Carlotta Graham - The lap dog

Angela looked up from struggling with a recalcitrant sheet fluttering in the breeze to see her only neighbor walking down the road towards the house. As usual, Angela experienced sharply conflicting emotions as she saw Sylvia Bennett's graceful figure approach. Was Sylvia Bennett a widow or a divorcee? She never seemed to give a definite answer to the question. A tall, elegant, undeniably beautiful brunette of twenty-seven or eight, Sylvia for some reason had chosen to live out here in the semi-open spaces all by herself, occupying much the same type of house that the Sims had. But Angela knew that Sylvia's loneliness was frequently broken by night-time male visitors whose cars usually remained parked in her driveway until the next morning.

Angela was genuinely fond of Sylvia, being able to sense the older woman's innate kindness and warm friendly nature. But, at the same time, Sylvia was unabashedly sex-oriented and her conversations often had the more innocent younger girl blushing in embarrassment at the wry manner in which she talked about her love fife and the various men she had known. There was also a certain electricity in the air when Sylvia was present that unnerved Angela, but maybe that had to do with sex. Even a simple act like bending down to pick up something assumed an air of sexual provocation when performed by Sylvia. While not as full-breasted or lushly curved as Angela, the taller and older woman had a lithe sinuousness to her elegantly shaped body that cried out a promise of sensuality. In a lovely face framed by a rich cascade of thick chestnut hair, Sylvia's eyes only added to her allure. Large and dark, slanted upward a little at the outside corners, they had been most aptly described by Jack as "bedroom eyes". If Angela had been a little less innocent and trusting, she wouldn't have permitted her husband anywhere near her dark-haired neighbor, for not only did Sylvia like handsome young men, but she was not bothered by the normal scruples about the sanctity of the matrimonial bond. As it was, Jack had only met her a few times, but Angela had been surprised by her usually garrulous husband's inability to hold up his end of the conversation in Sylvia's company. The ingenuous young wife was totally unaware of the powerful stirrings that went on in her husband's loins every time he saw his lovely and so obviously available neighbor.

"Hi honey," Sylvia sang out when she was within speaking distance. "How's the house slave?" Sylvia never seemed to do anything around her house, having contempt for all drudgery, yet her place was always clean and well cared for.

"Just thought I'd take advantage of the weather to do a little washing," Angela said, already flustered.

"You know, if you played your cards right, hubby might pay for his bedtime privileges with a nice new clothes dryer."

"Oh Sylvia, that's not fair," Angela answered, blushing a little. "Jack works hard but, just doesn't make enough money for something like that yet."

"Sorry honey, just my usual female chauvinist piggishness," Sylvia said blithely. "Oh, what's this?" she asked in surprise as she saw Hans. "So this is where that beautiful animal comes from that's been running in the woods the last couple of days."

"Jack got me the dog to keep me happy until he can get me a dryer," Angela said, half in revenge, wanting to vindicate her husband.

"Score one for good old Jack," Sylvia said, a little too familiarly for Angela's taste. "What's his name?"

"Hans," the young wife answered, and, as soon as he heard his name, the big dog got to his feet. He had heard Sylvia approaching but had been too drowsy and lazy to do anything dog-like about it. But now he saw Sylvia's lovely head over the top of the fence and became suddenly interested.

"My-my, look at all that equipment he's carrying around under his belly," Sylvia said lewdly. "There's going to be a lot of happy female dogs in the neighborhood." Angela blushed beet red, and, despite herself, her eyes dropped to the heavy furry sheath that dangled beneath Hans. Even the young housewife had to admit that Hans had a lot of "equipment". She desperately wanted to change to a less embarrassing subject but, as always, seemed at a loss for words in Sylvia's company. Sylvia came to her rescue.

"What I wandered over this way for was to see if you and your charming husband would like to come over some night soon and keep the poor lonely old neighbor lady company. That grateful old lady will cook up a big pot of curry if you do. And now maybe I should extend the invitation to include Hans… That's strange, where did he go?"

Unnoticed by the two women, Hans had padded silently over the grass and out the gate, coming up on Sylvia from behind. The first indication the lovely brunette had of his presence was when she felt his cool damp nose slide up the inside of her naked thigh under her dress. For just a second Sylvia's features lost their cool sardonic control and she looked like a startled child.

Despite herself Angela could not suppress a laugh. "That's his only bad habit," she said, but then, to her embarrassment, she saw that Sylvia was making no overt moves to discourage the big animal who continued to sniff higher and higher up under her dress.

"What's the matter, big boy," she said, looking back over her shoulder at the dog. "You smell a pussy… cat?"

"Hans!" Angela barked sharply as she realized that, for some reason, she was becoming more upset than she should. It was just that Sylvia could be so… lewd. As soon as he heard the sharp tone in his mistress' voice, Hans looked up sheepishly, drawing his nose out from under Sylvia's skirt.

"Oh, come on, boys will be boys," Sylvia said languidly. "But I must say, I haven't had that quick a pass thrown at me since the night that New York actor stuck his hand… but never mind. Anyhow, I have to go back to my little house and get ready for a trip into the city. Time to recharge my libidinal batteries. After you talk to Jack you will let me know what night you can come over, won't you?"

"Sure, Sylvia." Angela was beginning to feel a little foolish over the way she had let her dog's innocent action work her up. After a few more pleasantries, Sylvia started back down the road toward her house, which was just out of sight around a bend. Angela watched her go for a minute, as usual a little envious of her older friend and neighbor's seductive pantherish walk.

Angela wasn't the only one watching. Hans stood in the road outside the fence, ears alertly cocked forward, all his senses locked on his new acquaintance. There was something in Sylvia's manner that powerfully drew the animal to her. For a moment he seemed about to follow, but something warned him that, for some reason, his mistress would not approve, so he went back to he down once again in his favorite spot. However, it was a long time before the dog was able to settle down once again. He turned and fidgeted and sighed until finally he had found a position that pleased him.

The next day, on one of his regular runs in the cool whispering woods, the dog found himself not far away from Sylvia's house. He didn't actually think of it as Sylvia's house, but that was the direction in which she had gone yesterday. And then he saw her head and shoulders above the fence as she walked through her backyard. For a moment the big German shepherd stood stock still in intense concentration. Then, loping forward, he quickly approached the house. The gate to the backyard was slightly ajar, so Hans pushed it open with his nose and cautiously stepped aside, stopping once again as he saw Sylvia several yards away.

The dark-haired beauty was on the grass now, sunbathing on a large beach towel, wearing only her bikini bottoms, the discarded top lying nearby. Silently the big dog stared at the lovely woman lying half-naked only a few yards away, her tanned flesh shining softly in the warm sunlight. Sylvia seemed to sense his presence and looked around, starting a little when she saw him.