"Dog Lover_s Diary" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kepple Horst)

Chapter 4 "Girl's Best Friend"

September 17, 1970

Dear Diary: Sweet sixteen! Thought I'd never make it, but here I am. I have to thank Tara for it too. "Tara" is the name Jane Hawser's taken; it came to her on a boss D.M.T. trip. She's about the hippest girl at Langousta High.

Merrilee's now going out with… and going down on… white boys and having the time of her life. All it took was a little nudge in the right direction. Oh, also, she got a dog of her own… a monster German Shepherd, all glands and hormones, a real lover-boy.

And speaking about boys… Tara told me what she thought my trouble was. Yes, fear of boys. She psychoanalysed me and figured it all out.

She said I was avoiding the problem by doing it with dogs, that basically, I was scared of making honest, human contact. I said she was wrong, that I just didn't like playing all the cutesy games we girls were supposed to play before we got some of the old porker. She said that was a "rationalisation."

I guess what made me come around to her way of thinking was all the hassle Mom was putting me through. She figured that if the guys weren't pounding on the front door with their tongues hanging out at all hours of the day and night, I was a social failure. Mom couldn't stand the idea of me being something like that.

Oh, it wasn't that I didn't get lots of offers… in front of my locket', on the gym field, in the auditorium… or that guys didn't follow me around. Jeez! A girl can't grow some tits and fill out on the bottom without some goons making a big deal over it. Not that I didn't like my new attributes, but some of the creeps I caught sniffing my bicycle seat! God! Take that gross Harold Himmler, for instance. Thinks he is absolute primo-grade shit. His dad is a big real estate broker, handles the new development over by the creek, lots of money. He is the big athlete, all 280 pounds of him. Super Jock! Looks like a cube, Neanderthal skull, shaves his head down to this stupid eighth inch Marine regulation length. Walks around school growling at everybody.

Anyway, he decided that I was going to be his girlfriend. Just like that. "Me, Throwback, you, Polly."

I would've done something really dumb, like spit in his ugly face, if it hadn't been for Tara. She really straightened me out.

"How're we gonna get to be cheerleaders, if you go spitting on the team's star line-backer?" she asked.

This was the first time she'd ever mentioned cheerleaders.

"Sure, Polly. It's the American Dream. Every girl wants to be a cheerleader. It comes with the muff…"

Hey, well at first I thought she was putting me on, that she'd had a micro-dot for lunch and she was just tripping. I was wrong… she was dead serious.

"Look, Polly, you wanna be a model, right?" she said. "And we both know you got what it takes, looks-wise, but that isn't enough. You got to learn how to handle men. They're not much different than dogs, very dumb dogs. It's men who're gonna try and get control of you, who're gonna want to run your life. You have to get on top and stay there."

Tara's bloodshot eyes glared at me, burned right into my soul. And I knew she was right. Manipulation was the name of the game. It sounds cold and calculating when I write it down, but if it's either them or you on the end of the string… better it be them.

"You need to be a cheerleader, Polly," Tara continued. "It will get you out in front of lots of people, stage experience, and maybe, if the Langousta team wins All-City, you'll get some exposure in the papers …"

Her eyes, the pupils mere pinheads, gleamed dully. "And speaking of exposure, lover, imagine yourself out there in front of the bleachers, doing high kicks in see-through panties!"

She had to say no more. The two of us signed up to try out for cheerleader. My Mom, of course, was over-joyed. To her it was another example of the wonderful influence that sweet Jane Hawser had on me. Mom began to push and nag like she'd never done before. Always giving me "good advice," like it was her that was doing everything, like she could maybe do it a hundred percent better. I started hating her guts. Not only for the tips on how to be a great cheerleader, but for the encouragement she gave Harold Himmler.

I started dating the glandular freak right after Tara and I hatched out plans. She said it would be a good idea if one of us was going out with the team's big star, that would cinch the cheer-leading spots for us, as well as give me needed experience in paper training a pubescent male. So the next time he cornered me in front of my locker and asked me out, I accepted. If I was afraid of him before… because of his huge bulk and little pig eyes… the look on his face after I took him up on the offer, that shocked, gleeful grin, cured me. He was a total bozo, proverbial putty in my hands. I made up my mind right then that I'd never let him even touch me, that I'd give him terminal blue balls before I let him have a piece of my ass.

