First things first. I did not right or have anything to do with the following story. I recently found a large quantity of some very high quality and original writings. proper credit is hereby given to the actual author of this and more stories that will follow.

Pet Shop Pussy by Rick Jennings

Chapter 1

Pamela Harper lay alone in her bed with the awareness, the growing
concern and concomitant anxiety, that her life was basically empty. No
matter how hard she tried to structure it, to give it a unifying sense
of order or purpose, she sensed that without someone next to her to
share her dreams, her goals and aspirations, life wasn’t really worth a
dime.

How many mornings have I awakened like this … with nothing, just a
career, but no one alongside of me? This question and others passed
across her mind. She looked up and stared at the ceiling as if she was
searching for an answer, a solution to the emptiness in her heart.

Love was the problem, and at twenty-eight it seemed to be her biggest
concern. The daily hassles of making a living, of running a business and
making ends meet, were not nearly as disconcerting as the fact that she
was not in love. Indeed, she was acutely aware of the last time she had
felt anything akin to romantic involvement, and that had been more than
five years before, right after she had graduated from college.

But the past five years she referred to as a desert, a wasteland.

Men had come and gone, in and out of her life. Had she been a woman who
was basically unappealing, physically as well as mentally, she would
have been able to give herself a much needed rationalization for her
overwhelming sense of loneliness. But there was no way for her to
convince herself that men didn’t turn somersaults over her.

And that too was a problem, keeping them off of her, getting them out
the door before things really took on a leering shade of carnal red.
Like what had happened last night, for example. She thought of that now,
glad too that it was Sunday morning and she didn’t have to get out of
bed and get the shop open and ready for customers.

On Sundays she had a neighborhood boy clean out the pens and feed the
animals, so she didn’t have to worry about getting up and rushing out of
her apartment. That was what Dick Truman had told her, too. “You don’t
have to get up early tomorrow, Pam, so what’s the big hassle, anyway?”

It had been less of a question than a statement. No, time hadn’t been
the hassle. Only Dick Truman, anxious to have her on a silver platter
like a roast suckling pig. He’s the pig, she said to herself, shuddering
at the thought and then wondering too if she just might be frigid … or
maybe even just a little bit frigid.

After all, Dick was certainly an attractive guy. But he was too pushy
for her, too much of a hard-drinking bruiser. He didn’t have a gentle
touch and that had turned her off from him, from the very first.

I just won’t accept any more dates from him, that’s all, she decided,
right then and there. Pam wondered if it had been her fault, if she had
led the man on, agreeing to go out with him for what had been four dates
over as many weeks. And last night had been the clincher, that’s for
sure.

“What are you, some cockteasing ball-buster!” he had shouted when they
were alone in her apartment, when she had once again rebuffed his sexual
advances, feigning first a headache and then a lack of interest in
making love with him.

“Just get out of here and leave me alone,” she had snapped back, sorry
she had ever been conned–for that was the way Pam saw it–into letting
him come into the apartment for a nightcap. “A nightcap isn’t a
euphemism for let’s fuck, Mr. Truman!”

“I don’t think you’d know how, anyway, kiddo,” the man had replied, as
cocky and sure of himself as she had always felt him to be. “Have a good
life, baby, a good long horny life.” And with that he had let himself
out, slamming the door behind him.

She hated herself for breaking down after he had stormed out, for
collapsing on the couch, her body racked with sobs. Because what Pamela
Harper couldn’t deal with was the fact that whatever Dick had said
somehow rang true. She hadn’t enjoyed sex with a man in ages, more than
just weeks or even a month or two.

And she knew it was abnormal to stifle her desires, to squelch her
sexual appetites, all in the name of love. It wasn’t as if she was a
virgin, or even an old maid. At the ripe young age of twenty-eight she
was more of a woman than ever before. Full-hipped, narrow-waisted,
blessed with a plentiful and upthrust bustline and features which seemed
to remind men of the heads adorning cameo pins, she was a woman who was
very much aware of her own allure, her sexual magnetism, in particular.

Hadn’t she caught the boy who helped her out during the week and on
Sundays, giving her the eye? She knew she had, knew that half of the
sales she made at her shop were partly due to the fact that not only was
she a natural born saleswoman, but the fact that she was too lush and
seductive to say no to.

Truman had felt that, she decided. But she had been the one who had said
no to him, the one who had denied him not only his pleasure, but also
hers in addition. Not for one minute did she doubt that he would be good
in bed. But she wasn’t in love with him and knew that there was no
chance in the world she would ever be.

“But you don’t have to be in love to get fucked,” he had told her that
night, rephrasing a line he had used on each of their four dates. “It’s
just nice to sleep with someone, to give someone pleasure and get
pleasure as a result … of giving, of giving to someone else, Pam.”

He had been earnest, she knew, but it still hadn’t changed the situation
nor changed her mind one iota. “They don’t understand me, Bix. That’s
the problem,” she said aloud. “They just don’t know what kind of person
I am. I give, I have feelings … don’t I?”

In response, Bix crawled up from where he had been sleeping at the foot
of Pam’s bed. He sat up and cocked his head to the side; his dark liquid
brown-black eyes seemingly reflecting her every questioning thought and
turn of mood.

“You’re a good boy, Bixie. You understand me … not like anyone else,”
she went on. She reached out and ran her fingers over the top of the
Scottish terrier’s head. He yapped happily and scooted up over the
covers to sit on top of her chest.

Despite his thirty pounds of hard bone and muscle, his weight was not in
the least bit uncomfortable. Her hands snaked down along the Scottie’s
flanks and she ran her fingers through the thicker fur along his sides,
then down over his back where the hair had just been stripped.

It was tough as nails, wiry and jet-black.

“You’re a champ, ya know that, Bixie. You’re Champion Sir Bix Reliant.
That’s what it says on your papers. But you’re just good old Bixie to
me, feller.”

In response, the dog lay down on top of her blanketed body, arched his
short muscular neck and proceeded to lavish her face with kisses. His
spoon-shaped tongue slapped raspily over her cheeks and lips and she
smiled contentedly to herself.

At least animals understand me, she thought, knowing she had chosen a
perfect profession. She ran a pet shop–Pam’s Pet Palace said the
brightly lettered sign over her front windows. All day she was
surrounded by the chattering and chirping, the barking and meowing of
monkeys and parrots, puppies and kittens.

But when she came home at night, all she had was Bix, faithful and there
for her. But still a dog, not a man. Now, the Scottie continued to lick
her face with his rough raspy-edged tongue. Pam hugged him close against
her, wanting to cry but unable to produce tears to sluice down her
cheeks.

The anguish was there, but trapped, locked inside of her. She didn’t
even feel sorry for herself, either, despite what she saw as an
accumulation of thwarted passions, or perhaps just a lack of emotion,
her feelings stifled inside of her.

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.

And the more Bix licked and tongued her pussy, his tongue actually
pistoning in and out from between the trembling puffy lips of her
vagina, the more aroused Pam Harper fast became. She could feel her
climax growing in strength and she began to buck and heave, jerking her
crotch back and forth against the terrier’s lowered face.

Her strenuous shivering motions seemed to spur the dog on and Bix’s hard
raspy tongue almost nipped at her cunt as she felt the way the animal
was sucking down the thick rivulets of oily musky sap which sluiced down
along the walls of her pussy.

Her cunt was swampy and overheated now, but she didn’t want to come …
not right this instant, in any event. So rather than shorten her
pleasures, she sought to prolong them by lifting her legs back until her
knees were pressing down against her tits and the smooth white cheeks of
her boyish ass jutted out in the Scottie’s direction.

The gamy sour odor of her anus had, so she had discovered when Bix was
just a puppy, always aroused the dog’s oral attentions. This Sunday
morning was certainly no exception, for no sooner had she thrust her
bottom out in his direction when Bix dug deeper, shoving his snout and
then his swift-moving little tongue, right between the warm supple
cheeks of her delectable bottom.

A low-pitched sigh of ecstasy escaped Pam’s lips the instant she felt
Bix’s tongue licking and dabbing at the pink puckered folds of her anus.
The hairless rosy aperture began to clench and unclench like a toothless
mouth as she worked her sphincter muscles as if to egg the dog on to
greater and greater feats of oral–and now, analingual–excess.

He never fails me, she thought to herself as the dog’s tongue palpitated
the rim of her anus. She reached down then and pulled her buns as far
apart as she could, stretching the narrow slick opening of her
fundament.

Bix’s tongue actually worked its way right inside to the inner edge of
her rectum. And as soon as this was accomplished, Pam let go of her
buttocks and rammed her stiffened index finger right down between the
twin puffy lips of her cooze.

“Shit, do it! More, eat me, lick me!” she cried out, shuddering more
violently as her passions began to erupt with demonic force and
intensity.

There was no stopping her, or Bix for that matter, after that.

Her index finger surged in and out as she pistoned it down into her
pussy, farther than the length of the terrier’s tongue could allow. The
wet slippery walls of her cunt surged together to embrace her digit and
a second finger soon followed the searing path of the first, the two of
them moving in unison, held stiffly and tightly together.

She scissored them open and shut around the stalk of her steamy cut and
the friction thus produced made her body thrash more vigorously on the
bed. Any second and she knew it would happen, her orgasm descending upon
her like a bolt of lightning.

But she tried to hold it back for as long as possible, the floodgates of
ecstasy about to break down and the rush of pleasure stream like boiling
water through her excited body. And all this time, Bix was still licking
and reaming her asshole, rimming her out and never growing tired of the
task she had rather effortlessly taught him when he was just a pup.

Her two fingers worked like a cock, plunging more determinedly in and
out of her pussy, scraping up against her clit in their maddened rush
down into her shuddering vagina. She closed her eyes then and it was
just the same as always, the identical fantasy taking wing in her mind,
filling her thoughts with its pleasurable and highly arousing images.

Her fingers kept moving, swifter than ever as she consciously dreamed
the fantasy that always consumed her when she was moments away from her
climax. In it, she was right where she was now, lying in bed, with or
without Bix. Her blonde hair was spread out over the white pillowslip
like a golden halo and soft rays of early morning light danced and
glinted along the pale blue bedroom walls.

But she was not asleep, for in her fantasy her eyes were half-open,
capable of seeing everything that was about to take place. It started
when a shadow moved behind the drawn lace curtains, a silhouette she
instinctively knew belonged to a man. And then a leg, a leg with a
scuffed cowboy boot and a covering of skintight faded denim, slid over
the window sill, followed by another foot and then a body which pushed
the window wider so that the man could gain access into her bedroom.

And there she was, lying in bed, pretending to be asleep, but seeing
everything that was taking place. It was the man of her dreams,
literally as well as figuratively, who now eased himself into her silent
bedroom, invading her home and her privacy.

But in the fantasy, and now in real life, a smile could be seen etched
across her thin pursed lips as she caught sight of the silent figure
staring down at her while she lay in bed. Languidly, she turned over
onto her back, flicking the covers down as if she was still asleep.

And the man’s eyes opened even wider, dark brown eyes that seemed
capable of drilling into her flesh like laser beams. They gazed in awe
and delight at the bristly bush of fur which adorned her tender virginal
pubic mound, highlighting the narrow gash of her cunt furrow, accenting
the drooping lips of her twat now curling in against each other, furry
and warm and slightly damp with the juices which had oozed down her
trench during the night.

She could see his excitement branded like a tattoo across his face, the
way his nostrils dilated as he sucked in his breath, the way his thickly
sensual lips opened slightly as if they were linked directly to his wide
and staring eyes.

And then, she opened her eyes wider and gave a sudden start of fear,
fear that was dealt with in a flash as the stranger threw himself down
on top of the bed. The bedcovers were pulled back like flimsy tissue
paper and he took hold of her supple thighs and then rammed his flushed
and eager face right down between her spread-eagled legs.

But in the dream she did not scream or fight back, except to give a
sudden shudder of defiance, defiance which vanished the instant the
stranger’s lowered head nuzzled against her box and his tongue lashed
out across her warm and inviting pussy.

Yes, do it, lick me, love me, she thought to herself, her fingers still
moving in and out of her cunt as her passions got ready to erupt like
molten lava, her body a volcano about to explode with fiery vengeance.

It was so clear, so lifelike that when she opened her eyes she could
still see the man lying down, stretched out on the bed, his jean-clad
legs hanging over the foot of the bed and his tongue lapping frantically
across her juicy pubic mound.

She closed her eyes tightly then, as if to reinforce the potency of her
erotic dream, her lusty fantasy. Yes, it was better this way, Pam
decided to herself, still moaning as she felt her climax about to
overwhelm her.

The man no longer frightened her, his startling entrance through her
bedroom window, the way his lips and tongue were plundering and raping
her cunt, all arousing her in a way no man in her real life had ever
succeeded in doing before.

The stranger’s hard muscled body turned her on as well and his thick
curly brown hair was soft and baby-fine when she reached down and ran
her fingers through it, gently and lightly caressing the top of his
head.

She had seen too his lean and burly physique and the potent rounded
bulge tenting up the front of his skintight jeans. All these visual
stimuli served to inflame her passions and then, as she imagined how his
tongue would feel as it pistoned in and out of her cunt, how the edges
of his front teeth would nip and chew up and down the length of her
stubby hot clit, she suddenly threw her legs down over Bix’s head and
screamed out, knowing that the moment of pleasure was finally at hand.

She let her passions take control and as she maneuvered a third finger
into place, she was gasping and shaking on the bed, her limbs shivering
involuntarily and her orgasm erupting with all the fire and delight no
man had ever gotten her to feel.

“More, lick me, love me, love me!” she cried out as if the burly young
man in her dream was actually there, standing by the foot of her bed
with a lewd and lascivious grin etched across his lips.

But when she stared wildly around, even as hot rivulets of fresh cunt
juice streamed down the burning walls of her stimulated twat, she could
see that she was alone with Bix, that no one else had entered her room,
either from the window which led out onto the fire escape, or through
the locked front door of her three-room apartment.

And a look of anger mingled with the rage of her erotic release as Pam
kept writhing back and forth. Bix continued to lash his tongue around
her anus, licking and nipping at her bottom-hole while her three fingers
plunged and darted deeper and deeper into her burning snatch.

She was milking herself of every last drop of cunt juice, every last
burning charge of sexual pleasure. Her orgasm was like a spring suddenly
uncoiling inside of her and by the time she had drained herself dry and
Bix had finally pulled his tongue back to sit up and stare at her
flushed and reddened face, Pam was too exhausted to say or do another
thing.

She just lay there on her bed, the rosy-red glow which had suffused her
skin now fading as the blush of fiery pleasure began to expire like
smoldering glowing coals in a dying fire. “Where are you, you prick!
Where the fuck are you hiding?” she screamed out, her face contorted
with anger that grew more intense and vituperative as she stared wildly
around the room.

Had her life been a fairy tale, she would have awakened from her
reveries to discover that they had come true. But today, as in the past,
fantasy had not been transformed into the stuff of life. A cool breeze
fanned the lace curtains and through the opened window, which led out
onto the fire escape, she could hear the murmur of voices, of children
playing out on the street, of a neighbor arguing with her husband.

But no one, no burly blue-jeaned cowboy-booted young man, was crouched
down on the fire escape, about to lift the window wide and slide one
foot and then the other into her room, entering her apartment and thus,
entering her life.

No tears, not today, Pam said to herself. She patted Bix and got up out
of bed, knowing it was time to face the dull gray languor of reality …
her reality, her boring and dispassionate life.

Chapter 2

Living as she did in what had formerly been a rent-controlled apartment,
quite a plum as far as the vast majority of Manhattanites were
concerned, Pam had the added luxury of space, space which included a
kitchen that not only had a window, but that was also big enough to
easily hold a round oak dining table and four cane-backed chairs.

Nearly all of her friends bemoaned their fate, the exorbitant rentals
they paid in modern luxury buildings. And almost every one of them were
forced to eat in dining alcoves and living rooms, substituting
ventilator grates for kitchen windows.

The late morning sun streamed brilliantly into the kitchen and the
hanging plants, which decorated the window, were lush and full. There’s
absolutely no reason to be depressed, Pam told herself as she sipped her
third cup of coffee and idly flicked the pages of the Sunday Times she
had picked up at a newsstand the night before.

Bix lay stretched out on the yellow tile floor, sunning himself after
having consumed his light morning snack. She looked down at his furry
black body and smiled to herself, pleased with his loyalty and doubly
pleased with the way he never failed to excite her, knowing almost
instinctively what to do to arouse her passions.

It wasn’t so much her training as it was the dog’s temperament and
seemingly natural inclination to lick and tongue her body, her cunt and
her asshole in particular. But that, she knew, was not all that she had
taught him, nor was it the only trick Bix knew how to perform for his
mistress.

But this morning she didn’t want to think of that, having caught sight
of the terrier’s bony penis when Bix had sat up on the bed, moments
after she had felt the last searing convulsions which marked her orgasm.

She wondered if he was capable of disappointment, then dismissed the
notion as anthropomorphic, not wanting to give a dog human feelings, to
endow an animal–even one as obviously bright and clever as Bix–with
emotions best left for people to experience and deal with.

But in her eyes, at least, he hadn’t looked all that happy, sitting up
on the bed so that she had been able to see the pencil-thin and
triangulated tip of his penis sticking out from its black hairy sheath.

The glistening flesh of his dog-cock was wet with canine genital
secretions, a thin slippery fluid that she had tasted on numerous
occasions in the past, carnal episodes of bestiality, she had told
absolutely no one about.

Shame was one emotion she had learned to cope with quite early on in her
life, for before Bix there had been her first dog, a honey colored
cocker spaniel who made up for his unremarkable behavior and
intelligence in other and far more intriguing ways.

She remembered that first incident with the spaniel, when she had just
turned fifteen. It stood before her mind’s eye as if it was happening,
right there in the kitchen. But then she blinked and the image
disappeared.

No, she decided, I’ve done enough fantasizing for one day. It’s time to
get out and shake off my depression before I really end up in the loony
bin. She did not think she was headed for a breakdown, but as she got up
to wash the breakfast dishes she sensed that unless things changed, the
pattern of her life that is, no good would come of her burgeoning
anxieties and dissatisfaction with the tenor of her existence.

“Want to romp in the park today, Bixie?” she asked her dog when the last
of the breakfast dishes had been washed and set in the drainer to dry.

Bix yawned and stretched his legs, his carrot-shaped black tail rising
up jauntily, wagging this way and that as he trotted obediently behind
her, back into the bedroom where she picked out the clothes she would
wear that afternoon.

Less than an hour later found her standing at the top of what New
Yorkers had dubbed “Dog Hill,” a denuded though still fairly grassy
rounded hill which overlooked Fifth Avenue and the 79th Street entrance
to Central Park.

Sunday, she knew, was the worst day of all, when the park was crowded
with families and Dog Hill was a sea of barking running canine bodies.
The good weather, the first taste of summer in what had been an
unusually rainy spring, had brought the people out in droves and as she
stood and looked around her, surveying the view while she kept a
diligent eye on Bix, she suddenly stiffened and refused to believe her
eyes.

I’m dreaming, she thought to herself, ignoring Bix so that she was able
to train both eyes on the tall athletically built figure who stood some
distance away from her, halfway down the rise of the gently sloping
hill.

She could see his profile, the straight aquiline line of his nose, the
thick and in her eyes sensual lips, now set in a slight and almost dazed
bemused little grin. Dark piercing eyes stared out, open and devoid of
deceit, from under a pair of thick bushy eyebrows.

Even the same hair, Pam thought to herself, for the young man who now
was causing her to stare almost blatantly and rudely, had a thick mop of
shaggy and curly dark-brown hair, hair which almost seemed to be the
identical shade of brown as his eyes.

She shook her head and held herself more stiffly, aware of the way she
had been trembling. Her fingers clutched Bix’s leash and the yapping and
scurrying all around her did not serve to break her mood of silent and
watchful amazement.

It’s him, the same guy, the one who comes in the window, she thought,
still not sure if she was somehow hallucinating, seeing a mirage,
imagining the young man as he stood below her on the hill, his own eyes
trained on a powerfully built liver-colored Doberman pinscher.

As in the dream, the stranger wore faded and skintight blue jeans, even
scuffed square-toed cowboy boots as well. A work shirt as equally faded
and bleached as his dungarees covered his muscular torso and Pamela
smiled nervously, wondering if she was finally going off the deep end.

But when she blinked rapidly, the image before her didn’t waver or fade
away in the least. If anything, she could see the young man even more
clearly. All the details of his face and body, details she had memorized
as if the dream had come to her full-blown, not a product of her own
subconscious yearnings, matched one against the other.

She shivered again, spooked out by the apparition that had magically
come to life. She had waited so long to meet a man like the one who
raped her, alone in her bedroom, that now she didn’t know if she should
just turn around and run off in the opposite direction.

But before she could even recover from her surprise, or regain her
self-composure, their eyes met and for the life of her she neither
wanted to nor could she even pull away from the young man’s wide and
unswerving stare.

He turned his head to the side and looked up at her and if there was
such a thing as love at first sight, Pam knew that she was the victim of
it, of Cupid’s dart. Her knees felt weak and bravely, feeling silly and
as adolescent as a blushing schoolgirl, she curled her lips up into a
smile.

It was not ignored.

The fellow grinned broadly, just as she saw Bix race into view, running
circles around the liver colored Doberman. The pinscher was a male, but
surprisingly enough he and Bix seemed to get along fine, enjoying each
other’s company, enjoying too the canine games the Scottie so delighted
in.

Bix yapped merrily and darted right underneath the Doberman’s body. The
smooth-coated dog barked loudly and sprang off down the hill, Bix’s
short stubby legs flying out behind him as he hurried after in hot
pursuit.

“Holmes!” the young man called out as the two dogs raced down the hill,
so involved in their own games and animal pleasures that, at least for
the time being, they were oblivious to their masters.

“Bix, get over here!” Pam cried out, her feet moving in front of her.
Almost mechanically she strode down the hill, one foot placed before the
other as if she was just learning how to walk. She was headed right
towards the young man and a smile still played across her lips.

“Holmes, get your ass over here … now!” the guy yelled out.

The Doberman stopped short, lifted his fox-like snout and then began to
race back up the hill. Bix was right behind him, a black streak against
the pinscher’s short liver-tinted body. By the time the two dogs had
arrived at the young man’s feet, Pam was standing right before him,
still clutching Bix’s leather lead.

“That’s a good boy, Holmes. Now just quiet down and sit still for a
minute,” the fellow said good-naturedly.

Pamela knew she was in love and the very notion made her shudder once
again. She wiped her forehead with the tips of her fingers, able to feel
how she had suddenly begun to sweat profusely. “You too, Bix,” she said,
her voice cracking and her throat gone dry and parched.

“Bix? Why Bix?” asked the young man, turning to stare at her the way he
had done earlier. And, for a second time, their eyes met, the stare held
rigid and unmoving.

“Why?” she heard herself replying to his question. “He’s just … just a
little Bix, that’s all. Silly. I can’t remember why I decided to name
him that. It just came to me when I saw him, that’s all.”

“You’re right,” the young man agreed with another disarmingly open and
good-natured grin. “He does look like a Bix.”

“And Holmes?” asked Pam. “Where’s his double-brimmed cap and his
drooping pipe?”

“Oh,” the young man laughed, “I only let him wear those things in the
privacy of my apartment. Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.
Actually, it was the look in his eyes that made the decision for me.
Seemed so piercing, so inquisitive, even when he was just a pup.”

Pam glanced over at the Doberman. He was sitting at his master’s feet,
his great wet tongue hanging out of his mouth. Her eyes slid down,
caught sight of the long thinly furred sheath that concealed the dog’s
cock and then jerked back to the young man’s smiling face.

“Want to go for a cup of coffee?” he suddenly blurted out, almost as if
he was now as nervous as she was.

“What?” she said, startled by the swiftness of the stranger’s
invitation. “I … I don’t even know your name.”

“And if you did … would it make any difference?” he said. “But to set
your mind at ease, I’m listed in the Manhattan directory, under W for
Whitlock. Justin Whitlock.”

“Pam Harper,” she replied, finding herself extending her hand as they
grinned back at each other and shook hands like two businessmen meeting
each other for the first time before sitting down to lunch.

“Good, then it’s settled,” he said, whereupon he attached the chain
leash he held to Holmes’ collar.

Pam clicked Bix’s lead into place and the two of them, led by their two
straining panting dogs, moved down the hill towards the 79th Street exit
from the park. Pam felt at a complete loss for words, nodding her head
numbly as Justin spoke to her.

