The wife's doggy position

CHAPTER TEN

Molly had heard the sounds of their fucking from the outer office, and halted, frowning, puzzled. Those sounds were unmistakable… and would have been even if she had not heard the woman defining the act, over and over, with that one descriptive command.

Who was fucking in Jake's office?

Where was Jake?

Molly had always trusted her husband. It took a few moments for the horrible thought that perhaps it was Jake who was involved in that fucking to sink in. She stood there, dazed, rooted to the spot. She was tempted to turn around and walk back out. She didn't want to know the truth! But something drew her toward the door. Not wanting to know, the trembling blonde nevertheless felt compelled to find out.

She moved to the inner door and looked in. She had arrived just as Jake got into the finishing strokes. Molly was stunned. Her eyes popped out, her mouth dropped open and she gave a quiet gasp of shock. She felt a flush of heat, followed by a grip of icy cold.

She saw his fat prick vanish up Gloria's flame-haired fuck hole, then pull back out, slathered with cuntjuice.

Her husband's prick!

Her prick! The cock for which she had come, yearning, only to find it servicing another woman's cunt!

She noticed how juicy that pussy looked, too, steaming, the clit exploding like a percussion cap.

Now Jake was emptying his cock and balls into her, and the redhead was wailing as she came with him.

Unable to stand anymore, Molly moved away from the door. She was so numbed by shock that she didn't know what emotions she felt. The blonde shook her head, trying to clear it. She was angry, of course. But she was embarrassed, too. It made her feel inadequate that her husband would have another woman, made her wonder if she was not enough for him. How long has it been going on? And why was it going on? Was it her fault or was he simply an unfaithful swine? And what should she do about it? She didn't have the nerve nor the will to confront him in the act. She knew that her voice would break, that she would blush as much as if she were the guilty party. She would have to think long and hard about the situation, before deciding whether to tell him she knew about his affair, or simply to ignore that terrible knowledge and hope that the affair was not serious.

Molly went back into the corridor.

Her cheeks were flaming.

Then a strange thought came to her; she was glad that she had been sucking and fucking with dogs! She had been deeply ashamed of that, before she discovered her husband's infidelity. Now it seemed justified, as if she had taken her revenge on him even before she knew there was a sin to be avenged.

It served the bastard right to be cuckolded by a boxer!

And as she remembered the dogs, she remembered, too, what had motivated her uncharacteristic behavior.

Carla!

Carla was the sort of woman with whom she could talk freely, in whom she could confide! Carla was worldly. She would be able to advise Molly how to respond to Jake's adultery. Molly felt an urge to talk to Carla, to tell her all about this and even, in a strange way, to confess about her own affair with the two canines. She had intended to keep quiet about that, never to tell a soul. Now that her husband was cheating on her, she felt the urge to let someone… Carla… know that she was not so faithful, herself. She still thought that fucking and blowing dogs were things to be ashamed of, and knew she would blush furiously when she admitted it. But her deep shame only added to the bizarre thrill of confession, the desire to admit her degradation to another woman. Carla, a devout dog-fucker, herself, would hardly blame Molly. They would probably have a good giggle over it, over the funny way that Molly had gotten even with Jake even before she knew he had sinned.

But would Carla be home?

She had most likely gotten picked up by that man in the cocktail lounge. But would it have been a fast fuck in a hotel, or might she have brought him home with her? Molly didn't want to interrupt if Carla was having it off with the guy… and she most certainly wasn't going to confess about her doggy adventure in front of a strange man.

Well, she would drive over to Carla's, anyhow.

If Carla was busy, she wouldn't stay.

Molly, desperate to confide in someone and to seek her advice, went back down to the car, hoping that Carla wasn't busy.

Carla wasn't busy.

She was, however, horny.

Carla had suffered the misfortune of having sex with not one, but two, premature ejaculators in the same day.

The first had been Sam, in the hotel.

And the second had been a fucking dog!

Wasn't that just her rotten luck?

After Carla had left limp-pricked Sam, she had gone directly home, hoping to find the collie prowling about her backyard, but when she got there she found no sign of the big brute… not even any dog shit. Waves of frustration washed over her. Christ, did she have to fingerfuck herself again? That did no good. A handjob only served to make her juicier, to make her crave the real thing all the more. But the collie was not around, and she couldn't think of a man that she might phone at that hour, to request a servicing.

Carla had no steady boyfriends since her divorce. She preferred to play the field, enjoying a variety of bed partners, rather than to get involved with a single man. But at the moment, that was working against her. Where could she find a prick? Did she have to go back out and get picked up again? She hated the thought, preferring to stay home and have a cock fetched to her.

But where and who?

She considered sending herself a telegram and seducing the boy who delivered it.

But sight unseen, that was chancy.

She didn't give a damn how old the lad was or what he looked like, but what if he happened to have a tiny prick?

The same drawback held true for ordering flowers or calling a television repairman.

