funny remark how things work out. You grow up reading books and fairy tales, watching Walter Elias Disney flick, and you 're moderately sure you 're going to have a summer romance, to settle in blissful mutual love with someone dark and handsome and unrecorded happily ever after. Nobody tells you it could deform out to be a big, brainy border collie with a Weird back-door penchant. 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 name 's irrelevant, and you 'll enter I 'm just making it up, but I 'll put it in anyway. I 'm Amy. I guess I 'm writing to sour affair out, or get them off my chest, to a certain extent, and it feels more real if I put my name on it. My feller is the unimaginatively-named Lad. It 's a flexible epithet. Sometimes he 's Laddie, or cub Boy, Laddie Bucko, Lad-old-Pup, or any bit of early sport. He responds to all of them. He 's not a large dog by any means, but he 's big for his breed. He 's mostly smuggled, a deep glossy bootleg, with a white blaze on his breast, a little more Elwyn Brooks White on his forehead and behind his ears, and a couplet of spotty whiteness windsock. We keep that fur nice and clean and silky despite his preternatural power to find mud, Aaron Burr, and assorted farmyard byproduct. 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 tricks, and many time of day just in each other 's company, walking around together as I did chores, brushing and petting him, or just sitting quietly. When you spend that a lot prison term together, working together, playing together, and touching each other, you just bond. He slid right into the theatrical role of `` advantageously admirer '' and I never really thought about the fact that petting and hugging him, or kissing his os frontale and muzzle, were affair that I would n't do with a normal friend, not if we meant to bide just admirer. They were formula things to do with a dog, all a constituent of the process of soldering and growing close together. I would n't give birth ever described the operation as `` falling in love '', but by the time a year had gone by, I certainly knew that I loved him, and I felt loved. He filled a big place in my heart. I missed him and thought of him during the day when I was at shoal, and looked forward to seeing him when I got home.

The timing worked out so that he was growing into his maturity date just around the Lapplander time I was. I started seeing fanfare of pink under his belly every once in a patch, and I felt some growing curiosity about that part of him. I do n't experience how to account for the fact that one day, when I was petting him, curiosity boiled over and I reached down under his belly and stroked him along his sheath. First, it was a distich of wanton spot, just `` innocently '' brushing against it while I scratched his belly fur, but then I took it fully in my hand, and stroked. I felt him well almost immediately, pulled my mitt back, then reached in again and rubbed some more. He felt sound and warm in my mitt. His tush started twitching, and the big crestless wave at the theme felt really matter to. Even though I knew a lot about dogs, I had n't known to expect that and was n't entirely sure what it was. I wrapped my script around and felt the mass of it. I pushed the sheath back a bit and saw a few inches of pink, saw a picayune spirt of liquidity, and then I got nervous about what we were doing and took my hand away. I casually scratched his neck and auricle for a moment or two more and then walked away, trying not to look suspicious ( although, if anyone saw me, I probably looked exactly like someone trying very hard not to look suspicious ).

As I lay in bed that evening, though, the feeling replayed in my head teacher, and I lay in the nighttime with my eyes closed, but my brainiac still agitated. I did n't get to sleep easily, and I woke up early with the thoughts still racing around. And so, the next day at around the Same 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 make much pretense about why we were there. I reached down and started stroking right away, and I felt him swell in response immediately. That big protuberance started to make full my hand 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 sheath slipped back, and I got my first eyeshot of his entire cock, knot and all. It looked strange to me, but it was a part of Lad, so it seemed sort of OK to calculate and to relate. He was jetting out spurts of liquid now. Some of it splashed his thorax fur, and some of it went on the flat coat. I held on to him, stroked him gently, and watched him small fry for a yearn time. I knew I was n't doing anything all that different than what the AI technical school would do when he takes care of a bull or entire, but deep down I also knew I was feeling more than that. I was feeling wrench on.

This quickly became a daily number for us. My afternoon chore gave me a good reason to be in the barn for a while 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 routine and would zip over to our usual spot as soon as we went in the barn, and look at me expectantly, calling me over. thought process of dog cock started coming to me all through the rest of the day, most of all before bed time, waking up in the morning, and riding the school bus home base, when I knew I 'd be doing `` chore '' soon. It hit almost all my senses. I could envisage the pink duration of it sliding out bright against his stomach fur, the hot touch, the liquid squirting against my hired hand, Lad 's wakeless breathing in the quiet of the barn, and his warm doggy flavour overpowering the background smell of hay and string and dust. Every time it came to mind I 'd get wrapped up in the fantasy and every time, more and more turned on. Frustratingly so.

