Carlotta Graham - The animal urge

From where she stood stiffly near the far wall of the living room, staring out miserably at the steady autumn drizzle outside, Diane began to feel the first stirrings of real guilt, and she imagined how painfully humiliated Bill must feel after her indignant outburst and the abrupt halt she had brought to their love-making. Despite the annoyance she had often felt at his coarse, thoughtless comments during sex acts, she had never actually dared to follow her immediate impulse and walk away from him in plain disgust. But now that she had done it, she felt her heart swell with pity for the young, dark-haired man whom she really did love with all her being. She ransacked her unsettled mind for something comforting to say to him.

"I… I'm sorry, darling. I guess I'm just not in the right mood today," she finally said, her honeyed voice gently breaking the long embarrassing silence between them. But he seemed not to hear her and continued to peer down disconsolately between his legs, his gaze fixed on something secret and known only to him. Then, without warning, he straightened up with a wry, almost sardonic smile illuminating his face.

"Now don't worry, Diane. After this trip, we'll have enough money to buy you a big bed with velvet draperies and gold tassels on it, whatever it is that royalty like you and your family need to sleep on… Maybe then, you'll feel better about my terrible preoccupation with dirty, disgusting money. Who knows," he went on dryly, "you might finally turn into a decent fuck for your husband, despite yourself."

"Oh, Bill!" she cried out in disbelief, shocked by his lewdly cruel comment. Refusing to acknowledge his sadistic sarcasm further, she turned quickly away and stomped off toward their bedroom. As she slammed shut the door, and leaned her unsatiated young body back against it, she heard him call out in a contemptuous voice: "Could you please stir your aristocratic little tail long enough to hand out my suitcase before you lock yourself in? I've still got a business trip to make – if you don't mind too much."

The next day dawned cool and misty but Diane found herself humming a little tune and smiling, almost in spite of herself, as she moved slowly from pen to pen of the kennel in the early morning dampness, feeding the hungry German Shepherds and cleaning out their living quarters. Just as always, after Bill had left on a business trip, she felt her innate resentment toward the big, thoroughbred dogs fading away in the face of their obvious delight in her presence around them.

"It's not your fault, Sissy," she murmured warmly to a large gold and white bitch who was devotedly licking her hand as she scooped out a generous ration of dog meal into one of the many long feed troughs. "You poor dumb animals don't even realize that you're coming between Bill and me. Oh, God, I sometimes wish you'd manage somehow to dig under the fence and just run away – every last one of you beautiful brutes."

With a resigned sigh and a shrug, Diane rose to her feet again and picked up the heavy bag of meal, slipping out of the wire gate to the bitch's kennel and moving toward the one dog that was left to feed. Wolf, the son of one of the three finest German Shepherd champions in the country, lived in solitary comfort with the biggest shelter and the longest run of the yard to accommodate his sleek, powerful body's need for exercise. Except at mating time, he was seldom allowed to run with the other animals for fear that some mishap might mar the dog's perfect lines, lines that had proved to be worth almost as much in dog show prizes as in stud fees. Wolf was her husband's pride and joy. For that reason, she thought quizzically, Diane could never quite sort out her feelings about the monstrous black and tan beast.

Pulling her trench-coat more snugly around her against the sharp damp chill of the sunless morning, she stared inside the wire-fence enclosure for some sign of the magnificent brute. Like the true aristocrat he was, Wolf often slept later in the mornings than the other dogs, and Bill had frequently warned her not to step into the pen without first announcing her identity to the dog. It was dangerous to surprise him in his sleep because, as her husband had often warned her, his instincts were to attack a stranger, and besides, the dogs were always a little crazy when the bitches were in heat, such as some of them were now. It was several young bitches this time, ones that they had raised from puppies, so they would have to wait one more season before they could be mated. But the worried young dogs did not know that, and neither did the anxious males who had yelped and howled all last night against the fences that separated them from their breeding partners.

Wolf too must have worn himself out with his anguished cries of frustration last night, Diane decided as she reached his compound and saw no sign of him. Letting the heavy bag of dog food rest against her shapely sun-bronzed calf, she reached out and lightly shook the wire gate.

"Wolf. Wolf," she called timidly, preparing herself for the sudden explosion of growling and snapping that always came if he was awakened too quickly. "Wake up, boy. I've got your breakfast."

She could hear nothing over the noise of the other dogs yapping and rough-housing with each other and, half-fearful of the eruption of fierceness she expected at any moment, Diane pressed her young curvaceous body up tighter to the fence and summoned him more loudly: "Wolf, come on out here, boy! Wolf!"

From the inside of his wooden kennel, she thought she heard a low whining, and suddenly fearful, she unlatched the gate and slipped inside, dragging the food bag along behind her before she closed it again. Deliberately walking heavily on the hard-packed earth beneath her shoes, she stepped inside the dog's shelter and gasped with dismay as she saw him curled up on the floor, his great hairy back toward her as he licked frantically at his lower mid-section.

"Wolf, what's the matter with you? Are you all right?" she gasped aloud, alarmed. She took another tentative step forward to see what was wrong with the valuable beast. At the slight movement and the sound of her fresh young voice, the massive creature became aware of her presence in his kennel for the first time and with a menacing growl, he sprang to his feet, whirling around to face her. The girl's breath caught sharply in her throat and she froze involuntarily on the spot as she suddenly saw the real reason for the dog's preoccupation with his lower body.

The mammoth dog's long scarlet penis was glistening wetly as it stood out in full view beneath the hairy curve of his belly, thrusting excitedly in and out of its thick furry sheath, the heavily tapered cock-tip dancing obscenely in the air. My God, she exclaimed inwardly, he had what looked like an almost full erection!

Wolf's bushy tail started to switch rapidly back and forth over his hindquarters, showing his undisguised delight as soon as he recognized the human intruder in his pen, but the expression of pure, unadulterated fear did not leave Diane's face even at his obvious change of attitude. Her sky-blue eyes were wide and round with shock and disbelief as she gazed helplessly at the almost obscene spectacle before her. In the months that she and Bill had owned the kennel, buying and selling and caring for the purebred dogs, the beautiful blonde young woman had sometimes seen such things, but it had always been from the safety of outside the fence – and always a smaller, less imposing animal had been involved. Now, not even four feet away from the sexually excited beast, she stood staring, transfixed, barely able to believe the shocking size of the dog's fully-aroused sex organ. On a man, perhaps its hefty thickness and length would seem normal, or even maybe a little larger than normal, but to see this long scarlet shaft on a dog, a savage hot-blooded animal who probably weighed more than she did, filled her with a quivering dread that she could barely control.