'Lad & Me In The Barn '


Anal, Oral-Sex
Funny how things work out. You grow up reading Holy Scripture and fairy tales, watching Walter Elias Disney motion picture, and you 're pretty sure you 're going to have a summer Romance language, to fall down in blissful mutual love with someone iniquity and handsome and subsist happily ever after. nonentity tells you it could turn out to be a big, brainy border collie with a eldritch back-door predilection. And yet here I am, sitting on a towel with a slow stream of collie cream leaking out my ass, while I type out my idea. I 'm not at all dissatisfied with things, it just is n't what you expect, exactly, when you 're growing up. You know ?

My public figure 's irrelevant, and you 'll figure I 'm just making it up, but I 'll put it in anyway. I 'm Amy. I guess I 'm writing to mould things out, or get them off my chest, to a certain extent, and it feels more material if I put my public figure on it. My fella is the unimaginatively-named Lad. It 's a flexible name. Sometimes he 's Laddie, or sonny Boy, Laddie Bucko, Lad-old-Pup, or any act of former sport. He responds to all of them. He 's not a large dog by any means, but he 's big for his strain. He 's mostly mordant, a deep calendered Joseph Black, with a White person blaze on his chest, a little more white on his os frontale and behind his ears, and a couple of spotty white windsock. We keep that fur dainty and fairly and satiny despite his uncanny ability to find mud, Aaron Burr, and various farmyard byproducts. Right now, he 's busily patroling the grounds. When he decides he has a job to do, he devotes himself to it very single-mindedly.

I picked Lad out as a pup, and as he grew up, we spent hours together -- many hours working on obedience and deception, and many hours just in each early 's fellowship, walking around together as I did chores, brushing and petting him, or just sitting quietly. When you spend that much time together, working together, playing together, and touching each other, you just bond. He slid right into the role of `` honorable friend '' and I never really thought about the fact that petting and hugging him, or kissing his frontal bone and muzzle, were things that I would n't do with a normal friend, not if we meant to stay just acquaintance. They were convention things to do with a dog, all a contribution of the process of soldering and growing secretive together. I would n't stimulate ever described the process as `` falling in lovemaking '', but by the sentence a year had gone by, I certainly knew that I loved him, and I felt loved. He filled a big space in my warmheartedness. I missed him and thought of him during the day when I was at school, and looked forward to seeing him when I got home.

The timing worked out so that he was growing into his adulthood just around the same meter I was. I started seeing twinkling of pink under his belly every once in a piece, and I felt some growing oddity about that part of him. I do n't roll in the hay how to account for the fact that one day, when I was petting him, oddment boiled over and I reached down under his belly and stroked him along his sheath. First, it was a dyad of light tactual sensation, just `` innocently '' brushing against it while I scratched his abdomen fur, but then I took it fully in my bridge player, and stroked. I felt him tumefy almost immediately, pulled my hand back, then reached in again and rubbed some more. He felt good and quick in my hand. His hindquarter started twitching, and the big clotheshorse at the foot felt really matter to. Even though I knew a lot about wiener, I had n't known to require that and was n't entirely sure what it was. I wrapped my bridge player around and felt the great deal of it. I pushed the sheath back a bit and saw a few column inch of pink, saw a little squirt of liquidity, and then I got queasy about what we were doing and took my hand away. I casually scratched his neck opening and ears for a minute or two more and then walked away, trying not to look suspicious ( although, if anyone saw me, I probably looked exactly like mortal trying very hard not to look mistrustful ).

As I lay in bed that even, though, the feeling replayed in my head, and I lay in the dark with my eyes closed, but my encephalon still agitated. I did n't get to sleep easily, and I woke up ahead of time with the view still racing around. And so, the next day at around the Saame time, I called him over to take the air with me. We walked around behind a building where we were n't visible from the house, and I did n't throw much pretext about why we were there. I reached down and started stroking right away, and I felt him swell in response immediately. That big jut started to fulfill my script up, and he started thrusting emphatically. I thought he must be feeling pretty good, and I liked giving him that feeling, so I kept stroking. The case slipped back, and I got my first gear view of his intact hammer, knot and all. It looked strange to me, but it was a office of Lad, so it seemed sort of OK to search and to have-to doe with. He was jetting out spurts of liquid now. Some of it splashed his thorax fur, and some of it went on the basis. I held on to him, stroked him gently, and watched him squirt for a long time. I knew I was n't doing anything all that unlike than what the AI tech would do when he takes tending of a bull or stallion, but deep down I also knew I was feeling more than that. I was feeling sour on.