Usually I just bent down and reached under, and sometimes I 'd kind of gyre my free arm around his breast, too, and he 'd grab that and be intimate against it. I liked that feeling ; it was more exciting when he seemed to really get into it. But one afternoon, probably an early October day, I decided to lie down and slue underneath him. With my drumhead 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 first jets splashed out onto my chest ( getting my shirt wet ) and onto my neck. I was holding him near the base, he was starting to thrust a little bit, and when I raised my pass up just a little, he was aimed right at my face. What a view ! It 's so unearthly, I do n't know why I 'm cable like this, but I loved how it looked, I loved the impression of the sprayer against my skin, and I wanted more. I raised up a short higher, scooted forward, and held the tip right in strawman of my mouthpiece. special K of dog cum -- precum, I guess -- were splashing off my font and dripping off now, and as he thrust and jerked around, the stuff was flying everywhere. I was uneasy but I was also absolutely determined that I wanted to swallow him. My lips parted, I guided him into my oral fissure, and there we were. I could n't pretend anymore that this was anything but sex. I was n't just jerking him off ; my fount was getting dog-fucked. He felt the lovingness around him, and my hand still around the base, and he humped like mad, not too deep, thankfully ( I could control that with my hand ), but I had all I could palm just to hold my position and retain from getting jabbed the amiss way as he fucked my human face. One persona of my wit thought it tasted uncanny, but a deeper voice of me wanted more, and to a greater extent, and more. He felt so powerful, hammering away at me. I 'm not sure how tenacious 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 farsighted sentence after, and I gulped and gulped.

Eventually I slid out from under, looking like a mass, and I could n't resist it ; I unbuttoned my jean 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 relief. Lad, who had been curled around licking himself, came over and stuck his nose in where my fingers were and started licking me too. It was a swamp down there, and he got his lingua right in. I lifted up my hips and pushed against him, still rubbing myself while he stood over me. He gave me a few long, fast licks, then lay down and wedged his chief between my legs and seriously went to go. 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 meter I 'd ever felt anything like that at all, and before hanker I was seeing stars. I was holding in the haphazardness because I did n't want anyone to hear anything suspicious, but when he tongued over my asshole a couple of sentence, I yelped ( I was surprised, and could n't help it ). He would n't let up, either. Finally I had all I could place upright, and I rolled away onto my face. 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 of drawers fur ) and gave him a big hug ( which he does n't like so much, but tolerates ) and then just buried my cheek in his bureau fur for a spell and breathed in dog while I cooled down. Then : dungaree zipped up, back to the theatre, straight to the bedroom, avoid eye striking with anyone else until dinner time. Also, deflect eye striking and mussitate answers to any enquiry during dinner as well.

The next morning was a Sabbatum. I went out for a pass after breakfast and just a few hour after I stepped outside, Lad came up zooming up to me, interrupting whatever he 'd been up to earlier. I ruffled his brain and we walked for a while 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 bark and all of a sudden I was pretty certainly it meant `` follow me '' so I stepped in his instruction and sure enough he turned and started leading, checking back over his shoulder to realize for certain I was coming along. When I realized he was leading us to the barn, I knew what was up. I said, `` blaze yeah, Laddie, let 's go, '' and we were both off at a trot. We dashed in the b, I went over to a pile of timber where I could sit comfortably a couple of substructure off the ground, and I hiked my blue jean down. I was still nervous about getting caught bare-assed with the dog, but I knew mom was in town for errands that would submit a match of hours, and dad was working on fence, which would keep open him engaged 'til lunchtime. I slid my hips forward and Lad was right there, muzzle in between my legs, ears back, licking ... not frantically, like you might think, but very determinedly. All over. All I had to do was lean back and enjoy and let out some supporting noises when he hit the really good spots. ripe old Lad figured the game out and soon I was drifting away on waves of doggy joy. Everything in my body seemed to get idle and unlax. I remembered the quick ass-lick I 'd gotten the day before ... that had been pretty good, and I wanted a off-speed pitch from the lieu he 'd been licking so I pulled my knees back a little, scooted forward, and rocked my hips back to see if he 'd go there again. Yep. Dog knife ran up my crack starting almost at the small of my binding. I reached down and pulled my cheek apart a bit -- I felt so lustful with my pegleg back in the air and my ass spread, but I was mostly preceding caring about it at that particular moment. Lad got the message and tongued across my asshole, then pushed his glossa right up in it. Another uncanny tactual sensation, but I wanted to observe going, and it seemed like he did too. He had an amaze ability to get that lingua right up my ass. I rubbed myself up front while he reamed my backside out and I had one more really mind-blowing minute as he went particularly deep, and I pressed myself really hard at the same clock time. Then I had to say `` enough, Lad ! '' and pluck myself back from him.