After the hysterical fit, an Oscar winning performance, I threw in the back of his woody when he tried to get his finger wet, he was completely cowed, a stuttering, blushing lummox.

Mom really laid it on heavy every time the clod came over, telling him how much I liked him… complete garbage, of course, but she felt she had to gaff my "catch" for me, even though it was obviously gut-hooked.

I couldn't stand to listen to her sucking up to the cretin, puffing tip his already bloated ego. After every session with Mom, it took me a half hour of cold shoulder, sarcastic comment and debasing commands to get things back to normal between us.

Tara and I did get the cheerleader jobs, of course. I never realised how much "practice" went into doing a few rah-rahs. Neither did Harold. It was great. I hardly had to spend any time with him at all.

I'll describe the last session, so what I mean is perfectly clear.

After supper, Harold came by to pick me up. Pop left the room when Mom started in with the "Why, Harold!" bit. It made him as sick as it made me. And old pea brain standing there, toeing the rug, basking in the toothy admiration of a fifty-five-year-old woman! It never failed to get his juices flowing.

On the way out to the woody, he got so overwrought that he actually put his arm around my shoulder!

"Watch it, moron!" I snapped, shrugging his hand off, and swishing my butt extra nice as I moved ahead of him.

"Uh… Pol… hey, I'm sorry," he blubbered.

Keep them groveling, that's my motto. Off their toes and on their knees.

All the way to the practice room, a sound proof room in the home of one of the woman gym coaches, I gave the guy the silent treatment. It was a kick seeing his huge hands strangling the steering wheel in impotent fury. This cat was a killer on the football field. They called him the "Monster Man" because he took such satisfaction out of breaking bones.

And I had him chewing his lips and sniveling like a four-year-old.

I was sitting next to him in my cheerleader outfit, super short pleated skirt, tight sweater that emphasised my firm tits and narrow waist, a teenage queen. I couldn't help but rub his nose in it. When he stopped the car in front of Miss Kundard's house, I threw my arms around his neck and gave him a big, wet kiss on the cheek. He was totally stunned, blushing up a storm. Then I let my hand slide down over his mammoth chest, down to the bulging crotch of his levis.

I'll say one thing about Weird Harold, he does have a big dick. And after all the deprivation therapy I'd been giving him, it was easy as pie getting a rise out of him. I kind of squeezed his entire lump once and BOING! His fire-hose stiffened and sprang half way down his thigh.

"Oh, Harold!" I breathed huskily, giving it a pinch at the bloated head.

"It's so big!"

"Pol… darling… uh…" he groaned, making a clumsy attempt to get his hands in under the short skirt.

That was the signal to split the scene. "Oh, I'm late!" I exclaimed, pushing away from him and sliding out the door.

"B-b-but, Pol…" he whined helplessly, his cock pulsing against his jeans.

"After practice… lover," I promised, blowing him a kiss, knowing full well that after practice ['d be far too exhausted… and satisfied… to want to have anything to do with the ass-hole.

I worked the same sadistic scam on him week after week until I could hardly keep a straight face when it came to the "SO BIG" part. But the nitwit never questioned me, never dared accuse me of prick-teasing him.

He took all his violence out on the field, snapping collarbones, wrenching backs, handing out concussions right and left.

It would've really driven him nuts if he'd ever seen what kind of "practice sessions" went on in Miss Kunard's sound proof room.

After I blew the bozo a kiss, I went up to the front door and rang the bell. As usual, the door opened as if by a ghost and I slipped in.

Behind the door was Miss Kunard, our gym coach, five-foot-five inches of cunt-licking lesbian. She was wearing her silver whistle on a leather thong around her neck… and that was all.