What about the dog pound, though?

Her green eyes widened and sparked at the idea. There must be plenty of stray dogs there, available for adoption to a good, dog-loving home, and Carla would be able to look them over and select the one with the biggest, nicest cock and balls. That lucky doggy was going to have the sort of home that stray dogs dream about! And it would serve the collie right, too, for not being around when she needed him! She was positively enchanted by the thought of standing there, with dogs in cages all around her, a whole slew of pricks waiting for a home! She might just cream right there in the kennels, she thought, the cuntjuice would just run down her legs!

But then she groaned, remembering something that she had heard about the process of dog adoption.

You weren't allowed to simply pay for a license and take the dog away with you. There was bureaucratic bullshit involved. You had to wait until the dog had gotten his shots before they would release him to you. Carla hated red tape. She was perfectly willing to take a chance on distemper or, hot as she was, maybe even rabies, but she was not willing to wait to get her cunt full of prick.

Damn! It had seemed such a good idea, too!

She was pacing nervously back and forth across the living room, very much aware of her smoldering pussy as her thighs rubbed together around it. The pit of her groin was squishing with every slow stride. The juice tickled as it oozed out.

Then her pacing took her to the window.

And gazing out, Carla saw a strange dog in the yard! It wasn't a large dog, sad to say.

But it looked frisky and vigorous. It was a mongrel, she thought, some sort of cross-bred terrier, perhaps. Carla considered, wishing it were a Great Dane or a wolfhound, but she was in no condition to look a gift dog in the mouth.

Carla decided to give it a try.

She hurried to the kitchen and got a hunk of hamburger from the refrigerator, then rushed to the back door. The dog looked up, startled and ready to bolt, when she opened the door.

"Here, doggy… nice doggy," she called, holding a handful of hamburger out.

The mongrel seemed uncertain and hesitant. It took a step toward her, but then it stepped back again. She thought that maybe it wasn't hungry. It didn't look thin… and it had no idea, of course, what other treats Carla had in store for it. It annoyed her that the dog didn't act eager, but she tried not to show her feelings. It would annoy her more if, sensing that she was annoyed, the mongrel ran off. She forced a smile and called again in a friendly voice.

The dog began approaching her, wriggling all over, his head lowered and his haunches raised and squirming. It did seem to have some terrier blood in it, Carla thought, as it came closer. It had those wedge-shaped jaws and broad chest. It was a speckle-colored creature, tan and grey and beige, the various hues all mixed up so that the markings had no definition. It looked, she thought, as if it had been pushed together out of drab modeling clay. Still, it would do in a pinch. Carla hunker ed own, holding the meat out, smiling.

The dog came up warily.

It took the hamburger, wolfing it down.

Carla moved back, urging the dog to follow. "Good doggy. Treats for doggies."

After a moment, wriggling all over, the mongrel followed her into the house. When she closed the door, the dog looked startled and peered around for an escape route. Carla hunkered down again and held her hand out. The dog sniffed, then licked her hand. She stroked it behind the ears and under the throat. Losing its timidness, it began to tremble with the pleasure of her caresses.

Carla took the dog into the living room.

She sat on the couch, and when she patted the cushion beside her, the dog hopped up, then curled onto his side. Carla looked under his belly, at his prick. She raised her eyebrows. The dog didn't have a hard-on and it was hard to judge the size of his cock. She reached down and began to play with his balls.

The dog snapped rigid, looking surprised.

Then he began to whine.

Carla slid her hand up and down his hairy sheath, and his pink pricktip came sliding out. She rubbed her thumb against the sensitive underside of his elongated cockhead, then skimmed her hand up and down the shaft, and the mongrel's cock hardened and lengthened.

It was no collie prick, to be sure, but it was certainly big enough to fuck her with.

But Carla had never fucked with such a small dog before, and she wondered how she should go about it? He had short, bowed legs. She didn't think he would be able to manage to mount her in the doggy position, even if she lowered her ass right down as far as she could. Nor was he long enough to mount her as she sat on the edge of the couch, with his hindfeet on the floor. She continued to play with his prick while she considered other positions and, in the end, she decided that there was nothing for it but to use the dog as if he were a dildo or a vibrator. She could hold him between her legs while he humped her.

By this time, the mongrel's cock was pounding away like a jackhammer, and his balls were swollen. Carla stood up to take her panties off. The dog whimpered as she abandoned his prick. She doubted that he had ever fucked with a woman before be cause he seemed confused, but she knew he would fuck her with gusto, once his cock was up her cunt and he got the idea.

She tugged her soaking panties down.

The mongrel sniffed and whined.

She drew her skirt up above her waist, then sat down again. The dog was sitting up on his haunches now, his flanks going in and out like a furry bellows as he panted, his tongue hanging out from the corner of his triangular jaw.

It looked like a very efficient tongue.