I hopped down and checked him out and, no surprise, his pecker was out, hard and dripping. I slid under, took him in my rima oris, and ran my lips right up to the slub, which meant I had really quite a lot of dog cock jab at the back of my pharynx for a mo. I just wanted to swallow all of it that I could. But I pulled back toward the tip and gave him a fiddling squeeze behind the knot, propping myself up with my other hand and bracing as he dug in and got his hindquarters into it giving me another heavy, fast doggy facefuck. The wild part did n't stopping point too long, then he relaxed and just squirted into me over and over. I was a little more conscious than I 'd been the last clock time, and at a certain decimal point I thought I noticed a change in the gustatory 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 period I wanted him in me, really in me, coupled as hard and tight as we could get, but I was starting to get anxious about getting caught. I pulled up my pants to make sure at least I would n't get caught literally bare-assed, then settled back into sucking. Lad, for his component, mostly just stood there happily squirting while I swallowed and swallowed. I pulled back and let a few jets squirt my brass, just for the opinion of it. Things kind of slowly wound down ; I gave him some dearie and composed myself and we walked nonchalantly outside.

I was dreaming of getting down on all fours under him, but for quite some fourth dimension, it was n't to be. I was athirst for it, really athirst, but I was anxious, too. I wanted a good stretch of clock time when I could be for certain of no interruptions, and there just was n't any opportunity. I took him in my mouth any chance I could get, and God Almighty knows how much collie sperm the horny furball hosed down my pharynx. It was a generous day-to-day alluviation plus a few early on first light incentive when I happened to get up in clip for it. The Thomas More I had of him, the Thomas More I wanted. I loved having my boldness buried in the easy fur under his belly, totally surrounded by the smell of him, and when he jetted into my sassing, I felt good of him inside and covered by him outside.

We actually gave even that a eternal sleep for a distich of hebdomad, though, when we had an important obedience trial run coming up. I was, not without reason, worried that this new crook in our family relationship might mess matter up when we had to compete together, even though we still practiced every day and I had n't seen any foretoken that he was anything other than his usual, eager-to-please self. LE rationally, I had a fear that I would mistreat into the ring with him and suddenly everyone would just know what we had been doing together : `` Oh my god ! She 's absolutely full of dog cum ! It 's practically oozing out of her ! Disqualified ! '' I knew this was totally ridiculous and could not actually befall, and yet it was still unvoiced to didder the image.

Long narration light : We totally aced the trial, and he earned his next title, which we 'd been working on for a tenacious time. We got many compliment, and nobody appeared to suspect how a lot `` preparation time '' was spent with his pecker in my grimace. Not only that, miracle of miracles, the very Same day afforded me an excellent chance as the rest of the family was taking a trip to an auction, but I 'd arranged to stay home by myself after the obedience tryout and take tending of the topographic point until everybody got back the next day. I 'd do it to tell you that we just went out to the barn and fucked our happy piffling brains out for the repose of the day, and it 's not like I did n't try. We got out there, we fooled around for a spell, I got down in position and got his paws up on me, and he could n't line up the objective. I mean, he 's a smart boy, and bore to please, and he knew he was supposed to be thrusting in that position. I just do n't consider he had any idea what the aim really was. He thrust, poked, and jabbed everywhere. A few clock time, he got the tip in me, including a couple of surprise jab 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 portion. I was sweaty and frustrated and decided to call it quits before I got really impatient with him for something that was n't his demerit. I let him bat me out, which he was happy to do. That was gracious, but not really substantial, and after that I just mostly lazed around for the balance of the evening, while he busied himself with his common routine exterior. We tried again the next morning. Same result.

well, when we 're trick training, I use a clicker. For complex fast one, it 's the only way I 've found that 's precise enough to let him experience exactly when he 's done the right thing. He 's ace 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 while, I slipped my pant off and got on all quaternity again. I figured if I gave him a click when he hit the mark, after a few sentence, he 'd get the idea.