This quickly became a daily routine for us. My afternoon task gave me a good reason to be in the barn for a spell every day, and so every day Lad would get a hand job. I got used to how he liked to be touched, and was rewarded with more enthusiastic thrusting and humping. He got used to the turn and would zip over to our usual spot as soon as we went in the barn, and facial expression at me expectantly, calling me over. intellection of dog cock started coming to me all through the sleep of the day, most of all before bed sentence, waking up in the morn, and riding the shoal bus home, when I knew I 'd be doing `` task '' soon. It hit almost all my senses. I could imagine the pink distance of it sliding out bright against his belly fur, the hot touch, the liquid squirting against my hand, Lad 's heavy ventilation in the quiet of the b, and his strong pooch smelling overpowering the background knowledge flavor of hay and twine and debris. Every fourth dimension it came to bear in mind I 'd get wrapped up in the fantasy and every metre, to a greater extent and more turned on. Frustratingly so.

Usually I just bent down and reached under, and sometimes I 'd kind of Curl my spare arm around his chest, too, and he 'd grab that and hump against it. I liked that touch sensation ; it was more charge when he seemed to really get into it. But one afternoon, probably an early October day, I decided to lie down and slide underneath him. With my head up under his chest, and his hind legs straddling my waist, I was looking straight up at dog dick, and when I jerked him, the offset jets splashed out onto my chest ( getting my shirt wet ) and onto my neck. I was holding him near the understructure, he was starting to thrust a trivial bit, and when I raised my chief up just a little, he was aimed right at my facial expression. What a view ! It 's so Weird, I do n't recognise why I 'm wired like this, but I loved how it looked, I loved the feeling of the atomiser against my skin, and I wanted more. I raised up a minuscule higher, scooted forward, and held the tip right wing in straw man of my rima oris. spurt of dog cum -- precum, I guess -- were splashing off my face and dripping off now, and as he thrust and jerked around, the clobber was flying everywhere. I was unquiet but I was also absolutely determined that I wanted to swallow him. My lips parted, I guided him into my mouth, and there we were. I could n't guess anymore that this was anything but sex. I was n't just jerking him off ; my face was getting dog-fucked. He felt the warmth around him, and my handwriting still around the alkali, and he humped like mad, not too mysterious, thankfully ( I could control that with my hand ), but I had all I could handle just to retain my spot and keep from getting jabbed the wrong way as he fucked my face. One part of my nous thought it tasted Wyrd, but a deeper component of me wanted more, and More, and more. He felt so powerful, hammering away at me. I 'm not for sure how long it lasted. Probably not long. Time went kind of fuzzy for me. He slowed down and stood still, but kept filling my mouth for a recollective time after, and I gulped and gulped.

Eventually I slid out from under, looking like a tidy sum, and I could n't endure it ; I unbuttoned my jeans and started rubbing myself. Even though I 'd just been underneath my dog enthusiastically sucking him off, I was somehow even more nervous all of a sudden that someone would come out and stumble on me with my pants down. But I needed some backup man. Lad, who had been curled around licking himself, came over and stuck his nose in where my finger were and started licking me too. It was a swamp down there, and he got his tongue rightfulness in. I lifted up my hip and pushed against him, still rubbing myself while he stood over me. He gave me a few long, fast punch, then lay down and wedged his head between my legs and seriously went to shape. Remember I said he really devotes himself to a job ? I spread myself for him and squirmed around and he licked every bit of me. It was the first time I 'd ever felt anything like that at all, and before longsighted I was seeing stars. I was holding in the noises because I did n't want anyone to get a line anything mistrustful, but when he tongued over my mother fucker a mates of times, I yelped ( I was surprised, and could n't help it ). He would n't let up, either. Finally I had all I could stand, and I rolled away onto my side. He walked around to look at me, like he was checking that the job was done ok. Yeah, wow, thanks, boy. I scratched him a bit ( which he likes, especially the chest fur ) and gave him a big hug ( which he does n't like so much, but tolerates ) and then just buried my face in his breast fur for a while and breathed in dog while I cooled down. Then : jeans zipped up, back to the star sign, straight to the bedroom, avoid eye inter-group communication with anyone else until dinner time. Also, obviate eye contact and mumble reply to any questions during dinner as well.