She was growing acutely aware of the way he kept glancing at her from
the corner of his eye. It was a look she had seen before, as recently as
the previous evening in fact, when Dick Truman had taken her out for
dinner.

But whereas Truman’s leering wolfish grin had turned her off, had
frightened her in point of fact, she accepted Justin’s obvious interest
in her with something that resembled downright pleasure and considerable
delight.

She had never met a man this way, a complete and total stranger. For all
she knew he could be a homicidal maniac, a psychotic, sexually
maladjusted. But even if all that was true, nothing was going to stop
her from finally taking a chance with her life and doing the one thing
which now came to her as naturally and easily as the very act of
breathing, of inhaling and exhaling as she walked alongside of him.

When they reached Fifth Avenue they turned left, heading uptown. They
walked past the crowds surging in and out of the Metropolitan Museum,
past some of the embassy buildings that were located along Fifth Avenue,
in view of the park.

She didn’t ask him where they were going, if he intended to stop at a
coffee shop or head straight back to his apartment. Secretly, she hoped
he would choose the latter and when he caught hold of her elbow and
guided her across Fifth Avenue and down Eighty-eighth Street, she smiled
to herself and didn’t utter a single word of protest.

“Five flight walkup,” he announced when they reached the unrenovated
brownstone where he rented an apartment. “Sorry about that, but I refuse
to be subsidized by dear old dad.”

“I don’t care. I like to walk,” she replied, shy again as she followed
him up the granite steps which led into the pocket-sized vestibule and
lobby of the building.

Justin dug into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a ring of
keys, selecting the correct one to unlock the front door. Then, moving
down the dimly illuminated and narrow hallway, he led Pam upstairs to
his apartment.

She followed right behind him; able to hear the way her heart was
beating like a steam-hammer in her breast, able to feel the nervous
pulsing throb of blood in her temples. But even more than that, she was
becoming acutely aware of another sensation, one that she had
experienced in the past, but rarely if ever as a result of being in the
company and presence of a man.

Between her legs she could feel how juice was seeping down, trickling
along the walls of her cunt and oozing over her hairy pubic mound. She
was wearing a skirt and she was almost startled at the way her crotch
had gotten suddenly wet and swampy, juice threatening to actually drip
down along the insides of her thighs.

The walls of her cunt could be felt fluttering again and again and she
could hardly believe her body was responding like this, for she had not
felt this kind of sexual reaction to anyone in so long that she had
almost forgotten what it could be like.

But now, she knew exactly what it was like, for she was unable to stop
shaking, unable to stop staring up at Justin’s muscular back, his tight
boyish ass outlined beneath the skintight covering of his jeans, or the
long thickly muscles back of his calves and thighs.

His body seemed to radiate the same kind of intense animalism as Holmes’
wiry and powerful build, dog and master appearing in her eyes to be even
more suited to each other than she had first thought. This is insane,
she told herself. What am I doing here, following this guy upstairs to
his apartment, when I don’t even know who he is, or anything about him?

Nevertheless, she made no move to turn, nor did she even voice her
doubts. Her disbelief, the fact that the longer she was in his company
the more he came to even more closely resemble the man she had almost
fantasized about, all got the best of her, squelching any thoughts to
the contrary.

She paused at the top of the fifth floor landing to catch her breath.
She had taken Bix off the leash and now he was wagging his tail,
delighted with his outing and his new friend. Holmes stood attentively
behind Justin as he unlocked the door to his apartment, turning around
to usher Pam inside.

One glance was all she needed to put her fears to rest. The studio
apartment was warm and inviting, with soft browns and tans the
predominant color scheme. “I’ll fix a pot of coffee … I can’t stand
instant,” he told her. “Just make yourself comfortable, put some music
you like on the stereo.”

Dumbly, she nodded her head and moved into the large airy room. She put
her shoulder bag down and moved to the stereo, flicking through the
stack of record albums until she had found something to her liking. It
was Franck’s “Symphony in d,” one of her favorites. She slid the record
out of the album sleeve and put it down on top of the turntable, doubly
pleased that he had it in his collection, that already their similar
tastes were showing through, joining them even more closely to each
other.

Bix and Holmes seemed exhausted and they lay near the couch, their
tongues lolling out of their mouths and their eyes half-closed, dreamy
with the need for sleep. That too was fine with her. She didn’t want
them to turn into a hassle, a nuisance.

The soft strains of the symphony came back to her as she sat down on the
couch, a straight-backed tweed-covered sofa whose down pillows gave way
under her weight. She sank down and sighed to herself, still finding it
all too difficult to deal with.

I should be lying in a bed, she thought. And Justin should come in
through the open window and take me … just like that, without a single
word.

Pam closed her eyes, an unspoken sentence on her lips. One part of her
was more afraid than she had ever been before in her life, afraid of
caring too much, of giving everything she had and getting nothing back
in return, of laying her feelings before Justin’s feet, not knowing if
he would kick them aside or bend down to hold them lovingly and caringly
in his cradling arms.

But the other side of her thoughts, the side which had first compelled
her to hold his stare, to move down the hill with the full intention of
meeting Justin, wanted her to cry out to him, to tell him to take her,
to rape her in any way he desired, right then and there.

She could hear his booted feet moving back into the room. But Pam kept
her eyes closed, her breath coming in short shallow gasps, her tits
rising and falling like the lilting strains of music Franck had written
for moments just such as these.

Let him see me like this, she thought. Let him know how open I am, how
vulnerable, naked …

She pictured how he was now standing at the threshold to the room, for
the sound of his heavy footfalls had stopped abruptly. She imagined what
he might be thinking and she smiled to herself just as the footsteps
resumed, coming right in her direction. Still, she made no move to open
her eyes or acknowledge the fact that he was walking right towards her
as she leaned back against the down-filled sofa.

And then it happened, though not like in the dream.

She felt his legs pressing down against her knees and then his lips
moving back and forth against her mouth. She took a deep breath then and
opened her eyes. He was leaning forward, bracing himself with his hands
clutching at the back of the couch.

She looked into his eyes and then smiled as he grinned back at her,
lightly licking her lips with the tip of his outstretched tongue. Her
hands moved up as if invisible balloons were lifting them. And then she
clutched at his arms and responded with all the pent-up passion and
stifled desire she had lived with these past five years.

Justin could not have been more pleased.

He rammed his tongue right between her parted lips, moaning softly as
her fingers slid up and down along his arms. Each passing second made
Pam more impatient. She no longer cared what he might think of her
behavior, of the way she was demanding him to take her, to do whatever
he desired.

Nothing mattered but how she felt and she rubbed her thighs together,
acutely and agonizingly aware of the way her cunt had begun to burn and
itch with feverish impatience and desire. Justin’s tongue slid in and
out of her mouth, licking her lips and palate, her gums and teeth.

Their lips were glued hotly against each other and her fingers slid
higher, up along his arms. His muscles bulged tautly inside of his faded
blue work shirt and the power and strength she had imagined him to
possess was now becoming more and more obvious, exhibiting itself in the
hard bulge of his steely muscles.

Justin slid his tongue out of her mouth and then sucked on her chin,
gently sliding his tongue down along her neck, even as he began to ease
his body into a crouch. He crouched between her legs, flicking his
tongue against her smooth alabaster neck, his knees digging into the
carpeting and his hands now moving from the back of the couch to rest
along Pam’s shoulders.

She felt dazed, dazzled by the swiftness of their meeting, by the fact
that she knew, long before it was going to take place, that they were
destined to go to bed together, destined to explore every inch of each
other’s naked bodies.

And that pleased her to no end. She pushed her crotch forward,
whimpering more excitedly as he sucked and licked her neck, gently
unbuttoning the front of her thin linen blouse. Yes, do it, anything,
she kept telling herself as Justin grew more animated, more impatient,
finally ripping the tails of her blouse out from around the waistband of
her skirt.

She thrust her tits forward, glad that she hadn’t bothered to wear a bra
for her afternoon jaunt to the park. Because now, an instant later, she
felt his lips sucking down over one of her nipples, the edges of his
front teeth nipping and grazing lightly and delightfully along the
entire length of her turgid and stiff-standing berries.

“Yes, oh do that, yes, anything,” she whispered, her body twisting from
side to side as he used his lips with expertise, sucking on one taut
nipple and then the other. He licked and tongued them until they felt on
fire and then he began to stuff one of her tits right between his gaping
lips.

Pam kept looking down, staring at his lowered head as his hands pushed
her jugs closer together and his lips and tongue sucked and slurped with
growing passion and maddened delight. He was doing everything she had
wanted him to do, and performing in a manner which left absolutely
nothing to be desired.

Glancing over his shoulder, she could see the two dogs, the Scottie and
the Doberman, watching what was taking place between their owners. Their
seeming look of interest amused her and Pam giggled, even as the hot
flickers of pleasure began to grow more and more potent.

He wasn’t saying a word, but his caresses spoke far louder than anything
she knew he might say. His fingers were kneading and toying with her
jugs and she had never felt her nipples so inflamed before, so on fire,
tingling as he flicked the tip of his tongue back and forth against one
and then the other, stimulating her with each successive swipe of his
raspy-edged prober.

She was all eyes, having gone without this kind of pleasure for far too
long. The backs of his hands were covered with short black hair and she
imagined that he was a bear, attacking her, ravishing her body with
bestial fervor and animalistic delight.

Like paws, she thought as she watched his fingers moving, tweaking her
love-buds and then trailing ticklishly down along the gentle incline of
her body. He reached for the zipper to her skirt and still she made no
move to stop him, nor would she ever.

“You know me, don’t you?” he asked her then, even as he found the side
zipper to her skirt and yanked it down with a flick of his wrist.

“I … I’ve known you for … for more than five years,” she whispered,
her body shivering involuntarily, a nervous twitch which made her voice
tremble ever so slightly. “In … from a dream. You’ve been coming to me
in a dream, the same dream, over and over again, week after week.”

“If I told you the same thing, I’d only be lying. But it doesn’t really
matter or change anything, because I’m here now, and that’s all that
counts,” he replied, his voice soft and soothing to her ears.

“You’ve been sleepwalking for five years, that’s all,” she said with a
grin. “You come to my window at dawn, pull it open and slide first one
leg and then the other inside. And then, then you …

“Then I what?”

“You … you do it,” she stammered. “You rape me, Justin. You fuck me;
you do everything to me, everything. And I love it, I love it, all of
it, everything.”

He grinned almost devilishly at her emotional outburst and without
saying another word, pulled impatiently at the hem of her skirt. Pam
lifted her ass off of the sofa so that he would be able to pull her
skirt completely off. She was glad she had said what she had, as if it
had been a stone around her neck, weighing her down. He hadn’t laughed
nor had he been anything but highly pleased and flattered.

And now she was ready to make good her words, for even then her skirt
came down and she kicked it off of her ankles, pulling her blouse off
with the same kind of wild sexual impatience her voice had reflected
moments before.

Justin’s dark brooding eyes opened to their farthest limits. He sucked
in his breath as she sat there before him, her naked creamy-white jugs
rising and falling; each rounded melon capped by an exquisite little
finger of taut and erect flesh.

She could see his excitement mirrored on his face, the way he was
literally devouring her with his eyes, gobbling her down like a
succulent sweetmeat, a choice morsel fit for an epicurean feast. His
eyes slid down over her upthrust and firm young breasts, farther still
to the soft rounded hill of her belly.

And then he did exactly what he did in her dream. He threw himself
forward with a loud bull-like roar, a bellow of wild sexual impatience
and maddened physical hunger. His tongue probed the narrow recess of her
navel and then licked down to the waistband of her slim little bikini
briefs.

Pam moaned wildly and thrust her crotch forward. Justin was using his
tongue with an instinctive skill that even Bix had never demonstrated
before. He slid its very tip right underneath the ring of elastic and
then moved it back and forth as if he were loosening her panties,
pulling them off of her merely by the use of his lips and tongue.

He came quite close to that, actually, for a moment later, as she kept
pushing her hips up and down towards his flushed and reddened face, he
grabbed hold of the waistband of her briefs, catching the elastic
between the edges of his front teeth.

She cried out with excitement as he pulled down, using his teeth rather
than his fingers so that she could feel his wet slippery lips grazing
against her naked body. Once again she raised herself up as he tugged
her panties down, succeeding in pulling them past her waist and lush
rounded hips, farther still until his eyes could see the first stray
ringlets of mossy pubic hair which grew thickly and luxuriously across
her meaty box.

“Oh please, please, yes, do it, hurry,” she begged, so impatient that
she couldn’t stop herself from skinning her undies down. She pushed them
past her thighs with both hands and as they fell to her ankles he was
already moving forward, even before she had managed to kick them off of
her legs.

A scream of excitement flew out of her throat the instant he plunged
recklessly forward, his thick sensual lips glued hotly against her
pussy. His warm breath fanned her puffy cunt lips and she was whimpering
and straining, pushing her crotch up against his mouth.

“More, yes, do it, anything,” she blurted out once again, so on fire
that she couldn’t pull her thoughts together. The room reeled around her
as if she was riding a horse on a carousel, a merry-go-round of spinning
whirling erotic intensity.

Never before, not even when she had known what it was to be in love,
five years earlier, had Pam Harper ever been so aroused, so sexually
stimulated, so maddened by the artful caresses and erotic skills of a
man.

It was all new to her and she spread her thighs demandingly wide,
watching the way his tongue slid around her hairy cunt, licking every
tendril of blonde pubic fur, sucking on the twin slippery lobes of flesh
whose inner secrets he now sought out. Justin rammed his bristling
invading tongue right down into her crimson gash and the scarlet wet
wound of her cunt furrow dilated visibly, even before she grabbed hold
of the top of his head and pushed his mouth down even more firmly
against her pussy.

“Please, yes, eat me, eat me,” she whimpered, so out of control by now
that she couldn’t believe this was all happening to her, finally and at
long last.

But it was no dream and she didn’t have to pinch herself or scream out
to awaken from her reveries. She had gone home with a young man whom she
knew nothing about, a young man named Justin Whitlock. But if she did
not know who he really was, or what he did with his life, or what his
goals and aspirations might be, she still knew him from all those
fancied moments when he had snuck into her bedroom to take her in the
stillness of early morning.

And now, the last thing she wanted him to do was stop his frenzied oral
caresses to sit back and calmly recite the story of his life. Needless
to say, that was not what Justin intended to do. Not now, in any event.

Chapter 3

This was no dream, no reverie, no imagined meeting.

It had happened and now Justin Whitlock was just as inflamed as Pam
Harper. He stroked the tops of her smooth white thighs, glad that she
hadn’t been wearing stockings or panty hose, glad that he could caress
and massage her tender and supple flesh.

And even as he caressed her, his tongue was digging deeper into her
cunt, lapping up the hot spicy rivulets of sap, which were streaming
down the fluttering walls of her swampy twat. He had seen the liquid
stain of cunt juice that had covered the front of her panties and he
knew how aroused she had become.

The intensity of her response, the way she was holding his head down and
writhing back and forth so that his tongue hit against one smooth
slippery cunt wall and then the other, pleased him to no end. He was
determined to arouse her until she would be insane, unable to control
herself.

And so now he strummed her body as if he was a musician getting
harmonies and chords from an instrument. His fingers tickled the insides
of her thighs, finally sliding higher until he was able to take hold of
the edges of her thin girlish cunt lips.

These were no scarlet rooster combs of flabby drooping flesh, but taut
elastic lapels that he now eased back, stretching them wide as butterfly
wings. Pam thrust her crotch up again and again and when she let go of
his head, Justin eased his tongue back. He lifted his face and stared
down at her meaty box.

Between a narrow and gristly set of cunt lips he could see the swollen
meaty button of her clit and it was to this delectable tidbit that he
now centered his attentions. He rammed his face down with rising
impatience, nipping at her clit so that she could not stop moaning and
crying out with pleasure.

Her cunt gave off a strong heady odor, at once musky and pungent. And
her juices tasted salty and spicy against his lips and tongue. Delighted
with the way she was responding, he kept at it, nipping and frictioning
his teeth and tongue against the tender shaft of her clitoris, then
ramming his tongue as far inside of her tight girlish split as he could.

Her vaginal muscles jerked against his invading tongue, nipping at it
with such conclusive force that he knew she was going to prove to be
even more wild and arousing when they were in bed together. And that,
needless to say, was something he didn’t doubt would happen whenever he
was ready to make the move.

But what he knew she still didn’t understand were the kind of things he
wanted done to her, the lurid sexual acts he had long imagined, never
having been able to see them brought to life, consummated before his
wide and staring eyes. Something told him that Pam would do anything he
wanted, that the heated excesses of her sexual reaction were a product
not only of his erotic skill, but also because she had fallen for him,
head over heels.

That she seemed to be in love, or at least infatuated, certainly was no
hindrance. And though he was yet to experience the same kind of
breathless emotional involvement, his physical appetites were just as
overheated and insatiable as hers.

Behind the front of his faded blue jeans he could feel how his cock was
jerking angrily. It thrust out like a bar of steel against his fly,
imprisoned, stifled inside of his dungarees. He wore no underwear and,
as a result, he was acutely aware of how clammy and sweaty his groin had
become, pre-come dribbling out of the bulbous and blood-engorged head of
his tool to seep over his pubes and soak into the denim material of his
jeans.

But Justin was a young man who knew how to exercise proper control; at
least when sex was involved. He wasn’t worried about coming in his
pants, though not because he feared he wouldn’t be able to climax a
second time, but simply because he had trained himself to hold back
until the last possible moment.

As a result, women had always found his sexual pyrotechnics unbeatable.
His ability to sustain an erection without any artificial devices, his
skill at holding his orgasm back until he had milked a woman of several
climaxes, one right after the other, had all stood him in good stead
with the women who had passed in and out of his life.

And Pam, he knew was not going to be the exception to the rule. He could
feel how she was shuddering, how her vaginal muscles had already gone
out of control, signaling her imminent release. But he did not want to
milk her of an orgasm, not yet at any rate.

No, there would be time enough for that, when the moment was right. So
he finally eased his probing licking tongue from out of her cooze,
tickling her clitoris and then lifting his sweaty face. He let go of her
cunt lips and they sprang elastically back, their hairy outer edges all
wet and glistening, slippery with a mixture of saliva and cunt juice.

Pam slumped back against the couch, breathless and wild-eyed. She had no
idea why Justin had stopped, especially when she had been riding a kind
of stoned sexual rush, floating up towards the very moment of release.

But that, needless to say, was all part of his technique.

He edged back to rock against his knees and the backs of his legs,
taking her in with a single wide and all-encompassing stare. She was
naked, her flesh glistening and white, dewdrops not only beading the
furry triangle that marked her tender mons veneris, but also dotting the
fine down along her upper lip and right below her hairline.

Her breasts rose and fell and he saw her then as the very
personification of tenderness and vulnerability. “I … I don’t know
what to say,” she whispered when she had recovered a modicum of
self-composure.

“Don’t say anything … just do,” he replied in a whisper, as if he
didn’t want to break the spell that had been cast between them. He got
abruptly to his feet to turn over the record, for Franck’s symphony had
come to its side one halt just moments after he had finally slid his
tongue out of her juicy little muff.

And as he rose up before her, Pamela Harper’s eyes opened even wider
than before. She was now able to see that which she had tried to glimpse
earlier. And what she saw, she liked, plain and simple. Justin caught
her staring, held himself steady, facing her like that for a silent
moment before turning around to change the record.

But the few seconds he had stood there, frozen and unmoving in space and
time, had enabled Pam to see what she had lusted after.

There could be no doubt in her mind that he was as well equipped as she
had always imagined … no, felt … her dream-image to be. Behind the
front of his provocative skintight jeans she had seen the long swollen
outline of his cock and she wanted to throw herself at his feet the way
he had done to her. Not slavishly, but merely so that she would be able
to lunge forward and rip his jeans off, feasting upon the thick bloated
length of his manly cock.

Justin had exactly the same thought in mind.

He turned the disc over to side two. The second movement Allegretto
began, its moderately fast tempo setting the rhythm for the delicious
bout of fellatio he planned to enjoy. That she would be ready and
willing was something he didn’t doubt for one second and when he turned
back to her, he thrust his crotch forward as if to demand she gape and
stare at the silhouette of his rigid and throbbing hard-on.

His dick had slipped down along the inside of one dungaree leg. The
denim was tented out so distinctly that Pam had no difficulty making out
the exact dimensions of Justin’s turgid member, even down to the shape
of his leaking glans and the slight depression at the neck of his cock.

His rounded stones seemed full and loose, a swollen bag she could see
stuffed–no doubt uncomfortably, she supposed–inside the crotch of his
jeans. “Is it crazy that I’m staring?” she asked.

“By whose standards? You dig looking at it–cool. You dig playing with
it, even better,” Justin told her.

He sauntered forward, half play-acting, half-serious. But he was totally
earnest about having her rub her lips and tongue over his boner and no
sooner had he moved in front of her than Pam lost the last vestiges of
her self-control.

She lunged forward, nearly toppling him over. Her hands clawed at the
front of his jeans and she slid her horny fingers up and down the inside
of his stuffed trouser leg, fondling the stiff and steely projection
that was his pulsating cunt-rammer.

Justin smiled to himself; delighted with the intensity of her reaction,
with the way she was really anxious to have him. She rapidly unbuttoned
and unzipped his jeans, not even thinking of what she was doing. Having
sex with Bix was one thing. But this was something else, neither better
nor worse. Just different …

But the gist of it was that she had gone without this kind of
“difference” for far too long. Now, it was as if Pam Harper was making
up for lost time. She pulled his fly open and rather than reaching
inside to haul out the stiff projection of his dick, she shoved his
tight faded jeans down off of his waist and hips.

Justin watched her, a smile of pleasure etched across his lips. Her
flushed naked body beckoned to him, calling out as he gazed at the musty
smelling tangle of blonde fur that covered her thin yet puffy labia.

The folds of meat clung to each other and pictured the pleasure that
would soon be his when he peeled them wide again. Only then, it would be
as a result of the insistent invading pressure of his cock, not his
fingers.

She tugged more vigorously, surprised that his jeans were as
tight-fitting as they looked, difficult to remove as if he had worn them
in the bath to get them to shrink to the very lines and proportions of
his burly figure.

And then, even before she was rewarded with the sight and feel of his
cock, even as he pulled off his faded blue work shirt, she was able to
see the damp thick forest of his wiry black pubic hair. It made a thin
furry line down over his flat washboard stomach and the hollow
depression of his navel. Then, it thickened abruptly, fanning out across
his groin, barely concealing the braided blue veins along his crotch.

Then the jeans were pulled lower and seconds before his dick was
released, she was able to stare at it as if she had never seen a man’s
organ in all of her life. It had been a long time, in actuality, and
though she couldn’t say that she had forgotten what a penis looked like,
she still stared as if she had never seen one before, or at least, never
one as vigorously proportioned as that which Justin Whitlock now
sported.

“Pull ’em down,” he said with a note of impatience. He was shuddering,
wanting her to suck him off before they would really get down to
business. The latter was going to be a surprise, he decided. But first
he fully intended to enjoy the wet slobbering embrace of her horny
little mouth.

Pam certainly wasn’t adverse to opening her lips wide and taking in as
much of his dick as she possibly could. So her fingers pulled his jeans
still lower until she had freed his cock. It sprang out at her like an
uncoiling spring, the bulbous cap of his penis hitting her right across
the lips.

After that, nothing seemed in the least bit surprising.

She didn’t even have time to stare, to take in the details of his
genitalia. Almost as if the motion was a reflex action, she opened her
mouth, her jaws aching as she thrust her reddened and eager young face
right down over the leaking head of Justin’s penis.

“Perfect, perfect,” he groaned, swiveling back and forth so that his
glans banged against one side of her mouth and then the other. He didn’t
rush into things, nor push forward to greedily and excitedly impale her
mouth over the entire length of his swollen member.

No, for he took his time, letting her get used to the virile dimensions
of his manly rod. He could see how she was straining, how her lips were
spread grotesquely wide, no doubt wider than she had ever opened her
mouth before.

His cock was nearly as thick around as her girlish wrist and Pam was
doubly amazed by its sheer length and breadth. Seven inches had always
seemed large and certainly adequate. Eight inches of surging manflesh
had been tried only once before. But Whitlock was hung to the length of
nearly nine hard inches and the additional thickness of his throbbing
member made it doubly difficult for her to get her lips all the way
around his gristly cock-shaft.

“Take your time … and use your tongue,” he whispered. He bent his
knees slightly and kept his hands on his hips, his fingers dangling down
towards the deep inguinal indentations that set his crotch off from his
thighs and belly.

