Rick Jennings: Pet shop pussy

Whether or not it was a defense mechanism, a subconscious barrier she put up around herself to ward off men, was something that only a psychiatrist could tell her. And since she was not in analysis, she had to rely on her own sense of self. She'd introspected on matters such as these for years, never coming up with an answer that would somehow save the day and save her life from the drudgery of being alone.

Now, Bix was there for her and she knew it was better than nothing. The dog was obviously quite content to lie on top of her. He was slightly oversized for the breed, though judges hadn't ever held it against him. But now that he had earned his points and his title of "Champion", she had decided to forego the showing for awhile, realizing that involving herself with the dog had just been another way of whiling away the hours, passing the time between working and sleeping. Or maybe, she told herself then, just living and dying.

Self-defeat, self-pity, were the two emotions she feared most of all, even more than opening up to others, laying herself vulnerable and bare, naked inside and out. She gave her affections to her animals, to Bix in particular. And when his tongue slid down from her lips to move back and forth along her chin and the edge of her neck, the pleasure it afforded her could not be easily dismissed.

She let go of him then and raised her hands above her head, yawning, tossing her bouncy honey-blonde tresses this way and that. The mirror right across from her reflected her every move and she could see her face coming back at her, a face that was still not alive to the start of another day.

The covers slid down around her waist as she propped the pillows up behind her back and reached over to the night table to get a cigarette. Pam never wore pajamas or a nightgown to bed, preferring to sleep in the nude, just the sheets and bedding touching her naked flesh.

And today was no exception. The covers were crumpled up around her waist and just as she struck a match for her cigarette, she gave a start and looked down, amazed by what Bix had taken upon himself to perform.

He was still lying down on top of the blankets. But now, he had turned his attentions away from her face, his tongue sliding hotly right between her naked and rounded breasts. She lit the cigarette then, inhaled deeply and pressed her head back against the foam rubber pillows.

She could see what was happening reflected in the mirror and the sight was oddly intriguing as much as it was just plain amusing. Bix seemed determined to lick every inch of her body, as if he was grooming her for the show ring the way she had so diligently groomed him.

And Pam had no desire in the world to put a stop to the dog's oral attentions. The slurp of his tongue could be heard and she trembled as he slid his cold wet nose over until it rubbed against one of her sleeping nipples.

Idly, she reached down with one hand and ran the tips of her fingers over one nipple and then the other. "See the little nose, Bixie," she giggled, amusing herself as she caught one flaccid nipple between her thumb and forefinger, shoving it forward right in the dog's face.

Bix lashed out with his tongue slurping over the nugget of tit-flesh she pushed in his face. Pam sighed languidly and pushed the covers back, letting the cool air which circulated through the opened bedroom windows caress her tawny thighs, the smooth and slightly rounded hillock of her belly.

She watched Bix as he continued to lick this way and that. And when she finally let go of her nipple, she was not even surprised to see how its previously flaccid state had undergone a marked change. Now, both of her nipples seemed perky, taut, standing up stiffly and capping her full rounded breasts.

And as the Scottie kept licking them, they seemed to grow even more turgid, hard fleshy points like bright pink berries. Another shiver coursed through her body and she gently eased the dog down. She spread her thighs apart to make room for him between her legs.

"You're a good boy, Bix, a real gentleman," she whispered with a pleased and affectionate smile, never doubting the dog's loyalty or devotion to her, a sense of always being where no man in the last five years had ever convinced her of truly feeling.

But she missed men and even more with each passing day. She was acutely aware of her lacks, her needs and it came as no surprise to her when her hands seemed to move on their own accord. Almost involuntarily, as if they had a mind of their own, they slid down until her fingers were pressing against the top of Bix's black-haired head.

"Come on, Bixie. You know how to do it," she said in a whisper that was clearly authoritarian, the sound of her voice the same tone as when she had first begun to train the Scottie.

Bixie didn't bark or attempt to pull away, despite the uncomfortable and insistent pressure of Pam's two hands. Instead, he crouched down and then buried his face forward, just as she lifted her legs so that her knees were raised up and the soles of her feet were flat against the top of the mattress.

When she let go of his head, she whimpered softly, savoring the way Bix's tongue was now moving in almost concentric circles, lashing around her tawny pubic mound. Her eyes were glued between her legs and she stared at herself, knowing every detail of her body, but still pleased with her appearance.

The narrow triangular crop of short wiry dark-blonde pubic hair was being licked again and again. Bix was drooling over her pussy and she knew from past experience that the very smell of her cunt, even after she had just washed herself or taken a shower, turned the dog on to a most remarkable degree.

There was no need to tempt him; to coat her pussy with whipped cream or jam. All she had to do now was lean back against the pillows and enjoy his oral caresses, the attentive and diligent way his tongue was snaking her meaty pubic mound.

She kept staring even as the first telltale flickers of delight began to grow more noticeable, welling up inside of her. The walls of her cunt were soon fluttering spasmodically, gently undulating and fibrillating against each other.

A thin oily trickle of vaginal sap rolled down the length of her canal, oozing out like dripping syrup, right between the thin narrow lips of her pussy. And when Bix tried to push his tongue between them, she didn't hesitate to encourage him further.

"That's it, good boy, keep going; Bixie don't stop," she urged, her fingers sliding hotly up and down her body, her palms rotating over her stiff-standing and inflamed nipples. Finally, she reached down between her legs and even as Bix's tongue continued to probe the damp recesses of her vulva, her fingers grabbed hold of the twin flaps of puffy and tingling meat that bordered her gash.

She splayed them back with a single fluid motion of her hands. She sucked in her breath as well as she exerted pressure, peeling her cunt lips wide to expose the raw glistening meat of her clitoris and vulva. The pulpy button of cunt-flesh was already jutting out like the tip of a baby's little finger.

Her training now paid off, for the instant she peeled back her vaginal lobes, the dog took a deep sniff and worked his tongue right over the erect little nugget of meat that was her clitoris. A spastic shiver of raw delight made her legs shudder and she gasped loudly as she felt the flicker of delight growing in strength, welling up inside of her pussy.

It was always like this, this slow and deliciously torturous ascent to the point of climax, the pinnacle of raw erotic release. "Come on, good boy, more," she whispered, demanding that the Scottie service her.

She thrust her crotch forward and her hips began to undulate with rhythmic insistence, her body writhing gently on the bed. More and more cunt juice spilled down from the shuddering walls of her pussy, only to be gobbled down, slurped and sucked up by the dog's fast-moving tongue.