The next sunup was a Saturday. I went out for a manner of walking after breakfast and just a few minutes after I stepped outside, Lad came up zooming up to me, interrupting whatever he 'd been up to earlier. I ruffled his head and we walked for a patch quietly, and then he started pestering me -- nudging me, circling around me, backing away and giving me a look, coming back in to nudge me again. He backed up and gave me a barque and all of a sudden I was pretty sure it meant `` take after me '' so I stepped in his management and sure enough he turned and started leading, checking back over his shoulder to prepare sure I was coming along. When I realized he was leading us to the barn, I knew what was up. I said, `` Hell yeah, laddie, let 's go, '' and we were both off at a trot. We dashed in the barn, I went over to a good deal of timber where I could sit comfortably a span of human foot off the ground, and I hiked my dungaree down. I was still nervous about getting caught in the buff with the dog, but I knew mom was in town for errands that would have a pair of hours, and dad was working on fencing, which would go along him busybodied 'til lunchtime. I slid my coxa forward and Lad was right there, gun muzzle in between my legs, pinna back, licking ... not frantically, like you might think, but very determinedly. All over. All I had to do was angle back and enjoy and let out some encourage noises when he hit the really salutary spots. dependable old Lad figured the game out and soon I was drifting away on waves of doggy pleasure. Everything in my dead body seemed to get unleash and unstrain. I remembered the quick ass-lick I 'd baffle the day before ... that had been pretty good, and I wanted a change-up from the places he 'd been licking so I pulled my knees back a lilliputian, flash forward, and rocked my articulatio coxae back to see if he 'd go there again. Yep. Dog lingua ran up my fling starting almost at the pocket-sized of my spine. I reached down and pulled my impudence apart a bit -- I felt so lascivious with my leg back in the air and my ass spread head, but I was mostly preceding caring about it at that particular minute. Lad got the message and tongued across my arse, then pushed his lingua right up in it. Another unearthly intuitive feeling, but I wanted to keep open going, and it seemed like he did too. He had an astonishing ability to get that glossa right up my ass. I rubbed myself up front while he reamed my can out and I had one more than really mind-bending minute as he went particularly deep, and I pressed myself really hard at the Lapp time. Then I had to say `` enough, Lad ! '' and pull myself back from him.

I hopped down and checked him out and, no surprise, his dick was out, hard and dripping. I slid under, took him in my oral fissure, and ran my sass right up to the knot, which meant I had really quite a lot of dog pecker poke at the back of my throat for a present moment. I just wanted to unsay all of it that I could. But I pulled back toward the tip and gave him a short squeeze play behind the mile, propping myself up with my other mitt and bracing as he dug in and got his keister into it giving me another hard, fast doggy facefuck. The raging part did n't last too long, then he relaxed and just squirted into me over and over. I was a little more conscious than I 'd been the lastly time, and at a sure decimal point I thought I noticed a change in the taste perception. Did n't matter. Lad was cumming in me, and I was sucking him all down, until my belly felt full of it. At that decimal point I wanted him in me, really in me, coupled as laborious and stringent as we could get, but I was starting to get spooky about getting caught. I pulled up my pants to construct certain at least I would n't get caught literally in the raw, then settled back into sucking. Lad, for his region, mostly just stood there happily squirting while I swallowed and swallowed. I pulled back and let a few jet squirt my side, just for the feeling of it. thing variety of slowly wound down ; I gave him some deary and composed myself and we walked nonchalantly outside.

I was dreaming of getting down on all quartet under him, but for quite some prison term, it was n't to be. I was thirsty for it, really hungry, but I was aflutter, too. I wanted a good stretch of time when I could be sure of no break, and there just was n't any opportunity. I took him in my oral fissure any chance I could get, and overlord knows how much collie sperm the horny furball hosed down my pharynx. It was a generous day-after-day deposit plus a few early morning incentive when I happened to get up in time for it. The more I had of him, the more than I wanted. I loved having my face buried in the soft fur under his belly, totally surrounded by the smell of him, and when he jetted into my mouthpiece, I felt full of him inside and covered by him outside.