She slid her head closer, feeling the way she was taking in more and
more of his joystick. And when the head of his cock banged against the
back of her throat she gagged slightly and stopped, trying to grow
accustomed to the unusually energetic dimensions of Justin’s penis.

He is the guy in the dream, she told herself, for even down to this, the
size of his dick, he had not disappointed her or proven to be in any way
different from that silent stranger whom she had known through her
fantasies, the jean-clad figure who stepped into her bedroom for his
ritualistic round of early morning rape and forced sex.

This too was almost forced, but she rather enjoyed that as well. He
didn’t grab hold of the back of her head the way she had done to him,
but stood there, almost cocky, his hands on his hips and his penis
buried a good six or so inches between her tightly clinging lips.

She couldn’t take in the entire length; having never learned how to
avoid gagging when her mouth was so completely filled. But he didn’t
thrust or jerk forward. Rather, he slid his pecker halfway out, savoring
the friction and tactile stimulation produced as he grazed his shaft
along the edges of her small even white teeth.

She slapped her tongue along the ridge of muscle that bulged out on the
underside of his tool and as she pressed her knees down onto the carpet,
kneeling before him, her fingers reached down to lift up the dangling
weight of his hairy scrotal sac.

His balls were like hen’s eggs, heavy and filled with come. She ran her
fingers over the folds of wrinkled flesh and let his sac dangle against
the palm of one hand. And then she explored the muscular expanse of his
hairy thighs, loving the very sense of strength, of power and
animalistic fury, which seemed to be radiating from his body.

Justin had seen chicks go wild over him in the past, but none had ever
carried on the way Pam Harper was doing. He didn’t fully understand
where he stood in the scheme of things, the true importance of being the
reincarnation of her dream-figure. But even if he didn’t understand what
she was going through, he certainly could comprehend the way she was
deriving just as much pleasure as he was. She shoved her face back and
forth, slamming her mouth over his bulging dong so that the head of his
cock tickled her tonsils and bent them back.

His tool was leaking pre-come at an almost alarming rate. The
bittersweet oily fluid slid down her throat and she inhaled deeply,
getting off on the smells of his body, just as he had enjoyed sucking up
the heady scent of her pungent muff.

His crotch exuded a musty and sweaty aroma, piquant and intoxicating.
Here was a man, she thought to herself, a man who would bring her out of
herself, who would give her love and security and the pleasures of the
flesh.

He made her feel more like a woman than anyone she had ever known and
she slid her hands up along his wide-set thighs, moved them around and
finally grabbed the tight muscular cheeks of his boyish ass, one in each
hand.

She pulled him closer to her then, squeezing his buns, feeling the way
they were hard and firm, silken as a result of the almost invisible
gossamer down which grew over his rump. By this time, her cunt was
leaking copiously and hot drools of sap trickled down along the insides
of her shuddering thighs.

She could feel her sexual appetites flaring up and she wanted to jump up
on him, wrap her legs around his waist and ass and let him slam his
pecker right into her pussy, impaling her on his sword-like cock. Then,
so she imagined at the moment, he would carry her around the room and
she would feel the full length and thickness of his penis sliding in and
out of her cooze, setting her passions on fire, milking her of every
last ounce of erotic bliss.

She pulled her head back until just the plum-shaped glans was stuffed
between her lips. Her tongue probed the slit of his piss-hole, tasting
more pre-seminal fluid as he rocked back and forth, his jeans down
around the tops of his cowboy boots and his body naked and shiny with
sweat.

She looked up at him then and he was staring down at her with a grin
across his thick sensual lips. The hard virile lines of his burly torso
enticed her and she studied the definition of muscles that traversed his
chest, pleased to see that he was the bear she had hoped he would be.

As with animals, his torso was covered with a thick luxuriant pelt of
jet-black body hair, chest hair, which fanned out over his pectorals and
nipples and then tapered down to a V which became a narrow line over his
belly, thickening again at his groin. It was a pattern, like the pattern
of fur along Bix’s belly and the more she looked up at him, the more
animalistic and savage he seemed to become.

Having satisfied her sexual urges through the use of Bix’s thin
carrot-shaped penis, she now was contemplating satisfying her libidinal
needs with a bear, a gorilla, a man-ape. His features grew blurry,
wavering before her eyes and she smiled to herself, knowing then that he
was no ordinary man, that he had begun to release the animal she had
long known to be lurking right underneath the surface of his skin.

Animals reacted instinctively, maddened by the grunts and smells of sex.
So Pam kept licking Justin’s boner until he too was sobbing with
pleasure, his chest heaving as he sucked in his breath and gasped with
astonished delight, amazed at the skill she was demonstrating, the
expertise of using her lips and tongue to give him incredibly potent
erotic delight.

She’ll love it, all of it, everything I have planned for us, he told
himself then, knowing it was high time they got started. He glanced over
his shoulder, not surprised to see how the Scottie and the Doberman
pinscher were sitting there across the room, their tongues hanging out,
drool collecting on the carpet and their eyes riveted to their two
owners.

Their look of intense concentration was one thing. But what intrigued
him more was another facet of their canine interest and curiosity. He
was certain that both dogs could easily smell the sexual aromas, which
emanated from his as well as Pam’s body. And when he looked lower,
squinting slightly since they were half-hidden in shadow, he smiled to
himself and knew that everything was going to work out just fine,
exactly the way he had long imagined.

He too was a person fond of fantasies, erotic daydreams in particular.
And one of these numerous recurring sexual reveries centered upon a man,
a girl, and a dog. Now, he was the man. Pam was the ripe and succulent
young woman, and Holmes–and even Bix, he decided in a flash–was the
dog.

For now, arching up along the underside of the pinscher’s liver-hued and
short-coated belly, was the hard bony length of his half-exposed penis.
Having seen and felt the Doberman’s pecker in the past, Justin knew
exactly how long it could grow. In fact, he had once measured it out of
curiosity, pleased and surprised when the ruler had declared that at its
fullest, Holmes’ reddened and slippery cock was exactly seven inches
long, from the base of its hairy sheath to the pointy triangular head.

Although just about as thick around as his middle finger, its hard
spike-like length would suit his purposes admirably. Now, as he
continued to shudder and experience the pleasurable rushes that Pam was
enabling him to feel, he winked at Holmes and nodded his head at the
same time.

As with Bix, the Doberman was well trained. No sooner had its master
nodded his head, when he got to his feet, stretched for a moment and
then trotted obediently forward, his long wet tongue hanging out from
between his jowls.

Pam was so involved in sucking off Justin that she didn’t even see the
Doberman moving forward across the room. She had let go of his buns,
sliding her fingers back around so that even as she rubbed the swollen
and leaking cock head against her lips and tongue, she was able to slide
her fingers up and down along the hard jutting length of his ivory-white
cockshaft.

Blue veins corded the muscular surface and she pulled his cock down so
that instead of rising up nearly parallel to his lean washboard stomach,
it now made a ninety-degree angle from his belly, pointed and aimed
right between her lips.

Justin smiled wickedly to himself and motioned Holmes to move around. It
was not so much a question of canine intelligence as it was simply a
matter of instinct. The dog’s naturally inquisitive nature, coupled with
the training it had received from its master, enabled Holmes to make all
the right choices.

Foam flecked his jowls and the air was steamy with the odor of sweaty
randy naked bodies. Justin managed to pull his boots off so that he
could step out of his jeans and be as stark and invitingly naked as Pam
Harper.

And no sooner had this been accomplished than he slowly sank down onto
his own knees, forcing Pam to lean forward until she had to press her
palms flat against the carpet. She was now on her hands and knees; still
sucking on his burning joystick.

“Don’t stop, not yet,” he muttered hotly, goading her on, thrusting
gently yet insistently forward so that once again her mouth was filled
with more than half the length of his hard and throbbing member.

It was then that Holmes got into the act, just the way Justin Whitlock
had long imagined. No sooner had Pam positioned herself on her hands and
knees, oblivious to anything but Justin’s hairy crotch and the promise
of sexual pleasure his huge burning organ would soon be giving her, when
the Doberman moved around and suddenly jumped up onto Pam’s back.

Pam gave a muffled scream of surprise, her cry stifled since she still
had Justin’s dick moving in and out of her mouth. Immediately, sensing
her rising panic, he grabbed hold of her shoulders to steady her and pin
her down to the floor.

“Just relax. You’ll love it,” he said hotly, glad that he had cut
Holmes’ nails just the day before. They were short and filed smooth so
he knew that she certainly wasn’t going to feel any pain from his claws.

Meanwhile, even as she tried to jerk backwards, feeling the weight of
the Doberman’s powerfully muscled body bearing down along her back,
Holmes was jerking blindly forward, baying and howling as he thrust
impatiently, trying to ram his fully exposed and glistening wet pecker
right between the lips of Pam Harper’s overheated cooze.

Her anus would have been easier to penetrate, but now, for this first
experience, Justin wanted her to feel the dog’s cock surging in and out
of her snatch. That she had enjoyed this kind of bestial activity with
her own dog, Bix, was something he still knew nothing about.

As for Pam, she was indeed panic-stricken, trying to pull free, not
understanding what was taking place, if the dog had done this on its own
accord or if Justin had really planned it to happen this way. The fact
that he was holding her down on the floor, thrusting forward so that the
head of his thick dick actually passed into her throat, soon made it
quite clear that even if Holmes had acted instinctively, Justin did not
intend to see her put a stop to the Doberman’s frenzied bout of canine
balling.

“Come on, relax. It won’t hurt,” he told her then, greedy to see the act
through to the bitter end. His pubes nuzzled her lips and cheeks and she
was choking on his pulsating organ while, right behind her, Holmes was
barking frantically, still trying to shove his long thin pencil of a
cock down into place.

Justin decided to act and he let go of her, keeping one hand on the back
of her neck so she couldn’t pull free. Pam kept gasping, but even then
Justin was reaching down between her legs, bending forward so that he
was able to grab hold of the edges of the Doberman’s slick wet pecker.

It took all of five seconds for him to shove the pointy head of the
animal’s penis right between the puffy dilated lips of Pam Harper’s
muff. And the instant that Holmes’ dong made contact, he let go and
reached back to hold her down on the floor.

Only now, he was the victim of surprise, not Pam. For no sooner had
Holmes succeeded through Justin Whitlock’s help in ramming all seven
carrot-shaped inches of dog-cock into place, when she gave up and sank
down, whimpering with undeniable pleasure, her muted gurgles audible
even as her tongue lashed defiantly up and down along the bloated length
of his penis.

He slid his boner back until just the head was within her mouth. And
then that too slid out into the open as he leaned forward and relaxed
his grip on her shoulders, knowing that she was not about to stop the
Doberman from finishing what he had started.

That could not be denied. She had enjoyed Bix’s canine attentions ever
since the Scottie was a pup. But Bix’s equipment was not nearly as long
and dagger-like as the Doberman’s bony tool. And now, it felt like a
super-long finger was pumping in and out of her cooze.

She tightened her vaginal muscles as best she could, able to feel the
dog’s cock striking against one wet cunt wall and then the other.

Hot trickles of sap drooled down and the friction his dick was producing
was getting her off in no time at all.

A low-pitched moan escaped her lips and Justin was frankly astonished
that she was enjoying herself so much. He had always imagined a contest
of wills, a show of brute physical force, the girl he had pictured in
his recurring bestial fantasy always putting up a fight, though loving
it in the end.

But now, Pam was loving it, almost right from the start. He slid back
and moved around as she kept whimpering, kneeling there on the floor
while behind her, bucking and heaving and jabbing in and out with short
precise strokes, Holmes continued to hammer his bony dick as far inside
of her cunt as its length would allow.

Justin was wild-eyed. He gasped almost as loudly as Pam, pulled Bix out
of the way when the inquisitive terrier trotted forward to see what was
happening, and then bent his head down to look between Pam Harper’s
shuddering thighs. Sure enough, he could see the naked red length of
Holmes’ penis sliding in and out; right between the puffy lips of her
girlish split.

“How does it feel?” he asked, breathless too, shaking as the scene began
to effect him like an aphrodisiac.

“Yes, do it, harder, harder!” she screamed, oblivious to anything but
the raw savage pleasure of the moment. Everything was working in unison,
the tactility of the dog’s smooth belly rubbing against her jiggling ass
and back, the way his tight furry balls tickled her bum furrow and, most
of all, the intense searing ecstasy of feeling the Doberman’s penis
sliding frantically in and out of her gaping split.

Once again she squeezed her vaginal muscles, trying to make her pussy as
tight and narrow as possible, thus giving her the utmost in sexual
pleasure. As for the dog, Holmes was far too incensed to slow down or
change the rhythm of his strokes.

The knot along the base of his bony dick frictioned searingly against
Pam’s swollen clit and she howled just like a bitch in heat, loving the
way she was getting fucked dog-fashion from the rear, getting balled by
a savage barking Doberman pinscher.

That Justin had wanted this to happen no longer seemed of any importance
whatsoever. Any second and she knew she would come and now she didn’t
hold back, letting go and flowing with the rising tide of bliss which
was swiftly engulfing her body.

Justin kept staring, moving this way and that on the floor so that he
was able to view the bestial scene from every angle, from the side, from
down between her legs, from behind Holmes. The Doberman kept yapping,
his hindquarters jerking and bucking again and again.

And the more he fucked her, the more aroused she became. A minute or two
later she couldn’t hold back and a loud scream of delight flew out of
her throat.

Her body was glowing and she shuddered more violently, coming in a great
rush of supercharged ecstasy. The swiftness of this, her first climax,
only served to inflame Justin’s passions to the boiling point. Quickly,
hardly thinking of what he was doing, he grabbed hold of a startled Bix
and pulled the Scottie over until the black-haired terrier was crouched
right in front of his naked body.

Something told him that his moves would not be rebuffed or
misunderstood, that Bix was well aware of what Justin expected from him.
Indeed, no sooner had he shoved his hairy crotch forward when the
Scottie’s tongue lashed over his pendulous balls, thrilling Justin to
the quick.

“Good boy, yeah, do it,” he panted, even as Pam continued to shudder and
writhe, her face contorted in a paroxysm of lusty sexual release. She
was coming, one clitoral orgasm merging with another. And Holmes didn’t
appear to slow down or approach the point of ejaculation.

The Doberman kept at it while, at the same time, Bix was now openly
licking the hairy outer surface of Justin’s heavy come-filled balls,
slobbering over his nuts and even trying to wiggle an inquisitive wet
nose right underneath the young man’s balls to get at his brown puckered
asshole.

The gamy ripe smell of his anus no doubt turned Bix on, or at least made
him curious enough to want to explore further. Justin certainly wasn’t
going to put a stop to that either. Still keeping an eye on Pam, he
leaned back, rested on one hand and squatted so that Bix was able to
wiggle underneath him, his raspy-edged tongue striking right along
Justin’s hairy bum furrow.

“Good boy, do it, come, keep coming!” Justin cried out, speaking to the
terrier and to Pam Harper, both at the same time. He spit into the palm
of his hand, not about to interrupt her as she continued to come.

He knew from past experience that Holmes was rapidly approaching his own
point of no return, ready to send his thin yellow dog-come splashing
down into the churning depths of Pam’s overheated quim. Justin couldn’t
wait to see that happen and he wanted to come as well, to cream just
when his dog did.

So he rubbed his slobber up and down the length of his shuddering
hard-on, lubricating his hard column of meat. His fingers slid up and
down, his palm rotated over his glans while, between his legs, Bix was
trying to invade his ripe gamy asshole.

Unable to pull his buns apart, for he was balancing himself by pressing
one hand down against the carpeted floor, he could only thrust his ass
forward, hoping that Bix would get excited enough to push his tongue
more forcefully between his muscular buns. Sure enough, that was exactly
what happened.

Bix’s tongue slapped against the hairy corrugated folds of Justin’s
manly asshole while, at the same time, Pam was moaning and shuddering,
experiencing the after-throes of her tumultuous multi-orgasmic release.
With reddened and dazed eyes she glanced over at Justin, not surprised
in the least to see what he and Bix were doing.

The dog was shoving his face down against Justin’s backside while
Whitlock kept jerking himself off. And then, even before Justin could
get off, the Doberman suddenly snarled savagely and stiffened, the first
hot wads of his dog-come surging out like molten bullets.

She could feel the muscular contractions of the dog’s ejaculating cock
and the knot of his prostate gland rubbed more strenuously and almost
abrasively against her inflamed clitoris. She sank down, exhausted and
completely fulfilled. More and more thin dribbly yellow dog semen
spurted out of Holmes’ deeply buried pecker, lubricating her already wet
and swampy twat.

Justin was wild-eyed, delighted with Holmes’ display of canine sexual
ecstasy. Here, at long last, his fantasies had been put to the test,
reality substituted for personal daydreams. And it was even better and
far more arousing than he had ever dared to imagine. The sight finally
triggered his own pent-up release. Bix was still licking and tonguing
his bottom-hole when Justin stiffened and screamed out with demonic
force and wild delight. “Oh shit, watch me, watch me coming, watch!” he
groaned as he gripped the base of his throbbing member, squeezed it
hotly and watched the first thick wads of his jism spurting out of the
head of his cumbersome weapon.

Pam just kept gaping, even as Holmes began to quiet down. To see Justin
coming, to see how creamy-white bullets of jism spurted thickly out of
his cock and into the air, splashing at his feet like raindrops, aroused
her beyond belief. There was something as equally bestial in his
performance too, as if she was watching a monkey at the zoo,
masturbating and performing before her startled yet delighted eyes.

Delight was certainly what Justin Whitlock was experiencing. And the
look of pleasure he saw mirrored on Pam’s face turned him on all the
more. Her excitement reflected his own wild pleasure and he kept milking
his tool, one thick spurt of semen followed by another until he had
succeeded in draining his balls of every last hot drop of come they had
held.

Finally, Justin sank back and rested on his elbows. Bix was still
licking and tonguing his asshole and Whitlock smiled dreamily at Pam
Harper, absolutely content and pleased with himself and the way
everything had worked out exactly the way he had long desired. He made
no attempt to push Bix aside and right then and there, Justin knew that
the Scottie had been just as cleverly trained as Holmes, that he had met
someone who shared his same wild passion for bestiality and torrid
animal sex.

Needless to say, he couldn’t have been more pleased.

Chapter 4

“I’d just turned fifteen and Sparky was a stupid name, but I was a kid.
Besides, he was a pretty stupid cocker spaniel. Except that he had a
tongue on him that went on for days,” she giggled, accepting his offer
of a joint as they sat cross-legged on the floor, knees touching, eyes
drilling right into each other.

“Go on. I’m listening,” Justin replied, waiting for her to inhale some
grass before he took the joint back from her. He was already cresting a
high, stoned on the dope and stoned on her sheer physical presence. It
was as if there was so much to catch up on and he was content to watch
her as she spoke, to listen to her telling him about the first time she
had had sex with an animal.

“So there I was, fifteen; the product of a bloody awful first fuck with
this jock prick in high school named … yeah, I still remember. His
name was Barry Galena and he was a shithead, Justin, a real stupid ass,”
Pam went on, rushing from the dope and becoming just as stoned as he
was. “So anyway, I was alone in my room with Sparky and well, I don’t
know, he started licking me when I was playing with him. It was right
before I was ready to go to bed. And … and I liked it, that’s the
point I’m trying to bring out. I really dug feeling his tongue going in
and out of my cunt.”

“Did you let him fuck you that night?”

Pam nodded her head, a blush creeping across her cheeks. She had never
told anyone about this before, not even her closest friends. But in
front of Justin it seemed perfectly normal. Indeed, that’s just what he
had called it after they had recovered from their searing bout of
bestial sex.

“It’s cool, normal. You dig it; I dig it so there’s no hassle. What two
consenting adults and two consenting dogs do in the privacy of their own
home is their business and their business only,” he had told her,
half-joking but totally serious in his intent.

She believed him. Or at least, she wanted to believe him. But it was
still strange talking about it, describing how she had “discovered”
Sparky’s cock, how she had rubbed her fingers up and down his hairy
sheath until his slim pink doodle had slid out into the open and how,
when she had gotten it all the way out into the open, she had turned
over, letting the dog take over from there.

“And he did it. He didn’t have to be told or even pushed into place,”
she went on. “And all the while I was loving it and thinking that it
served Barry right for taking my cherry the way he had, so violently …
so lacking in feeling that when he had finished … and I hadn’t even
come, besides … I felt used, like a dirty piece of toilet paper.

“But Sparky was devoid of emotions; He was an animal and what he did to
me was just plain animal sex. I didn’t have to communicate with him, or
even trust his loyalties. I just let him pound his dick in and out of my
cunt and that night I came, came like I’d never come before.

“It was just … just unreal,” she concluded. “But it’s silly talking
about it, isn’t it. I mean, I had that dream about you, a man I mean.
Not a dog, for God sakes.”

“I haven’t told you what ol’ Holmes here does for me on occasion,”
Justin announced as soon as she had finished.

“What?”

“Guess.”

“No, I can’t, that’s unfair,” Pam giggled. “Wait … I know. He … he
goes down on you, right? You’ve trained him to suck you off, and rim
you, too,” she added quickly. ” Just the way Bix does for me. Is that
it? Did I guess right?”

“Well,” he hesitated, grinning at her and loving everything that was
happening. “You’re halfway right. I mean, he does do all that, lick my
cock and slurp my come down, to be gross about it. But he does something
even more way-out than just all that tonguing shit.”

“What?”

“Well, you don’t expect me to describe it; do you? I mean, I’ll just
have to get him to do it to me. Would you dig that, Pam?” he asked.

She nodded her head, stoned and feeling like a little girl, playing
house. There they were, sitting cross-legged on the carpet, stark naked
and now stoned and delighted to just be able to stare at each other. Pam
couldn’t stop looking at Justin and though she was yet to experience the
pleasure of feeling his cock tunneling in and out of her pussy, she knew
that before he walked her back to her apartment that part of their
affair would be consummated. And consummated to the point of absolute
success and sheer exhausted delight.

She had recovered her strength and her sexual appetites, blocked for
what seemed like a lifetime, rather than five years on and off, were
more insatiable than ever. She gazed in awe at his hard muscled body,
the planes of his torso, the ringlets of black chest hair. And drooping
down so that the head touched the floor, his limp yet sizable cock made
her eyes open wide with lust and desire. It was draped over his balls,
limp yet not shriveled as she had noticed so many other cocks got when
they were detumescent. Justin’s pecker was all white and smooth and she
could tell from its size that once it got erect again, it was going to
be just as impressive as she had first thought.

Unable to resist, she reached out, lifted it up off of his balls and
fondled it in one hand. He sighed with stoned delight and his red-rimmed
eyes drilled into her, still able to see the thin yellowish clots of
drying dog-come which adhered to her blonde pubic nest.

He knew she would freak out when she discovered what he had taught
Holmes to do to him. Few chicks were into any of this kind of sexplay,
but Pamela was right there with him, sharing his taste for all that was
bizarre and bestial.

“That feels so good, the way you just tickle my meat,” he whispered,
licking his lips and then wiggling his tongue at her.

Her nipples were still hard, taut little cones that projected from the
ends of her knockers. They were surrounded by the rosy-red flesh of her
aureoles, small as silver dollars. The smooth lines of her figure, the
lushness of her hips and the tight gripping warmth he knew her cunt was
capable of exerting, all combined to arouse him in no time at all.

And the more he stared at her, the more secure within herself Pam
became. She stroked lightly, gently, sliding her fingers back and forth;
threading them through the wiry thicket of coarse black hair that grew
around his thickening member. It delighted to watch his peter grow, to
increase in length and width.

She was inducing this growth and for the moment she ignored the two
dogs, even her own curiosity about what he had taught Holmes to do.
Whatever it was, she didn’t doubt for one minute that it would be just
as exciting as what had happened earlier. But now, she wanted to feel
his cock moving inside of her, not an animal’s.

Justin leaned back and stretched one and then the other leg out
alongside of her. He threw his head back and closed his eyes;
concentrating on the pleasure she was giving him.

His palms pressed down onto the carpeted floor and he thrust his crotch
up demandingly. By this time, his cock was almost fully erect, filling
her hand with its surging strength and warmth.

Quickly, Pam drooled into the palm of one hand and used her saliva to
lubricate the smooth vein-braided surface of Justin’s dick. The rounded
head of his cock continued to engorge with blood until it was a
veritable swollen plum, bulbous and velvety to the touch.