Carla lifted him, and she placed him between her legs. He might not have ever encountered a human pussy before, but the mongrel obviously knew what a hot cunt was. He dipped his snout down and began to lap merrily away at her flooded pussy.

Carla purred, her hips working like pistons.

The dog's tongue was delving right up inside her fuck hole, lapping her juicy inner cunt lips, then slurping across her turbulent clit as it trembled out the top of her pussy crack.

The brunette was tempted to keep him lapping away until her pussy creamed. But she was really more in the mood for prick than tongue, at the moment, and Carla reasoned that she would enjoy getting fucked far more while she was still in a state of sexual desperation, before she had a climax on his tongue.

The mongrel seemed to be trying to push his blunt muzzle right up inside her as he tongued away. His cold nose sent electric pulsations running through her clit. She knew that she would have a lovely orgasm, the moment the sturdy little brute began to slide his prick in and out of her cunt. She was reluctant to drag him away from the feast he seemed to be enjoying so greatly, but it was all in a good cause. She let him give her a last, parting slurp, then lifted him.

The dog cocked his head.

His tongue lolled out, the pink surface slathered with rivulets of cuntjuice and saliva.

Carla placed his hindfeet on the couch, between her widespread thighs. Holding him by the haunches with one hand, she took his cock in her other hand and moved it into her crotch. It wasn't long enough to really stuff her, she knew, but it would zip in and out vigorously, running across her tingling clit, making her come. Then it would squirt a lovely load of hot jism up her melting pussy.

She moved his cockhead up and down against her clit for a second, before she guided it into her fuck hole.

And the dog shot his load!

Hot cum came spurting out of his cockhead and skimmed through her pubic thicket, slid up her belly and splashed into the cleavage between her tits. A slimy river ran right up into the hollow of her throat. A jet soaked one stiff nipple. Carla had stopped stroking the mongrel's cockmeat, but once his orgasm had begun, it kept right on going off, dose after dose of dog juice washing her belly and tits.

Then he stopped shooting.

For a moment, his prick remained rigid.

Then, to Carla's horror; his cock began to diminish and soften and retreat back into his loins.

"Oh, no!" she gasped.

A human premature ejaculator was bad enough… but a dog?

In desperation, she stroked and fondled his prick, fingering the rubbery knob and stroking up the stalk.

It did no good at all.

The mongrel's cockmeat retracted into his belly and the hairy sheath pushed up to cover the head and, despite her fondling, there was no tension left at all. His prick had gone completely slack and his balls had collapsed into an empty bag.

The dog looked sheepish.

Just like Sam had done.

Carla stared at him in burning frustration, looking down the slope of her arched body. She was coated with cum from the vee of her crotch, up through her cleavage, and over her throat. It had been a good load, hot and creamy and abundant, just the sort of load that she had wanted hosing her cunt.

And it had been wasted.

She wondered if she could make him hard again if she licked his cock.

But there was nothing to lick.

The soft, hairy sheath had completely hidden the knob now. Leaning down, she blew on his cock and balls. It was pointless. Only a thin nubbin of hairy rod remained.

Carla sighed with dismay.

Well, she thought, at least the dumb dog isn't as bad as that fucking Sam. At least he likes to lick pussy. She had to get her rocks off somehow. And if the mongrel wasn't capable of a renewed erection, he would simply have to do the job with his tongue.

She pushed the dog's head against her pussy.

She waited, trembling.

Nothing happened.

The dog was more like Sam than she had figured. When his cock was stiff and his balls were full of cum, he had enjoyed a snack on her tasty cunt. But now that he had been drained and gone soft, the mongrel had no interest in lapping a cunt.

Carla wailed in despair.

She grasped the mongrel by the neck and moved his muzzle around in her creamy cunt.

"Lap, damn you!" she cried. "Lick it!"

But he kept his jaws clenched and his tongue refused to come out, and Carla realized, to her sorrow, that she was not going to get an orgasm out of either end of the dumb animal.

After awhile, she gave up and released the brute.

He hopped down from the couch and trotted over to the door, his tail between his legs, as if he knew that he had somehow failed in this meeting between the species, yet not having the heart to perform now that his balls had been emptied. He stood at the door, waiting. Carla sighed and got up, her pussy simmering and steaming. She guessed she might as well let the stupid mutt out. It was just her luck that the fucking useless brute would shit on the carpet.

When she opened the door, the dog trotted out, never looking back as he bolted across the backyard, then disappeared. Carla shook her head. Wasn't that just like a male?

And now what was she going to do?

Where was that collie? Where was anyone? Carla was in such a state by this time that she couldn't even go out to a bar and get picked up. She was afraid that she would just cream her panties. Although she was never a modest sort of girl, she knew it would be mortifying to be sitting on a bar stool and suddenly start to pant and whimper and have everyone see pussy juice running down her legs.

Carla guessed she would have to fingerfuck herself a few times to take the pressure off. She hated the idea of a solitary orgasm, but she saw no other solution.

Then Molly drove up.