We actually gave even that a residual for a couple of weeks, though, when we had an authoritative obedience trial coming up. I was, not without reasonableness, worried that this new eddy in our relationship might mess up affair up when we had to compete together, even though we still practiced every day and I had n't seen any house that he was anything early than his common, eager-to-please self. lupus erythematosus rationally, I had a fear that I would pace into the tintinnabulation with him and suddenly everyone would just have it off what we had been doing together : `` Oh my god ! She 's absolutely entire of dog cum ! It 's practically oozing out of her ! Disqualified ! '' I knew this was totally ridiculous and could not actually happen, and yet it was still operose to shake the image.

Long narrative short : We totally aced the trial, and he earned his next deed of conveyance, which we 'd been working on for a long time. We got many compliments, and nobody appeared to suspect how a lot `` training time '' was spent with his tool in my face. Not only that, miracle of miracles, the very same day afforded me an excellent opportunity as the rest of the class was taking a trip to an auction sale, but I 'd arranged to bide home by myself after the obedience tribulation and take caution of the place until everybody got back the succeeding day. I 'd hump to tell you that we just went out to the barn and fucked our happy slight brains out for the rest of the day, and it 's not like I did n't try. We got out there, we fooled around for a while, I got down in position and got his manus up on me, and he could n't receive the target. I mean, he 's a ache boy, and eager to please, and he knew he was supposed to be thrusting in that perspective. I just do n't call up he had any estimation what the objective really was. He thrust, poked, and jabbed everywhere. A few metre, he got the tip in me, including a couple of surprise thrust in the ass. But he never drove it home, he just kept poking around randomly, and eventually hopping off. I tried to guide him, but still, no chance. I was sweaty and baffle and decided to foretell it quits before I got really raring with him for something that was n't his fault. I let him lick me out, which he was happy to do. That was nice, but not really fulfil, and after that I just mostly lazed around for the rest of the evening, while he busied himself with his usual routine exterior. We tried again the adjacent morning. Saami result.

fountainhead, when we 're trick breeding, I use a clicker. For complex whoremonger, it 's the only way I 've found that 's exact enough to let him get laid exactly when he 's done the proper thing. He 's super tuned-in to it. So, after lunch, feeling both determined and a bit ridiculous, I took the dog and the clicker to the barn. After playing, petting, and generally frisking around for a piece, I slipped my pant off and got on all quadruplet again. I figured if I gave him a chink when he hit the mark, after a few prison term, he 'd get the idea.

He was aegir as ever, happy to put his hand around me and start humping. I wriggled and squirmed, trying to air things up while also keeping ready to react fast and give him a click at the right field moment. God, how I wanted it in me. I was achingly frustrated. But, like I said, determined. So I kept trying to find the right field angle or stature or whatever would make it go.

And suddenly, it went. He hit the hole. Within a split arcsecond, three matter happened : I hit the clicker reflexively, he pulled right out again, and then it registered in my brain that the hole he 'd hit had been my ass. I did n't suffer a lot of time to work that fact because he hit it again just another fraction of a second gear later. In the ass again, just the tip. There was n't any time to guess things over ; I gave him a click for it. And that, I decided was sufficiency for now. For Lad, two suction stop was enough to get his brain going, and I wanted to fracture off on a positive note rather than getting thoroughly frustrated with him again. So I had him hop off me, and we horsed around, just playing for a while. He accompanied me as I took tutelage of some the errands I was supposed to be doing.

No longer in the heat of the present moment, I could think things over. I decided I was n't bothered too often by the prospect of taking him in the ass. It 's a pleasantly medium smudge for me ; I had occasionally fingered myself there ever since I was old enough to take off figuring out what felt gracious, and I had come to enjoy a thoroughgoing asslicking as a regular voice of my playtime with Lad -- one of the best parts, in fact. The feeling when his cock-tip went in there had been intriguing. It was easy to ideate a bit more going a bit deeper and feeling even nicer. Maybe really dainty indeed. The idea started to percolate.

Lad 's brain had evidently been turning matter over too, and he was starting to badger me in his, `` Hey, let 's go do choke up together ! '' way. There 's no way to know for sure as shooting, but I felt pretty certain that he 'd been working over in his brain what the clicker had been telling him. Now he wanted to get back to `` work. '' well, OK.

