The family pet

CHAPTER ONE

The spring sunshine fell warmly through the open window onto the naked torso of the tall full-breasted redhead who was stretching and yawning her voluptuously proportioned breasts as she breathed in deep, and her long red wavy hair spreading out across the pillow like a heavy fan.

Mrs. Georgia Rogers stretched as she awoke, blinking slightly at the fresh morning sunlight. When they had gone to bed the night before she had forgotten that the new daylight saving time would probably mean more sunlight in the morning, and she had left the curtains open.

Not that she minded a bit waking up to the refreshing spring sunshine. She was feeling spring all over lately – particularly up between her firmly curved thighs, and the fact that Howard had been rather preoccupied lately had served as well to keep her natural sexual interests rather highly stirred. Spring warmth was kerosene to that flame, instead of a healing balm. But she didn't mind. In fact, the young wife rather enjoyed it, because then her orgasms would be all the more lusty and overwhelming when they finally came.

Georgia shrugged and all of the sheet fell away from her opulently contoured body, revealing, beside the ripe fullness of her lust-inciting breasts, her nicely rounded belly, the tiniest of waists, flawless white skin, and just the hint of burnished red pubic hair at the center of her loins. She had the unusual sort of redheaded coloring seen only rarely – bright coppery hair and the most perfect of creamy complexions, and a figure just as youthful and sensual as the day she'd been married, in spite of the fact that she was now thirty-four and had a teenage daughter.

As she stretched she fluffed out her long lustrous hair, which had never been cut. Howard had been crazy about her hair. Like most men, that was the first thing he had noticed. But then, men also paid attention to her magnificently put together body as well. Curves no man could resist, she had been told.

Georgia smiled softly to herself as she considered all this. Taking both of her protuberant pink nipples between thumb and forefinger, she toyed with them until they stiffened in self-defense, imparting pleasant sensations into her swollen breasts and a corresponding tingle deep down in the center of her belly. She was not a wanton, but only a normal woman who had come to enjoy her husband's sexuality, and of late that sexuality had been somewhat lax. Consequently, every morning she seemed to wake up more aroused than the morning before.

Not that Howard noticed. Indeed, he didn't seem to notice anything much lately except his business affairs. His company had put together a hefty real estate package recently on the west side of the Chicago River only to have it come out in the newspapers that instead of developing the area as they had promised the original owners, the City of Chicago, the land was being re-sold at a tremendous profit to the federal government for an office complex. Consequently his entire organization seemed currently to be in a constant state of upheaval and anxiety over what new charges would arrive with each new day and – in particular – what citizens' lawsuits were in the offing. The prospect was grim. And her Howard had been one of the original prime movers who had clinched the deal through connections at City Hall. His handsome head would be on the block if the public got too noisy.

Georgia patted her breasts and then pushed her hands up in back of her lengthy hair, and let it fall again. Her pretty head couldn't really get much interested in men's affairs. All she knew was that Howard just wasn't performing in bed as usual.

As yet she hadn't made her mind up what to do about it, however. She kept expecting him to break out of the doldrums at any moment.

"Georgia, have you seen my cufflinks?" came a cross voice from the bathroom, and then her husband was standing in the doorway, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt, his shock of wavy black hair falling forward over his forehead. He was clad only in his underwear and the shirt, and her eyes locked unavoidably on the spot where his genitals nestled between his legs, but disappointingly, there was no special bulge there to excite her.

"But you've got so many," she started to say.

"I mean the ones with the footballs on them. I can't wear jewelry any more. Orders around the office. Too many newspaper reporters coming through all the time. The boss has given up his diamond rings even. No more small pinkies. Imagine. He won't be able to show his face in City Hall."

Georgia laughed and tried to help him by looking around the bedroom a little bit, but she couldn't seem to locate the cufflinks he was referring to. Finally he changed to a button-cuff shirt and went back in the bathroom, and Georgia slipped a housecoat over her glowing body and went downstairs to start breakfast.

Karen, their thirteen year old platinum blonde daughter, was already humming and singing in the shower. Georgia smiled to herself and made her way down the stairs. Karen was certainly getting to be a beautiful girl. They would have to get together for a long mother-and-daughter chat very soon!

