Virginia Ryder: Little Courtney_s Family Secrets

She just laughed.

“He'd never do that,” she assured me. “He's too busy out drinking with his friends instead of staying home to fuck me like he should.”

Our dog Sampson, I could tell, was also alert to a possible stranger at the door, but was so well-trained he wouldn't move until I gave him permission. His ears were pointed straight up, his front legs trembling with the need to get into action.

Of course, he still had an enormous hard-on, so he was probably more intent on joining our sex party than protecting the house.

As I went to see, I heard James quietly tell Sharon, “I'll keep fucking you, but real slow so we don't make any noise.”

But even as slowly as he moved, I could still hear the wetness of her moisture-filled cunt as he again pushed himself deeply into her.

“Ohhh God,” the Goth girl groaned. “That feels so good and I'm so close to coming…”

“Keep it down in there,” I said back over my shoulder. “I'm going to the door.”

From where I stood in the foyer, I could still smell the obvious scent of sex, of pussy wetness and sweat. I shook my head, sighed, and partly opened the front door. By keeping it in front of me, and standing mostly behind it in my shorty robe, it effectively blocked the view back into the family room.

When I saw who was standing there, though, I almost fell over with surprise.

“My God, what are you doing here?” I blurted out.

Standing on our front porch was Dr. Jennifer Grayson, my sex therapist, holding her small leather notebook in both hands. She nodded to me, a confident smile on her pretty face, clearly expecting me to drop everything, meaning anything I'd been doing, and talk to her.

After all, it was my sexual problem she was apparently here to help with.

“As part of your therapy, Courtney, I need to observe your home life,” she told me, her bright green eyes subtly trying to peer past me into the darkened house. “If I'd called first, it wouldn't be as…spontaneous.”

Because it was after normal hours, she wore a simple white blouse tucked into a pair of tight designer jeans, spotlessly white tennis shoes and, as always, her large oval glasses. I'll admit, she was exceptionally striking, her slender figure enhanced by the unmistakable size of her womanly breasts and the firm-looking roundness of her great ass.

“I hope this isn't an inconvenient time,” she added.

I merely stared at her from around the door, trapped. It was clear she'd noted my skimpy robe, hastily wrapped around me, and-as a trained expert-probably even the growing panic in my eyes.

Of course, there was also that subtle smell of hot pussy in the air.

“Well…” I started, awkwardly. “No one's here-my kids are staying with their father tonight, so there's no 'home life' to, uh, observe…”

She gave me a professional little smile.

“It's not even dark out, yet you've got all the drapes closed and you're almost naked,” she said. “Are you up to some sexual activity in there, a group thing with strangers, perhaps?”

I almost managed to look shocked. Almost.

“No, I'm all alone tonight,” I said. “Just me.”

She nodded, then smiled again.

“Were you masturbating?” she asked, opening her notebook and extracting a slim silver pen. “After all, we both know you're a sex addict-”

I shook my head.

“Not tonight,” I cut her off. “I've got a headache, so I'm not in the mood.”

She began to smile at my slight attempt at humor, but at that moment absolute pandemonium broke loose from the direction of the family room.

“Holy Christ!” I head my son yell. “Stop it! Stop!”

This was followed by a piercing scream from Sharon that ended abruptly with a loud strangled gasp.

“Mom, come quick!” little Lucy called out, urgently. “Sampson's knocked James down and he's fucking the Goth girl to death!”

The rapid sounds of dog barks, yipping, high childish screams and wild scuffling suddenly followed from our family room. This caused Dr. Grayson and I to trade a quick look, frozen for a scant instant, before we both rushed in to help with whatever!

At the open archway to the family room, we stopped in stunned disbelief at the sight that greeted us.

“Good Lord!” the doctor gasped, possibly surprised (maybe even shocked!) for the first time in her professional life. “My God, this is a madhouse!”

And it was.

The naked 19-year-old Sharon was still on her knees, her hands clutching desperately at the carpet as Sampson fucked her doggy-style like the wild animal he was. His paws were wrapped so tightly around her waist she could not break free, his big red cock driving furiously into her sloppy wet cunt.

“Fuck, he's killing me!” the Goth girl gasped. “Ohhh God!”

Her dark purple lipstick was smeared across her mouth from sucking off the two young brothers, her raven hair sweaty and wild, her face contorted into an intense mask of both pleasure and pain.

She did, in fact, look insane.

“But I love it!” she panted. “Fuck me, damn it, fuck me, fuck me even harder!”

James and the two younger brothers, all naked from the waist down (their skinny cocks stiff and waving about wildly) were trying to pull our dog off Sharon as we first walked in. But then they stopped trying and simply stood back.

“She loves it!” Ray announced. “He's fucking her brains out!”

“That's her cunt he's fucking,” Clifford pointed out. “Her brains are at the other end…”

“We'll all fuck her as soon as Sampson's done,” James announced. “She's got such a great pussy!”

No doubt.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” Sharon kept repeating, her bare ass squirming back into Sampson as she tried to take his ramming dog-cock even deeper. “Yes, yes! I've never been fucked this good! Goddamn, I fucking love it!”

Sampson, in fact, was thrusting into her wet cunt so rapidly she was being scooted forward, inch by inch, across the carpet remnant, her knees certain to be rug-burned. It was clear to me then that, even though he was the best-trained and most obedient dog in the whole world, he had his limits.

And the Goth girl's succulent 19-year-old cunt was apparently that limit.

“This can't be happening!” Dr. Jennifer Grayson gasped, shaking her head as if the scene before her couldn't be true. “I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming…”

We both then noticed little 10-year-old Lucy in her black garter belt and crotchless panties.

She was sprawled on the carpet with her skinny bare thighs spread wide while an equally small and young Tara was holding her down, laughing crazily and pressing just the humming tip of my giant black vibrator against my daughter's wetly-parted pink cunt.

It was obvious Tara was centering the vibrating love-tool directly on my daughter's ultra-sensitive little clit.

“Mommy!” Lucy called out, panting. “Tara keeps making me come! Here I go again…oh, God, my pussy won't stop coming! Uhhhhh! Uhh!”

Both little girls were so engrossed in Lucy's multiple orgasms, but also so aroused at the sight of our canine fucking the living shit out of Sharon, that they didn't even notice my stunned therapist standing next to me.

“I can explain, Dr. Grayson,” I started, but then suddenly knew I couldn't. “Oh God, I'm so sorry…”

With a sigh of defeat, I turned to her, but then saw that her bright green eyes seemed even brighter than usual, unnaturally so. In fact, they were fixed upon our big dog frenziedly fucking Sharon. The doctor was also tightly clutching her notebook and pen, paralyzed, I guess, by the craziness before her very eyes.

“Dr. Grayson…” I asked, but she waved me aside with a vague gesture. “Doctor, are you okay…?”