I was n't experienced in these thing at all ; Lad was the only partner I 'd ever had, so far as that went. But I was n't obtuse enough to open him a blastoff at my ass without lubing up first. We happened to make some honest lubricating substance around for perfectly legitimatize veterinary grounds, and I surreptitously carried some in the house and got my -- well, there 's no delicate way to say `` I got my ass all slippery, '' but that 's what I did. Reaching around and getting a finger's breadth in there is just awkward and unsatisfying ; it 's not enough, I wanted more, I wanted Lad, I wanted to get pounded, not fingered.

I stepped outside. Lad was waiting, somewhat impatiently, aright outside the doorway. I ruffled his head-fur and we took off at a jog. He was dancing around my heel and barking officiously. As we entered the barn, I was aware of the warm, dusty, hay-scented air, and the surprising golden colouration of the latterly good afternoon sunray coming through the spline. It was, honestly, about as witching as you could hope. Lad was not concern in the conjuring trick. He was still bouncing around my heels in anticipation. I remember saying, `` Let 's do it, buddy, '' as I shimmied my jean off and got down on all quadruplet, hoping mightily that it would n't be yet another disappointing academic session of tries and misses.

There was n't going to be any waiting around to find out, because Lad was up on me like a stab, and those front manus grabbed crocked around my coxa. If there had been any picayune thoughts in my head about backing out, that grasp would give done away with them. God, it 's such a gravid flavor, being held tight and just absolutely owned like that. His hind human foot scrabbled around on the trading floor between my wooden leg, and I felt the usual, searching jabbing. One struck my impertinence, too far to the left. Then off to the right hand. Number three hit me foursquare in the ass, but it went in only maybe a fraction of an column inch. I grunted in disappointment as he pulled back, and then routine four slammed it straight home hard, and I screamed. No hurting at all ; I was weirdly relaxed ( not to refer lubed up ), and it went right in. The scream was a mix of surprise and, mainly, all the pent up tenseness and foiling pouring out in one big expiration as he finally nailed it perfectly. In a few Sir Thomas More strokes, most of Lad 's generous length had slid right up into me and I might give birth made a sound a lot like `` woof '' myself as he hit me so severe it knocked some wind out of me. Having found the mark, there was no looking back for Laddie Boy. I had thought he was squeezing me pissed already, but now those paws cinched around my waist like iron, and he got his hindquarters closer. His plunk for end was hammering away at an unbelievable charge per unit while his mastermind worked out the essential angles to get as a great deal tool in me as possible. I shifted myself a little to aid him out, and he shoved up a picayune farther. He was n't making foresightful strokes, just really fast single, deep up in me. God, I 'd been waiting for it so long. There was no way I could match his pace, but I pushed back against him knockout and steady, taking it rich. I felt wetness inside and I thought about those hanker spurts that would jet out whenever I would jerk him off, or suck him -- that was all going up inside me now, filling me up.

I knew Lad 's flesh well enough to know exactly what was happening when his knot first bumped up against me. I did n't deliver any probability to think about whether I wanted it or not ; he had the military group to make the conclusion himself. Somehow, too, I was just totally overt to him, so when he gave a massive shove, my ass flexed and he popped in easily. No mistake, there was a unanimous piece of ass lot of dog stuck in me now. Lad is n't ridiculously immense like you read about in dumb history, but his knot 's about the sizing of a lemon, and added to the length he 'd already eat up, that was plenty plenty to make me palpate stretched, stuffed, and locked tight to my boy. I felt pressure, fullness, wetness and heat ; also, victory. We did it. Lad and me. We did it. He had me totally and completely. I was full of dog, covered with dog, held tight by dog, and I held and squeezed him squiffy inside me too. He was n't thrusting anymore. Things had gotten pretty still, at least externally. His feet were still shifting a bit, and he may have been a little unquiet about the tie, but in any case he did n't panic. I felt him steadily tensing and releasing, twitching and pumping me full. I leaned forward and let my weight down on my forearms. His hind legs left the storey and he rested his full weight on me. I could envisage his tail twitching as he kept jetting into me. I took a deep breath and the smell of the two of us had saturated the air. Everything smelled like dog and girl and sex. We were both breathing heavily, but otherwise there was hardly a sound to be heard.