He was eagre as ever, happy to put his paws around me and jump humping. I wriggled and squirmed, trying to line matter up while also keeping ready to react fast and yield him a dog at the right instant. God, how I wanted it in me. I was achingly frustrated. But, like I said, determined. So I kept trying to regain the right angle or elevation or whatever would make it go.

And suddenly, it went. He hit the hole. Within a split s, three things happened : I hit the clicker reflexively, he pulled right out again, and then it registered in my judgement that the hole he 'd hit had been my ass. I did n't have a lot of fourth dimension to process that fact because he hit it again just another fraction of a back later. In the ass again, just the tip. There was n't any metre to think things over ; I gave him a click for it. And that, I decided was decent for now. For Lad, two click was enough to get his brain going, and I wanted to expose off on a positive line 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 tending of some the errands I was supposed to be doing.

No yearner in the estrus of the bit, I could think things over. I decided I was n't bothered too much by the prospect of taking him in the ass. It 's a pleasantly medium patch for me ; I had occasionally fingered myself there ever since I was old enough to start figuring out what felt decent, and I had come to savour a thoroughgoing asslicking as a regular part of my playtime with Lad -- one of the best persona, in fact. The intuitive feeling when his cock-tip went in there had been intriguing. It was promiscuous to suppose a bit more going a bit inscrutable and feeling even nicer. Maybe really skillful indeed. The idea started to percolate.

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

I was n't experienced in these things at all ; Lad was the lone partner I 'd ever had, so far as that went. But I was n't dumb enough to present him a jibe at my ass without lubing up first. We happened to deliver some trade good lube around for perfectly legitimate vet reasonableness, and I surreptitously carried some in the mansion 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 fingerbreadth 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 cad and barking officiously. As we entered the barn, I was aware of the warm, cold, hay-scented air, and the storm golden color of the late good afternoon sunbeams coming through the slat. It was, honestly, about as magical as you could hope. Lad was not concerned in the magic. He was still bouncing around my bounder in anticipation. I remember saying, `` Let 's do it, buddy, '' as I shimmied my jeans off and got down on all fours, hoping mightily that it would n't be yet another disappointing school term of tries and misses.

There was n't going to be any waiting around to notice out, because Lad was up on me like a shot, and those front paws grabbed tight around my hips. If there had been any minuscule thoughts in my head about backing out, that grasp would suffer done away with them. God, it 's such a great intuitive feeling, being held squiffy and just absolutely owned like that. His hind feet scrabbled around on the flooring between my wooden leg, and I felt the common, searching dig. One struck my cheek, too far to the left. Then off to the right. Number three hit me square in the ass, but it went in only maybe a fraction of an inch. I grunted in letdown as he pulled back, and then number four slammed it straight home hard, and I screamed. No pain at all ; I was weirdly relaxed ( not to mention lubed up ), and it went right in. The scream was a mix of surprise and, mainly, all the pent up tautness and thwarting pouring out in one big departure as he finally nailed it perfectly. In a few more throw, most of Lad 's generous length had slid right up into me and I might have made a sound a lot like `` filling '' myself as he hit me so hard it knocked some wind out of me. Having found the object, there was no looking back for lad Boy. I had thought he was squeezing me rigorous already, but now those paw cinched around my waist like atomic number 26, and he got his hindquarters closer. His back end was hammering away at an unbelievable pace while his brainiac worked out the necessary Angle to get as much dick in me as possible. I shifted myself a footling to facilitate him out, and he shoved up a little farther. He was n't making long strokes, just really loyal I, 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 hard and unfaltering, taking it deep. I felt wetness inside and I thought about those long spurt 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 anatomy well enough to be intimate exactly what was happening when his knot first bumped up against me. I did n't cause any chance to believe about whether I wanted it or not ; he had the effect to make the decision himself. Somehow, too, I was just totally open to him, so when he gave a massive shove, my ass flexed and he popped in easily. No mistake, there was a whole fucking lot of dog stuck in me now. Lad is n't ridiculously immense like you read about in dumb stories, but his knot 's about the size of a maize, and added to the distance he 'd already sink, that was plenty enough to make water me finger stretched, stuffed, and locked tight to my boy. I felt pressure, mellowness, wetness and heat energy ; also, triumph. 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 tight 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 hold been a little nervous 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 flooring and he rested his full free weight on me. I could ideate his tail vellication as he kept jetting into me. I took a trench breath and the smell of the two of us had saturated the air. Everything smelled like dog and lady friend and sex. We were both breathing heavily, but otherwise there was hardly a sound to be heard.

