The wife's doggy position

CHAPTER THREE

Reaching under the boxer, Molly got a handful of his prick and began to stroke the fat rod. The dog's head was still lowered against her crotch, tonguing away. It felt wonderful, and she hated to make him stop. But in that position, she couldn't see his cock very well, and she couldn't aim his jism at her body. It had been a tremendous thrill to have the Doberman shoot on her belly and tits, and she wanted the boxer to spill his cum on her too. She figured that there would be time enough, afterward, to have one of the willing dogs give her pussy a thorough lapping, and to get her rocks off on a tongue. For the moment, the lust-crazed woman was more interested in making the boxer come than she was in coming, herself.

Molly pushed his head out of her soaking crotch.

The dog looked up, his jaws dripping with cuntjuice, puzzled that she had stopped him. But then her hand slid slowly up his prick. He gave a whimper and stood up on braced feet, quivering all over, realizing that he was being petted in the best possible place, one of those strange and mysterious pleasures that only creatures with hands could perform. Not knowing anything about human psychology, the boxer couldn't see what pleasure the woman got out of doing it with her hand, but he was certainly not going to bark about it.

Molly began stroking his steadily.

The blonde leaned closer, her lust-contorted face right in front of his big, bloated cockhead. She stroked him with one hand and fingered his flaring knob with the other. She was eager to see him shoot. Her tits and belly were already awash with dog cum. She wondered if she should aim the boxer's prick right in her face, and let him blow his wad there. It seemed naughtier than jerking him off on her tits and belly, somehow, but the thought of having a load of steaming dog jism hose her face was really exciting.

Molly thought that she might even open her mouth a little.

Maybe she would pull him off with her lips! Maybe she would ever stick her tongue out when the dog came!

She sometimes did that with her husband.

She liked to suck Jake off, and he loved to have her do it. But once in awhile, instead of taking his prick in her mouth and milking it, she would give him a handjob, with her mouth open and her tongue pressed out right above his cockhead. When he came, they could both see his creamy cum fly into her mouth. It always turned both of them on tremendously. And the thought of having an animal do that gave the horny girl a thrill that shattered her inhibitions like a high note breaking crystal. Was it any more wicked to have a dog come on her lips and tongue than to jack him off on her tits? Well, it seemed worse, but the urge was all the more compelling because of that, the charm of such depravity was melting her with lust.

Hardly aware of what she was doing, Molly had moved her face closer to his cockhead and parted her lips.

The swollen slab of his hot cockmeat looked inviting.

What did a dog's prick taste like?

No, she thought. No, that would be going too far! Jerking a dog off was just harmless pleasure, but actually taking his prick into her mouth would be really an act of depravity. How could she ever face her husband again, after she'd had a mouthful of dog prick? How could she ever let Jake kiss her? How could she even look at herself in the mirror, knowing her mouth had been on a canine cock?

Yet she was drooling for it.

His prick looked so succulent. His pricktip was already bubbling with pre-cum, all milky and foaming. A dark urge swept through the girl, the thrill rushing through her mind as much as her cunt, and her tongue felt as hot as her clit, as if she could have an orgasm in her mouth. Maybe if she just gave that sweet-looking cockhead a lick? Just a solitary lick? She intended to jack him off in her face, anyhow. Her lips would be parted, and some of that hot jism was going to get on her tongue when he shot, anyhow, so it couldn't be any worse to lick a few drops off his prickmeat, could it? She could satisfy her curiosity… it wouldn't be as if she had actually taken his cock into her mouth and given him a blowjob. She wouldn't swallow it.

And no one would ever know!

Well, the black Doberman would know, but there was no way that either of the dogs could ever tell anyone! That was one of the benefits of fooling around with dumb animals, Molly realized. No matter how carried away a girl got, no matter what she did, it would remain a secret between she and the animal. Unless… did dogs communicate? Would she find a whole pack of frenzied canines howling for blowjobs at her back door once the word was out? Yet, so hot was the woman, that even that idea was thrilling to her. The thought of a pack of horny dogs inspirational. She gave the boxer's cock another long, slow stroke.

The knob flared and bubbled.

Unable to resist the unholy impulse, Molly pushed her tongue out, and she gave the dripping tip of the boxer's cock a lick, lightly, uncertainly. She drew back, amazed at herself. Cum tingled on her tastebuds. The stuff was delicious!

She lapped his foaming knob again.

More jism poured onto her hot tongue. She let it run around in her mouth, then seep down her throat, warming her belly like fine brandy. Molly gave a little moan of pure, unadulterated lust. She began to lap the dog's hot cockhead with long, slurping strokes, her nimble tongue curling and coiling over the hot slab. Her fist continued to pump slowly up and down, causing the head to flare and throb against her flattened tongue and pursed lips.

Molly felt utterly depraved.

Even alone with the dogs, she was blushing furiously, deeply ashamed of her behavior, yet she was unable to resist, unable to stop. She just kept lapping away. She drew back once or twice, making an effort to stop, to finish him off with her hand. But then her tongue tingled, and the girl leaned right back down to lick him some more.

The boxer and the Doberman looked at each other in amazement.