Even his balls seemed to fill out, some of the wrinkled folds along his
scrotum disappearing so that his nuts seemed to grow more tight and
firm. But the minute his cock became fully engorged, Pam replaced her
hand with something infinitely more pleasurable and exciting.

She squatted so that she was soon enough crouching, right over his lap.
His dick jerked as he contracted his muscles and then he opened his
eyes, it was to smile at her, knowing what it was she intended to do.
“Take your time,” he whispered.

“I intend to,” she said, even as she moved forward, aiming her
paintbrush of blonde pubic fur right over the straining and swollen cap
of his pecker.

She reached down, took hold of his dong and pushed forward at the same
time, aligning her cunt with the leaking glans of his penis. Justin
didn’t move a muscle, all eyes to her delightful display of sexuality.
It was perfect to just lay back and let her call the shots, to act the
role of aggressive and dominant one for a change.

Already, her juices were seeping down to lubricate her cooze; the
yellowish dog-come adding to the natural moistness of her swampy cleft.
She pushed forward until she was able to rub the head of his penis back
and forth against her cunt split. An ache of searing pleasure shot
through her body and with her other hand, still crouching there so that
her buns grazed against the tops of his thighs; Pam pulled apart the top
edge of her cunt furrow. She spread her lips wide so that her pulpy
little clit could now be seen, touching the surface of his meat.

She groaned more hotly then, the tactile stimulation arousing her
passions to the boiling point. And still Justin didn’t move, content to
lie back and watch her as she thrust down with a sudden surge of
maddened desire.

“Oh shit, shit yes, yes!” she screamed, incoherent now as she sought to
stuff the head of his penis right into her cooze. She pushed down a
second time, let go of her cunt lips and then watched and felt the way
her tender vaginal lapels were pulled tautly back. The pressure of his
cock thrilled her to the quick and his glans was rubbing more briskly,
back and forth against her swollen clitoris.

“It’s so good. I can’t stand it,” Pam whimpered, struggling to thrust
forward. She pressed her hands flat against his shoulders and lunged
down, wiggling left and right and feeling his dick sliding deeper,
passing from her vulva into her vaginal canal.

Justin groaned just as hellishly, loving what he had suspected would be
a tight juicy quim. It was proving to be just that, tight and
deliciously gripping. He could feel the way his cock was tunneling
deeper and deeper into her muff. His shaft rubbed along her wet and
slippery vaginal walls and the dog-come, which still adhered to her cunt
flesh, only served to heighten the swampy wetness of her pussy.

It had been a long time, too long in fact, since she had enjoyed a man
like this. Now, making up for lost time, she thrust down even more
demandingly, not content until she had stuffed the entire length of his
virile boner all the way into place.

It wasn’t as easy as she had first suspected.

The width of his cock necessitated a bit of caution, for her cunt walls
were pulled back vigorously as a result of the thickness of his member.
She gasped for breath and relaxed her vaginal muscles, feeling her cunt
flesh sticking against the surging smooth sides of Justin Whitlock’s
penis.

The dogs, whipped up to a near frenzy by the hot smell of sex, stood
around them, licking their arms and legs, barking loudly and unable to
contain themselves. Justin pushed Holmes and Bix away, not ready to
demonstrate what he had alluded to a few minutes earlier.

All in good time, he said to himself, too content now to worry about
that until he was certain Pam could deal with it. And of that, he didn’t
have the slightest bit of doubt. He knew her better than she knew
herself and understood where he fit into the scheme of her life. She
hadn’t had sex like this for months, if not longer, and Justin didn’t
need Pam Harper to tell him what he already sensed to be a fact.

And that, needless to say, was that he was succeeding in arousing her as
no man had ever aroused her before in her life. She didn’t have to say a
word to make him understand that and a smile crossed his lips, a smile
of egotistical pleasure and physical delight. Now, he jerked his crotch
up, meeting her next downward thrust.

By this time, more than three-quarters of the length of his boner was
stuffed up into her gaping muff. The lips of her cooze adhered tightly,
clinging to the rounded sides of his pole. He savored the warmth and
mounting heat of her cunt and as his dick frictioned and slid in even
deeper, she ground her hips down against his hairy crotch, wanting even
more and more of his boner.

“Watch it going inside,” he told her. “Just watch the way it keeps
getting shorter.”

“It’s … it’s so big inside, like it’s growing, so alive,” she said,
barely able to speak as she kept pushing forward.

Justin thrust his hips up a second time, spearing deeper. He let out a
piercing wail of pleasure as he felt the head of his cock actually
making contact with her cervix. It hit the end of her vaginal canal,
banged against the door to her womb and he stopped short, the entire
length of his sturdy engine completely ensheathed, right up to the root.

The dense tangle of his wiry pubic bush, so dark against her fleecy and
blonde-haired love nest, tangled with her pubes and she held herself
steady, the two of them almost looking amazed at what had just taken
place.

Between their legs the dichromatic bush of hair marked the point of
entry. The very base of his swollen shaft could also be seen, her cunt
lips adhering tightly to his meat. He squeezed his muscles as if to move
his cock inside of her and she, in turn, signaled back by clenching and
then loosening her vaginal muscles.

The sudden pressure made him groan once again. It was as if she was
gripping his dick with her fingers, squeezing and milking his hose. “So
… so much. I’m afraid to move,” she whispered, licking her drying lips
with the tip of her tongue.

“We’ll go slow,” he promised. He spit into the palm of one hand and then
proceeded to anoint her nipples with his saliva. When they were both
glistening with his spittle, he began to rotate the palms of his hands
over her jugs.

Pam threw back her head and moaned with delight. She raised herself up
so that half of his boner slid out into the open. Almost immediately,
she thrust down again, his cock hurtling back into her pussy. The
friction made her claw at his chest and she ran her fingers through his
thick pelt of body hair.

“You’re … you’re my bear, my big hairy teddy bear,” she giggled,
jerking back and forth, undulating her hips so that she was able to feel
his cock pressuring one vaginal wall and then the other.

Justin laughed and kept stimulating her jugs, finally letting go of her
boobs. He slid his hands down along her flanks until he was able to
reach around and grip the twin naked cheeks of her ass. He kneaded and
fondled her gluteal flesh, pulled her buns apart and thrust up, ramming
into her even as she sought to pound down on top of his mallet-sized and
mallet-hard pecker.

“Now move with me,” he groaned, knowing what he wanted to do next. Still
maintaining his grip on her ass, he began to push her gently back,
forming a rocking human boat, fused at their genitals. She stretched her
legs back along his sides, one and then the other. Her back bowed out in
a graceful arc and she held onto his arms for additional physical
support.

Once she was leaning all the way back, her hair trailing against the
floor, Justin began to rise up, pulling his legs back until he first
moved into a kneeling crouch. And all this time he was still keeping his
cock in place. The complicated gymnastics delighted her and she flowed
with her pleasure, watching him as if she had never known such complete
and total happiness in all of her life.

Now that he was resting on his knees and the backs of his legs, her own
legs stretched out before him, he didn’t hesitate to slide his feet back
so that soon enough he was in the position he desired, facing her and
penetrating her frontally. He bent his knees and pressed his palms down,
right alongside of her shoulders.

“Lift your legs, over my shoulders,” he told her.

She lifted up her feet, her ass now raised off of the floor. Another
heated whimper escaped her lips, for the moment she had hooked her knees
over his burly wide-set shoulders, even more of his cock slid into
place, the very base of his hose now rubbing in and out of her inflamed
and swampy vulva.

“Oh, do it, yes. Fuck me, pound it in,” she said. She winced when he
started to give her what she wanted, all eyes to their tangle of pubic
fur.

He pounded in and out, his cock-strokes fast and sure. Each downward
plunge brought her closer to her climax and her cunt muscles began to
fibrillate, clenching and unclenching around the surging moving length
of his penis.

Her cunt was hotter than ever and the underside of his dick created a
delicious friction against her clitoris. She howled more excitedly,
trying to meet his back and forth rhythmic strokes. Justin was sweating
profusely, droplets of perspiration, trickling down his chest and
underarms.

It dribbled onto her naked body and each time he dug into her, his ass
muscles tightened accordingly, his meaty buns dimpling as he thrust with
maddened fury and intensity. “Faster, faster,” she begged. He quickened
the tempo of his insertions; rapid dog-like jabs, choppy and swift.

“Don’t come, not yet, not yet,” he gasped and he looked beyond her then
to Holmes, knowing it was time to demonstrate the trick he had taught
his dog to perform. He had fantasized this too, fucking a chick while
being fucked at the same time. But not by a guy, certainly. No, for now
he fully intended to have his prostate massaged as if by a hot wet
finger. And that, needless to say, was what Holmes was going to give him
by using his long thinnish bony pecker.

He knelt there, gripped her more firmly and thrust his naked buns back
in the air. Holmes leaned over and gave Pam’s tits a perfunctory lick
before trotting around to face his master’s outthrust backside.

Pam saw the Doberman moving around. She thought the dog was going to rim
out Justin’s asshole. But then she remembered that she had guessed just
that and he had told her the act would involve something else entirely.

When the pinscher threw his front paws up over Justin Whitlock’s back,
Pam opened her eyes wide with disbelief. “But how?” she muttered “What’s
… what’s he going to do to you?”

“He’s gonna fuck me up the ass, kiddo,” smirked Justin, enjoying the
look of sheer amazement and surprise which flashed across her flushed
and reddened face.

“He’s gonna do what?”

“He’s gonna stuff his dick right up my hole, that’s what. Haven’t you
ever finger-fucked a guy’s asshole before?”

“No, no never. Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Shit no. The swelling of the prostate gland is right inside a guy’s
asshole and when it’s massaged it makes everything so much more
exciting, like unreal,” Justin explained patiently, even as Holmes was
jerking behind him, trying to fit his naked and glistening red dogcock
right into his master’s hairy asshole.

Pam shook her head. It was all too new to her. But it certainly didn’t
turn her off. She could smell the randy odor they were all giving off,
the humans as well as the dogs and now she lifted her face and strained
to see what Holmes was about to perform.

“Did you ever let Bix fuck you up the ass?”

“Once … well, a couple of times,” she finally admitted, a little
embarrassed that buggery and corn-holing were yet another facet of her
bestial repertoire.

“Well, it’s the same thing, only it’s the prostate that gets
stimulated,” and saying this he reached back with one hand, sliding his
fingers down past his balls and underneath to his ass. He immediately
could feel the hairy sheath at the base of the Doberman’s penis and he
squeezed it hotly and loosened his anal muscles. He wiggled his buttocks
back against the dog’s smooth furry belly, trying at the same time to
manipulate Holmes’ dick so that the pointy wet tip would make contact
with his anus.

It took about a minute, during which time Holmes was yapping and
howling, refusing to sit still. He kept jerking, fucking blindly until
the head of his bony article finally made contact, right where Justin
felt it belonged.

He pulled the dog closer against him, his muscles loose and relaxed. His
bottom-hole was slightly dilated, enough for the dog to be able to push
his pointy cock head right inside his master’s rectum. And when this
point of entry was accomplished, Justin let go of Holmes’ boner and slid
his hand back, pressing his fingers over Pam’s mouth.

“Lick them. Smell the dog,” he said with wide and excited eyes.

She inhaled the cloying musty smell and lashed her tongue over his
fingers, tasting the same oily secretions she had previously sucked down
whenever she had taken Bix’s cock between her lips. And that too was
something she decided, right then and there, to indulge in, sensing the
way it would arouse both her and Justin to an even more maddened degree.

But before she called Bix over to her, the Scottie was already leaning
over her sweaty chest, his hard raspy tongue flicking across one of her
tits. The terrier licked and drooled over her inflamed and turgid nipple
and shivers of pleasure flooded her body, mingling with the pleasure of
Justin’s deeply buried hardon.

He still hadn’t begun to stroke again, waiting for the Doberman to fully
insert his pencil-thin dick. And that was accomplished even as Pam
licked his fingers. Behind him, his front paws pressed down against his
back and shoulders, Holmes kept licking along the nape of Justin’s neck.
The dog was bucking and jerking, stabbing forward so that more and more
of his tool slid into place.

Justin moaned the instant the dog’s cock passed over the chestnut-sized
swelling of his prostate gland. Wonderfully massaged, tickled and
stimulated, his prostate burned and his balls smacked fitfully against
Pam Harper’s upraised ass.

“Come on, boy, more,” he moaned as the dog shoved deeper until nearly
seven thin inches of bony canine cock was buried into place. It was
housed right inside the dry tight confines of Justin’s rectum. The dog’s
pecker had been glistening wet, lubricated with oily secretions.
Suitably lubricated it now moved even more easily than a finger would
have done, surging in and out as Holmes really started ass-fucking in
earnest.

Dog drool slid down Justin’s back and once Holmes started thrusting,
using the same short heated jabs he had done when he had pounded in and
out of Pam’s cunt, Justin began to move, almost in unison. He thrust
back and forth, slamming his burning tool deep within Pam’s muff.

And when she reached out and pulled Bix over so that she could wrap her
lips around the terrier’s naked and exposed pecker, Justin was more
aroused than he had ever felt before. He hadn’t even expected her to do
this, nor had he even dared to ask her to perform fellatio on her pet.

“Oh yeah, do it, right on,” he said with a leering grin. “Suck on the
pooch’s pecker, baby. Lick it good and make him come. Taste his come
going down your throat, nice and hot and slimy.”

Pam squeezed her cunt muscles more vigorously, wordlessly responding to
Justin’s heated cries. She could feel the additional weight of Holmes,
ramming his boner in and out of Whitlock’s ass. And though she was not
able to see it actually taking place, she could tell by the look of
wild-eyed delight that Justin exhibited, that he was loving every fierce
and frantic stroke, even as much as he was loving plowing in and out of
her hot and slippery muff.

“I’m … I’m gonna come!” she squealed, breathless now as she felt her
climax suddenly rearing over her like a leaping beast, hurtling through
her body with all the maddened force of her wild delight. She stiffened
and hungrily pulled Bix over so that she was able to turn her head to
the side and ram her mouth down over the Scottie’s wet and slippery
penis.

Bix licked her face and yapped with delight the instant she glued her
lips around the thin finger of his meat. And then she began to come, her
climax triggered by the wild pleasure that was surrounding her. Justin
thrust more angrily, hammering in and out, ramming so hard and fast that
he knocked her breathless.

Her groans were muffled now as she tightened her oral hold around Bix’s
tool, tasting the oily secretions which lubricated his reddened and
glistening dick. The odor of his body turned her on as well and she kept
on coming, hot gushes of sap drooling down her shuddering vaginal walls.

The additional lubrication coated Whitlock’s penis. He was being whipped
up into a frenzy of wild passion, stimulated front and behind him,
pounding mercilessly and vigorously, the Doberman kept at it with
howling ecstasy. Justin squeezed his sphincter muscles as tightly as he
could, exerting additional pressure and friction around his prostate
gland.

And Pam still kept on coming, so beyond control that she stuffed the
entire length of Bix’s short carrot-thin cock right down her throat. Her
lips nuzzled his black tight little balls and the Scottie was already
imitating Justin and Holmes’ wild bucking movements, humping in and out
of Pam Harper’s mouth.

She kept shaking, twisting her body left and right as Justin continued
to milk her of pleasure. She had never known sex like this, never before
having experienced the intense pleasure, which now flowed through her
body.

“Do it, come, keep coming,” he begged, milking her dry as he kept on
pounding his meat in and out of her pussy. He wanted to shoot his own
thick hot load, but he waited until the two dogs had reached the point
of ejaculation before letting loose his own brand of seminal acrobatics.

And since he was a man who had learned the meaning of self-control, he
was able to hold back and stop himself from shooting before he wanted
to. Pam finally sank down on the floor, her body soaking wet and her
skin suffused with the ruddy hue of her sexual release.

But even then, despite her fatigue, she didn’t stop working on her dog’s
pecker. She kept her lips glued tightly around the thin slippery hard
length of Bix’s cock. Training had taught the dog how to deal with her,
how not to move too vigorously, but to allow Pam to do the back and
forth thrusting.

And this she did, spearing her tongue over his wet surging boner while
she pulled her lips over his cock and moved her head back and forth. The
sight turned Justin on even more. Behind him, his prostate tingling and
seemingly on fire from the unending barrage of fast penetrating
cock-strokes, Holmes was about to explode.

The Doberman howled and bayed into the air, thrusting madly now, fucking
with short precise strokes. And then he let loose so that Justin was
able to feel the sudden series of muscular contractions that signaled
the dog’s canine ejaculation.

“He’s coming!” he cried out to Pam, tightening his sphincter muscles as
best he could so that the additional grip he exerted around the dog’s
penis made Holmes bark wildly, yapping again and again, even as runny
spurts of dogcome began to splash into the depths of Justin Whitlock’s
asshole.

He could just about feel the come spurting into his ass and he threw
himself forward, grinding his hips down against Pam’s cunt as if he
fully intended to stuff his balls into her slippery and tightly gripping
muff.

The head of his tool banged against her cervix, triggering yet another
orgasm. Her clit was pressed down against his meat and she shuddered and
thrashed about on the floor, sucking more heatedly and excitedly on
Bix’s bony article.

The Scottie, heated up by the smells and pleasures of sex, was about to
release his own load of semen in just another moment. Holmes was still
howling, still jerking so that the knot of his prostate gland kept
rubbing around the hairy rim of Justin’s inflamed and stimulated poop.

And then it was Whitlock’s turn to demonstrate what he had to offer in
the way of hot cream. He suddenly stiffened and didn’t fight himself any
longer, allowing himself to experience the pleasure of releasing his
pent-up load of jism. Though not nearly as thick nor abundant as his
first copious load, it was still a good strong spend, all things
considered.

Open-eyed and delighted, Pam squeezed her cunt muscles as tightly and
grippingly as she could, able to feel the way Justin’s penis suddenly
convulsed as hot goblets of come began to pour out of the head of his
burning quivering rod.

“Yes, do it, feel me coming, feel it, all this come. Suck on Bixie, suck
his cream, his cream,” Whitlock groaned incoherently, his body glowing
as he plowed down and held himself stiffly, shooting one thick gushing
wad of cream after another. He wanted to flood her cunt with his load,
wanted to feel his sap dribbling down over his ejaculating hose, oozing
out like syrup around the puffy and tender lips of her twat.

Holmes slid back until his own cock eased its way out of Justin’s
inflamed asshole. Thin rivulets of dog-come oozed out around the hairy
reddened aperture, dribbling down along Justin’s bum furrow and
trickling over his pendulous hot nuts.

Holmes yapped and then, as more come spurted out, Justin milking himself
by squeezing his muscles again and again, Bix went over the edge,
joining him in the explosive bestial passion of the moment. Suddenly,
Pam’s mouth was filled with thin salty dog-come, pasty tasting fluid
which she sucked down, savoring the animal taste and smell of the
terrier’s crotch.

Her loud gurgles of pleasure mingled with the uproar echoing all around
her. Justin was groaning and bellowing with pleasure while Bix yapped
loudly, shrill barks which pierced the warm close air. Holmes lay down
on the floor, his tongue hanging out from between his jowls, too
exhausted to move or partake any further in the wild sexual fun and
games of the afternoon.

And all this time Pam was still sucking down dog-come, still feeling
Justin Whitlock’s cream shooting into her cunt. Her cooze was now
flooded with semen and at last, having succeeded in helping Justin to
come, his balls depleted like eggs sucked from their shells, she finally
relinquished her grip on the Scottie’s pecker and eased Bix away from
her face.

Yellow curds of canine semen flecked her lips and he leaned over and
pressed his mouth over hers, tasting Bix’s cream. He swallowed the
unctuous slippery fluid and sank down against her, cradling Pam in his
arms.

His sweaty hairy chest rubbed over her tits and she shuddered, so
content, so totally pleased and delighted with what had just taken
place, that words were unnecessary and inadequate to express her
satisfaction and sense of complete and total sexual and emotional
fulfillment.

Justin clung to her, sucking on her lips and tongue, cradling her in his
arms. He held onto her and gently rolled over so that they were now
lying on their sides. His cock was beginning to go soft and limp inside
of her come-filled twat, but he made no move to pull himself free and
ease his pecker out of her muff.

“Just be like this, just the way you are, and we’ll never have to be
alone again,” he whispered. And when she smiled and nodded her head,
Justin leaned back against the floor and tried to catch his breath.

Chapter 5

The afternoon was not yet over.

When Justin Whitlock’s cock had gone limp and detumescent, a soft yet
meaty sausage floating inside of her swampy and come-filled twat, he
gently eased it out into the open. She gripped it hotly, wanting him to
get hard again; wanting to be fucked a third time.

But Justin had satiated his appetites and didn’t want to push a good
thing. He had one more ace up his sleeve though, for no sooner had he
removed his cock with a loud and resounding squish, when he eased her
back onto the floor and swiveled around like a monkey in a cage.

Pam didn’t have to be told what to do after that. Justin straddled her
body and immediately plunged his face down between her legs, wanting to
feast on the abundant clots of slippery viscous semen, which were now
oozing out around her gaping cunt furrow. The taste of his own come
turned him more on than off and he cleaned her puffy cunt lobes with his
lashing tongue, swallowing cream before drilling deeper as if he was
searching for buried treasure within the depths of her seminalized quim.

Pam shuddered, her body caught in a nervous tremor. She was still
glowing, mentally as well as physically, bathed in the warmth of her
after-pleasure. And now Justin’s tongue was certainly doing a job on
her, already getting her body aroused all over again.

But she knew as well that he expected a similar pleasure from her. She
glanced to the left and caught sight of Bix and Holmes, lying there
half-asleep, tongues lolling out. There was a dish of water in the
kitchen and first the Doberman and then the Scottie got to their feet
and trotted off to refresh themselves.

Left alone for the moment, Pam and Justin hardly missed their thirsty
exit. Justin rested on his knees and palms, his body in a perfect
position for sixty-nine. But before he allowed Pam the pleasure of
licking his cock clean and dry, he thrust down, leaving nothing to her
imagination.

She knew what the motion was indicative of, what he wanted her to do for
him. And the last thing in the world she felt was revulsion or
unwillingness. She wanted to explore every part of his body, to give him
as much pleasure as he had succeeded in giving her. Thus, she didn’t
hesitate to reach up and grab hold of his buns, pulling his ass down
over her flushed and sweaty face. He murmured his approval, loving
nothing so much as first coming and then having a chick eat out his ass,
rimming him and turning him on all over again.

And this she did without a second’s thought or hesitation.

She pulled his muscular buns down, able to inhale the aroma of sweat and
gamy odor of excrement and the pungent smell of Holmes’ yellowish cream.
Dog-come oozed out around his anus and bum furrow and Pan thrust her
tongue out hotly, licking down from the top edge of his crevice all the
way to his puckered brown asshole.

He muttered with delight and loosened his sphincter muscles, encouraging
her to dig her tongue right inside of his poop-chute. And once Pam had
licked his bum furrow dry of come and sweat, she didn’t wait for Justin
to tell her what to do next. She thrust her tongue forward, holding it
taut and as stiffly as she could.

The rim of his asshole trembled as she pushed her tongue right inside,
amazed and turned on by the way short thick wiry black pubes lined his
bum furrow and swirled around his corrugated anus. And when she had
succeeded in pushing the tip of her tongue into place, she tasted even
more of Holmes’ cream, dribbling over her tongue and down along the
walls of his butt.

He squeezed his anal muscles around her raspy-edged prober and as she
pushed her tongue deeper inside, curious to feel his prostate gland, he
pulled her legs wider apart and shoved his face down, wanting to eat out
her asshole while she performed the same analingual service for him.

The pale naked blossom of her bottom-hole yielded its treasures, the
loose folds of perianal flesh opening wide under the assault of his
raspy and stiffly extended tongue. Pam shivered with pleasure, loving
the feel of Justin’s tongue sliding down into her tight dry poop.

He licked the elastic fleshy walls of her clenching rectum, his body
shuddering on top of her. And when she pulled him down more firmly, he
rubbed his half-erect cock right between her tits. After-come trickled
out, lubricating her boobs. His hairy chest grazed over her belly and
they were once again tangled together, joined to each other with rising
heated passion.

Don’t let it end, Pam thought to herself: Let him be here for me every
day. Let him learn to love me.

That, however, was something neither of them considered discussing. And
at the moment, they couldn’t have spoken either, their tongues too busy
exploring and dipping in and out of each other’s tight and randy bottom
holes.

