Charles Richards - A Kingdom Of Love

The dog did not hesitate but was upon her immediately Joan felt her pussy quivering with anticipation, as his hard lean hips nestled rigidly between her spread buttocks and his forepaws clutched around her waist. She hunched up farther on the couch and drew the puppy to her breast. While Prince poked his prick between her legs, trying to make connection with her cunt hole, she held one breast out from beneath her weight for the puppy to nurse. The pup whined his pleasure and sucked the tit into his mouth making big slurpy sounds. With his hot tongue he began to lash the rubber hard nub and to draw the areola deeply toward his hungry throat.

Prince's humping hips were becoming more frantic now as his dick searched for Joan's pleasure hole. She reached beneath herself and back until she found the hot pulsating cock and drew the thrusting member to the entrance of her cunt lips. She could feel the hot pink blade of his tool part the hair as it wormed its way toward exactly the right place.

Then, for an instant the dog's hips paused as the tip felt the lips of Joan's pussy part and her hand slide the phallus into place. When he was sure the slim fleshy rod would not pop out he plunged forward with all his might and Joan felt the dog's cock sear deeply into the wanton walls of her cunt. She tensed the muscles of her pussy so that the utmost friction took place and humped herself backwards onto the rod with a groan of, carnal joy.

Prince began to fuck the girl with quick hard thrusts, ramming his heated prick in and out, in and out so that the front of her legs were soon pressed against the couch. The dog's tongue lolled from its mouth and he began to pant rapidly and jaggedly.

The incredible feeling of Prince's driving thrusts caused Joan to moan aloud. "Fuck me, Prince, fuck me. Oh! How I love that dog cock!"

The dog was in a lather now. Foam began forming about his jowls and his eyes gleamed with lust. He rammed his slim hindquarters faster and faster from behind Joan.

Amanda watched the pair as their passion mounted. She looked about the room hurriedly, not wanting to miss a movement between them. Her eyes found what she sought. She reached for the brass leash and swooped it up. Then stringing it between her legs she rocked herself to-and-fro on its length, still feasting her eyes on the beautiful girl fornicating with the dog. From between her lips came a soft sound like a dove. It was barely audible between the groans and pants from Joan and Prince.

Amanda's eyes wheeled up in her head from the rubbing of the chain between her legs and she saw the room in a milk glass light globe. The first whimper of the painful screech Prince would emit upon cumming interrupted Amanda's masturbatory reverie.

Of all the worlds of pleasure that Prince afforded Amanda, the unearthly way he howled as if in pain was the only thing that made Amanda sad. She had prayed to understand it, since it happened with Prince was coupled to a bitch as well.

But Joan seemed to ignore it or understand it with placidity. She humped her ass back at Prince as fast as she could. Her body sweated so that when Prince's lean hips slapped her backside it sucked between her buns with an audible sound.

Smack, crack, Amanda reacted to the sound by rocking harder on the whipping brash chain.

Joan was grunting now with the effort of keeping up with the quick hot thrusts from the Dane. He socked the knife-like blade of his pink prick deeply into Joan's seething cunt. His hairy black loins were almost chattering against the girl's ass with each thrust.

Amanda heard the dog's whine deepen to a whimper and knew he had started to cum.

Joan had felt her own orgasm well up in her womb as if in response to the howl's growing depth. Her churning, sweaty hips were like wheels of glazed passion as her pussy seized the dog cock in its grasp, and she felt the hot, seething semen burst into the moist canal of her box. Her labia literally fluttered as her cum exploded around the red hot prick.

It felt like a glowing fire poker as splash after splash of Prince's seminal fluid twirled up the walls of her throbbing cunt. Both the girl and the dog shook as if vibrated by lightening in the throes of the orgasm. Prince howled at the peak of his lungs while Joan rolled in oblivion, and Amanda wailed for Prince's pain as she came from the knobby links of the rubbing chain.

Joan Engle stood by the ringside of the main tent and watched the circus performers work out.

In the middle stood a blonde Adonis supporting the weight of twelve men on his shoulders. It was the young strong man, Justice Holt. All the circus posters were full of his face.

He was built like Michelangelo's David. His gaze as it peered regally from the cardboard signs that were shouting from every shop window that the circus was in town charged deep thrills into the hearts of romantic women, insisting: You shall come to see me perform. You shall come.

And Joan could see why the signs were so effective as she stood just outside the ring and her eyes met Justice's. He was cool and sure of himself under the weight of twelve sweating men. Her eyes dropped with practiced acumen to his loins and beheld the fist-like bulge.

What a magnificent beast! she breathed to herself wishing to humble her mouth at this proud bulging staff. Sometimes it's like I need a man after a night with Prince, Joan thought and wondered at the compulsion.

But the man did not seem willing to acknowledge her interest. He was a base beneath a tree of people; he did his job and that was that.

Realizing he could not simply stride over and take her to his cave, Joan eyed the strong man and amused herself with imagining kissing his cock and mouthing his balls. Her face must have been telling quite a story, for a female voice surprised her as it purred from beside her:

"He's not of the animals, kitten." Joan turned to find herself looking into a face identical to Amanda's, only lustier.

"I'm Myrna Westmore and you're Joan Engle," Amanda's twin said without doubt of her conviction. "Amanda told me everything about you and her description fits you exactly."

Without wishing to reveal it Joan was taken aback by the woman's presence. She was, indeed, Amanda with a whip in her hand: a woman who tamed big male cats. A shiver akin to fear chilled through Joan.

"Yes, I'm Joan Engle. How do you do?" Joan answered finally and felt like a fool with her formal tone.

Myrna laughed, "You can call me Bwana Lady later. But until you get to know the place, make it Myrna, okay?"

Joan relaxed a little, hoping Myrna was human after all. "I'm sorry.

It's just that, well, he's so strong and all." She motioned vaguely at Justice standing beneath the twelve man triangle.

"You know, they always look like a pool rack to me." Myrna's voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper with a grin. "Only trouble is the cue ball would have to be Justice and there'd be nothing to stroke but air without him."

Joan was not sure she knew what Myrna meant but she laughed anyway and let the woman lead her away from the center ring.

Everything seemed to twirl about the girl. It was as if the lives who moved through the giant tent were caught forever on a ferris wheel.

What would it feel like to be a part of all this big top?

Unknown stories above her head she could see an aerial team flying through a work out. The taut, bright hi-wires seemed as full of people as musical notes to the awe-struck girl. And all day long it was like that. The following hours were a maze of brightly colored people drifting through Joan's eyes. She felt in a daze like fog on a horizon and was nearly exhausted when finally she found herself alone late that night.

She had been assigned a compartment on a train car just big enough to stash a bag and her body in for a night's sleep. It was a box smaller than a closet laid over on its side.