Richard Van Dorne - Daddy_s delight

Dora put a hand to her throat and looked around the restaurant with startled eyes similar to those of a partridge uncovered by a hunter in tall grass. Besides everything, Jane's lewd description of her fall from grace had set up a furious turmoil in the love-starved redhead's loins. Suck, fuck, all those filthy words she had been taught to avoid… fucking in the ass… oh God, this was dreadful… disgusting… and yet… and yet…

"Oh, here they are," Jane gloated, taking the pictures out of her purse. She thumbed through them briefly, sighing nonchalantly, "Of course, these are mainly Polaroids from swapping. I see I don't have any of Juan. What a pity. Such a beautiful boy, too. Well, have a look at these, dear, and tell me what you think."

A sharp steel band seemed to be cutting with evil pressure into Dora's forehead on a line just above her eyebrows. Her eyes widened until there was a full circle of white around the edges. Her nostrils breathed hotly, her mouth partly open, as she accepted the photographs and dazedly began to thumb through them.

And there it was – the most ghastly scenes a middle-class mind could possibly imagine! Jane Hammond in lewd embrace with any number of strange men, being fornicated with their slick shining penises buried deep within the soft black curl-covered mound of her moist pubic hair, or her mouth wrapped around their penises, devouring, sucking on them… and her husband Jack was there too, having intercourse with some gorgeous young redhead, or brunette, or blonde, or… having his penis sucked by them… or sucking on their large, their medium, their small hard breasts… or licking tantalizingly between the glistening folds of their wide-splayed cunts…

And then suddenly there was a photograph peeping out of the group so startlingly obscene in its display that it made all the rest of them pale by comparison. Dora gasped and put her hand to her throat, dropping the rest of the pictures to the table and floor. Jane exclaimed something and bent ungracefully to retrieve them. Curious glances were being shot their way from the other tables.

"Jane… Jane…" Dora breathed brokenly, "what… what is that…" She held the photograph up limply in her trembling hand.

Jane peered over and around at it, shuffling the other pictures and dropping them negligently into her purse.

"That, dear? Why, that's Shep, the Carter's dog. You remember them – from Sunnyvale Avenue in the oak-tree belt. Handsome, isn't he?"

Dora gulped. Her eyes fastened unbelievingly on the amazing scene in the photograph. So far as she could tell – as much as her middle-class brain cried out that it simply could not be true – her fiercely pounding heart was telling her that this picture depicted a real-life photograph, not a montage, of Jane Hammond being fornicated in her anus by a large, powerful German shepherd, its sleek brown coat shining, its long pink tongue hanging out of its smartly good-looking face, its forepaws mounted on Jane's bare milky white back. And once that had registered, the shocked woman tried to grasp the rest of it, for there was not merely naked Jane Hammond and the dog in the picture… for Jane was also sucking on a man's penis, very large and heavily swollen with blood-engorged blue veins, while still a third party – he looked like a twelve year old boy, very blonde and blue-eyed, was lying on his back underneath Jane's hanging breasts and sucking on one of them while he squeezed the other.

Time seemed to stand still as Dora struggled wretchedly to classify the amazing scene that was so clearly catalogued before her in blazing Technicolor. Her mind and senses could not immediately grasp it. She stared at the photograph with the same fascination a rabbit shows for the hypnotizing cobra, and with the same concentration of mental effort. She struggled to analyze, to classify, to categorize, just what was going on. But none of it resembled in the remotest sense anything else she had ever witnessed in her entire sexual life, having been confined as it was to just one man, her husband Guy Donovan.

Her breasts heaved with emotion, the triangle of her mature, hair-fluffed pussy felt as if it were being stabbed with tiny needles. There was Jane Hammond, the dog panting above and behind her, its long red penis shining with something sticky and wet as it obviously slid in and out of her nether hole or wherever it was – perhaps it was actually sliding in and out of her cunt, but with a two-dimensional photo it was hard to tell – the man's lust-inflated member all thick and shining with white milky cum echoing slightly from the edges of Jane's hungrily sucking lips… her long black hair falling out over-her back and sides… the boy sucking on her enormous breasts…

Dora closed her eyes and felt slightly faint. Her loins were literally swarming with sensations both warm and honeyish at the same time. In another moment she felt as if she might swoon… and then it came… the abrupt tickling of her pussy by someone's insolent finger through the side elastic of her thin white panties! Only this time it was for real! "Why – Jane! What are you doing?"

Jane smiled innocently from across the table, perfectly composed. A casual observer wouldn't have had any idea that her hand was beneath the table, one finger tickling maddeningly at the center of her friend's vulnerable pubic region.

"Just seeing if you were turned on, darling." She withdrew her hand and placed it on the coffee cup with the other. Her index finger shone wetly at its tip where it had teased the lips of Dora's urgently seething pussy. "I see that you are." She bent her head slyly to the coffee cup, continuing to watch Dora.

"Why, I…" Dora attempted to protest, but it came out very weak indeed. Jane's finger had pushed the urgency in her loins past the danger point. Her breathing seemed to be coming very fast. She glanced downward and found her breasts swelling very firmly against the ordinarily shapeless Monday dress, wondering why they were aching so – was it the intense erotic pressure generated by the lewd photographs Jane had so casually passed to her? Now her morning orgasm had been really totally forgotten beneath the heady onslaught of the urgent hedonistic sensations promulgated via Jane's Polaroids. And that dog – God! Despite her best control and intentions, the sight of the German shepherd's sex-slickened shaft impaled within Jane's nether cheeks was probably the sexiest thing she had ever seen.

Of course, one occasionally heard people making jokes about human beings having relations with good-looking masculine animals like German shepherds, but she had always tacitly assumed that this was mere legend and talk. Dreams in the night – or nightmares. One thought of the horned-headed satyrs with torsos like men set on horses' bodies. And dogs, of course. Beasts of the field.

But here, in Evanston? Wilmette, the North Shore? It seemed scarcely believable.

"You don't believe it, do you?" Jane asked after an almost-tangible silence, leaning back in her chair and looking at her old girl friend. She smiled, "More to the point, you don't want to believe it – that a woman could really go out of her mind being fucked by a dog."

Fucked by a dog. That phrase stuck heatedly in Dora's sex-parched brain. What would it be like… to actually have that bright pink-red penis sliding as slickly in and out of one's vagina… cuntal walls clutching hungrily at it… grasping it… as it passed achingly, agonizingly on through… And then she remembered… remembered what it was that had finally accomplished her orgasm with Guy that very morning. In the heat and anxiety of everything else, coupled with ever-present necessity of running the household, she had totally forgotten. But it had actually been the thought and remembered vision in her lust-craving head of their powerful pet Brute fucking hard into that other dog in the park…