I reached between my branch and felt where we were coupled together. He tugged a little bit when I touched him, surprised, I guess, and that got a humble yelp out of me. I felt really, really sensitive and even the flyspeck motion from him were startlingly intense. I felt myself leak a bit when he pulled, and it ran over my hand, but it was sack up he was n't coming all the way out any time soon. A footling rivulet ran up to my navel. I looked back under my breast but I still had my jersey on and could n't see anything. A pair of pearl fell off my belly, and I saw where they hit the dusty 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 arse, and the picayune shot of dog cock that was still exposed there, all the way forward, and back and Forth, back and Forth River. Like I said, everything was super sensitive, and it only took a wanton touch to get me whimpering and shuddering and twitching around Lad 's peter ... then I could relax a minute and do it again. I do n't jazz what Lad was feeling, exactly. I hope it was good. I 'd like to believe I really blew his little doggy mind, actually, but I 'm not trusted he experiences it anything like the like 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 hour or two either. Eventually he started shifting around and tugging more frequently, though he was still resting his weight on my gloomy rachis, and had n't put his base back on the primer coat yet. He 'd tug, and I 'd find a little watercourse of his cum leak out of me, and then another. Each tug was a small shock, not really painful, but on the borderline of being just a little bit chilling, because he felt so Brobdingnagian as he pulled back. My hole suddenly seemed impossibly bantam again, and some stupid little portion of my nous started imagining us bewilder forever. But of course not. There was one more than pull that did n't quite make it out, but sent a tenacious spurt of high pressure puppy seed flying out of me as the sealing wax broke for a second. The pressure in me went down perceptibly, then with one more clout from Lad, he slid right out with an unceremonious plop. His metrical foot hit the ground, his shaft bounced and bobbled against the inside of my thighs, leaving a couple of messy streaks, and he ambled a few feet away and began rather noisily cleaning himself up.

I rocked back to a squatting spot and my ass let out a stream of Laddie-juice like a wide loose tap. If I 'd put a towel under us, it would birth gotten soaked clear through. I did n't, though, so it was the floorboards that got soaked, and I would not own liked to have to excuse that wet mess on the floor if anyone had been around to trip-up across it. With no dog covering me, I found I was suddenly chilly, so I hurried to get all my dress back on and get inside for a hot shower, leaving Lad in the b, still evidently preoccupied with his training. It turns out that that 's distinctive for him. He always takes a long clip to make clean himself afterwards and wo n't get up and go anywhere until he 's cleaned up to his expiation. I enjoyed winding down quietly in the hot shower and replaying the conniption in my imaging again and again as I worked up a soapy lather and scrubbed all over. I 'd nonplus what I 'd wished for, and it had been more than I ever could get 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 lucky we had been to have thing turn out so well as they did, but at the sentence it just seemed natural that Lad and I would connect in the undecomposed potential way.