Justin smiled contentedly to himself. Who would have thought this could
all have happened, that a casual walk to the park to give Holmes his
daily run could have resulted in such a searing display of sexual
pyrotechnics, human and bestial couplings he had never enjoyed except
within the precincts of his lurid imagination.

But it had happened and if he had his way, it would continue occurring
until something or someone came between them and their wild insatiable
sexual appetites.

* * *

Pam knew Justin wasn’t in love with her not yet, at any rate. But she
didn’t push the issue, finding it pointless and unnecessary to discuss
the nature of their emotional and physical involvement. Two weeks had
passed since she had first seen him in the park, since they had gone
back to his studio apartment together, there to engage in acts she had
never enjoyed half as much before she had met him. And in the two weeks
since that had taken place, she had seen him nearly every night. If
anything, their sex only seemed to get better, with or without the
active participation of the two dogs, Bix and Holmes. She was learning
things about herself, her body in particular, she had never known
before.

Justin was a skillful teacher, bringing her out of herself, giving her
the self-confidence she had lacked since her first disastrous love
affair, five years before. But if the sex continued to improve with each
passing day, she was still dissatisfied, sensing that there was
something missing, something she could not bring herself to ever discuss
with him.

She still knew little if anything about Justin, the story of his life a
sketchy incomplete drawing, a puzzle with half the pieces still missing
so that the ultimate image was not all there. He had told her little
bits of things, as if to satisfy her craving for knowledge about the
person he had been before they had met each other.

She knew he worked part-time at an art gallery, that he occasionally
dabbled with paints. But he gave no indication of knowing what he wanted
from his life, or any sense of wanting something from her other than the
complete freedom to use her body as he saw fit.

And when she had suggested he work with her at the pet shop, that he
might eventually buy into her small but commercially successful
enterprise, he had looked at her with such obvious disbelief and lack of
interest that she had dropped the discussion, right then and there.

Had the relationship been just a straight sex thing and nothing else,
Pam wouldn’t have been half as disturbed about it as she now felt. But
he had said nothing about that, about putting emotional strictures on
their involvement. And, as a result, she had let her feelings come out,
knowing that he recognized the way she was already committed to him,
long before he was ready–if he would ever be–to make the same kind of
commitment to her.

Finally, she could not hold back her feelings any longer.

“What do you want from me … the truth?” she asked him. They were just
finishing the dinner she had prepared at her apartment.

Justin pushed his chair away from the table, loosening his pants and
smiling at her with cryptic self-content. He had enjoyed her dinner and
now, the intensity of her query, the very seriousness and earnest
inflection of her statement, stopped him short.

“I haven’t thought about it,” he finally admitted. “I just dig being
with you, that’s all. Why does anything else have to be discussed? Are
you so hot to have a husband, all of a sudden? You’re twenty-eight and
you’re doing fine, supporting yourself, living well on your earnings. So
what’s the big hassle, all of a sudden?”

“There’s no hassle, Justin,” she replied, annoyed at the way he had
successfully dodged her question. “I mean, well … it’s just that …”
and she stopped short, not even sure of what it was she had wanted to
say to him.

“It’s just what?” he asked.

“It’s just that I care, and I don’t want to be hurt again, like the last
time, that’s all. If all you dig about me is the sex, that’s okay too.
But I feel something more than that, if you must know the truth,” she
replied.

“But I didn’t ask for the truth, did I?” countered Justin. “In fact, I
haven’t asked for anything but the pleasure of your company.”

“Well, you have that, God knows,” she said, laughing nervously to cover
up her deep-rooted anxieties.

“Do I? Really?” and he screwed up his eyes and stared intently at her,
curious to know the extent of her involvement, how far she would go
along with him, how far she would go to please him.

“Oh course you do. You know that,” Pam said quickly.

“If I asked you to fuck a pig, would you do it?”

“A pig!” she exclaimed with disbelief. “What are you talking about,
anyway?”

“You know what I’m talking about. I just asked you a simple question. I
want to know how far you’ll go to please me, that’s all. When you’ll
draw the line and refuse to do what I ask,” Justin went on. He closed
his eyes for a moment, as if he was trying to picture such a scene in
his mind’s eye.

“I don’t follow you at all,” she confessed, having never seen him like
this before.

“There’s nothing difficult to follow, Pam. There are things I want you
to try, things you’ve never done before. Things I’ve never done, either.
I want to test your loyalties, the extent of your commitment to me,” he
said.

“You want to test my commitment!” she yelled, recoiling as if he had
just slapped her across the face. “What more do you want from me? I’ve
given you everything I have. I’m naked in front of you and … and you
haven’t moved your ass in that direction, not one inch. You want me to
get fucked by a pig? Find one, Justin. Find me a pig with a cock and
I’ll let him fuck me, how’s that!”

“You’re on, kiddo,” he said, grinning almost sarcastically at her. He
got up from his chair and stood by the kitchen table, his thumbs hooked
underneath the waistband of his jeans.

He rocked back and forth on the heels of his cowboy boots, his eyes
blazing with inner excitement. Pam just stared back at him, still not
sure how serious he had been, still not certain of what he needed from
her, what he was thinking about at that very instant.

“I want to teach you things you’ve never dreamed of before, things
you’ve never tried out in your life. And maybe, just maybe, if you go
through them with me, we’ll end up with something a lot more important
than what we have now,” he told her, believing what he said, not
doubting for one minute that the plans he had long ago made for himself
were still viable and meaningful for his life.

“What things?”

“Getting fucked by a pig, by a horse. Watching me fuck a sheep, a mare.
Letting a woman make love to you, a child, three other men gang-bang you
at the same time. I want you to be so open to yourself, to your sexual
self that is, that when you’ve experienced all those kind of things
you’ll really know what love is all about.”

“You’re crazy, do you know that! You’re insane!” she yelled. “Is that
… that kind of depravity your idea of being in love? What you want me
to be is your slave, is that it? Not on your life, kiddo. Get yourself
another goodtime girl. I’m not interested.”

“Oh, but you are. And I know it just as much as you do, Pam,” he replied
coolly. “Because right now, right this very minute, you’re as much my
slave as I am yours. It’s equal kiddo, remember that. Even if you don’t
believe it now, or don’t want to believe it, for two weeks you’ve done
nothing but please yourself as much as you’ve pleased me. Not once did I
force you into anything, or make you do something, which you didn’t
like, which you couldn’t stand to do. Isn’t that the truth, Pam? Isn’t
that the fucking honest to God truth?”

She trembled, her lips pouting as she tried to reply to him. But no
words came out. She was unable to master the situation, to get the upper
hand. Nor did she even want to. She knew he was right, that because of
the very nature of her involvement and commitment, she was powerless to
deny him anything, anything, at all.

And even as they stood there in the kitchen, facing each other with
silence and unblinking eyes, Justin knew that she would go along with
him, down whatever paths of depravity or bestiality he so desired to
take her upon, no matter what might happen as a result.

He smiled mysteriously and she flinched at his unwavering and self-sure
grin. He was exerting a kind of hold on her, a magnetic pull from which
she neither had the desire or the strength to resist. Even as she looked
at him, Justin slid his fingers over to the buckle of his belt.

She stiffened; oddly excited by what she sensed was about to take place.
He pulled the belt off, yanking it through the loops of his jeans. Pam
half-expected him to double it in half and strike out at her,
demonstrating the power and control he could readily exercise whenever
it suited his fancy or a whim of his ever-changing mood.

But bondage, sadism, even mild punishment with whips and straps, was not
part of Justin Whitlock’s sexual repertoire. He saw the way she flinched
in fear and he smiled openly at her, as if to taunt her with his silence
and his threatening airs.

“When I know that you will not hesitate to do anything for me … or to
me, then I will also know the truth of your love,” he whispered. “And
when that moment arrives, and I believe it will, sooner than even you
yourself can believe right now, you will have me as much as I’ll have
you. But only then, only then … will I be there for you for as long as
you need me.”

She could see how serious he was and yet she also felt that he was
play-acting, reciting lines of dialogue from a play that was yet to be
produced on or off Broadway. Pam didn’t know whether or not she should
believe what Justin said to her. But if she couldn’t decide about the
validity of his words, not to mention his unorthodox and strangely
disquieting sentiments, she didn’t have to think twice about the way her
body was responding to his sheer physical presence, his sheer sexual and
animal magnetism on her; a force field of urges. She was not being
dramatic, reading into things or even misinterpreting what he had told
her in the past few minutes. She knew he believed in what he had said,
but it was now up to her to believe in his theories–for want of a
better explanation–and accept the ultimatum he had given her.

If she did not, she knew it would be over.

And that was the last thing she wanted to happen. Because now, Pam felt
that she could no longer live apart from Justin. Whatever it was he
possessed, whatever spell in the name of love he had cast upon her, was
something she was incapable of defending herself against. The walls she
had erected around herself, defensive barriers to shield out feelings
and interpersonal communication, had now toppled, crumbling like ash at
her feet.

So it was that she continued to tremble and stare at him, calling him
her lover, thinking too that he was her teacher, instructing her in the
art and artifice of sex, sex of every shape and description. She hadn’t
even stopped to think about that in the past two weeks, to question his
physical needs, his attraction to all that was bestial and bizarre.

The wilder the act the more aroused he seemed to become. And she too had
begun to respond in much the same fashion, needing the animalistic
variations he dreamed up to vary their sexual diet. She tried to hold
herself steady, to look back at him under a set of calm and untroubled
eyes.

But she couldn’t fake her discomfort of her excitement, anticipating the
round of sexual fun and games she sensed were about to begin, right here
in her kitchen. Justin was still standing by the table. He put his belt
down on a kitchen chair and ever so slowly, enticing her with the
languidness of his physical movements; he slid his hands over to the top
of his fly.

He unbuttoned the top snap and then pulled the metal zipper down with a
calculatedly slow and tempered motion of his hand. Pam blinked and
wondered if he was hypnotizing her, his unwavering stare like the eyes
of a cobra, a snake holding her frozen and unmoving in space and time.

Justin kept his eyes opened wide, trying not to blink. Hypnotism wasn’t
what he was doing, but his unwavering and piercing stare had a kind of
trance-like effect on Pam Harper. He could see how the color had risen
in her cheeks, how her unfettered breasts rose and fell hotly behind the
front of her thin orlon sweater.

His attraction to her was just as heated as Pam’s desires for him. He
knew this and it pleased him as much as everything else that had taken
place this evening. The ice had been broken and in a far more intriguing
way than two Sundays past, when they had first met each other at the
park.

He didn’t want her to be his sexual slave. No, that wasn’t the term he
had in mind. What he desired from her was far more subtle, a mingling of
threads, psychic vibrations, mystical emotions. Selflessness and
complete and total trust colored his version of love.

And by getting Pam to submit to things, sexual acts in particular, he
sensed she still found appalling or nauseating or degrading, the truth
of her affections and the validity of her love would finally be made
clear to him. When that would happen, he would believe in her completely
and he would give himself up to her, just as she had given herself to
him.

As soon as he had pulled the zipper down, he dropped his hands to his
sides. Pam looked down, her eyes boring behind the parted fly of his
dungarees. She could see a tangle of black pubic hair but nothing else,
nothing but the bulging outline of his pecker, still concealed within
the confines of his tight-fitting blue jeans.

Psychic, she thought. Telepathy, maybe.

Because she knew then what he wanted from her, at least what he wanted
her to do at that particular moment. Woodenly, controlled by the
passions that seethed just below the surface of her skin, controlled too
by his magnetic and piercing stare, she found herself moving forward,
incapable of conquering her desires.

And at this point, she didn’t want to conquer them. She wanted Justin to
satisfy the wild cravings her body was exhibiting. She wanted him to
give her the kind of pleasure that had been theirs each night they had
seen each other for the past two weeks. He hadn’t brought Holmes along
with him, the way he usually did, but Bix was there, lying asleep under
the table. The Scottie ignored them for the moment and Pam glanced down
at her pet and wondered if there still were acts she had not yet
performed with the terrier.

If there were, she knew that Justin would teach them to her. She was
ready for that, too, as ready as she would ever be. So she stepped
towards him, the silence unnerving, but the bulging outline of his
unseen hard-on making her body tremble, causing hot dribbles of cunt sap
to stream down the twitching and itching walls of her overheated muff.

Insane, she thought to herself; the way he can just control me like
this.

Insane or not, it was still the truth. Justin sensed all that she was
thinking and as soon as she had stepped close enough to him, he reached
out with both hands and pressed his fingers down over her trembling
shoulders. She was forced down to the floor, forced to kneel in homage
before his hard and muscled young body.

A smile of sexual cunning played across his full leering lips and no
sooner had Pam’s knees touched the floor than Justin released her and
she whimpered like a lost child. She threw herself forward, her hands
reaching around his steely thighs. And as she clung to him, she rubbed
her lips over the grossly distended bulge of his meat, remembering how
his cock had always milked her body of pleasures and ecstasies she had
never believed could be possible.

Now, she could feel the hard length of his pecker tenting up the front
of his jeans. She opened her mouth slightly and rubbed her parted lips
over the pipe-like silhouette of his throbbing penis. Justin shuddered
with pleasure. He looked down at her and held himself stiffly, not
moving a muscle or betraying his own intense sexual excitement. To have
her doing this, kneeling at his feet, so in awe of his virile potent
member that she was beside herself, mentally as well as physically,
delighted him to no end.

Her attentions fed his ego as well as his libido and as her lips slid up
and down along the trapped length of his cock, her fingers moved higher,
sliding around to cup the twin tightly muscled cheeks of his boyish ass.

Insane, insane, she kept repeating. Justin made her feel not only like a
woman, but like an older woman. Despite the fact that he was only a year
younger than her, twenty-seven to be exact, their relationship seemed
colored by an inequality that made her see herself as the older woman
trying to hold onto her studly young lover. He had never sought to
seduce her, not since that first afternoon together.

If anything, she was the one who was more active in bed, just as she was
being more active now, kneeling in front of his unmoving body, already
squeezing his dimpled buns and rubbing her lips and tongue over the
outline of his pecker. But even though she knew all this to be true, his
air of egotistic calm and passivity only served to inflame her passions
all the more, as if she was seducing and conquering him, winning him
over until he was ready to attack her, a sleepy lion suddenly springing
to life with savage and bestial power.

Knowing all this gave her more confidence, confidence that a few minutes
before had been badly needed. She had almost felt as if she had lost
him, as if he had somehow succeeded in escaping her and slipping through
her fingers. But now she knew exactly how to hold him there before her,
to keep him as much her prisoner as she felt herself to be.

She moved her hands around and grabbed hold of the gaping sides of his
unzipped fly. Justin sucked in his breath, held himself even more rigid
and unmoving and watched her as she seemed to frantically tear open his
jeans, tugging his dungarees down off of his waist and hips.

His cock was caught inside, but when she pulled his faded blue jeans
down to his knees, his meaty weapon sprang out at her. In a flash she
was upon it, trying to impale her mouth over the entire nine burning
inches of his swollen dart. A low-pitched moan escaped his lips the
instant Pam pressed her own hot and puffy lips over the head of his
cock, tasting the pre-come which drooled out of his pisshole.

“Suck it, all of it,” he hissed, thrusting his hips forward and stabbing
more than four inches of bulky bloated meat into her mouth.

She was learning how to handle it, how to control her gag reflex, how
not to choke as she sucked him off. And so she had less trouble than she
had had in the past, coping with the burly dimensions of his massive
dick.

She thrust her face over more and more of his tool, savoring the slick
strength of his rod, feeling it being stuffed deeper and deeper into her
mouth until his glans bent her tonsils back and actually slid through
her mouth and down into the back of her throat. And still she managed to
hold onto it, her nostrils flaring wide as she breathed through her
nose.

She pushed forward even more; not content until it was buried between
her lips as deeply as he buried it between her legs. When her mouth
nuzzled his sweaty thicket of black pubic hair, she stopped and used her
tongue, sliding it back and forth along the hidden length of his
cock-shaft. She could feel the braided blue veins, the ridge of muscle
along the underside of his slick smooth pole.

Her fingers cupped his balls and fondled them, tickling his nuts as she
used her tongue to stimulate and arouse him. Justin was groaning with
pleasure, rocking back and forth, gently sliding his pecker in and out
of her mouth. He never removed it more than halfway, loving the hot
wetness of her lips and tongue, the way she had learned how to suck him
off with such skill and expertise that it was almost as good as fucking
her cunt.

“Rub your finger over my asshole,” he whispered, remembering too how
just a few days before he had made her cut her fingernails with just
this particular purpose in mind.

Pam hurried to obey him, not so much afraid of refusing him anything,
but wanting to show the pleasure he gave her, the way it delighted her
to turn him on. Even then, even as she slid her extended middle finger
down underneath his pendulous scrotal sac, she could feel how hot washes
of cunt juice were seeping out around her muff, soaking through the
front of her panties.

She wanted to ram his cock between her legs, but first she did what he
had said, knowing from past experience that he never denied her the
pleasure of his body, never teasing her and then refusing to finish what
he had begun.

She pushed her finger down between his muscular buttocks, rubbing it
along his sweaty bum furrow until she was able to feel the palpitating
rim of his puckered asshole. Justin sighed with pleasure as she tickled
his fundament, her finger gently pushing forward even as he moved his
feet aside and relaxed his sphincter muscles.

She had little difficulty penetrating his bottom-hole, gently yet
insistently easing her middle finger right inside of his hot dry ass.
She thrust it slowly into place, not stopping until she was able to feel
what was by now the familiar swelling of his prostate gland. And the
more she massaged it with her fingertip, the more she worked on his
cock, the more aroused and excited Justin Whitlock became.

He knew then what he wanted to do to her, having consciously avoided
attempting it since they had been together. They had done just about
everything else but that and he hadn’t even asked her about it, holding
back until he himself was ready to go through with it.

By having denied himself the searing and singular pleasure of
corn-holing her, of fucking Pam Harper up the ass, he had fantasized
about it when they were not in each other’s company. It seemed to him
now to be the most perfect, the most apt way to start this second stage
of their relationship.

And so he allowed her to work him up to a state of wild ecstasy,
unwittingly preparing him for the act that was soon to follow. Surprise
as a part of the sexual act had always served to arouse him and he
didn’t doubt for one minute that Pam’s surprise would be anything but
heated, to put it mildly.

He saw himself taking her, suddenly, brutally, indifferent to her
feelings. But he also saw the end result, the pleasure not only he would
derive, but Pam herself would experience. Because he was so sure of
this, Justin began to grow as impatient as he was turned on.

A few minutes later, fearing that her skillful bout of fellatio and
prostatic massage would cause him to lose his usually well-tuned self
control, he pressed his hands back against her shoulders and eased her
gently yet forcefully away from him.

Pam hoped she hadn’t done anything wrong. She felt him pushing her back
and she reluctantly relinquished her oral grip, first easing her
pistoning finger from out of the confinement of his tight burning ass
and then sliding away from his cock until her front teeth were gently
and pleasurably nibbling along the slick smooth skin stretched over his
plum-shaped glans.

That too she finally let go of. She lifted her flushed and reddened face
as his cock plopped loudly from out of her mouth. It jerked up in the
air, brimming over with strength, potency and drooling pre-seminal
fluid, pearly liquid that capped his meatus and trickled down along his
jerking bobbing cock-shaft.

“Stand up,” he said and she rose shakily and breathlessly to her feet.
He reached out and yanked down the zipper to her skirt. Pam submitted
without so much as making a single sound. She shuddered at this display
of sudden violence, but his impatience to unclothe her seemed to
indicate how wildly aroused she had succeeded in making him feel.

He bent forward, refusing to say anything else, knowing how his silence
was far more arousing for her than if he explained what he was now
doing. He pulled her skirt down, lifted one foot and then the other,
forcing her to step out of it.

She continued to shake, frightened and excited by his odd performance.
Justin was panting now and he could see how wet and swampy her cunt had
become as a result of sucking him off. The front of her skimpy bikini
briefs was literally sopping wet, the nylon transparent and sticking to
her wet tangled pubic bush.

But at this moment he wasn’t interested in once again re-acquainting
himself with the pleasures of her pussy. He reached for the waistband of
her undies, grabbed it between his thumb and index finger, and ripped
her panties down so that the nylon actually shredded as he tore her
briefs right off of her body.

She gasped, but still submitted to his increasingly wild and lusty
behavior. Her body trembled and she stood there in the kitchen, bathed
in the harsh and uncompromising glow of the fluorescent light above her
head.

She was now naked from the waist down. “Close your eyes. And don’t move.
Don’t say anything until I tell you to,” he whispered hotly. The strange
unorthodox nature of his specific commands startled her, but she found
herself going along with him as she closed her eyes and held her breath,
stiffening with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Pam had no idea of what he planned. But if she knew Justin the way she
thought she did, she was certain that pleasure–hers as well as
his–would be a definite component of his unexplained behavior.

No sooner had she shut her eyes, than Justin pulled his jeans all the
way down, managing to remove them without having to bother to take off
his boots. All Pam wore now were her shoes and orlon sweater and he made
no attempt to pull the sweater over her head, preferring her
half-clothed body, at least for this one particular episode.

But he preferred to be completely naked, save for his cowboy boots. He
unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off of his burly torso and threw it over
the back of the nearest kitchen chair. Naked now, he was finally ready
to consummate what he had long imagined in his feverish and rotting
brain.

As for Pamela Harper, she had played right into his hands. She didn’t
even peek as Justin Whitlock smiled lustily to himself, contemplating
her half-naked and seductive body. He reached out and grabbed hold of
the butter dish that had been left on the table.

The stick of soft yellow butter shone dully and Justin no longer
hesitated, not in the least.

Chapter 6

Everything seemed so perfect, at least in Justin’s eyes, that he found
it almost hard to believe this was all taking place. He had finally met
a chick … no, he thought then, a woman … to whom he could be his
complete and totally uninhibited self. He wanted her to become as
completely open to sex as he was and he knew she had certainly done
little if anything in the past two weeks to make him feel any sense of
disappointment or displeasure.

Now, he was certain that she would submit to his needs with the same
brand of willingness she had demonstrated so faithfully in the past.
Accordingly, he grabbed the stick of butter, lifted it up off of the
dish and moved towards her. Her body trembled and a soft ruddy blush had
begun to suffuse her skin.

Pam strained to hear him, wondering what he was doing, what he was
preparing to enact, using her as a silent and unmoving partner. When she
felt him spinning her around, she gasped. She was pushed up against the
side of the kitchen table and he shoved most of the dishes out of the
way, suddenly pushing her chest down against the top of the table.

“Don’t say anything!” he hissed as he felt her muscles tightening in
fear. He moved behind her, pulled her trembling white buns apart with
one powerful and determined hand, and then proceeded to shove the stick
of soft melting butter right up against her pink and puckered fundament.

“Oh God no, no don’t!” she moaned the instant she felt the greasy butter
being rubbed into her asshole, completely lubricating her bum furrow and
the folds and creases which marked her tight little anus.

“Don’t what?” he snickered, actually succeeding in shoving half of the
stick of butter right up her ass. The idea, the very notion of buttering
her poop and then slamming his cock into place, delighted him to no end.
He saw his pecker as an ear of corn; soon to be buttered as it slid back
and forth inside the tight lubricated depths of her rectum.

Pam tried to pull back, her arms sweeping over the table. She banged her
fists in anguish, but before she could even attempt to pull free and
straighten up, Justin was already in position to consummate yet another
of his searing erotic fantasies, a reverie he fully intended to
transmute into the stuff of reality and brutal savage actuality.

He rubbed what was left of the greasy butter all along the hard
pulsating length of his mule-cock. “Hold steady, baby,” he warned her,
letting go of his dick to use both of his hands. He pulled her
shuddering buns as far apart as he could, stretching the tightly
contracted perianal flesh that surrounded her sunken and pitted pink
asshole.

“Oh please, please don’t do this to me, Justin,” she whimpered, knowing
that she could not pull free or escape his steely and determined
clutches. His violent display, his sexual insatiability, were things she
could not cope with and even as she felt him pulling her buns apart, she
knew that she would have to submit, that this was indeed just the
beginning, just the start of the new rules he had explained would now be
taking effect in their relationship.

“Bix has done it, so why not me?” Justin asked. “If it’s good enough for
a fucking dog, isn’t it good enough for your lover?”

She had no answer to that, but she still held her sphincter muscles as
tightly as she could, fearing the pain his anal assault would result in,
the tearing burning agony of being forced to submit to his sodomizing
wrath.

Justin ignored her sobbing whimpers. If anything, her fear, the way she
looked upon this as a rape, only served to turn him on all the more. She
had inflamed him through fellatio, and now he fully intended to stoke
the fires of his lust by a savage bout of buggery.