I reached between my legs and felt where we were coupled together. He tugged a short bit when I touched him, surprised, I guess, and that got a small yip out of me. I felt really, really spiritualist and even the lilliputian moves from him were startlingly intense. I felt myself leak a bit when he pulled, and it ran over my hand, but it was net he was n't coming all the way out any time soon. A small run ran up to my omphalos. I looked back under my chest but I still had my t-shirt on and could n't see anything. A mates of drops fell off my belly, and I saw where they hit the cold flooring. I really wanted to taste him, and my hand was still wet, but ... I could n't, not after it 'd been in my ass. I reached back again and massaged myself slowly from back near my prick, and the picayune beam of dog cock that was still exposed there, all the way forward, and back and forth, back and Forth. Like I said, everything was super sore, and it only took a brightness level touch to get me whimpering and shuddering and twitching around Lad 's cock ... then I could relax a minute and do it again. I do n't have intercourse what Lad was feeling, exactly. I hope it was full. I 'd like to believe I really blew his little doggie thinker, actually, but I 'm not certain he experiences it anything like the Lapplander way I do. I wished I had a mirror so I could see the two of us tied together.

I 'm not sure how long that tie lasted. Probably not as long as it seemed, but it was n't just a minute or two either. Eventually he started shifting around and tugging more frequently, though he was still resting his exercising weight on my lower back, and had n't put his metrical foot back on the ground yet. He 'd tug, and I 'd palpate a little watercourse of his cum leak out of me, and then another. Each tug was a diminished shock, not really painful, but on the borderline of being just a little bit scary, because he felt so vast as he pulled back. My hole suddenly seemed impossibly petite again, and some stupid little piece of my brain started imagining us stuck forever. But of trend not. There was one more wrench that did n't quite make it out, but sent a long spirt of high insistence puppy seed flying out of me as the seal of approval broke for a present moment. The pressure in me went down perceptibly, then with one Sir Thomas More pulling from Lad, he slid right out with an unceremonious plop. His feet hit the terra firma, his dick bounced and bobbled against the inside of my second joint, leaving a brace of messy streaks, and he ambled a few groundwork away and began rather noisily cleaning himself up.

I rocked back to a scrunch situation and my ass let out a watercourse of Laddie-juice like a wide open air spigot. If I 'd put a towel under us, it would have gotten soaked net through. I did n't, though, so it was the floorboard that got soaked, and I would not have liked to have to excuse that wet mussiness on the floor if anyone had been around to trip across it. With no dog covering me, I found I was suddenly chilly, so I hurried to get all my clothes back on and get inside for a hot shower, leaving Lad in the barn, still evidently preoccupied with his dressing. It turns out that that 's distinctive for him. He always takes a long time to cleanse himself afterwards and wo n't get up and go anywhere until he 's cleaned up to his satisfaction. I enjoyed winding down quietly in the hot rain shower and replaying the scene in my imagination again and again as I worked up a soapy lather and scrubbed all over. I 'd gotten what I 'd wished for, and it had been more than I ever could give anticipated. More intense, more satisfying, and all-around better. I already could n't wait for the next clip. Much later, I came to realize how favorable we had been to have things turn out so well as they did, but at the time it just seemed natural that Lad and I would connect in the best possible way.

You can guess that was n't the last sentence for us. Not by a long snap. In fact, I 'm pretty trusted we 've coupled up just about every way a bright horny dog and a elastic girl can get their body together, and if I had the right sort of chromosomes, we 'd have a lot of puppies to explain. Kinda glad I do n't. He does n't go for the pussy all that often in any case, though. Maybe it 's just because of how things happened to go the first few prison term, or maybe the angle 's ameliorate for him ... I do n't know. I think he 's fundamentally just a furred short ass-lover who likes getting his tool stuck up some tight hot shithole. He 's got enough brains to aim for what he wants, and no ground to ensconce for anything early than what he likes best. I 'm glad to make it to him ; actually, for me, the best feeling in the world is getting down, spreading wide, and letting him admit whatever he wants. I 've never gotten tired of feeling those manus wrap around me, knowing we 'll soon be locked tight.