Going to the refrigerator, Georgia began in an orderly fashion to organize breakfast for the family. She kept her housecoat carefully closed when she caught sight of the milkman coming around, and then relaxed again. Really, though, she was the sort of woman who preferred to give her unusually well developed body free rein in its movements. She hated constricting clothing – except, of course, when it attracted attentive and appreciative male glances, and the housecoat normally fell open quite a lot in the ordinary course of things as she moved about her cozy kitchen.

Georgia had started the bacon and put out the pan for the eggs, and was setting out the plates and silverware and so on when she heard the scratching at the screen door.

What on earth…?

Drawing her dressing gown tightly about her waist, she went to the back door and peered outside, but couldn't see a thing unusual there. The small public park looked typically quiet for this time of morning, where it sat somnolently behind their house. There was absolutely no one about.

And then came that scratching again, like a cat at the screen door. It really gave her a start of an almost sensual nature, like someone drawing chalk the wrong way up the blackboard of her spine. She opened the door and looked down through the screening.

Well, this was a handsome animal! A big, shaggy German shepherd without any apparent collar or identification was looking up at her with big mournful eyes. His coat was so rough that there was the distinct impression that he had recently been in a fight. His hair was very shaggy and dirty and seemed to go in every direction. His mouth opened slightly and Georgia glimpsed a fullish red tongue.

"Well, and where have you come from, lamb? My, don't you look hungry. Wait right there and Mama will bring you something." The young wife let the door swing shut behind her and returned to the refrigerator to rummage around for some leftover meat or something. There was a lamb bone there from Sunday dinner with plenty of meat still on it, and also some freshly ground beef. She decided that old lamb was a wiser investment, and also poured for the hungry-looking animal a bowl of milk.

Returning to the back door, Georgia found the German shepherd sitting well back from it and down the steps. Well, he certainly seemed well behaved and well trained, she thought as she opened both doors and went down the steps.

A breeze came up and wafted slightly about her tall, elegantly torsoed body, causing her housecoat to open a little. Her full-fleshed breasts juggled upward and seemed to spill out from the open material, and strangely, the dog's big brown eyes fastened on their gleaming whiteness, and he totally ignored the food. Georgia blushed instinctively and tried to hold her housecoat more snugly to her body with one elbow where bending over to put the dishes down on the colored concrete blocks of the patio. This was far from easy with two dishes in her hands, but her cleavage was so considerable that she felt she had to do something. The dog was just a dog, but she couldn't just let everything spill out for all of the neighbors to see.

Though the German shepherd's eyes burned on what he glimpsed of her milk-white smooth flesh, he didn't move from his spot. And seconds later he had bent his head and was lapping at the milk. Then he took the lamb bone in his paws and proceeded to rip the meat off of it quite determinedly with his powerful jaws.

Georgia was somewhat taken aback by the ferociousness with which the stray attacked the meat, but in a way she found it sort of fascinating. The dog appeared to be more wolf than canine, and that's the way she found herself thinking of him – Wolf. When his eyes glanced up at her momentarily, she was quiet stunned by the intensity of their gaze. They seemed to bore right through her. An involuntary shiver passed through her exquisitely formed flesh and something flashed a message in her mind: This dog has the eyes of a dangerous man. Not dangerous in the sense of a physical threat, but dangerous sexually.

Georgia shivered again and turned around sharply, returning up the stairs into the kitchen. She closed the screen door and the back door thoughtfully behind her, and then peered back through the curtain at her big, powerful canine guest to where he was crunching the lamb bone in his wicked-looking teeth. His strange dark eyes seemed to glare at her, and after the recent frustration she had suffered in her marriage bed, this sort of weird carnal stimulation worked on her loins like a tonic. She felt trembly as a school girl going through her first wild flirtation. But that was ridiculous!

"Morning, Mom!"

Georgia started as her platinum-tressed daughter suddenly appeared to plant a warm wet kiss on her cheek. She touched Karen slightly and blinked. Their pretty thirteen year old was as fresh as ever. Karen was one of those girls who always appeared clean and scrubbed in every situation. Part of this could be ascribed to her natural platinum blonde hair, which hung all the way down her back with the consistency of fine wire. Georgia and Howard had never been able to figure out where it came from, as no one in either of their families was blonde, although there was a tinge of Norwegian blood on Georgia's side. North Norwegian, where platinum blondes were supposed to abound.