"Hi, Polly," she said, closing the door and sliding into my arms. Her body was warm and soft and sweetly perfumed. She kissed me and her blonde moustache tickled my nose. It wasn't a heavy growth, just enough to be interesting.

I put a hand to her big, fluffy bush and gave the hot gash a rub with my palm. Miss Kunard opened her rather short thighs for me and I really massaged her whole crotch, digging the feel of her dense, womanly fur, and the slick stuff slipping from between her pendulous cunt-lips.

"Ooh, stop!" she said, drawing back. "Stop or I'll rape you right here …"

Having had the pleasure of being raped by Miss Kunard and her magic dildo before, that sounded fine to me.

"… No! Really, dear. The others are already here and we've got things planned," she said, giving her whistle a toot. "Come on, it's a surprise!" she said, leading me into her living room.

From the piles of clothes strewn over the rug, the couch, the armchair, panties, bras, skirts and sweaters, I figured the fun had already begun.

"That's it, Polly, get down to basics," Miss Kunard said, watching me peel off my sweater. The dyke sure liked young meat. Her eyes practically bugged out as I rolled my panties down over my thighs.

"Is your mouth watering, Miss Kunard.?" I asked, spreading my legs and giving her a full view of my plump, downy little mound.

"You are a cool little bitch," she said, smarting from my words, words that got to the nitty gritty, that got to the source of the power I had, we all had, all of us light young things had, over her. For a bull dyke, she had the tastiest job imaginable… the care and training of a half dozen of Langousta High's most delectable cunts… and we used her weakness like a blunt instrument to club her into meek, servile submission.

For the privilege of watching us frolic in the nude. and the pleasure of occasionally dining on fresh pussy. it was her job to provide us with new and demented thrills. She, with her dark brown nipples, her slightly sagging tits, her mammoth bush and faint moustache, would orchestrate the orgies, directing the action with her silver whistle.

I followed the rotating cheeks of her thirty-eight year old ass over to the door to the "practice room." She wasn't bad looking from behind. She wore her light brown hair in a short, mannish shag and the tuff of fuzz between her buns was really kind of cute.

She opened the door and immediately started blowing the hell out of her whistle. "Girls! Stop it this instant!" she ranted, making the whistle do a nerve-racking "Tweeeeet!"

I looked in and saw the tangle of slim legs, silky bodies, firm titties, moist snatches and wagging tongues. They were having a real suck session. There was Twinky Blair, the tanned, sun-bleached blonde, surfer chick; and Pam Rumfurd with her auburn pony tail and bubble gum pink nipples and slit; and Sueann Tsin, a slanty-eyed, black-nippled, half-oriental with ivory skin and just a hint of downy black pubic fuzz; and Rhoda Lugo with her super long, super thick brown hair and her super ample body; and, between the slim, white thighs of Rhoda Lugo, face gooey with Lugo-juice, my friend and fellow pervert, Jane "Tara" Hawser.

"Hi, Polly!" she exclaimed, giving the Lugo slot, hot and puffy pink under the dense brown bush, a loving slurp.

"Alright girls," Miss Kunard said, lezzie eyes eating up all the tender flesh. "Let's do our warm ups."

The "warm ups" were our single concession to the needs of an aging homophile. They consisted of doing toe touches with our legs spread as wide as they'd go while the coach watched from behind. She got a real charge out of the six puckering ass-holes, the six damp muffs bobbing up and down, one-two-three-four.

Then she blew her whistle again. "That's fine, girls," she said. "Now line up and I've got a big surprise for you."

We lined up, but not without copping a few quick feels off each other. I loved the way Sueann's ass felt, a real baby soft butt.

"Keep the groping to a minimum!" she ordered. "Now, when I introduce our special guest to you, I want you to STAY IN LINE! No rushing him, no trying to get a few feels before the others. We're going to play this game by the rules." She gave Tara a castigating look. "Hear that, Hawser?" she asked.

Tara grinned impishly. I could see what the teacher couldn't. Tara's hand was snuggled in between Rhoda's round cheeks; her paired fingers were doing a hell of a job of muff diving.