Accordingly, he now let go of one of her shuddering buttocks, his
fingers curling around the middle of his steely cock-shaft. He pulled
his pecker down until the rounded bulbous glans, still leaking pre-come
at a fast and furious rate, was perfectly aligned with the tight rosy
aperture that was her bottom-hole.

He pushed his thighs up against the backs of her legs, pinning her down
against the top of the kitchen table. And then he thrust forward with
maddened and wild-eyed excitement. The head of his battering ram made
contact with her tight rosy anus and Pam screamed out in horror as she
felt the insistent pressure of his penis.

But Justin was not about to stop. Her display of terror added to his
excitement and he clapped one hand over her mouth, stifling her cries of
protestation, not wanting any of her neighbors to hear her moaning as
she struggled to break free of his sodomizing grasp.

“Relax, bitch. You love me, don’t you? Well, love this, sugar,” he
sneered, thrusting down a second time even as he pressed his palm over
her mouth and kept her buns apart with his other hand.

The muscular pressure, his weight seemingly centered all along the
bottom half of his torso and the column of throbbing quivering man-flesh
all combined to aid him in his quest. Pam was groaning behind his hand,
incensed too that Bix had done nothing to come to her defense.

The terrier hadn’t even barked, but that was no doubt due to the fact
that the Scottie was quite accustomed to Justin’s presence, having never
been shown this violent side of the man. He saw Justin as a friend and
so even as Whitlock tried to shove his cock up Pam’s ass, the terrier
trotted out from under the table, wagging his tail and looking up at
them with canine curiosity.

Justin hadn’t even thought about the dog. Now, seeing Bix out of the
corner of his eye, he was glad that the Scottie wasn’t fucking up his
plans. He would come in handy too, Justin decided, once he managed to
stow the entire length of his rod right up her poop.

Pam kept shaking. She tried to keep her asshole as tightly clenched as
possible. But all of her efforts to maintain its inviolability were in
vain. Justin, much stronger than her, was emboldened by his excitement.
He was not about to take no for an answer, to fail where he had always
succeeded with Pam in the past.

And, as a result of this determination, he was able to feel the way the
head of his cock was pushing her perianal folds apart, digging deeper
and slowly but surely making headway. She too felt the way her anal
aperture was being wrenched wide and she gasped, her sphincter muscles
loosening for an instant.

But the sudden cessation of constricting pressure enabled Justin to
shove forward until the head of his cock was completely buried inside of
her ass. It rubbed along her buttered rectal walls and she sobbed, her
body racked with fear. “Relax,” he said again, calming down a little bit
now that he felt the worst was over, now that he had begun to make
contact.

She shuddered against him and he eased his dick forward, more gentle
now, taking his time. He looked down and finally let go of her mouth.
She was still whimpering, but she didn’t scream out any longer. Justin
pulled both of her buns wider apart as he watched the way her previously
tight little slit of an anus had now spread grotesquely wide, distended
by the invading bulk of his rigid boner.

He thrust down against her, easing one hard hot inch of meat after
another into place. His shaft rubbed against her quivering rectal walls
and the more he thrust forward, the calmer Pam became. She was
responding, despite her initial fears to the contrary. Her ass felt
blocked and stuffed, but the pain was diminishing the deeper he stroked.

And when she shoved her buns back, wanting still more of his hard manly
weapon, Justin licked the back of her neck and smiled to himself,
knowing that from then on in everything was going to work out fine,
absolutely perfect.

He pushed down until his pubes scratched her bum furrow, the entire
length of his penis hidden from sight, stowed within the tight buttered
depths of her quivering rectal canal. Pam groaned more hotly, able to
feel the way her cunt was also distended by the pressure of Justin’s
dick sliding into her rectum.

More juice sluiced down her overheated vaginal walls and she wiggled her
buns, riding his pole of steely man-flesh. Justin was getting wildly
turned on. Just as he had suspected, Pam’s ass was even tighter and far
more gripping than her virginal twat. Fucking her pussy was one thing,
and a pleasurable and highly satisfying thing at that. But corn-holing
her was something else altogether.

One was neither better nor worse than the other. They were merely
different sides of the same erotic coin and he eased his meat halfway
out and then thrust forward again, frictioning and scraping his boner
against her rectal passageway.

“Relax, keep your muscles loose and it won’t hurt at all,” he told her.
His balls flicked against the drooping bottom edge of her muff, adding
to their rapidly mounting pleasure. “I told you you’d get off on it.
This is all part of trusting me, baby.”

She was too aroused to reply, concentrating upon the pleasure which was
building up inside of her ass and pussy. He quickened the tempo of his
back and forth strokes, thrusting his dick in and out of her ass as she
began to clench and unclench her sphincter muscles in response.

The rhythm of their dual movements made him howl like an alley cat. He
was so turned on that he couldn’t hold back and he rammed into her ass
with all of his strength. She groaned, but it was not a sound of
physical pain. If anything, the harder he stroked, the more vigorously
and wildly he pounded his joystick in and out of her burning poop, the
more turned on and hot Pam fast became.

He plowed into her tight little heinie, kept himself completely horsed
and ensheathed, right up to his swatting fist-like balls, and then
proceeded to pull her back from the table. Careful not to hurt her, for
he knew pain could result if he moved too quickly, Justin maneuvered his
body and Pam’s down to the floor.

Soon she was squatting on all fours and he was kneeling right behind
her, holding onto her waist and not her jugs and pounding in and out
with renewed excitement. But now, they were in such a position that Bix
could finally get into the act.

There could be no doubt that the terrier knew what was taking place. The
sights and sounds and aromas that filled the kitchen were all sexual in
content and Bix crawled down between Pam’s outstretched arms. She had
her palms flat on the tile floor and she leaned forward, making room for
her dog, delighted then that Bix was going to add to her rapidly
mounting sexual pleasure.

“Tell me … everything,” groaned Justin, able to see where Bix was
headed, tail wagging and tongue extended.

At that moment, even as he doubled the tempo of his battering
cock-strokes, loving the way she was getting so accustomed to
corn-holing that she worked her buns hotly around his pole, Bix was just
beginning to use his tongue with wild canine expertise.

Pam cried out with delight the instant she felt the Scottie’s raspy
file-like tongue sliding over her juicy quim. Hot sap streamed down
between her cunt lobes and Bix licked her moist overheated mons, his
cold wet button of a nose tickling her cunt furrow as he tried to push
his tongue even deeper inside.

To aid him in that, Justin slid one hand around until his fingers made
contact with the top edge of Pam Harper’s gaping cunt split. He pushed
her cunt lips wider apart, letting go only when he could feel Bix’s
tongue digging right inside of her dilated split.

“Yes, more, harder. Oh do it, fuck me, pound it in, give it to me,” she
wailed, the combination of sensations, the bestial tongue sliding around
her clit and vulva and Justin’s bestial mule-cock ramming in and out of
her tight burning asshole, all served to arouse her to a fever pitch of
imminent release.

Her cunt walls fluttered again and again and Justin ground his hips
against her buttocks. He held onto her waist and thrust with maddened
delight, knowing that at this rate he wasn’t going to be able to
maintain his usual tempered control for too much longer.

“I’ll come … make me come. It’s so big, so fucking thick. You’re an
animal, a fucking bear!” she groaned. He pulled her sweater up to her
neck, leaning forward so that he could rub his hairy chest over her
back. His fingers pulled at her tits; squeezing them and tweaking each
ruddy turgid nipple.

Every part of her body was on fire and she felt her climax rearing up
inside of her, ready to take flight, to explode with passion and
unbelievable delight. Justin’s nuts kept tickling her cunt lips and Bix
continued to lick and sponge down her muff with his hard rough-edged
tongue.

It was then that Justin saw another searing erotic image flashing across
his mind. His imagination took wing, fed by the rare pleasures of Pam
Harper’s hot young body and her hot tight ass, in particular. He hadn’t
even thought of this, but now he was determined to see the new idea
through, to make it happen just as he had made her accept his hard
bristling pecker.

So he stopped short and gasped for breath. “Don’t … don’t come yet.
Wait,” he stammered, his hard muscular chest rising and falling as he
tried to calm down and not shoot his load prematurely.

It was all she could do to hold her own orgasm back. And when he urged
her to push Bix away from her cunt, she was more than just reluctant to
do so. Nevertheless, she followed his orders, knowing that he was not
doing this merely to prevent her from enjoying herself.

“Now just move with me,” he told her then. Ever so carefully, still
keeping his pecker completely buried inside of her shuddering clutching
poop-chute, Justin eased his legs out from under him, first one and then
the other.

He stretched them out as Pam kept kneeling on all fours. When he managed
to slide his legs out, he was thus able to lie back on the kitchen
floor. “Now stretch your legs out and lean back against me,” he said,
gasping loudly. He pushed forward, making sure that his cock didn’t slip
out of the delicious confinement of her tight little bottom.

Pam grunted and with some difficulty finally managed to change positions
without losing his hard jutting cock. She was soon enough leaning back
against him. Justin pulled her sweater down, hoped the positioning
wouldn’t prove to be a hindrance, and stretched his arms back behind
him, palms flat on the floor to support his weight.

He lifted himself up, bending his knees and rocking back and forth with
his cock completely buried inside of her ass. Her back was against his
chest and she bent her own legs, spreading them wide and suddenly
realizing why they had gone through all of this complicated
repositioning.

Because now, she didn’t even need him to tell her what to do next. Her
meaty cunt was thrust out and she called Bix over to her so that she was
soon enough able to pull his black-haired body right up against her
chest. The sweater prevented his nails from digging into her tit-flesh.

She hadn’t even considered the fact that Bix’s bony doodle wouldn’t be
hard and glistening, exposed and sticking out from its protective hairy
sheath. It was in exactly that rigid erect state and no sooner had she
urged him to throw his front paws up against her chest when Bix jerked
forward, blindly attempting to ram his bony article right between the
twin gaping lips of her shuddering cooze.

Justin grinned broadly; doubly delighted that they had not only
succeeded in moving into this new position, but that Pam had known what
had motivated him to do so. He hadn’t even had to tell her to call Bix
over. And that delighted him to no end, demonstrating that she was
becoming more sympathetic to his vibes, to his every thought patterns
and erotic yearnings.

At that moment Bix succeeded, thanks to the kind attentions of his
excited and horny owner. Pam grabbed the dog’s bony penis with one hand,
pulled Bix down with the other and didn’t stop maneuvering him until she
felt the pointy head of his wet hot dick rubbing right between her puffy
vaginal lips.

And then she let out a low-pitched groan of delight as Bix managed to
stuff the entire length of his short though stimulating penis right into
place. It scraped delightfully against her inflamed and burning clit and
it was then that Justin too began to use his cock with renewed vigor and
determination.

He leaned over, able to see exactly what Bix was doing. The sight of the
dog’s glistening red cock sliding and humping in and out of Pam’s muff
inflamed his senses and he thrust upwards, even as she alternately
ground her ass down over his meat, her cunt muscles shuddering too as
they sought to clutch and nip at Bix’s bony doodle.

Pam gave in to her delight then, so turned on, so filled with
excitement, that she let her climax overwhelm her less than a minute
after Bix had rammed the entire hard length of his spike-like pecker
into her muff.

Her wild lusty scream of ecstasy aroused Justin to a fever pitch. He
pounded in and out, scraping his huge throbbing boner deep within the
buttered recesses of her clutching churning ass. “Do it, baby. Shoot it,
come, come,” he begged, holding onto her even as he corn-holed her ass
and watched Bix pumping his dog-meat in and out of her cunt.

Justin could just about feel the invading presence of the terrier’s
prick, sliding along the other side of the septum that divided Pam’s
pussy from her ass. It intensified his own sense of pleasure and he
worked still harder, wanting to let loose and flood her ass with hot
molten jism, thick curds of come to soothe the raw and ravished flesh of
her bottom.

As for Pam, she was riding the crest of her climax, overwhelmed by the
intensity of her release. Bix’s cock was moving at a breakneck rate,
pistoning so quickly that Pam could barely see the way the entire length
of the dog’s boner was hammering in and out of her tight juicy muff.

Hot floods of sap streamed down, oozing out of her cooze and then down
past the bottom edge of her pussy to further lubricate her already
sweaty and buttered bum furrow. Justin could feel the warm oily liquid
and he pulled her up and down against his meat, his cock squishing
impatiently, the folds of penanal flesh surrounding her anus adhering
tightly to the sides of his steely member.

“Yes, keep going, don’t stop coming,” he told her then, panting as he
felt himself about to lose control. He kept his hands around her waist
and kept pulling her down, forcing her to twist left and right so that
his cock seemed to corkscrew in and out of her burning ass.

The pressure of his hard-on and the way Bix was ramming his own pointy
stiff dick in and out of her pussy, made Pam continue to shudder, one
climax melting imperceptibly into another so that all she could do was
moan and shake on the floor, completely out of control.

And then it was Justin’s turn, time for him to give in to his own
searing brand of erotic release and sexual fulfillment. He rubbed his
chest over her back, wrapped his hands around her waist and let loose,
no longer interested in holding back. He pumped vigorously and
determinedly, pulling her down against him so that she was soon enough
lying right on top of his hot naked body. Pam squirmed and thrashed
about, feeling the driving power of Justin’s meaty dick as it tunneled
and scraped in and out of her shuddering poop.

She would never have believed this possible, the intensity of pleasure
she was now experiencing, the way more and more cunt juice flooded her
quim, the way her orgasms seemed to merge one after another into an
incoherent burning peak of erotic fulfillment.

“Please, oh please … yes, come, come with me,” she begged, barely able
to speak straight as she held Bix in place, savoring the swift
penetrating jabs of the Scottie’s bony tool.

Even Bix was getting close to the point of ejaculation. He yapped and
whimpered the way he did when he slept, pounding his dick deep inside of
his master’s pussy. The way his cock rubbed over her clit made Pam go
berserk and she kept twisting herself on top of Justin’s body, feeling
the way his skin was touching her flesh, the two of them so completely
and totally at one with each other that she wanted it to go on like this
forever.

But forever is a long word and Justin couldn’t hold back any longer.
With a feverish bellow of delight he let loose. His balls seemed to
tighten, drawn up high within his dangling scrotal sac. And then, with a
supreme physical effort, he hurled himself up against Pam, plowing his
cock as deeply inside of her heinie as he possibly could.

Her screams of excitement mingled with Bix’s wild yapping and Justin
Whitlock’s frenzied low-pitched groans. Hot spurts of come began to
jettison out of the swollen and deeply buried head of his pecker,
splashing thickly into Pam’s stuffed and well-filled ass. She could feel
the increase in lubricity, the way his boner was shuddering
convulsively.

“Yes, shit, feel it, feel the load. Oh shit, so much come, all this
fucking come,” he panted, babbling incoherently as he was caught up in
the throes of his own tumultuous and searing release. They rolled from
side to side a moment later, more come still pouring out of the head of
Justin’s cock, Bix finally joined them in the pleasure of their lusty
release.

The dog seemed to stiffen and he howled almost eerily, jerking his wet
bony pecker all the way into place. Pam held him down and closed her
eyes as the first swift gushes of dog-come poured into her feverish and
overheated cooze.

The combination of Bix coming and Justin still shooting his powerful and
abundant seed deep within the recesses of her cunt and asshole, served
to trigger another series of multiorgasmic tremors. Her skin was ruddy,
glowing with color and breathlessly she tried to keep Bix on top of her,
not wanting to either relinquish the spearing pleasure of the dog’s tool
or Justin’s hard meaty mallet, filling her ass to the breaking point.

But he could only give her so much. Even as Bix continued to come,
Justin sank down on the floor, bathed in the sweat of his delightful
exertions. It had been better than he had even dared to imagine the
intensity and depth of his orgasm something that still filled him with a
sense of awe and wonder.

A minute or two later Bix slid back and sat up on the kitchen floor,
yellow dog-come dribbling out of the spikey tip of his bony pecker, More
yellow jism matted Pam’s tawny pubic bush and she closed her eyes and
lay flat on top of Justin, feeling too how his pecker was slowly but
surely losing its stiffness and steely rigidity.

He hadn’t lied, she knew then. She had been forced to go along with him,
at least in the beginning. But now she was glad that she had, that she
hadn’t put up that much of a fight so as to discourage him completely.

If anything, the way Justin had overpowered her, using mental as well as
physical force and violence, now seemed pleasing, especially in
retrospect. The element of human and canine rape and forced sodomizing
sex had only turned Pam on all the more. As she lay there, she wondered
what would happen next, what stage their relationship would move into,
taking on another set of values and concepts, strangely perverse,
bestial to the extreme, yet unquestionably exciting and erotically
rewarding.

She might be wondering what was going to happen. But even then, Justin
Whitlock had it all worked out, down to the smallest detail.

Chapter 7

In the back seat of the rented car, Bix and Holmes had their front paws
up against the edge of the car door. The side windows had been lowered
and the Scottish terrier and his companion, Holmes the liver-hued
Doberman pinscher, kept their muzzles forward, watching the cars that
passed them on the road, moving in the opposite direction from the one
Justin was taking.

In the front seat, Pam lit another cigarette and crossed her legs,
displaying her inner state of nervousness and anxiety. Justin had told
her little about the weekend’s outing, only getting her to make the
necessary preparations so that the young man who helped out on the
weekends could be trusted to run the shop properly that Saturday, as
well as to close it up for Sunday.

“Where are we going again?” she asked him, casting Justin a petulant and
almost exasperated grin.

“Sidonville my darling. To the sleepy yet lusty little hamlet of
Sidonville, U.S.A., located in the very heartland of historic and scenic
New England, precious,” grinned back Justin. He slid one hand down off
the wheel, reached across the front seat and patted her gently on top of
her nearest leg. “Now don’t get uptight, so early on in the day. After
all, it’s not even noon. And what are surprises for, anyway, if you know
what they’re going to turn out to be before they even have a chance to
happen.”

“Well,” she began, unable to come up with the right words. “It’s just
that …”

“It’s just what?”

“It’s just so mysterious, that’s all. I mean, we’re taking this trip,
we’ve been on the road since nine o’clock this morning, and I still
haven’t the foggiest idea about what’s going on, or where we’re supposed
to end up.”

“We’re supposed to end up at Sidonville. Or, to be perfectly exact about
it, at a small farm … for want of a better word … five or so miles
from the town proper,” Justin announced.

At the mention of the word farm, Pam sank down against the front seat,
not sure if she should be sad or happy, nervous or animated and filled
with positive expectations. She recalled then what he had said to her
the night they had discussed their relationship, the night which had
culminated in a bout of searing anal and animal sex. She cringed
slightly, almost as if she could still feel his powerfully thick virile
member surging in and out of her stretched and burning asshole.

But the pleasure had been just as intense as he had promised. Now, she
wondered why she felt such a strange morbid sense of apprehension and
discomfort, ill at ease about the prospect of visiting a farm with
Justin Whitlock.

“Whose farm is it?” she asked him then.

“Well, I can see that surprises are useless, so I might as well get down
to basics and tell you,” he decided after a moment’s pause for silent
introspection. “It’s actually a big old New England colonial house where
my friend lives. He keeps a lot of animals around, though not for any
great commercial or business reasons. I mean, he doesn’t support himself
running a farm, milking cows or raising chickens.”

“Then how does he … support himself, I mean?” she asked, growing more
curious and thus more interested in what he was finally revealing.

“He’s one of those fortunate people who don’t have to do any work at
all, to tell you the truth. He lives off his investments, or his daddy’s
investments, to be more exact about it. He was left enough to live quite
decently without having to hassle himself about a nine-to-five job.”

“Which you approve of, wholeheartedly, I take it,” she added.

He looked at her, not sure if she was annoyed or not. “Shit, yes. I
mean, why not, kiddo? Lloyd paints a little, like me. And he’s an
amateur photographer. And he grows vegetables and raises animals. He’s
perfectly content.”

“But unmarried.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Justin replied. “Is there anything the
matter with being a bachelor? I thought you were the kind of woman who
relished her independence, not having to suffer the slings and arrows of
male chauvinist pigs.”

“And so your unmarried bachelor friend with enough money up his ass to
live the life of Riley, just happens to invite us up to his farm for the
weekend. How convenient,” and she pouted, folding her hands across her
chest.

At that instant, Justin swerved the car violently to the right, the
wheels spinning over the gravel shoulder. He pulled on the brake as Pam
was thrown forward; just able to grab hold of the dashboard before her
head struck the windshield. Bix had toppled off the front seat, but now
he scooted back into the seat, none the worse for wear.

“What was that all about, may I ask!” Pam snapped.

“Listen kiddo,” he said, trying to control his temper. “Let’s get one
thing straight, right here and now. Either you go along with me and stop
acting like some fucking spoiled brat, or else I’ll just turn the car
around and head back to the city and we can call it quits from now on
in. The choice is yours. I told you last week what I expected from you.
You went along with me. That’s what commitment is all about, kiddo. Not
acting the way you’ve been doing, sticking your nose in the air and
pretending to be something that you’re not.”

“Such as what?”

“Such as a ball-busting cunt, for starters,” Justin barked. “I said I
wanted you to fuck a pig, baby. Well, Lloyd has just the right porker
we’ve been looking for. And he has a couple of sheep, some goats, a nice
tight-assed little mare, the whole works. Any more questions? Or are you
still not interested? Yes or no?”

She had never really expected him to attempt to make good what he had
told her that night at her apartment. She had never dreamed he would go
this far, actually taking her to a farm to consummate some of his
perversely bestial schemes, his erotic fantasies. But now, Pam knew that
he wasn’t bullshitting, that the moment had finally reached the
proportions and colors of black-and-white reality. And it was now up to
her to either accept his ultimatums or else refuse to go along with
them.

If she chose the latter tack, she knew that their relationship would be
over, right then and there. And now, as she looked over at him as he sat
with his hands on the wheel and his face bristling with ill-concealed
annoyance, the last thing in the world she wanted was for Justin
Whitlock to disappear from her life.

To return to an existence of loneliness was something she could no
longer even bear to think about, let alone handle. “Okay,” she
whispered. “You win. Whatever you say, Justin, whatever you say.”

He started up the car in silence and didn’t say a single word to her
until she could see the white clapboard farmhouse filling her field of
vision. They had arrived and now, she was about to embark on a journey
she had never even contemplated before, a journey into a world that was
one of complete and total sexual abandon, a world where everything was
possible and everything could happen. And what made it all the more
difficult for her to deal with, was the fact that she didn’t for one
minute doubt what the outcome would be, how Justin would emerge
victoriously, getting her to perform according to the vagaries of his
every sexual and erotic whim.

No sooner had Justin pulled up in front of the farmhouse, than he rubbed
his hands together and turned to glance over at Pam Harper. She was
staring straight ahead, her eyes having taken on a kind of lost and
glassy look. He watched her for a moment and then let himself out of the
car.

The air was thick with the smells of verdure, lush vegetation and clean
mountain air. But even more than that, Justin could smell the
characteristically animal aromas, which wafted through the air. It was a
scent he had always relished, a heavy earthy smell, manure and sweaty
livestock, all mingling into an elusive perfume which began to
immediately arouse his senses and heighten his sexual plans and
expectations about the weekend’s singularly uninhibited activities.

Pam followed him out of the car, a little surprised that Lloyd hadn’t
come out of the house to greet them. She let the dogs out and they
scampered off, running around to the back of the house. Leaving Bix and
Holmes to their own inquisitive canine devices, she moved towards
Justin.

He was seemingly lost in thought, but the minute she reached out and put
her hand on his shoulder, he jerked to attention and looked down at her
with a broad and toothy grin, a smile that was at once comforting yet
disarming.

“Methinks friend Lloyd is up to some tricks of his own,” Justin said
with a sly little wink.

He took hold of her hand and having been to the farm before, he had no
trouble leading Pam around the back of the silent house to where he
remembered Lloyd kept his livestock.

Sure enough, a ramshackle but still upright wooden structure behind the
house proved to be the barn where the animals were paddocked when they
weren’t out grazing in the fields which stretched out around them.

And, even more than that, Justin could feel the tension in the air, the
silence broken by the rustle of leaves in the trees, by the droning buzz
of insects and honeybees. No birds broke the quietude with a restless
chirping call. But if he failed to hear birds singing, he didn’t fail to
hear something snorting and whinnying with loud and almost painful
insistence.