Karen also dressed very neatly, too, changing frequently, truly one of those children a parent never had to worry might go hippy. She had been a perfect baby, and ever since then a perfect little lady. And now she had every appearance of becoming a perfect teenager. In the last year she had suddenly sprouted up quite tall for her age, and developed small but well-rounded breasts. Indeed Karen was perfectly proportioned in every way for a girl her age, and then some, with enticing young breasts, a tiny waist and flat, flat tummy, and long sleek slender – but well-turned – legs which seemed to retain their tan longer than most girls' did. Added to this was her long Jean Harlow-like hair but a prettier oval face than Harlow had ever aspired to, with pert little upturned nose, bright blue eyes, and a small but sultry mouth. Yes, their little girl was a real princess.

"Morning, dear. Will you watch the bacon while I do the eggs?"

"Sure!"

Karen went gaily to work with a real enthusiasm, as she did everything. Georgia sighed with parental satisfaction, watching her. Every parent should be so lucky. With a fine helper like Karen, one was never at a loss.

Nor was there ever any trouble with boys, either. Despite the fact that Karen was developing faster than most girls her age, she did not seem to be preoccupied with boys the way most prematurely developed girls were, but seemed to take everything sweetly in her stride. So much so that occasionally Georgia found herself wondering if Karen thought about sex at all, and if so in what way. They had discussed it briefly, and Georgia knew that her daughter knew where babies came from. But at this pubescent age, girls' ideas about sex changed so rapidly, and they learned to become secretive about their real thoughts – Georgia could remember from her own school days – and, it was difficult to tell what they were thinking, if anything at all.

But she had to be thinking something about sex. It would be abnormal, at her age, and given her development, if she weren't.

Just then Karen glanced out the kitchen window and noticed the dog on the patio, munching on the bone from the lamb roast of two days previous. "Oh, Mother," she exclaimed, "whose dog is that?"

Georgia winced and smiled just a trace self-consciously. "Oh, just a stray. He came scratching up at the door and I gave him a bone and a bowl of milk. Scruffy looking thing, isn't he? It was the only way I could get rid of him."

Karen continued standing at the back door, studying the large shaggy brute. "Oh, but he is a big dog, isn't he, Mother? He looks positively dangerous." An involuntary shiver broke through her pubescent young flesh. She had never seen an animal of such majestic proportions – or one so dirty, wandering the streets on the loose. Once when she was younger – or perhaps several times – the family had been to the Lincoln Park Zoo, and seen the timber wolves kept caged up there. But this animal could put any of them to shame. He had a large, leonine head with dangerous, evil-looking eyes and devilish pointy ears that rose up very high and peaked above his massive skull. His body, even where he lay on the colored concrete, could be seen to be thickly muscle and powerful. His teeth, as he ripped the lamb flesh from its bone, were patently those of a trained and vicious watchdog, and Karen could not repress a small ripple of excitement as she watched him. A dog like that looked so brutish and untamable it was difficult to imagine him ever wearing a collar. He was at once malevolent and yet attractive like a dangerous and powerful man.

"Come on, dear," Georgia said just a trace more peevishly than she realized. "You've got to help me with breakfast. Your father will be down any minute."

Karen smiled silkenly to herself. There was something very masculine about the big brute in their yard. It wouldn't have been possible for him to have been a female. Having so recently become a full-blown physically matured female herself, the attraction was instantaneous. Not that she would ever have dreamed of consummating her vaguely aroused interest, of course. Her mind could scarcely have conceived of sex between a dog and a human girl, indeed she had the utmost difficulty imagining it between herself and a human boy! But nonetheless she could feel the magnetic pull between her eyes and those of the beast working so malevolently over his lamb bone. That was instinct. It did not require translation into physical action, only the understanding that it, the magnetism, existed. She knew instinctively that she would have loved to have an imperial animal like that around all the time, psychologically; sex didn't enter into it.

"Boy, he's a big dog, isn't he, Mother?" she said, leaving the window. "Are we going to keep him? He looks like a good watchdog."

"Yes, and there'll probably be a reward out for him in the newspaper, too. You can't just pick up dogs like that, Karen. They belong to people somewhere."