"Girls…" Miss Kunard said, "meet Tobor." She opened the back door of the room and in bounded the biggest, most beautiful dog I ever saw. It took a three second blast of the whistle to restore order to the chamber.

He was a Great Dane, a huge, drooling monster of a dog. His coat was a sleek grey, shiny, silky like, a two hundred pound silver fox. God! Was he ever gorgeous! He was all legs and jowls, a regular horse of a dog.

And every one of us girls were leaning down, trying for a look at his parts, cooing to him, blowing kisses.

"Here, Tobor! Come on, boy…" Tara shouted, waving her sloppy-wet, curly muff about under his nose.

The poor thing snorted, its immense nose spraying slobber every which way. It looked very confused.

"Now that'll be enough, Hawser!" the coach said, clapping her hands for attention, making her boobs flop all over her chest. "You all know how we play the game. Our honoured guest has his choice of the first partner. After a delightful, three minute interval, at the sound of my whistle, the partners will change. On and on, until we all are quite satisfied. Right?"

"Right!" came the deafening reply.

"No coaxing, now Lugo!" the dyke warned, releasing Tobor's collar.

At first the great hound didn't know what to do. Everybody was so excited. He trotted back and forth on his big, soft pads, snuffing along the floor, looking worried. Then he lifted his leg… and pissed all over Miss Kunard's water bed, a splattering, hissing stream that pooled right in the bed's sagging centre.

"God! He could do that on me, anytime!" Twinky cried, fingering herself.

Her straight blonde bush was shining with her own fragrant lubricant.

Pam Rumfurd, who was the closest chick to the hosing, squealed, "What a pud! What a pud!"

Then the big fellow lowered his leg and paused with much groaning to scratch his fleas. After sniffing his foot, he scrambled to his feet and inspected the troops.

Poor little Sueann got a hot, wet dog nose right on the hairless cunt.

We all laughed at the way her knees knocked together when the animal snorted and gave her juicy slot a long lick. His tongue was immense and pretty doggone wonderful from the way the slender oriental began whimpering and snapping her silky buns.

Then he moved on, leaving her to bite a finger, and flip her hips into thin air. She looked on the verge of tears.

The laugh was on Twinky, then. The dog shoved his soft muzzle in between her thighs and she whinnied ecstatically. She lifted her leg and gave him all the room he needed for a full tour of the grounds. The hot funk really started flowing when dog tongue lapped at her hole, boring up and in for a deep taste. Her baby blue eyes popped way open and her mouth gaped. Tobor knew how to handle himself, alright. His jowls flapped as he stuffed hot tongue up Twinky's snatch. It was more tongue than the surfer girl had ever had. She didn't know whether to hump or cry. so she did both at once.

When her hand dropped to caress the nice doggy's ears, he drew back, snorting long streamers of juice all over the floor.

"Don't touch!" Miss Kunard warmed, as Twinky began to go after the horny stud, to drag him back to the funky trough.

Tobor ambled in my direction. My heart was bashing against my chest. Oh, I loved him so! I thought about that big horse of an animal up on my back, his long thick choad slamming up me, and my cunt just went all mushy. I could feel the trickles of juice running down the inside of my thighs. And my pussy was so hot! Like a little oven, an oven made for baking dog cock.

I felt a ripple of joy surge over my belly as he stopped short right in front of me. Head cocked to one side, drool splattering all over, he looked up at me with his soft brown eyes. And something wonderful happened.

Maybe it was like Lenore Baxter said and I just had a way with dogs, maybe my pussy had some kind of special power.

"God!" Tara cried as the front paws landed on my shoulders, knocking me to my knees. "Look at his cock!!"

That was all I could do! No sooner than my knees hit the floor, than his slimy hot cock was slapping me in the face. I ignored Miss Kunard and her stopwatch, the five other giddy girls, and got down to brass tacks.

With two hands I held the squirming pooch prick still and stuffed the flaring, enraged cap in my mouth. It was the biggest hunk of cock I'd ever tried to suck and my jaws started aching instantly. I could barely get even the head of it in my mouth. Ooh, but it was tasty. Such blazing heat! Such a juicy boy he was! And those horse haunches began snapping.