Neither of them had ever realized that humans used their tongues in such a delightful way. Although both of them had licked their own pricks from time to time, it wasn't at all the same thing, and neither of them had ever met, a bitch willing to lap then to climax. The Doberman hoped that the woman would not lose her appetite before she had given his cock a nice tonguing, too, and the boxer hoped she did not lose interest before he shot his wad.

But Molly was not about to lose interest.

The more she tongued his tasty cockhead, the more hungry she became, the more eager for his cum.

His pre-cum was flowing freely now.

Molly was lapping up plenty of the succulent jism, and those first trickles were playing the appetizer, making her voraciously hungry for more of the sweet stuff. There was no longer any doubt that she was going to let the boxer come in her mouth. If she couldn't face herself in the mirror, afterwards, well that was a bridge she would cross when she came to it. At the moment, Molly cared only about the long, fat bridge that spanned the distance between her busily lapping tongue and the dog's swollen balls.

She kissed the tip of his cock.

Molly thought that maybe she should take his cockhead into her mouth, after all. Since she was already licking his prick, it couldn't be any more wicked to suck it, she reasoned. The prospect was making her shudder and vibrate all through her body. The boxer was whimpering and rumbling deep in his throat, his haunches squirming, his chest heaving as she panted with wild desire. His obvious sexual arousal was making Molly even hornier.

The blonde fitted her pursed lips to the tip of his cock.

She kissed the bubbling knob, then very slowly let her lips part around it, feeding that slab of burning dog meat into her hungry mouth inch by inch. The cockhead slipped in.

Her lips collared his prickshaft just behind the flaring head.

She sucked softly, her cheeks hollowing in and her lips turning out as they pulled gently on his cockmeat. Her hand slowled, still stroking, but moving very gently now. She nursed lovingly on his mouthful of dripping cockhead.

I'm blowing a dog, Molly thought.

I'm sucking a dog's prick… and I'm going to keep on sucking until he shoots in my mouth!

Molly felt absolutely wicked, delightfully wicked! The blonde knew that she was doing an utterly depraved and perverted thing, and it thrilled her all the more because of that knowledge. She was yearning for the brute's climax, eager to feel his hot jism squirt into her mouth and pour down her throat. His prick was harder and hotter than any human cock she had ever mouthed, and the dog's desire was more frantic.

She certainly saw what Carla had meant about doing it with dogs.

The girl began to jolt her head up and down, taking more of his cock into her head, while her fist skimmed up and down his prickshaft, fucking him into her mouth. Her hand pushed down to his root, then slid back up and bumped gently against her lips.

Starved for his thick load, Molly jacked him faster and sucked for all she was worth.

Saliva coated his cockhead.

Thick ribbons of dog jism ran through the frothy saliva.

She was sucking so hard now that she seemed to be trying to inhale his cock right down into her heaving lungs, and his cockhead was pulsing in and out as if it were a lung, itself.

The boxer humped, fucking into her face.

Suddenly, his cum splashed in her throat.

A steaming rope of jism jetted from his knob, filling her mouth. She gulped it down hungrily, swallowing to make room for more. His load was too much for her, greedy as she was. Cum overflowed her lips and ran down her chin, down his hairy cock. She kept sucking with pure hunger, and great, creamy ribbons of sweet cum poured over her tongue, slid through her cheeks, washed about her teeth and gums. It was flooding down her throat. She drank his jism joyfully, whimpering and gasping. She was demented by desire, crazed by carnal lust, swallowing and sucking, sucking and swallowing. The dog's balls seemed to hold a raging river of cum, an ocean of the molten lava of his loins. Her fist sped up and down, milking him. Her lips pulled and dragged on his cockhead, and her tongue fluttered wildly against the dripping wedge of dog meat. Her throat pulsed as she gulped the juice down greedily.

At long last, he stopped coming.

He stood there, trembling all over, stiff-legged, his flanks heaving in and out.

Molly continued to jack and suck.

She milked every last drop out of his cock and balls, and when she finally drew her lips away, his cockhead was glistening, polished to a luster. A few drops had escaped her mouth and trickled down his hairy stalk. Molly used her soaking tongue to gather them up, not wanting to waste a single drop.

The dog staggered as he stepped away.

Molly sat there in a daze.

What had she done? How could she have done such a thing?

It was all Carla's fault!

If that terrible girl had not gotten Molly so horny, telling her about fucking dogs, it never would have dawned on Molly to do such a terrible thing. Blaming Carla, she excused herself.

She vowed that she would never do a thing again.

But even as she made that vow, the black Doberman was advancing toward her, his prick as stiff as ever, and a hopeful, expectant look in his big brown eyes.

"No! Go away!" she said.

The dog blinked. He looked crestfallen. The boxer seemed to be grinning, laughing at the poor Doberman, who had only had a handjob instead of a blowjob.

The Doberman whimpered pitifully.

It didn't seem fair that he had to do without, thought Molly.

Molly had always been kind to animals.

The Doberman obviously expected what the boxer had had.

Molly took pity on him.

Her vow still held, however. Molly was determined that she would never blow a dog again, after today.

After she sucked off the Doberman…