Karen sniffed haughtily. "It certainly doesn't look as if the people he belonged to cared for him much, though. He's just filthy. We really should clean him up a bit."

"We'll see. Now, hurry. Your father's coming."

Howard Rogers did show up several moments later, picking up his paper from the sideboard in the dining room and stepping silently into the kitchen. He took his usual chair at the kitchen table, ruffling his newspaper with appropriate seriousness. Karen came around and gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek, but he struggled to appear indifferent and concentrated on his newspaper.

In actual fact, however, his penis jerked in his pants and the tiniest spot of cum oozed from the small slit in the top when he caught the scent of his young daughter's loins and felt her peach-soft cheeks rub against his recently shaved jaw. He sat there, trying all the while to appear casual, but his cock starting to swell and the tiny wet circle darkening his trousers made him decidedly uncomfortable. He didn't want to be too obvious, however, and struggled with all his will power not to shift in his seat.

But how was he to keep from glancing occasionally at his breathtaking young daughter's ripely developing breasts where they bounced from beneath the snug white sweater she wore? She had the body of a Goddess and as much as he tried not to, he found himself thinking more and more lately about fucking her during nights when he was fucking his equally beautiful wife. All that wealth of platinum blonde hair was something no man could resist thinking about. And now she was developing the body to match it. A girl of such pulchritude mixed with purity and virginity was every man's most earnest wet dream come true in the living flesh. He would have been a fool or a fox to pretend otherwise to himself… even if she was his own daughter.

"More coffee, dear?" Georgia asked sweetly as she poured.

"Mmmmmmmrrph."

Karen looked up at her father from under her long dark lashes. He was certainly an attractive man, she thought. She certainly hoped that some day she would fall in love and marry someone as nice as her father. Anyone like him would have to be all right.

And it would be even better if the youth was hung like her father, too. For while she was a decent and well-brought-up girl, the fact remained that several times while she was growing up she had glimpsed her father's genitals and the sight had remained imprinted in her mind with a force all its own. She knew from vague things she had heard among other girls at school and elsewhere that large organs in a man were supposed to make him sexually exciting for a girl.

Indeed, she had even caught herself dreaming at night occasionally of what she had glimpsed on those rare occasions when she had caught sight of her father's penis, rather thick and hanging down between his legs like a large, dangerous sword as he lathered himself to shave in the bathroom, or casually entered the bathtub. And then, of course, she couldn't help but wonder…

There was a soft mewling from outside the back door, and Karen abruptly remembered the big German shepherd her mother had given the food to. Corresponding with her vaguely illicit thoughts regarding her father, she found herself then wondering about this dog as well.

Just how were dogs "hung" anyway? So far as she had ever noticed, they didn't seem to have their penises hanging around loose the way men did. Surely they couldn't have very much, then, the way it was all so hidden.

There was the mewling and scratching again. "Now, what the hell is that?" Howard asked crossly, banging down his newspaper.

Georgia got up and went to the back door. "Oh, it's just an old dog that came to the door, dear. I gave him something to eat." She opened the two doors and looked down at the husky, panting animal. My, she thought, he is a brute, isn't he?

"Looks like he's still hungry, Mother," said Karen.

"I'll take care of it, dear." Georgia went back to the refrigerator and unhesitatingly took out the pound of ground meat she had been saving for lunch, putting it on a nice plate for their handsome shaggy guest.

In the meantime Howard got up grumpily, finished off the last of his coffee and went into the hall to get his jacket. "I'll probably be home late tonight," he called back to them.

Georgia didn't appear to notice. She was busily opening the back door in order to set out the plate for their unkempt visitor. The rough-looking German shepherd glanced up at her, then quickly set to wolfing down the meat.

Karen got up to see her father to the front door, however. She followed him all the way, and then threw her arms around his neck as he opened the door, murmuring, "Oh, Daddy, have a nice day."

It was a fairly safe thrill to press her young full body against his in this way, as her mother couldn't see them. And even Howard let down his guard long enough to close his eyes and run his hands achingly across his teenage daughter's back. He could smell her deliciously fresh scent of youth, and feel all of her voluptuous long-legged slenderness pressing every other point on his body at once. She was warm silken cushions of sensuality and loveliness. Her curves were so warm and full in all the right areas… his head fairly swam and his cock began throbbing mightily.