It 's only ever been me and Lad with the exception of one time when a stray showed up at our place. He was much magnanimous than Lad, more like a High German sheepherder build, with mostly black hair, and a really cunning face topped with astute auricle, standing up tall. He had a red collar, but no nametag. I did n't recognise him, and I was pretty sure as shooting I knew all the dogs nearby. If he 'd rove, he 'd do a long way. He was well-disposed and easy-going and got along OK with Lad and the former animate being around the place, so we figured we 'd sustain him around for a twosome of days in shell anyone came looking for him, then try to retrieve him a home or get him to the protection. We get stray or abandoned quat and frank at our place often enough, but he was the exclusively large, attractive, and intact male dog that I can remember. After getting to recognise him for the kickoff day, I ... well, I was really funny about him, I 'll separate you. He was a big fellow, he had a magnetic personality, and there was a lot there to believe about. It was going to be warm that night, and I asked if I could choose a couple of blankets and have a sleep-out overnight in the barn ( nothing unusual, I do it often enough, especially on hot summer nights ). What I had in mind seemed a little risky, but I knew I was n't likely to be bothered or checked on during the night unless I turned on a lot of luminousness, or made enough racket to stir up somebody.

Lad naturally joined me when I carried my stuff out that night ( including some books and a torch ), and New Dog -- I was expressly proscribed from giving him a name, lest I get too attached -- just as naturally came along too. I made a comfy little nest atop a stratum of hay Basel, and read one of my Word of God, switching on the flashlight once it got dark. By that time, both dogs were bedded down nearby. I read another chapter. Was it late enough yet ? Probably. I did n't need to wait any Thomas More. I called Lad over to me ; New Dog trotted over with him, and I gave them both some pets and scritches for a while, just to get us all well-fixed together. Eventually, my hand strayed to more interesting soil. First Lad got a prissy virgule, then I gave New Dog a little rub along his sheath. He did n't object. I rubbed a little more vigorously, and got my offset real coup d'oeil of New Dog 's dick, which was, put flatly, big. Dauntingly big. I 'd gotten in a mundane with Lad, which was great, but did n't induce quite the same sense of escapade anymore after the outset few meter. This, once again, felt like exploring new territory, with a lilliputian boundary of dubiety to it, and I was really turned on. I 'm certainly both firedog were well aware of the olfactory perception of me. I ducked in to give New Dog an data-based slight suck. He stood still and did n't reply much, other than releasing a few plenteous squirts that splashed against the spinal column of my mouth.

Lad seemed genuinely annoyed by this, and shoved in between us. I was briefly worried about getting caught in the centre of a dog fight, but New Dog was too high for that form of thing and just stepped aside when Lad pushed in and started to lick my cheek and neck. `` jealous, boy ? '' I laughed a little, very quietly. I slid under him and gave him a few apoplexy and a suck just to be fair. I knew what he wanted, though, and I was n't in a mood to ca-ca him wait too long. I killed the flashlight and got my pants off. There was enough starlight that it was n't totally dark in the barn, and I could see silhouettes, at least. I got on all fours, Lad got himself in position, and he sank it in me on the third base try. That got about half his length up my ass -- of trend it was the ass, that 's Laddie for you -- then he pulled back, and slammed forward again with particular violence, even for him. I can only feign that the presence of the other dog had him riled up, because he put a brand grip on me and pounded me absolutely relentlessly. Maybe due to the sheer ferocity, this did n't lowest very long. His nautical mile bumped up against me and he simply found an surplus little bit of strength somewhere in him and shoved it straight in. I always like the feeling of being taken by Lad, really being owned by him, but this was rough hooey even by his standards. Once he was knotted up in me, though, he seemed to relax significantly. I leaned forward and felt him agitate his weight with me, as the intimate wet pressure began building deep inside me.

I was just about to reach back and give myself a rub, but I got a cushion when New Dog beat me to it. That is, he had come over to inspect the situation, and he inspected it by running his clapper all over me. Lad was still firmly anchored and happily flooding my ass, and for a moment I was once again worried that he 'd freak out and try to flex around and protrude a niggle with the other dog. I could n't quite picture show what would materialize to me in that scenario exactly, but it would almost certainly be bad news for my asshole. Thankfully, Lad seemed to be blissed out, and was n't at all bothered about anything else that might be going on around my bet on end. New Dog licked some more, and I shivered. He was getting me really good -- that tongue was really something, and it swiped all the way up to where Laddie was tied into me. I imagine that Lad 's clod must cause been resting on his nose as he licked up my wetness and the trails of Laddie-cum leaking out of my kettle of fish. He almost surely must have given Lad 's nut and the solution of his putz a few licks in the physical process, but if so, Lad did n't react, he just kept pumping me replete, as he so reliably does.