Pam heard the sounds too. They emanated from the barn and Justin led her
right in their direction. They grew louder, painful neighs and whinnies,
a cacophony of snorting thunderous cries and stomping hooves. “What’s
going on in there?” she whispered, a little frightened as she held onto
his hand, clutching at his arm while they stood by the sliding door
which led into the old wooden barn.

“Want to take a peek?” he said, winking at her once again. He knew
exactly what was going on inside of the barn, having enjoyed the act the
last time he had spent a weekend at the farm. But he didn’t intend to
tell Pam, wanting to surprise her, curious to see how aroused she would
become. And not only by what his lusty and sexually insatiable friend
was doing, but also by the fact of Lloyd’s singularly amazing generative
parts.

“A disease, the result of some childish malaise, fever of the brain,” he
had once said jokingly to Justin.

But it was no disease which had given Lloyd his exceptionally vigorous
equipment, equipment which Justin knew Pam would not believe real, even
when she saw it with her own two eyes. The stomping of hooves echoed in
the air and he pulled the barn door open and stuck his head inside,
motioning Pam to silence. Then, tiptoeing forward, he led her into the
musty wooden structure, trying not to betray his presence as dry straw
cracked and rustled beneath their feet.

“Shh,” he whispered, pointing to the far end of the barn where a wooden
stall obscured the frenzy of activity taking place within its narrow
confines. “Don’t say a word.”

Pam still had no idea of what was happening. But she trusted Justin to
the letter and followed him, trying to be as silent as she could. Once
they reached the paddock, the sound of hoofbeats and snorting equine
whinnies was louder than ever. She looked down, able to see the inside
of the stall, visible between the space of two warped and weathered
boards.

And when she saw not only four equine hoofs, but a pair of booted human
feet, she knew what was happening even before Justin hoisted her up so
that she could peer over the top edge of one side of the wooden stall.

No sooner had she trained her eyes into the stall, when she gave a gasp
of such incredible disbelief that her breath stuck in her throat and her
eyes remained wide and glassy, stuck open with the sheer intensity of
her amazement.

Fortunately or perhaps not, the mare within the stall was bucking and
snorting, squealing out so loudly that the man who was positioned right
behind the frenzied animal failed to hear Pam Harper’s loud gasp of
complete and utter disbelief.

Justin pulled himself up until he too was able to peer inside the narrow
confines of the animal’s pen. It was Lloyd all right, busy as always and
now so intensely preoccupied that he was oblivious to their presence, to
their twin looks of sheer and dumbfounded amazement, their faces
reddened with hot blushes of awe and wonder.

Even Justin, who had experienced exactly what Lloyd was doing, who had
seen his friend performing in this manner on several occasions in the
past, was still shocked and filled with wonder as well as envy. For now,
as he and Pam kept staring with wild-eyed astonishment, marveling at
Lloyd’s unique and unparalleled performance, they could see exactly what
was causing all the racket inside of the wooden stall.

Lloyd was positioned directly behind the outspread legs of a chestnut
mare. She was no oversized quarter horse, ill suited to this kind of
activity, but a small Shetland pony, not very many hands high. And her
short compact size suited Lloyd’s needs and bestial desires perfectly.

He did not have to perch himself on top of a wooden box to gain access
to the pony’s swollen and oversized violet genitals, but merely had to
position himself directly behind her hindquarters, taking care to avoid
an occasional backward kick from her stomping hooves.

Pam just couldn’t believe her eyes, to put it mildly. Her nostrils
winced as she inhaled the strong biting odor which now wafted up in the
air, a pungent steamy aroma that became more heavy, more cloying and
intense with the passage of each second. And as her nostrils kept
flaring open, as she kept her eyes glued straight before her, she
watched the way Justin’s friend was slamming his cock in and out of the
mare’s swollen and lubricious hole.

He had seemingly rammed his hose right through the horsehair of her
tail, ensheathing himself up to the root. His pistoning member hurtled
back and forth with engine-like force and Lloyd was sweating as
copiously as the pony, his hands gripping the mare’s flanks and his feet
planted stolidly behind her.

His jeans were bunched around the tops of his boots and he wore no
shirt, his naked body bristling with the same kind of muscular energy
his cock was now vigorously displaying. But it was no ordinary cock and
that, coupled with the sight of a man fucking a horse, all combined to
make Pam feel weak with disbelief and sudden unprecedented desire.

A violent tremor seized her body and she clung to the top edge of the
stall, nearly falling back and losing her balance as she suddenly began
to come, right then and there. Hot curds of sap streamed down her
feverish cunt walls, dripping down along the insides of her shuddering
thighs.

Had there been a stallion in the barn, she would no doubt have thrown
herself upon the animal, exhibiting the same kind of insatiable sexual
frenzy Lloyd was demonstrating. If anything, it was what had turned her
on so completely and now, shivering and caught up in the throes of her
inexplicable release, Pam could only hold onto the top edge of the stall
as if for dear life.

It was then that Lloyd heard her and the red-faced man turned his head
in her direction. He broke into a broad and toothy grin, never stopping
his strenuous exercises for one second. Justin winked back and said
nothing. He didn’t know that Pam was coming, all eyes to the way Lloyd
was slamming his penis in and out of the mare’s slobbering and juicy
trench.

The pony was whinnying frantically and the biting aroma filled his
senses. But what amazed him even more than this, was the way Lloyd was
going at it with superhuman endurance and delight. Justin had done the
very same thing. But despite the handsome and far from puny dimensions
of his own stiff-standing pecker, he had found the pony’s pussy far too
big for him to really enjoy the rare bestial pleasure of plowing in and
out of her ravished twat.

Not so for Lloyd.

Justin could tell at a glance that the fit was perfect, that the
Shetland pony’s cunt afforded Lloyd excellent tactility and a
stimulating, frictioning grip. Fuck, he thought to himself, she doesn’t
need a stallion … she has one.

Pam was thinking along identical lines, still not believing her eyes or
the fact that she had orgasmed so spontaneously, not even having touched
herself before her passions had exploded, clutching at her insides.

More cunt juice dripped down between her legs. Her panties were soaking
wet and she knew that if she took them off, she would be just about able
to wring them out like a dishrag. But before that happened, Lloyd–now
made aware of their dual presence in the barn–put on the final surges
of energy, heading towards the grand-slam finish.

His fingers gripped the pony’s flanks as tightly as he could. He thrust
maddeningly, his heavy grapefruit-sized balls smacking like a cudgel
between his straining loins. But it was his cock that felt the tight
tension of the pony’s burning cunt. The mare kept neighing and the
muscular walls of her lubricated vagina seemed to ripple burningly again
and again, clutching as if to evacuate Lloyd’s preposterously
Brobdingnagian tool.

For that and that alone was what had gotten to Pam Harper. Not the
pungent cloying sexual aroma of the man fornicating with the horse. Not
the way the pony was whinnying in heated animalistic response. It was
not these things, highly arousing unto themselves, or even the fact that
Lloyd was built along similar muscular lines as Justin.

No, it was simply the man’s cock that had made Pam nearly topple off the
wooden railing against which she now clung as precariously as the last
leaf on a wind-lashed branch. Her eyes were glued between the man’s legs
and even as she stared, Lloyd suddenly stiffened and let loose.

A loud frenzied scream bubbled forth from between his lips. He hung onto
the pony’s flanks as if for dear life while she, in turn, neighed
frantically and raised her front hooves, striking the side of the stall
with stomping agony.

“Yes, here it comes, Babe, now, feel it, Babe, now!” Lloyd screamed out
to Babe, the Shetland pony he had decided to bugger that afternoon.

Whether Babe was responding or not was something neither Justin nor Pam
even worried or thought about. It was Lloyd’s response that was getting
to them and no longer able to control himself, the muscular “farmer”
flung himself forward and pressed his chest down against the pony’s
back.

Another series of muscular tremors coursed through his body and then, as
he began to moan with frantic pleasure and delight, his balls
contracted. The first lightning-like bolts of semen flew up the deeply
ensheathed length of his tool, splashing out of his unseen glans.

A veritable flood of semen now began to pour mercilessly into the pony’s
ravished vagina, hot curds of lubricious jism that cascaded like a
fountain or a fire hose gone out of control. Babe slowly began to quiet
down as more and more cream surged into her muff.

And all this time, even as Pam and Justin kept staring, open-mouthed
with awe, wonder and wild lusty delight, Lloyd kept moaning like a
lunatic. He was barely able to see straight, having purposely denied
himself a fuck with Babe for nearly a week. Now, his pent-up sexual
needs and passions were exploding and he could think of nothing but the
insensible pleasure he was deriving.

But finally, his balls were drained dry and he could come no longer. He
leaned against Babe and gasped as he tried to catch his breath. Pam and
Justin said nothing, still staring, dazzled by Lloyd’s frenzied and
supersexual performance.

Justin had seen his friend in action before, but rarely as heatedly and
frenetically as he had been during these past few minutes. Pam let out a
soft low-pitched sigh and shook her head, waiting to see what would
happen when Justin’s friend pulled back, releasing his cock from Babe’s
tight vaginal grip.

It happened less than a minute later. Suitably recovered, Lloyd wiped
his hand across his forehead and gently eased back, pushing Babe away
from him. She lowered her head and shook her mane, no doubt thankful
that the ordeal was finally at an end.

Then, with a loud lubricious sound, a series of squishing noises, Lloyd
pulled his unerect cock out into the open. Pam opened her eyes even
wider, took one look at the length of hose which now dangled about the
man’s knees, and fell back as if she was going to faint dead away.

Justin caught her as she toppled off her perch. He grabbed her up in his
arms with a laugh, gently slapping her across the face. She looked at
him; unable to speak; still not believing that what she had just seen
had not been a mirage, some freaky erotic hallucination.

But as she stood upright again, the stall door opened and a grinning
amused Lloyd stepped out before them, his jeans still down around his
ankles, his pride etched across the surface of his skin. “What’s all the
big excitement about?” he said, staring right at Pam with a look of
leering wolfish desire.

And once again, Pam gaped, still not sure if this was all real, if it
was happening, and happening to her, right then and there. For she could
not stop staring at the immense swollen length of meat which swayed and
dangled obscenely between the man’s grizzly thickset thighs. Even now,
in a flaccid and unerect state, she could immediately ascertain the kind
of dimensions it would ultimately achieve when blood was once again
pumped and trapped inside the inhumanly oversized weapon.

More than ten inches of proud ivory-white cock hung down to Lloyd’s
knees, swinging like a length of cream-colored rubber hose. Devoid of
foreskin, the naked exposed glans was like the size of her fist, split
down the middle by the line of his meatus, his piss-hole capped with a
large opalescent drop of after-come.

Flecks of viscous semen adhered to the length of his rod and he allowed
her the unspoken privilege of staring at his equipment, letting her gape
and take it all in with her wide and disbelieving eyes. Pam could see
how the thickness of his shaft nearly matched the same dimension as the
circumference of her wrist.

“Unbelievable,” she finally said aloud.

“I’d be inclined to agree,” seconded Justin, his own potent hard-on
still tenting out of the front of his blue jeans. He moved over to Lloyd
and extended his hand, thumping his friend good-naturedly on the back.
“Pam Harper, I’d like you to meet Lloyd Nichols.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she whispered as Lloyd hitched up his jeans and
with some difficulty managed to stuff his unerect pecker down inside of
his dungarees.

“There’s a pot of coffee on the stove. How about a cup of coffee before
I show you around,” Lloyd suggested. And when Pam nodded her head
agreeably, he winked at her once again and returned to Babe’s stall just
long enough to feed her several sugar cubes he kept for just that
purpose in one of the pockets of his overalls.

After that treat had been dispensed and Babe’s sore and ravished vulva
soothed with some medicated ointment, a lotion which Lloyd also kept
handy whenever it was necessary to use the stuff, he led them out of the
barn and through the back door of the house, right into the sunny and
cozy kitchen.

Coffee was certainly in order and the strong brew helped calm Pam down.
She sat at the oak table as Justin and Lloyd exchanged small talk,
catching up on what had been happening in their lives since they had
last seen each other. Her fingers trembled as she recalled all that she
had seen, heard and smelled.

Now, more than ever before, she was beginning to understand what Justin
had been trying to tell her, what it was he had tried so persistently to
explain about the meaning of openness and the definition of commitment
and love.

Her reveries and introspective pose were interrupted when Lloyd turned
around in his seat to address her. “Tell me, since we really haven’t
gotten a chance to know each other better, not yet in any event … what
did you think of my … uh … my performance back there, in the barn?”

Pam grinned and held onto her coffee mug with both hands. She knew he
didn’t need her around to flatter him or give him ego-feeding
compliments. He was asking a serious question for reasons he alone
understood and she cleared her throat and stared him right in the eye,
saying, “I won’t be content to leave your farm unless you’ve tried that
trick out with me, instead of your horse.”

Justin laughed and banged his hands down against the tops of his thighs.
“Told you this one was a winner, Lloyd,” he announced. “She’s got
everything going for her. Smarts, looks, the whole number. All we have
to teach her this weekend is the meaning of complete and total abandon,
giving herself up to hedonism, to sex of every type and description.”

She was about to interrupt when she let out a startled little gasp, her
hand coming up to her mouth as something trotted unperturbedly into the
kitchen. The animal stuck its snout up against Lloyd’s leg and waited
for Justin’s friend to reach down and rub his fingers up against its
head.

“I told you all about Chester,” Justin grinned.

“Chester?” whispered Pam. She looked down at the animal. It was a solid
white pig, its sparsely haired skin glowing as healthily as the coat on
a well cared for dog or any other house pet. That reminded her of Bix
and Holmes. “Where are the dogs?” she asked.

“Out back, having a ball,” Lloyd said, pointing out the kitchen window
so that she followed the direction of his out-thrust hand until she saw
Bix and Holmes chasing after each other, heading right behind the barn
to the alfalfa fields.

She turned her eyes back to stare at the pig, still pushing its snout
against Lloyd’s knee. “Well, it’s time you met Chester here, instead of
just hearing about him. Mr. Chester, this here is Miss Pam Harper,”
Lloyd laughed.

Surprisingly, at least as far as Pam was concerned, the pig turned a
pair of doleful interested eyes in her direction. She could swear it was
nodding its head at her. Though she had had experience with numerous
kinds of animals before, she had never handled pigs in her pet shop.

Having always felt a kind of unspoken aversion to the species, she was
now doubly surprised by the fact that she was grinning, not even
thinking of Lloyd’s porker as your common everyday run-of-the-mill farm
swine. “Chester here is a genuine native breed. Comes from Pennsylvania.
A Chester White is what they’re actually called. I got him when he was
just a wee little piglet. And Chester and me have been friends ever
since,” Lloyd explained.

“Friends?” asked Pam with a look of surprise.

“Sure thing. He’s a pet, you might say. Except when he goes off for a
good wallow, I give him run of the house. Pigs aren’t particularly easy
to tame, but Chester here took to house life the way your Scottie must
do when he’s home in your apartment. And not meaning to brag, pigs are a
helluva lot smarter than man’s trusted companion, the good old mutt.”

“And … and he lives here, in the house?” Pam asked with surprise.

“Yep,” grinned Lloyd. He reached out and rubbed Chester between his
ears. The pig lifted its snout and looked up into the farmer’s amiable
face. “He’s house-broken, too, needless to say.”

“And most amazingly trained,” added Justin, knowing what this was all
leading up to. Lloyd had demonstrated Chester’s unique anatomical
distinctions the last time he had spent some time at the farm. But
despite their efforts in that direction, they hadn’t been able to get a
girl to consummate their sexual desires, using Chester as the male half
of the bestial combination.

Now, Justin was certain that Lloyd’s presence and his own uniquely
proportioned genitals, would serve to induce Pam to shed her clothes and
the last of her inhibitions. “Did you recall what I asked you to do for
me when we spoke in your apartment?” he asked her then.

She looked up at him and then over to Chester, the pig placidly allowing
its master to rub his fingers over its snout and ears. Finally, knowing
what Justin was talking about; she nodded her head with vague
discomfort. “I–I remember.”

“Then you remember what you promised me you’d do,” he went on.

“I … I said it you found me a pig, I’d let it fuck me,” she whispered,
dry-mouthed, her eyes darting nervously over to the white stocky figure
of Chester. “But … but I’ll be crushed, Justin.”

“No problem about that. I’ve got it all arranged,” Lloyd said
matter-of-factly. “Chester here isn’t much older than a yearling. And
he’s pretty small for the breed. Adult boars can get up to something
like eight or nine hundred pounds. Last time I took the trouble to find
out, Chester weighed in at about three hundred. But I’ve got him
trained, little lady, so well-trained you won’t believe how nice and
gentle and easy going Chester here actually can be.”

She wasn’t so much worried about the pig’s temperament as she was about
the three hundred pounds of solid flesh and muscle pressing down against
her body. “I’m … I’m afraid,” she told them.

“Of course you are. But you’ll get over that quick, when Chester gets
started,” Justin said, wildly aroused now by the very thought of what
was soon to take place. He pulled his chair away from the table and got
impatiently to his feet.

Pam took one look at Justin and knew how aroused her lover had become;
just by the way they were all alluding to what was going to be taking
place in the next few minutes. She didn’t feel anything even remotely
resembling disgust or loathing at the notion of being maneuvered into
position so that she might get fucked by a pig, by this pig in
particular.

No, it wasn’t that that disturbed her half as much as the fear that the
animal would crush her with its weight and the force of its bestial
sexual excitement. When Lloyd too got to his feet and her eyes alighted
on his own trapped and gigantic tool, the sight of that finally
persuaded her to put herself in their hands, to trust them explicitly.

“All set?” Nichols asked.

She nodded her head and joined them, draining her coffee cup dry before
getting warily to her feet. “The pulley setup still in working order?”
Justin asked his friend.

“Perfect working order, as a matter of fact. I just checked it out this
morning, when I got up. Everything’s gonna work out fine, just real nice
and fine,” Lloyd said with another one of his characteristically leering
wolfish grins.

Then, turning to the door, he led Pam and Justin and the shuffling
figure of Chester, out of the kitchen, through the living room and up
the flight of narrow stairs that led to the bedroom on the second floor
of the house.

The floorboards creaked under the pig’s weight, but Chester–much to Pam
Harper’s considerable surprise–succeeded in rather easily albeit
gracelessly mounting the stairs, one step after another. And when they
reached Lloyd’s bedroom at the far end of the second floor hall, Pam
took one look inside and knew that nobody had been bullshitting her,
that now, within the next few minutes, she was going to be fucked by a
pig, balled by a Chester White boar whose own anatomical distinctions
she still knew absolutely nothing about.

Chapter 8

The large paneled room was airy and bright; the strong unfiltered
afternoon sun streaming in through the opened bedroom windows. Pam stood
in the middle of the room, all eyes to what was being prepared, and
prepared for her and her alone.

But if she was curious about how they were already beginning to
manipulate and maneuver Chester into the complicated set of harnesses
and pulleys which were bolted to the bedroom ceiling, she was more
intrigued with the stanchion that was Lloyd Nichols’ bloated cock,
visible behind the tightly stretched denim cloth of his overalls.

It was now even larger than she had seen when he’d pulled his
stupendously oversized cock from out of the mare’s pussy. She wondered
too if it had been the result of a disease, or if he had been born with
that kind of genetic makeup to produce such an amazingly horse-like
weapon. If anything, the man’s penis seemed to have been grafted on from
a stallion and she shuddered at the sight, picturing what it might feel
like if she rode that immense arm of flesh, blood and gristle down to
the finish line, to the searing and exhausting point of climax.

It would happen, she knew, but not until she had begun to demonstrate
her willingness to give in to their own brand of bestial passion,
allowing Justin and his friend to set up the pulley system and
arrangement of ropes and leather harnesses so that Chester could fuck
her without crushing her under his heavy solid bulk.

A few minutes later all seemed to be in order, good working order, at
that. The leather straps had been cinched around the pig’s middle and
all during the proceedings, Chester had stood unmoving, allowing Lloyd
and Justin to prepare him for the next stage in their bestially oriented
plans.

“Raise him up now. He won’t be hassled, I’ve done it before, to get him
used to it,” Lloyd said.

Justin began to pull on one end of the ropes and as Pam watched, sitting
down on the edge of Nichols’ four-poster bed, she was able to see how
the pig was being hoisted up, his front lifted up off of the floor so
that he seemed to be walking on his hindquarters like an ambulating
human being.

But before she could say anything to them, her eyes alighted on that
which was the entire point of these complicated and strange proceedings.
Projecting up along the pig’s nearly smooth and hairless underside was a
short stubby length of skin she knew contained the animal’s still unseen
penis.

It was neither arousing nor disgusting and with the calm objective look
of a student of anatomy, she stared at the grayish-pink sheath that
obscured–at least temporarily and for the time being–Chester’s pecker.

The straps and ropes tight and secure, Chester’s doleful staring eyes
moved calmly about the room as he allowed himself to be lifted up until
his front parts dangled in the air. He seemed to Pam to be looking in
her direction as if he knew what this complicated set-up was really all
about.

Then, satisfied that all was ready and that no physical harm could come
to Pam now that the swine was suitably harnessed, the two men turned
their eyes to her and waited for Pam to get shakily and uncertainly to
her feet.

“We’re all ready. Take off your clothes,” Justin announced, even as he
began to unbutton his work shirt.

Pam blushed, but did as she was told, aware of the way the two of them
were staring at her, ogling her body as she unbuttoned her blouse and
pulled her arms out of the short sleeves. Her unhaltered jugs swung
liltingly before their wide and delighted eyes. Each nipple began to
swell as a result of their unwavering and lascivious stares.

They grew taut and turgid and she unzipped her skirt and pushed it down
off of her waist and hips, even as Justin threw his shirt onto the floor
and rapidly unbuckled his belt. Lloyd still remained motionless; all
eyes as her skirt came down to reveal the soaking wet front of her
skimpy bikini briefs.

He took one look at the easily seen outline of her lush little pussy and
smacked his lips, no longer hesitating to unzip his fly. Even before Pam
removed her panties, having first stepped out of her skirt, she stopped
undressing and returned Lloyd Nichols’ unflinching and intense stare.

By now, the entire inside of one leg of his jeans was tented out, nearly
down to his knee.

And then, as his pants came down, she opened her mouth and teetered as
if she was once again going to faint, going to swoon with a mixture of
awe, disbelief and wild sexual excitement.

“My God, my God,” she said aloud as he dropped his jeans to his ankles
and began to kick them off of his feet. For even then it was growing at
a most alarming and unbelievable rate, blood being pumped and then
trapped inside. It was as if he was involuntarily attempting to hoist it
upright like an unsheathed sword and the color drained from her cheeks
as she took in the unbelievable and inhuman dimensions of the man’s
gigantic penis.

The huge arm of man-flesh began to jerk fitfully, slowly but surely
thickening and lengthening and arching out from its hairy root. His
equally prodigiously sized balls swung between his muscular thighs,
filled with another load of abundant hot come. Justin stepped out of his
own jeans and flung them onto the bed.

He didn’t have to touch himself, his cock already arching up towards his
hairy stomach. It was fully erect and he was just as turned on, both by
Pam’s sexual presence as well as by what was soon going to take place.
And he knew as well that she could not tear her eyes off of Lloyd’s
penis.

Jealousy was the last thing he felt, for he wasn’t going to be happy
until he had seen his friend attempt to sheath his lusty dick right
between the tight little lips of Pam Harper’s pussy. If it would
fit–and certainly not its entire overlarge length–was something he
still couldn’t tell. But he knew that she would give it her all and try
to make it work.

But now, Chester was her partner, not Lloyd Nichols.

So he moved towards her as she finally pulled her panties down, letting
the two men take in the tight juicy contours of her girlish split. The
sexual stimulation that seemed to cling to her like mist now caused her
cunt lips to actually flutter and dilate. They grew puffy and thick
rivulets of sap began to run down the sloping walls of her itching
vagina.

She shuddered, all eyes to Justin and Lloyd, so turned on now that she
was ready and willing to try just about anything, including a stallion.
But it was a pig, at least for now and she moved towards Chester as he
kept watching her, remaining placid within the confining straps and
harnesses.

“Get down on your knees and suck him off,” Justin whispered.

“He was soaped down and hosed this morning,” added Lloyd, degradation
not being part of his sexual repertoire.

But Pam hadn’t even considered the fact that the animal might be
physically dirty. She was shuddering and she moved more assuredly to
Chester. She got down onto her knees and bent forward; curious now as
she ran her trembling fingers up and down the short stubby length that
concealed the boar’s penis.

