Paul Gable: Mom and her dog

"Oh, God, don't stop now!"

Hilda was clawing the sheets, tearing the coverlet with her fingernails while beating the dog's back with her heels. Rex caught the urgency in her voice and went back to his lapping. If only a man's cock were in her she'd be milking it now with her cunt. The thought hurried her along into the hurricane of her climax. She pitched on her bed, yelping and growling as loudly as the Doberman. Bucking her ass against the Doberman's jaws, she felt his teeth cut her slightly. That sharp tickle brought more babbling groans of pleasure from her throat.

"Noooo!"

Hilda raked the fur with her fingers, pulling Rex harder and tighter against her. She scissored her legs around his back. Oh, how she wanted to howl, to scream out her delight at what was happening between her legs. But she didn't want to frighten the animal. Somehow, she managed to keep her excitement down, tossing her head, loving the feel of her hair splashing over her face. Her cunt was filled with an itching, tantalizing fire. The flames lapped up her thighs and belly. She quivered, her entire body shaking violently just before she came. The moment of madness was only a second away.

"Ughhhwawwhh!"

Then that second passed and lightning sliced through her cunt. It was as if someone were sawing her in two. Hilda pitched and tossed, yowling like a kicked animal while the animal stayed with her, lapping her convulsing cunt more hungrily than ever. It was heavenly, wonderful. What joy shot through her mind!

Hilda cried out again and again, not being able to have enough of that wonderful animal's tongue. She jerked and bucked and humped, finally shoving her fingers into her cunt and feeling the moist muscles clamp at her as the dog whimpered and licked her shaking knuckles.

"Oh, God, it's so good, I'm going to die," she wailed, feeling herself sinking into a vast ocean of sensuality.

When she opened her eyes again she found Rex lying next to her. Horror of horrors, she'd actually been hugging his strong, short-furred body against her. A swirl of thoughts came at her, but she gritted her teeth and shook them away. No, if she were to think seriously of the crime she'd just committed she'd put a razor to her wrists and slice them open.

"Oh!"

Once more she tried to deal with what had just happened. But once more her mind closed, unable to cope with it. Maybe later, much later when all the confusion now whirling around her died down. She smiled finally and ruffled the dog's fur.

"You crazy dog," she said, inhaling sharply and holding her breath until her eyes swam. Letting out the air, Hilda groaned, feeling the animal nuzzling closer, pressing his black snout against her soft belly.

Hilda got up from the bed and slipped a gown over her shoulders, opening the door and walking down the hall. How quiet the house was without her daughter slamming doors and yelling down the walls. Rex padded behind her down the stairs and into the kitchen. Hilda opened the frig and searched around, finding the steaks she had taken out of the freezer earlier to thaw. Rex looked on, his tail wriggling excitedly. She unwrapped a large t-bone, put it in a plate and set it down in front of the Doberman. He barked, then went after it hungrily, hacking at the bones with his fangs, holding the red meat down with one paw as he tore at it with his powerful jaws. Hilda bit her lip as she watched. He was just an animal, really. There was nothing human about him. In fact, she'd seen cats more human-like in their appearance and actions.

And yet there was something about the way he looked at her even now while tearing at his surprise dinner. He'd done things to her that almost had a human consciousness behind them. It was frightening to think along those lines.

"I think I've got to be losing my mind," she said, running her fingers through her hair and walking out of the kitchen.

Hilda made it to the liquor cabinet in the living room and pulled out a fresh glass, filling it a quarter of the way with gin. She was stone sober now, the wild sex scene upstairs having purged her body of the numbing liquor.

"Crazy, crazy animal," she murmured, drinking down the burning alcohol. Behind her she could hear Rex still chewing the steak. It had happened, happened with her consent. But now it was over. There was nothing in the stars stating she had to go down with the animal again. It was a slip, something that could never occur again.

Hilda sipped the drink again, gathering the gown modestly around her waist and strolling to the window. She pulled the drapes apart, staring out at the darkening scene. It was eight o'clock, still early in the evening. And yet she felt so exhausted. Of course, the animal had tired her out.

"Dogs…"

The woman giggled and took another sip. No one in the world could find out what happened. What could she do now except be philosophical. Yes, she could reason out her way from this dilemma. But what would others think if they even suspected what was going on between her and her pet Dobey? The thought was sobering.

Hilda's skin prickled with embarrassment as she pictured her daughter's horrified face. And the neighbors… Well, they'd certainly have a field day with that information.

"I was horny," she whispered to herself. "The dog smelled it. He knew." It had to be a crazy coincidence. Crazy, that's what it was. No, there couldn't be anything more to it. It's all over and done with.

Hilda sat down in a big chair and closed her eyes. Rex was still eating his steak. In a little while she'd go upstairs and turn on her small television set, then fall asleep. It was going to be a long, long evening.

At Emily Grabble's house, however, things were far from calm. The dark-haired girl had heard Traci calling from outside. Rushing to her window she saw the young teen swaying back and forth, her hair tangled, her body bruised around the arms.

Somehow she managed to get Traci upstairs to her room, calmed down to mild hysteria, and finally able to tell her what had happened. Emily sat cross-legged on the bed, her eyes rounding with fascination as Traci recounted how the bikers knocked her around, hit her, then finally all raped her.

"All three?" Emily managed to get out, her mouth opened.

"Yes. Oh, God, it was awful," Traci said, burying her face in her hands again and sobbing.

What she couldn't tell her best friend was that she had been excited through the whole routine. That knowledge was making her nervous, turning her into a wreck, making her unable to face her mother tonight. She begged Emily to phone Hilda, tell her anything, just making sure she didn't tell Hilda or Emily's parents the truth.

After the call was made Emily sat down next to Traci and took her hand.

"Now, do you want to call the police?" she asked, squeezing her friend's hand comfortingly.

Traci shook her head swiftly from side to side. She remembered Ron's threat. No, she wasn't going to have an entire biker gang chasing her and her mother through town.

"Then there's nothing you can do," Emily sighed, dropping the hand. "I suppose you can get ahold of some mace or something and protect yourself. But tell me the truth, Traci, was it all that bad?"

Traci stiffened, jerking her head around and staring into Emily's narrowing eyes. Her heart skipped a beat. Was there something in her voice, something in her expression that gave her away. She almost wanted to get up and stare into a mirror. She dropped her eyes away from her friend's examining stare.

"I thought so," Emily said, biting her lower lip and smiling knowingly. "Better than Don?"

The question cut her to the quick. Traci jumped up, clenching her fists.

"How did you know?"

"I didn't," Emily said, her face darkening somewhat. "But you sure gave yourself away," she blasted out.