William Scott - Mary_s great dane

"You mean my husband?" Mary asked as Pete heard her sucking in her breath sharply.

Rose ginned. "I mean my big lover-dog, baby. I do not mean your husband, though he's a good fuck, too."

Rose threw back her head and began to laugh boisterously. "Ho boy, would I like to see that!" she cried at length. "I'd just love to see the Great Dane part those pretty legs of yours, Mary, and ram in the old prong. I'll tell you something, honey. Once he's got it buried in your cunt, you'd realize you were getting made. Boy oh boy, would you realize it. It would drive you right out of your skull, it feels so good. There's nothing like having wild sex once in a while. Dog sex, I mean. Dog sex is the wildest sex I can think of…"

Her voice trailed off and her head dropped down onto one shoulder momentarily. She jerked her head up straight then just as Pete was about to speak sharply to her. "Ho boy," she muttered. "Guess your wife, Pete, wouldn't be interested in Man. Guess your wife thinks I'm crazy, eh?"

Pete and Mary exchanged glances again. "I don't think any such thing, Rose," Mary said hastily. "I suppose all of us have had a bit too much to drink."

"I ain't drunk, Goddamn it!" Rose cried passionately. "I'm just a hot bitch who likes to be dog-fucked. You would, too, if you had the courage, Goddamn you!" She spat on the floor savagely. "Goddamn fuckin' people, ain't none of you got the guts to throw up."

Mary and Pete were on their feet and heading towards the front door before Rose had stopped sputtering. "Good-bye, Rose," Pete said.

"Fuck you, you lousy son of a bitch!" Rose yelled at him.

Pete shrugged and, taking Mary's arm, steered her to the car. They climbed in and he drove home, neither of them saying a word about Rose's outrageous behavior. There appeared to be nothing to say. They entered the house, had a few drinks together and finally went to bed without mentioning the scene.

Pete slept fitfully and had a sexually wild dream that left him wet with sweat when he awakened during the night. He sat up, gave his head a shake and stretched out his hand to touch Mary, but she was not in bed. He turned on the bedlamp and saw the door of the bathroom standing ajar, but there was no light on in the room.

"Mary," he called. "Are you in the bathroom?"

Then he heard her flushing the toilet and lay down flat on the bed. She came out of the bathroom and looked at him and smiled slightly.

"I had a hell of a dream," he told her. "But I seem to have forgotten what it was about."

Her lips parted more. "You, too? Boy, did I have an awful dream. There was this horrible-looking beast trying to overpower me and rape me. Each time he'd get me down he'd slip off, scoot away and fall down. He appeared to be wearing roller skates."

Pete laughed in relief. "That's crazy stuff. What else happened?"

Mary giggled. "Well, each time the beast would come at me, he would first of all glance down at his hard-on and frown. Then he would stick his dingus into a pencil sharpener and turn the crank."

Pete laughed again. "To make it more pointed?"

"I guess so. Talk about a nutty dream." Mary climbed in bed on her side and reached over to feel his prick. It was soft but quickly became hard. "Hey, my man's got a hard-on."

Pete winced. "Do me a favor and don't call me your man."

"Oh… I get you. Rose calls the dog that. Brother, what a wild, sex-crazed broad. Never saw anyone like her before."

"And you probably never will again," he replied. "She's a weirdo if I ever saw one."

"But you know something, honey? She's a weirdo, all right, but somehow or other she comes off interesting."

"Comes off interesting, eh? Boy, what a thing to say," he replied, laughing.

"I didn't mean it that way," Mary said, grinning. "I mean she seems to be interesting."

"Yeah. I know what you mean and I have to admit she is interesting. That's because she's so damned unusual. That woman has been screwing dogs for years. Craziest thing I ever heard of."

"She kind of gets to you, doesn't she?"

"In some nutty manner, she does," he replied.

"Tell me the truth, honey. Does she make you very hot when you think about her and what she does?"

"Sometimes, not all the time. Sometimes, when I think of what she does, it turns me off like mad. I have a feeling of… something or other about her then. I'm not sure of what it is yet."

Mary giggled as she played with his dick. "She makes me hot, even. That dream made me hot, too. Guess I'll help myself to some of your sauce, honey."

Pete smiled tensely, his cock quivering now. "Please," he said, "be my guest."

Mary cried out something that was unintelligible to him and lowered her head to his stiffened prick. He closed his eyes when he saw her do this, and suddenly felt the slight, light but wet tugging of her lips and tongue on his rod. She held his hard-on at the base between her forefinger and thumb and every now and then she would give it a pumping motion that nearly caused him to erupt, but each time she would cease the action before he could ejaculate.

"God," he muttered, "you make me hot, honey. Suck faster, can't you, please?"

Her head began to bob up and down maddeningly over his prick and now she was jacking him with her hand as her mouth enveloped his twitching tool.

"I'm going to blow, baby!" he cried out suddenly. "Get ready! Here she comes! Oh, Jesus!"

Mary's head continued to bob up and down as she sucked out of his prick every drop of fuck juice he had. Even when his cock had ceased to squirt into her warm, wet mouth, she moved up and down on it as though trying desperately to make him explode again.

He stiffened his entire body without realizing it and did exactly as Mary apparently intended him to do.

His dick exploded in her mouth for the second time.

When Mark and Cindy returned to the city, Cindy called Pete immediately and asked him and Mary over to dinner. Pete laughed and told her they had already eaten, but both he and Mary would like to see them and asked if they might come later. Cindy told him they could indeed, and Pete hung up and went to look for Mary. He could not find her anywhere, not even in the back yard. The car was not gone, so he suspected she had gone to visit one of the neighbors, a thing she rarely did, most of their neighbors being of a different bent than Mary.

He went back into the house and went to the bathroom and showered. When he had toweled his powerful body dry, he dressed and returned to the front room. Mary lay on the sofa, a drink in her hands. "Hey," he said. "Where were you? I looked all over for you. Mark and Cindy called. I mean she did, and invited us over. I've showered. Are you ready to go? I mean, can you get ready quickly?"

Mary straightened up and looked askance at him. "I'm not sure I want to, honey. Oh, I don't mean not want to see Mark and Cindy. I mean I'm not sure I want to go next door to Rose after the way she screamed at us and called you names and… well, you know."

He shrugged. "Hell, we can't let her separate us from our friends."

Mary nodded thoughtfully and finished her drink. "All right. I guess you're right, honey. I'll take a shower and get ready. Won't take me long. Half an hour."

It required an hour and forty minutes before she was set to go, but when she entered the room and turned around lightly on one foot to let him see her, he drew in his breath sharply and wished they were not going anywhere. Mary looked lovely. That was the word for it. Lovely. White blouse, short black skirt, black pantyhose and shoes of the same color. Pete looked her up and down, noting her legs especially.

"Beautiful pair of legs, baby," he said. "Do I know you?" he added, grinning.

She smiled at his remark. "You have fucked me often, sir. Surely you remember the poor little street urchin you found stumbling through that winter storm, alone and freezing to death. You must recall, sir, how you took her into your home, warmed and fed her, bathed her and then fucked her all night long. How can you have forgotten?" She pretended to weep at the very thought.