And it was all so harmless. Only he himself knew, and Georgia couldn't see them. Karen, of course, was too innocent to realize how she affected him.

Or so he thought. Not realizing at all that his daughter understood very well what that hard, hot bulge was pressing upward between the snug juncture of her virginal thighs. She rubbed her pubic triangle shamelessly against his thigh, feeling herself becoming deliciously turned on from the massive feel of his leg frictioning her cuntal region. She hugged him more snugly, and kissed his soft cheek again, more wetly now, partly with a sigh…

Until finally he summoned up the strength to push her away from him, his penis pounding in his pants like a keg of gunpowder under an infrared lamp.

For a long moment father and daughter merely stood there staring at each other, unable to say anything, her eyes smokey and veiled. And then he whirled on his heel and pushed open the front door. In another moment he was down the steps and opening the door to their metallic bronze Cadillac.

Karen returned to the kitchen with her thoughts and loins in a turmoil. She had never come so sexually close to her father before. In that sudden moment of his departure before the front door, the pretty blonde thirteen year old seemed to have stepped up a step into an awkwardly different sort of world. Her burning young pussy was itching terribly around the desire-swollen lips, and she felt an intense urge to rub it with her middle finger till her belly exploded in fire. She moved her hips up and back as if to facilitate some sort of release against the flimsy nylon material of her panties, but this was no good. Finally, flipping her long platinum hair back over her shoulder, she sat down at the kitchen table and wagged her long tanned legs back and forth. This seemed to help a little bit, but not much.

"Your father go?" Georgia asked from the back door, where she was running her fingers through the thick fur at the base of the strange dog's neck.

"Y-Yes, Mother. Father's gone," she smiled prettily at her red-haired mother. "What shall we call him?"

"Call who, dear?"

"The dog, of course." Karen could feel the innervating sensuality her father had aroused slowly subside as she struggled to change the subject. Now there was just the vaguest warm wet feeling between her legs.

And on the back steps, Georgia felt suddenly silly standing there clucking and cooing over a mangy strange dog. But he was kind of cute, the way he pressed his head up against her legs – it felt so nice and cozy, somehow, all that cool, sleek fur. Occasionally he glanced up at her with those beautiful soft eyes of his and she got the most pleasant sensualizing shock from it. She didn't know quite what to make of him at all, but the fact that she and Howard hadn't had a really good fuck in a dog's age had something to do with it, she supposed.

What a curious phrase to think of: Dog's age…

"Well, I don't know," she said, "no doubt someone will be along to claim him after a bit…"

"Or he might just run off and leave us. But what about in the meantime, Mother? What should we call him in the meantime?"

"In the meantime?" Georgia looked down thoughtfully at the husky dog, which was so expertly wolfing down the hamburger she had set before him. Somehow a dog like this didn't seem suited to any name. He was more a beast of the wild, like a beast of the wild, like a wolf… That was it – they would call him that! She looked at her fresh-faced young daughter. "Why don't we just call him Wolf?" Georgia grinned at Karen sheepishly. "He seems to have a wolfish-type personality, don't you think?"

"Wolf!" Karen clapped her hands. "Why, that's grand, Mother! How ever did you think of it? It suits him to a T! I don't think I've ever heard of a dog named that before! Have you?"

"Why-uh, no…" Georgia looked down at the dog, which had by now glommed practically all of the hamburger and was again looking up at her with those strange eyes, so big and brown, like enormous dark pools filled with weird almost-human knowledge. Occasionally his fur brushed against her leg and she felt the most evanescent tremor of unexplainable excitement ripple through her overheated and frustrated loins.

She clutched her housecoat snugly around her tall, full-blown body. She had inadvertently set the plate down right on the top step to the kitchen door, and now couldn't close the door until the dog was finished eating, because his big muscular body was in the way. It was somewhat cool with the door open this way, and she could feel goose-pimples sprouting all over her shivering longish legs. The strangest feeling seemed to be crawling up her soft smooth flesh in the direction of her loins.

Trying to break out of her curious mood, she looked over at her thirteen year old daughter, saying as sharply as she could, "Look here, young lady, aren't you supposed to be getting ready for school?"

