded. She saw her flushed face, revealing the lust simmering beneath that apparently calm surface. What was the good of all her attractive features? Who was going to see her tonight, who would appreciate her looks? Her daughter? Her niece? Janet laughed bitterly, folding her arms tightly over her tits and starting to pace the living room. There would be no one tonight.

Janet had just about decided to leave the house when she saw Bodego, her pet Airedale standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Oh, Bodego, did I forget to feed you?"

She unfolded her arms, smiling at the dog. He was her only friend, the only thing other than her daughter in the world that loved her. He wagged his stubby tail back and forth, his long sloppy pink tongue hanging from one corner of his mouth. She reached down and ran her fingers through his stiff, wooly, curly fur. Janet had purchased him as a puppy years ago when the crime rate in Los Angeles had started to rise. Since then he'd been an invaluable pet to her, warning of intruders, and in general providing some of the love and affection she had so desperately needed lately.