And I couldn't control his flipping cock, there was just too much of it and he was too damn strong. His dick-head bashed into my mouth, doing its best to ram a new opening to the outside world, through the back of my skull. Don't get me wrong, I do love doggy dick and a little pain never hurt anybody, but Tobor, from that angle was just too damn much.

I kind of collapsed and let the monster sprawl all over me. He rooted around in my forks, whining and nasalising his lust. Then his tongue found my opening and hot tongue lanced up my cunt. I came right then. No bull-shit. Just mind-rattling squirm time in Tobor's face.

Somehow we got turned around and I found myself looking up at all that lean red meat of his. I took hold of the nozzle and gave his cock a home. It was so much better upside down. His dick flew easily down my throat, and I could handle almost all of it without gagging. It did kind of hurt when the needle nose bumped way down my gullet where I swallow, but the taste and the smell and the feel of his dick lunging in and out of my mouth was so fantastic that I didn't give a damn.

The other girls were pressed in close, digging the hot action, shouting encouragement to me. Then the old bull-dyke gave me the one minute warning.

I didn't have much time, but I was determined to get the Dane's cherry.

I gave up his gorgeous cock and removed my shivering forks from under his hot tongue. I got on my belly and then up on all fours in under him.

At the feel of silky back against his belly, and velvety cunt lips in the vicinity of his stiff pod, Tobor locked his forelegs about my chest, cutting off my wind, filling me with the kind of wonderful fear I thought I'd never feel again. God! He was so powerful!!! I could feel his ass shifting, as he tried to find my slot, probing with sizzling tip of his cock in among my tender folds. He grew more and more frantic, his legs hurting me as they twisted my body about to suit his whim. Then, it happened. I guess it was inevitable considering the fact that I was not allowed to use hands to guide him in.

His oozing cock, slippery with my slobber and natural lubricant slid down the crack in my ass and came to an abrupt halt in the pouty floral adornment of my ass-hole.

"Oh! Nooooo!" I cried, as the needle nosed dick neatly, and with no effort, punctured my pore. It slid in, searing my tube, stopping at the point where the cap began to flare out.

I won't name names but somebody over thirty gave Tobor a slap on the ass.

All of a sudden I was taking ass-splitting lunges and squealing my head off. God, could that big bastard throw a mean screw! He was pod deep in my ass after the second thrust and hauling back with his forelegs, dragging me into his ass flips. My poor little ass-hole stretched like taffy to accommodate the heavy choad. And then the pain sort of faded and it wasn't half bad.

That dog loved the feel of tight hole around his cock alright, and he gave me the ass fuck of a life time, shaking up my cookies but good. His pecker kept flying through my ass-hole faster and faster and it was so slick and hot I started coming again even though he wasn't touching my cunt, It was the pressure, I guess. Anyway, I had a tiger on my back and my cunt started squirming and my ass-hole, too, kind of squeezing the long cock as it slid past.

Then old cunt face started blowing her whistle and shouting, "Times up!

Times up" as if Tobor gave a shit.

The girls were spellbound watching all that red dog dick flip up my pore. The top of my head was coming off and Tara was yelling something about Harold, about what if Harold knew who his rival was, who was getting all the jelly-roll. Lord! That made my orgasm better.

It took all six of them to drag the humping Dane off my buns. I kept telling them it's OK, that I liked it, but they were real freaked out, afraid that he might rip me apart on the inside. His cock made a loud pop as it left my ass-hole. It was all I could do to just sit on the floor, pre-come leaking from my abused pore, my pore flexing like a banshee, my hips still jerking about wildly, my bowels still burning from the friction of his cock.

The intense corn-hole scene had sent the other girl's libido into outer space. The coach could no more control them than she could control herself. While I writhed, scooting across the floor on a wonderfully aching pore, the orgy began in earnest.

Pam and Rhoda crawling under Tobor's belly with open, drooling mouths.