Chester squealed softly, but made no attempt to either mount her or move
with any kind of physical violence. And so as he remained just about
motionless while she rubbed the tips of her fingers along the fleshy
sheath, able to feel something thick and hard moving behind the rubbery
length that seemed to resemble an overlong male foreskin.

“Harder, rub your fingers back and forth more quickly,” she heard Lloyd
whisper.

She turned her head over her shoulder to see him leaning over her, his
cock now arching out at nearly a ninety-degree angle from his belly. He
kept his fingers tightly pressed around the extreme base of his huge
tool so that when she glanced back, she had but to move her head forward
a few inches to be able to rub her lips across the livid mauve peach
that was the head of his dong.

“Chester first,” he told her then, excited by her growing desire, by the
way she didn’t need him to tell her to lick his pecker.

Barely able to tear her eyes away from Lloyd’s massive dick, Pam
nevertheless finally looked back down at Chester’s meat. And, sure
enough, her manual manipulations were beginning to have the desired
effect.

Something wet and glistening, the color of her pink tongue, could be
seen gradually emerging from the opened end of the boar’s penile sheath.
Her fingers clutched more securely and she rubbed them back and forth
again, trying to get Chester’s dick fully hard and erect, ready for
penetration.

But when the first two inches slid out into the open, her eyes opened
wide and she shook her head with amazement. “Something else, isn’t it?”
grinned Lloyd, watching the way she was nearly stunned by the sight of
Chester’s cock.

Pam just kept staring. If was the shape of the porker’s dick that amazed
her, for the animal’s penis was built along the lines of a corkscrew, a
twisted shaft like the head of a bit or a drill. And, what was more, it
was getting larger and larger.

With a single cry of acceptance, she flung her face down and pressed her
parted lips right around the first two raw and exposed inches of
pig-meat. Chester squealed more loudly, his trotters banging against the
wooden floorboards as Pam sucked on his cock.

The strong musty animal smell of his genitals made her tremble and the
shape of Chester’s dick made her imagine the kind of unique bestial
pleasures coupling with the pig would soon be affording her. She took in
even more, urging his cock to blossom into a hard and fully erect state.

And when, after having induced just about five or so inches to glide
between her lips and into her mouth, she felt Chester suddenly pumping
forward, Pam knew it was time to finish what she had started. She licked
quickly until she was sure that Chester’s corkscrew-shaped penis was
fully hard and erect.

Then, she slid her lips over the entire length of his twisted and
uniquely proportioned member, letting it slip out of her mouth. Chester
continued to squeal and thrust forward into the air, aiming his pig-cock
with blind animal excitement.

And his bestial excitement was communicating itself to Pam, Lloyd and
Justin. Kneeling there in front of the white hog, she looked back at the
two men, still shaken by the sight of Nichols’ penis. She was certain it
was a foot long, twelve, if not more, inches of hard throbbing
man-flesh.

And now, arching up along the pig’s belly, was Chester’s amazing twisted
corkscrew of a cock, glistening wet and ready to be used to impale her
to the quick. Her cunt walls trembled against each other at the thought
and when they told her to turn around and get down on her hands and
knees, she didn’t hesitate to assume this position, pig-fucking being
like dog-fucking, both more readily consummated through the rear.

The drooping outer lips of her puffy cooze dilated even more and she
didn’t think twice about reaching between her legs with one hand. She
pulled her vaginal flaps wide apart, opening her split so that the pig
would have no difficulty locating her cunt furrow and the entrance into
her hot and itching vaginal canal.

Meanwhile, Justin and Lloyd were maneuvering her body, pushing her back
towards Chester. The boar kept squealing and jerking fitfully until, a
moment later, Pam looked down between her legs and let go of her cunt,
able to see and feel the way she had finally made contact with Chester’s
twisted corkscrewing cock.

“That’s it, shove it in, all of it,” she said breathlessly as he pumped
forward and his cock seemed to twist inside of her like a screw being
drilled into a soft giving wall. Her cunt muscles quivered and she
moaned, the speed of Chester’s penetration almost instantaneous.

Meanwhile, now that the pig was in action, Justin and Lloyd got down
onto their knees and looked between Pam’s legs, shaking with excitement.
“Unreal, just unreal,” Justin said with disbelief as he watched the way
Chester’s spiral-shaped dick was pumping in and out of Pam Harper’s
twat.

As for Pam, for the moment she was too into her pleasure, too excited by
what was happening. The bestial nature of the act was equally as
compelling as Chester’s unique spiralling performance. The boar squealed
loudly now, no doubt delighted to be afforded such a unique kind of
sexual pleasure.

He jerked his cock in and out; grazing against Pam’s pulpy hot clit and
inducing her to squeal like a sow. She jerked her buns back until they
were flat against Chester’s smooth belly while he continued to lash out,
bombarding her cunt with one volley after another of stimulating
penetrating strokes.

To watch this thickish spiral-shaped pigcock moving in and out of the
girl’s muff turned the two men on to an incredible degree. Justin kept
sliding his fingers up and down the length of his stiff and throbbing
boner, panting as Pam panted, groaning when she groaned.

That she had accepted this kind of treatment, that she was now loving it
even more than they were–since she was the active participant and at
least for the time being, they were still passive–only served to turn
him on all the more.

He groaned hotly at the sight and as for Pam, she was shuddering against
Chester’s underside, tightening her cunt muscles around his swift
stimulating boner. As a result of the unique shape of the pig’s
genitals, her cunt was being stimulated and frictioned against in a way
she had never experienced or enjoyed before. It was as if she was
twirling a French tickler in and out of her pussy, but a tickler that
was at once totally real, live flesh and blood moving breathlessly back
and forth between her clutching cunt flaps.

Chester’s porcine squeals echoed loudly in the air and it was then, even
as Lloyd judged his pig to be fast approaching his orgasm, that the
unbelievably well-hung young man moved around until he was able to kneel
right in front of Pam’s flushed and reddened face.

She braced herself, her hands flat on the floor and her body twisting
and bucking with wild delirious ecstasy. “Yes, harder, shit, I’ll come,
so fast, so fast,” she whimpered, the fact that she was being screwed by
a pig only serving to inflame her maddened sexual desires all the more.

It was raw animal sex, devoid of feeling or emotion, devoid of
intellectual recriminations or interpersonal communication. And, as a
result, she gave in to the way her body was responding, loving this even
more than she loved to feel Bix or Holmes pounding their bony dog cocks
in and out of her snatch.

No, this was far more exotic and wild, to be balled by a pig.

The thick cloying smell of coitus filled her nostrils, mingling now with
the equally heavy musky smell which permeated Lloyd Nichols’ dank and
hairy crotch. She caught sight of him getting into position before her
and she lifted her flushed sweaty face as if searching for an answer to
the look of wild-eyed sexuality imprinted upon his face.

“Yes, more, do it, do it!” she wailed, shaking then as she felt herself
finally coming. The friction the pig’s cock was producing got her off
and she reached out and grabbed the bony caps of Lloyd’s knees,
supporting herself while a series of violent sexual convulsions coursed
through her body.

“Yes, that’s it. Oh shit, do it, come, come, baby!” Justin Whitlock
screamed out, whipped into a frenzy that was nearly as potent as
Chester’s or Pam Harper’s wild sexual delight. The boar was getting
closer to his ejaculation, thumping in and out, humping up against Pam’s
back.

Lloyd reached out then until he was able to rub his fingers against the
opening of Pam’s muff, able to feel the way Chester’s dick slid in and
out at a fast and shuddering rate. Hot curds of cunt juice glistened
over her fleecy pubic nest and he kept on smiling, even as he lifted his
cock up like a crowbar, aiming the great mauve head right towards Pam’s
lips.

She raised her head and still coming, now found herself staring heatedly
at the young man’s titanic cunt-rammer. It was now fully engorged with
blood, fully hard and erect. The huge fist-like glans was smooth as
velvet and she pressed her lips against it, inhaling the hot smell of
his randy crotch.

It’s unreal, so unreal, she kept telling herself. She was still coming;
the raw blazing flickers of pleasure sluicing through her body. Behind
her, his trotters tattooing against the floor, Chester was squealing and
grunting and about to explode.

The moment was at hand, but even before the boar shot his load of semen,
Pam was licking circles around the head of Lloyd’s dong, wondering if
she would be able to accommodate it, either between her lips or more
pleasurably, between her legs.

“Just take your time. We have the entire weekend,” she heard Justin
pronounce, his lack of jealousy delighting her so that she let herself
go, releasing the last of her inhibitions. And it was then, as she kept
licking and tonguing the head of Nichol’s massive arm of meat, that
Chester finally let loose, releasing his load of porcine jism.

The violent series of bestial tremors which went through the animal’s
body signaled Chester’s climax. Pam clutched at the pig’s corkscrewing
penis, her vaginal muscles fibrillating as she felt the boar’s cock
shuddering as it moved like a screw, pumping in and out of her wet
tingly pussy.

“Shit, now, he’s coming, the fucker’s shooting!” Justin cried out
triumphantly, deranged with excitement, with the sight of Pam being
balled mercilessly yet lustfully by a white male pig.

He didn’t want to come though, and dropped his hand off of his cock, his
eyes narrowing as he stared intently. And then the first thick gooey
splashes of semen poured down Pam’s shuddering hole. She could actually
feel the swift ejaculations, one short burst of jism after another,
bullets of pig-come pouring into her muff.

In front of her, all eyes to this uniquely bestial performance, Lloyd
Nichols was having a hard time controlling his own sense of wild sexual
delight. Chester kept squealing and grunting until there was no more
come left in his testicles.

Quickly, more impatient than ever, Lloyd pulled Pam away from the pig,
letting Justin handle the responsibility of unharnessing the hot tired
beast. This Justin did, sending Chester trotting out of the bedroom. He
would have enjoyed seeing Pam take the pig’s load in her mouth,
picturing what it would be like to see her swallowing a hot load of
pig-come. But that, he knew then, would happen before they left the
farm. So now, he turned back to watch Lloyd as his friend thrust almost
viciously forward, trying to ram his dick right between Pam’s lips.

She stretched her lips and jaws wide, opening her mouth to the ultimate
breaking point so that she would be able to push her face down over the
head of Lloyd’s huge bristling boner. The heat of his meat consumed her
and her tongue slapped hotly against his leaking bulbous glans.

“That’s a good girl,” Lloyd moaned, looking down to see how pale-yellow
pig-come was oozing out like syrup from between the raw puffy lips of
Pam’s vagina. But even more than the pleasure of a blowjob, he wanted to
experience firsthand the delicious tight grip of her girlish split.

And now, the fact that her cunt was still brimming over with Chester’s
abundant load of cream, only served to inflame his bestial passions all
the more. He had always relished fucking seminalized cunts. But now, the
very notion of pounding his titanic cunt-rammer through a sea of
pig-come, fresh hot gooey porcine semen at that, aroused his passions to
the boiling point.

Impatiently he wrenched his glans out of Pam’s busily sucking mouth. She
whimpered, her jaws aching and her tongue feeling swollen and exhausted
as a result of the way she had been using it to tickle and caress the
entire surface of the man’s blood-engorged cock head.

“I want you now,” he told her with a look of wild excitement,
anticipating the pleasure balling her would afford him.

“This I have to see,” Justin told them, knowing what his friend had in
mind. It appealed to his voyeuristic side and when Lloyd lifted Pam
effortlessly, cradling her exhausted sweaty body in his arms, Justin
Whitlock moved towards the bed, not about to miss the chance to see his
friend in action.

Having seen Pam fucked by a dog and now a pig, he was doubly excited
about the prospect of seeing her impaled by a man who was as
well-hung–without any exaggeration whatsoever–as a stallion. Now, more
than twelve enormously thick bloated inches of meat strained forward
between his legs, an infant’s jerking arm, the fist of which drooled hot
sticky rivulets of pearly pre-seminal fluid.

More gooey fluid seeped out around her fleecy pubic bush and Lloyd
lowered her gently down onto the bed. Working with the swiftness that
betrayed his violent excitement, he stuffed the two down and feather
pillows up under her ass, elevating her cunt to a more accessible angle.

The arm of his meaty weapon bobbed back and forth and Pam could not tear
her eyes away from it. And when she glanced over at Justin, now standing
by the side of the bed, she knew that he was just as turned on and
anxious to see Lloyd Nichols performing, just as he had done earlier,
back in the barn with Babe, the Shetland pony mare.

She wondered too if it would really hurt her, but when he climbed up
onto the bed and attached what seemed to be stirrups or folded leather
straps to the two posts at the foot of the bed, she knew they were meant
for her, designed to get her thighs spread as far apart as was
physically possible.

Silently, Pam submitted to his plans, allowing him to slip first one
raised foot and then the other into the stirrup-like ankle supports. She
was now resting on the top of her back, her legs spread achingly wide,
held steady by the twin leather stirrups.

When this had been accomplished, he got off the bed and moved just as
quickly to his chest of drawers. From the top drawer he pulled out a
shriveled tube of ointment. The condition of the shrunken tube told Pam
that it had been used on numerous occasions before. And before she could
even ask him what it was, he was back on the bed, kneeling impatiently
between her shuddering and spread-eagled flanks.

“It’s a kind of local anesthetic. It’ll numb your muscles so that by the
time your cunt has gotten used to the size of my hose, you won’t have
felt much pain at all. If I didn’t use it, you wouldn’t be able to
handle this big fucking beauty. No one can, ‘cept Babe, of course.”

And saying this, his infectious grin putting her more at ease and off
her guard, the inhumanly hung young man uncapped the metal tube of
ointment and squeezed a good healthy gob of the anesthetic lotion into
the palm of his hand.

He covered his fingers with more of the white translucent jelly, tossed
the shriveled tube to Justin Whitlock, and then leaned forward. Pam held
her breath as the warm yet chilling ointment was rubbed over her twin
shuddering cunt lips. Then, Lloyd proceeded to insert two of his
fingers, spreading her vaginal canal wide, rubbing the stuff all along
the length of her cunt walls and around the swampy come-filled basin
that was her vulva.

He grazed against her swollen pulpy clit and she shivered, her legs
twitching against the ankle stirrups. Dreamy-eyed, she moaned softly as
she felt the way Lloyd was pistoning his greasy fingers deeper and
deeper into her cunt, trying to cover every inch of her pussy with the
pain-killing ointment.

He could feel her vaginal muscles first shuddering and then gradually
going numb and unmoving. Hot curds of Chester’s come adhered to the
sloping narrow walls of her pussy and even Lloyd, as determined as he
was, was rather uncertain as to the ultimate outcome of his next sexual
act.

“She’ll handle it. I know her better than you do,” Justin said,
seemingly reading the look of doubt which had flashed across his
friend’s set and concentrating face.

Pam nodded her own head and opened her eyes wide, taking in for the
umpteenth time the entire length and breadth of the young man’s
super-sized penis. His equally oversized balls hung down like a wrinkled
hairy sac, swaying back and forth against the insides of her thighs.

As muscular and handsome as Justin, he was more of a man than she had
ever imagined, a man like a horse. That was the image–Lloyd the
stallion, just as she had always seen Justin as a bear–which now
consumed her thoughts. He eased his fingers out into the open, satisfied
that he had used the anesthetic ointment as best he could.

He wiped his hands dry on the sheets and then took hold of his cock,
wiggling his body up against her. Her harnessed hoisted thighs shuddered
once again and she held her breath, all eyes–as was Justin–to what
Lloyd Nichols was about to perform.

“Just relax and I’ll go slow, real slow, promise,” he whispered hotly,
eager to begin what he had thought about ever since Justin had called
him on the phone to make the necessary arrangements for the weekend.

And now it was time to show her what the next thirty-six hours were
going to be all about. Chester had been a good start. There were still
the ewes now grazing out behind the barn, as well as the two dogs and
Babe, the animals all to be used for their own bestial gratification.

And if Pam could handle his stupendous weapon, both Lloyd and Justin
knew that she could handle just about anything else. Pam held her breath
then as Lloyd thrust forward, aligning the leaking glans with the gaping
dilated opening of her pussy.

Wanting his cock as much as he wanted to give it to her, Pam thrust her
crotch forward. She used her hands to splay her cunt lobes back, pulling
them as wide apart as she possibly could. The elastic and youthful
labial flesh spread open like a pair of fluttering butterfly wings,
revealing the slick wet blood-rich inner surface of her cunt lips.

“That’s a girl,” Lloyd whispered, all eyes as he gently pushed down so
that his glans made contact with the raw wet ball of her pulpy clit.

It was not yet fully anesthetized and the instant she felt his meat
grazing and frictioning against her button of erectile tissue, she began
to shudder and pant, wanting to have him inside of her with a kind of
ruthless determination and desperation that even Justin found hard to
believe possible.

His plans were shaping up into a whole and he could see, even now from
the look in her eyes, that she was evolving into the kind of woman he
had imagined her to be, a woman who was willing to accept and try all
and everything, just so long as sexual pleasure was the ultimate result.

That Lloyd’s cock would give her pleasure she was yet to know was
something else that Pam Harper didn’t doubt and she was determined to
handle his tool, even if she felt considerable pain as a result. But for
the time being, she felt no pain at all, only a mounting electric
pleasure as he took his time and continued to rub his leaking cock head
back and forth against her clitoris.

Almost imperceptibly, knowing exactly what he was doing and how to deal
with the tight and narrow dimensions of Pam’s girlish twat, Lloyd gently
and slowly pushed down. He began to exert more and more pressure, trying
to stuff his glans right into her vulva.

Her gasp signaled her growing awareness and they were all eyes to what
was taking place between her legs. Justin held his breath, watching the
way Pam’s cunt was beginning to look grotesquely distended as if he
himself was between her legs, using his fist instead of his cock.

For if anything, the fist of Lloyd’s glans was pounding up against her
come-filled twat and she groaned and tried to stretch her legs wider
apart to accommodate it. He thrust down with more energy and a wild
scream of pain and pleasure gurgled forth from between her parched and
puffy lips.

“No … stop, one sec … stop,” she gasped as she felt the incredible
pressure, the way her vulva was stretched tight as a drum, filled to the
breaking point by the presence of his leaking cock head. “Yes, now, but
slow, slow,” she went on, cautioning him to take his time as she tried
to get accustomed to the searing pressure of his cumbersome weapon.

Her cunt walls were growing numb and relaxed as he eased himself
forward, able to feel the lubricant of pig-come and lotion rubbing over
his own meaty dart. He knew from past experience that the chilling
anesthetic effect didn’t interfere with the ability to maintain an
erection.

It tapered off within ten minutes of application and he judged that he
had a good seven minutes of time left to house as much of his penis as
he could. So he stroked ever so gently and carefully, his hands seeking
out her hot button-like nipples. He winked at her and tweaked her
love-buds, but she ignored his reddened eager face, unable to stop
looking down with disbelief at the sight of her shuddering flanks.

It was moving into her, an arm, a human arm that tunneled deeper and
deeper. Her ravished cunt walls were pulled back to the limits of their
elasticity and her resilient and youthful cunt flesh still had
difficulty stretching as wide as the width of his cock demanded.

“That’s it, relax, keep relaxing,” Justin coaxed her when more than four
inches of hard burning manflesh had been drilled slowly into her
overstuffed twat.

But relaxation was the last thing she could feel.

Her body felt on fire and she strained and bit down on her lower lip,
feeling a flicker of agony as he plowed forward, digging a hot
mercilessly wide canal down into her pussy. But she wanted it, as much
as Lloyd did and she didn’t stop him after that, trusting him to take
his time.

Even the local anesthetic he had applied along her cunt walls didn’t
completely blot out the searing pain of having her cunt fisted into by a
stallion-sized penis. The bloated active weapon hammered deeper and now,
she could see that half the length of Lloyd’s boner was already buried
and hidden from sight, right between her legs.

“Unreal, it’s just not to be believed,” muttered Justin with amazement.
He was almost afraid to blink lest he miss anything and as he continued
to watch, not even bothering to fondle his own stiff jutting horn of
cock meat, his friend groaned savagely and pushed his pole of manflesh
even deeper into place.

Pam met his next stroke, raising herself up. A droplet of blood appeared
along the surface of her bottom lip. She had bitten down so hard, rather
than scream out in pain and pleasure, that her lip had cracked. The
sight of the blood seemed to trigger a moment of wild excess and Lloyd
swung his hard muscled body down against her, pounding even deeper
inside.

She choked as if he was stuffing his cock down her throat, not into her
pussy. And when she looked down between her legs, she could see that he
had already given her nearly the entire length of his boner. Just then
his glans burned against her cervix and she whimpered, signaling him to
stop.

Less than two inches of thick bloated meat were now visible, the rest of
his penis hidden inside of her pussy. She kept gasping as he bent his
head down and licked her jugs, sucking on one hard taut nipple and then
the other.

“Oh shit, shit so much. I can taste it, slow, go slow,” she murmured as
he gently pulled back, only to slide forward again with a display of hot
stroking energy.

The extreme tightness of her pussy rubbed his meat raw and he was
burning up, sweating and moaning as he slowly began to quicken the
rhythmic pulsing tempo of his searing cock-strokes. And just as
gradually as he quickened his rate of insertion, the anesthetic began to
wear off.

She could feel how he was pounding into her, her cunt walls stretched so
taut and wide that she thought he could easily rip right through her
vaginal canal. But Lloyd was exercising more control than even Pam was
able to realize. He thrust straight down so that the head of his dick
tipped her cervix again and again, rather than pushing against one wall
of her quim and then the other.

His come-filled balls smacked against the upraised shuddering cheeks of
her butt and she was moaning more loudly now, able to feel the way her
body was reacting, the way her clit was being ripped left and right as
he moved his hammering sword in and out of her muff.

“Yes, more, harder, good, I want it, I need it,” she whimpered, trying
to slide her legs over his burly wide-set shoulders so that he might be
able to push down even deeper than at present.

He maneuvered her legs into place, the backs of her knees hooked over
his shoulders. And then he sank down another inch, crying out
victoriously. “Baby, watch it, watch the stallion baby! Look how it’s
moving. And you’re filled with pig-come, pig-come and a horse-cock,
baby. Yeah, you need it. You need this big fucking hot beauty. And I’m
gonna flood you with come. I’m gonna make sure you float away on a
puddle of cream, little lady, good hot horse-come!”

Wild-eyed, panting as loudly as she was, Lloyd Nichols began to move
even more quickly, certain now that most of her pain and discomfort had
vanished. And as Pam moved in time to his volley of gut-wrenching
strokes, Justin Whitlock decided that it was high time he got into the
picture and the action.

Accordingly, even as he heard Holmes and Bix barking downstairs, he
swung himself up over the bed and clambered around until he was able to
squat right over Pam Harper’s flushed and sweaty face. “You want to take
a nice long suck on it, sugar?” he said, holding his cock down as she
glanced back at him.

She didn’t have to reply, wanting to do anything he asked. For by this
time, her first climax was about to descend upon her like a ton of
bricks. The swifter Lloyd moved, the more turned on and accustomed to
his massive cock she became. The last burning flickers of pain were
fading, replaced by an intensely gratifying glow of imminent release and
orgasmic ecstasy.

Grunting and slobbering over her tits, Lloyd kept pistoning in and out,
one raw wicked cock-stroke after another. And as he felt her cunt
muscles shuddering tautly around his powerfully thrusting organ, he
could see how she was also beginning to take in one hard hot inch of
Justin’s cock after another.

“That’s it, more, nice and easy,” he panted, easing his meat deeper and
deeper into her mouth and down her throat, bending her tonsils back in
his impatience to store the entire length of his hard-on into place.

Pam gurgled and slobbered over his tool, even as she suddenly shuddered
and began to come. And as the fiery pleasure consumed her, as she sucked
Justin off and felt Lloyd Nichols bombarding her pussy with his arm of
throbbing meat, Bix and Holmes suddenly burst into the room, whipped up
by the hot searing aroma of sexual congress.

They jumped up onto the bed, licking at random, their tongues striking
out until, even as Pam continued on creaming, Holmes was right behind
Lloyd Nichols, licking between his heaving buns and down to his huge
wrinkled scrotal sac. Bix, on the other hand, had squeezed around until
he was beginning to rim out Justin Whitlock’s hairy puckered asshole.

Pam heard what was happening and she let loose, slamming her eyes shut
and flowing with her inhuman pleasure. Justin had asked for commitment
and lack of inhibition. And now, less than an hour after they had
arrived at the farm, she knew that she had neither disappointed him nor
disappointed herself. If anything, this weekend of complete and total
bestial and hedonistic abandon was going to be their honeymoon, no doubt
about that.

The End

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