"Yes, ma'am," Karen looked down, and then swelled with pride as she noticed all over again the way her budding breasts pushed out the front of her tight white sweater. She had of late become so proud of her breasts that she incessantly tried to display them in every way possible, perhaps hoping secretly that some naughty boy would find a way to take advantage of her. But now she just tried to look humble under her mother's scolding.

"Well, then, let's get going. We can discuss our guest later – if he's still around. When you come home from school. In the meantime, young lady, a bit of breakfast is in order, I'd say."

After Karen left for school, Georgia was at last able to relax with a sigh and a cigarette on the four-seater couch in the living room. Her housecoat full open to reveal her long, milky smooth legs all the way up to the fluffy red curls growing around the soft furrow between her thighs. She could afford this state of abandon now that everyone was gone. Ordinarily Howard liked her to dress demurely and conservatively about the house, and, of course, she always tried to be a lady around her daughter. It was only when she was alone that she could really let her hair down and relax.

When she was alone. And she was increasingly that as Howard became more and more involved in the vicious exposes that were being printed about the way his company had handled that west bank land deal. He spent long hours at the office now, and when he came home he seemed to have small interest in sexual entertainment. She had always been a virtuous wife, but she was still, after all, a female, and she had gotten used to the lustful feel of a hotly throbbing penis sunk deep inside her hungry vagina from time to time. At Georgia's age, if Masters and Johnson were right, a woman was just coming into her most sensual period. A period when some of the former taboos inculcated by her parents had been dissolved, and when she had learned viscerally the value of a hard male member being driven upward into her churning belly. With age, a woman took taboos less seriously, although, of course, she continued to consider the threat of exposure and the need for discretion. One did not destroy a family – which was, after all, a business built up over a lifetime – merely for the sake of some fleeting sexual satisfaction and its attendant relaxation.

On the other hand, if she had wanted to have an affair she wouldn't have known where to begin. Oh, numerous of Howard's "friends" had made the usual overtures, but there was still nonetheless the omnipresent problem of discretion. She wouldn't have undercut her life with Howard for anything. Theirs had been a childhood romance which had blossomed to fruition through high school and junior college. She genuinely loved Howard, and she would always love him, even if they never had sex again.

Still, there was this terrible need which seemed to be eating her pussy alive.

The tormented young redhead stubbed out the cigarette and gazed with drooping, dreamy eyelids toward the kitchen, wondering idly if the visiting dog were still there.

Dogs, she thought. Now, dogs didn't have any such problems. They took sex as they felt like it, without incurring any social problems. They didn't mate for life, the way people did.

Georgia found herself wondering how that strange dog made out with his sex life, being so obviously on the loose, and probably on the run as well. Was it easy for him to meet accommodating female dogs in his wanderings?

And why, come to think of it, did she continue referring to "it" as a male? For all she knew, the dog might be female. She hadn't really glimpsed any sex equipment. Not that she was quite sure what to look for. She had seen a few dogs fornicating in public parks and other places in her life, but had never paid much attention. And as for dogs at rest, well, she supposed that the ones with pointy little furry protrusions under their bellies were male. Otherwise she couldn't remember much of anything.

But now her latent curiosity was aroused. It might pass an otherwise dull day to find out just what the dog sex situation was for sure, and Karen had suggested that she give the dog a bath, hadn't she? Or had Georgia thought of that originally by herself? Now she wasn't quite sure.

Like most people, male or female, Georgia had a natural lurid curiosity which she would be happy to satisfy if she weren't caught at it, a totally natural and deep-seated interest in all things obscene – just because they were forbidden.

And now she was alone in the house, with the rest of the family not due back for many hours, and that strange, powerful-looking animal waiting out back. Waiting for her? Because she had fed him, of course. Probably waiting for more food. Well, there was no harm in that. That was acting from the standpoint of normal self-interest.

But she would definitely have to do something about cleaning up the filthy animal. She had promised that she would – although it didn't occur to her to question just who she had made this promise to.

Her dark eyes blinked prettily as she stubbed out another cigarette and got up, drawing her housecoat tightly about her voluptuous form. Yes, she would take him upstairs and give the poor beast a bath. That would be the best way she could think of to pass the morning. And it would give her something to do as she continued to try to think out her problems with her husband.