Twinky was assaulting dog dick head on. Little Sueann had plopped herself down in an armchair, hung her slim legs over the arms, holding her juicy, red-lipped cunt open, for the Dane to lick. The dog waded into her tight twat, tongue tip searching for and finding the source of her mysterious, bitter herb and musk tasting pussy slop. The girl wriggled in joy as hot tongue surged up her tube and her soft buns leapt up from the chair seat to greet the quickening, deepening lunges.

Tara was trying in vain to impale herself on the stick hard, but frantically wagging grey tail. She was standing on one foot, thighs spread, the other foot braced against the inside of her wobbling knee.

She'd get the thick tail tip aimed tight… it would've been hard to miss those drooping, swollen fuck-ready lips, even in the dark… and Tobor would remember that he was one happy dog and the tail would squirt out of the slot.

Pam and Rhoda were making sloppy sounds in under Tobor's belly, their butts bobbing, sticking up in the air. They were licking dog cock from either side, tongues lashing over one another, while Twinky sucked and puffed over the juicy red bulb.

Miss Kunard was in a perfect fuck-dither, head snapping from upturned buns and dewy pink twats to dog-lips slobbering over an ecstatic girl's widely spread and flexing pussy to the mind-boggling sight of a nubile teenager trying to fuck herself with a dog's wagging tail. As a very distraught Tara tossed Tobor's tail away in disgust, our dear coach kneeled down and helped herself to a hot meal of Rhoda Lugo's furry little cunt.

Rhoda shrieked in delight as the lesbian instructress slid five inches of well-trained tongue up her pussy from behind. The brown tressed beauty flipped her ass into Miss Kunard's face, making the eager dyke's nose grind into her nasty little bung-hole.

"Jesus!" Tara cried, yanking at her hair, eyes crazed. Then a glimmer of inspiration lit her face and she threw herself on the big dog's smooth, furry back. She straddled his back, locking her bare and juicing fork onto his backbone, his quivering, jerking musculature. She rode that animal's silky back like a rodeo cowboy, one hand in the air. Her hot slot slid up and down the smooth fur, leaving behind a snail's trail of woman goo, and she was whooping and hollering and coming all over him.

Even Miss Kunard looked up from her teen meat feast to see what was happening.

Things were moving right along for us girls… I'd come, Tara'd come, little Sueann had come for about five minutes straight, Rhoda'd come in the coach's mouth, and Pam, who was licking dog dick and fingering Twinky, was on the verge of some heavy squirming… as was the cock-sucking surfer girl. Things didn't seem so good for Tobor… it worried me, too.. like maybe the big fella had prostate trouble or something.

Tara was thinking the same thing as she swung her loose and very red cunt off the dog's back. "Hey, girls!" she yelled. "I got a great idea!"

Everybody but the cunt sucking coach looked up.

"Let's give this doggy some lesbo twat! Who knows, maybe it'll be the first real male meat she's had up that hairy thing!"

She had to say no more. It was pile-on-the-coach time.

"Girls! Girls! Dear God, nooooo!" she wailed as we forcibly hauled her off Rhoda's cunt, as we dragged her to her feet. "TWEEEEET" she blew on the silver whistle That gave us all a big fat laugh.

Pam and Sueann pushed the armchair over so the long flat back of it was sticking up, so the seat was facing the floor.

"Girls, enough is enough," she said, trying to fake us out with her stern teacher voice. She broke down again when we grabbed her wrists and pulled her, belly down on the back of the chair. Her ass stuck way up in the air, her legs dangling between the chair legs, her face going all purple from the blood rushing to it.

While Pam, Rhonda, Sueann and Twinky held the terrified teacher pinned to the overturned chair, Tara and I led the panting dog up the garden path. All we had to do was point him in the general direction. Once his nose caught her cunt stench there was no holding him back.

I kind of felt a little sorry for old Miss Kunard. When Tobor leapt up on her back, she started blowing her whistle in short, panicked bursts.

"Tweet! Tweet!"

The big fellow's hairy haunches were snapping, flipping right into her big womanly buns. His long dong was going every which way, between her ass-cheeks, in under her belly, everywhere but the right place.