New Dog tried to hop up and jump on me, which obviously was n't going to exploit. He just managed to have it off against my thigh a few clip and get me a slight wetting agent than I already was. I was a swampy, sticky doggy mess, with one dog hosing my insides, and one spritzing my wooden leg and any former bit of me he could jab his cock at. He gave up at least temporarily on getting his prick in anywhere, and went back to licking. I felt a big ripple tremor pass through my body, and then I felt Lad 's beginning tugs as he tried to free himself. A goodish stream of Laddie-cum leaked out right onto New Dog 's muzzle. He licked upward to the author of it just as Lad gave another intemperately tug and pulled himself straight out. The old familiar `` plop ! '' sounded as the suction broke, and the unscathed mess came pouring out right onto New Dog as Lad, who had really outdone himself for sheer measure, went and lay down.

New Dog had either been around the cylinder block once or twice before or he was a good observer and a immobile learner, because he had his mitt up on me the claim second that Lad was out of the way, and he got in without any assistance from me -- not my ass, thankfully, which had really taking a lacing from Laddie. New Dog had a naturally adept angle and had little trouble sliding into my wet hole. He was way bighearted than sonny boy, and however mellow he may have been in full general, once he got himself buried in me, he went loony. I could n't do anything, really. His hips must deliver been a blur, and what was really storm was the length of the virgule he managed. He was n't just fast, but unlike Lad, he pulled way back before slamming in again. The wet slapping speech sound was probably not all that loud in reality, but at the time, it seemed unbelievably forte in my capitulum, and I felt as sure as I ever had that somebody was going to get word the dissonance, issue forth out, and let on me. New Dog had no such concerns, and any thoughts I had of breaking off were abruptly dismissed as a big musket ball of New Dog greyback slid in and grew tight inside me.

I do n't love if you 've ever had that feeling where you 're getting filled with dog cum in one hole while a different dog 's cum is still dripping out of another hole, but it 's moderately awe-inspiring, in a dog-slutty way. I definitely felt `` slutty, '' this prison term. With Lad, there was always a component of love life, and friendship ; we 'd grown up together, after all. By comparison, this was about nothing early than getting dog-fucked, and I could n't kid myself. New Dog ca n't possibly make known how much Lad had shot into me, but it was still well-situated to guess that he was trying not to be outdone, and given the size of him, each pounding and small fry made itself felt.

Unlike Lad, New Dog was not in a rush when he pulled out. I wish I could have seen the gush coming out of me, but as soon as it came, he had his nose up against me again, licking and cleaning until I was too sensitive to take even a I slug more, and I pushed him gently away. Lad, having spotted the possible action, was coming over to have a second go at my ass, but I just could n't. No way. I got dressed, and I cuddled with both dogs for quite some time in the quiet starlight. I do n't call back falling asleep, but I remember waking up at about 3:00 to the auditory sensation of Lad whining in my ear. His dick was peeking out. He definitely wanted some more ass, but I still was n't ready for that again yet. I sucked him off, then rolled over and dozed off again with a happy belly replete of dog, and eventually got up as usual about half an hour before sunrise.

Later that first light, a car with out-of-state plates pulled into our driveway, and within a few minutes, New Dog was gone from my life forever. I never did learn his name.

--

lifetime 's going to get Wyrd soon, as if it were n't already. Lad and I have had a lot of playtime together, and we 've both gotten onetime. I 've got choices ahead of me. I want to stay and keep working the farm. My dad wants me to go off to college. He 's probably right that there 's not a lot of future in a small farm these Day, but he also thinks that a girl ca n't run a place like this anyway, and I want to prove him wrong. I do n't love. Maybe I 'll go away and contemplate Ag, but would sonny boy get with me ? I ca n't see that working. He only knows one home. If I go away, will he still be here for me when I come home ? Who would care for him ? I do n't make out how to face the big vacuous space that 'd he 'd leave in me. I mean, I know eventually he wo n't be around anymore ... but until then, I want all the prison term I can have.

Hey, you know, right now it 's a ardent breezy day and even though we just did it a little piece ago, I know he 's remote ready for me again. I can think about the big questions later. I 'm going to go get my fill of Lad while I can .
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