I ducked in under heaving dog chest and flailing coach legs, took a handful of educator muff, split it with my fingers, then I took hold of Tobor's slimy fire-hose.

"Give it to her!" Tara shouted gleefully.

I shoved needle nose into creamy pink gash and jumped for cover.

"Tweeeeeet!"

Tobor hurled himself onto her, driving even the wide pod tip into her uptilted cunt, force-feeding every millimetre of his cock into her. The coach just stiffened, her face turning purple.

"Look at that!" Pam cried, as dog hips shot back, drawing with them a horribly engorged prick, the distended, sucking lips of Miss Kunard's pussy, and probably the largest hair-pie in Taxco.

"Twee… t!" the lesbo blew weakly as Tobor, eyes on the prize, jowls drooling all over her back, began humping her in earnest… long, cunt rending ass flips that wrung quarts of hot lubricant from her box. His lips were drawn back from his fangs, his soft brown eyes were closed. He was snorting like a steam engine, pumping like a jack-hammer.

Then Miss Kunard's mouth fell open. The silver whistle stuck to her lower lip for an instant, then fell away. "Oh, ahhh! Oooh, lover!!!" she cried, lifting her soft ass into the dog's dick flips.

The smell in the room was bad, let me tell you. And I mean bad.

Thirty-eight year old pussy, once it gets in motion, sure doesn't smell like anything human. More like wombat cunt, or tapir twat.

I was content to let things just grind on out to the finish, Tobor whining and screwing, Miss Kunard shaking her ass and screwing right back. But, of course, Tara had to get her little pink tongue into things. She and Twinky crept in behind the dog's jabbing butt, and the two of them shoved their hot tongues right up the flexing ass-hole Talk about instant action! That doggy jerked like he'd gotten ten thousand volts. And hot flop was spurting all over the place, actually flying out of her tube from the powerful pressure behind the squirts.

Coach had her cheek pressed to the vinyl back of the chair; her face was deep purple; her ass feinting and flipping, tube milking hot doggy come as she orgasmed.

The two of them screwed righteously for some time after their orgasms stopped. Miss Kunard's muff completely covered in sperm. It looked like someone had dumped a 16-ounce container of Elmer's Glue-all down her ass crack.

When we finally dragged the happy dog off her, she just laid there on the chair, ass sticking up, goo running down the back of her thighs, for the longest time. We got kind of worried and helped her to her feet. She could barely stand and I swear, at first anyway, her eyeballs were crossed.

"T-thank you girls," she said in a voice that was a frail, quaking, breaking whisper.

We knew she didn't mean, thank you for helping her off the chair.

After a group shower and feel-a-thon, it was time to go home. Weird Harold was sitting outside in the woody.

"Hi, Poll, how'd it go?" he asked, sliding a gorilla arm about my neck.

I could see by the tent pole in his pants that he'd remembered my little promise about "later." I wondered if it was the same hard-on as before.

"Oooh, baby…" he crooned in my ear, his animal paws slipping down to cup my tits.

"Hey! Cut it out!" I cried, shoving him off me. I pointed at the large lump in his crotch. "Is that all you think about?"

He crossed his legs trying to hide the erection, his face blushing.

"You've got a one track mind, Himmler! You're sick, sick, sick. I don't think I want to know you any more…"

"Wow, Pol… I'm sorry," the big turkey blubbered. "I know you're not that kind of a girl…"

At that very instant my asshole kind of twitched and I was bathed in warm memories of stabbing dog dick, dick pounding on my sphincter. I thought: "If you only knew, you big tub of guts!!!"

I had to turn away to repress the bubbling rush of giggles I felt rising from my soul. "And don't you forget it, Harold!" I warned him. "Take me home!!"

"Monster Man" cranked up the Ford and eased out into the street, meek as a lamb. To make him feel even worse about his base desires, I didn't deny him the ritual peck on the cheek at my front door.

"Oh, wow" the caveman gushed, rushing away from me to hide his tears, his shame.

Damn! Was that ever a kick in the ass!