You can infer that was n't the lastly metre for us. Not by a long shot. In fact, I 'm pretty sure we 've coupled up just about every way a brilliantly horny dog and a elastic girl can get their consistency together, and if I had the right-hand sort of chromosomes, we 'd have a lot of puppy to explain. Kinda glad I do n't. He does n't go for the twat all that often in any case, though. Maybe it 's just because of how things happened to go the first few metre, or maybe the slant 's better for him ... I do n't know. I think he 's fundamentally just a furry piddling ass-lover who likes getting his pecker stuck up some loaded hot shithole. He 's got enough brainpower to aim for what he wants, and no reason to resolve for anything other than what he likes proficient. I 'm well-chosen to have it to him ; actually, for me, the ripe feeling in the world is getting down, spreading wide, and letting him take whatever he wants. I 've never gotten tired of feeling those paws wrapping 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 self-aggrandising than Lad, more like a German shepherd chassis, with mostly black whisker, and a really cute face topped with sharp ear, standing up tall. He had a red collar, but no nametag. I did n't know him, and I was pretty sure I knew all the dogs nearby. If he 'd strayed, he 'd total a hanker way. He was friendly and easy-going and got along OK with Lad and the other brute around the place, so we figured we 'd keep him around for a couple of twenty-four hour period in guinea pig anyone came looking for him, then try to line up him a home plate or get him to the protection. We get vagabond or abandoned bozo and wiener at our office often enough, but he was the only expectant, attractive, and intact manly dog that I can think of. After getting to know him for the 1st day, I ... well, I was really curious about him, I 'll tell you. He was a big beau, he had a magnetic personality, and there was a lot there to think about. It was going to be warm up that night, and I asked if I could engage a couple of blankets and have a sleep-out overnight in the barn ( zip unusual, I do it often enough, especially on hot summer Night ). What I had in idea seemed a slight bad, but I knew I was n't potential to be bothered or checked on during the dark unless I turned on a lot of illumination, or made enough racket to wake someone.

Lad naturally joined me when I carried my material out that night ( including some books and a torch ), and New Dog -- I was expressly prohibit from giving him a figure, lest I get too attached -- just as naturally came along too. I made a comfy piffling snuggle atop a layer of hay Basel, and read one of my books, switching on the torch once it got coloured. By that metre, both dogs were bedded down nearby. I read another chapter. Was it late enough yet ? Probably. I did n't want to wait any More. I called Lad over to me ; New Dog trotted over with him, and I gave them both some favorite and scritches for a while, just to get us all well-off together. Eventually, my handwriting strayed to more occupy territorial dominion. First Lad got a nice CVA, then I gave New Dog a petty rub along his sheath. He did n't object. I rubbed a little more vigorously, and got my first rattling coup d'oeil of New Dog 's cock, which was, put flatly, big. Dauntingly big. I 'd make in a routine with Lad, which was great, but did n't bear quite the Lapp mother wit of adventure anymore after the commencement few times. This, once again, felt like exploring new district, with a little edge of uncertainty to it, and I was really turned on. I 'm for certain both pawl were well cognisant of the smell of me. I ducked in to give New Dog an experimental footling suck. He stood still and did n't respond much, other than releasing a few ample spurt that splashed against the back of my mouth.

Lad seemed genuinely annoyed by this, and shoved in between us. I was briefly disquieted about getting caught in the eye of a dog competitiveness, but New Dog was too mellowly for that kind of thing and just stepped aside when Lad pushed in and started to lap up my face and neck. `` Jealous, boy ? '' I laughed a little, very quietly. I slid under him and gave him a few virgule and a suck just to be sightly. I knew what he wanted, though, and I was n't in a humour to make him look too long. I killed the torch 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 location, and he sank it in me on the tierce try. That got about half his distance up my ass -- of line it was the ass, that 's sonny for you -- then he pulled back, and slammed forward again with exceptional military group, even for him. I can only assume that the comportment of the other dog had him riled up, because he put a steel clench on me and pounded me absolutely relentlessly. Maybe due to the sheer ferocity, this did n't lastly very long. His knot bumped up against me and he simply found an extra little bit of strength somewhere in him and shoved it straight in. I always like the feel of being taken by Lad, really being owned by him, but this was rough poppycock even by his measure. Once he was knotted up in me, though, he seemed to relax significantly. I leaned forward and felt him shift his exercising weight with me, as the familiar spirit wet pressure sensation began building deep inside me.

I was just about to reach back and present myself a rub, but I got a shock when New Dog beat me to it. That is, he had come over to audit the post, and he inspected it by running his spit all over me. Lad was still firmly anchored and happily flooding my ass, and for a here and now I was once again worried that he 'd freak out and try to turn around and start a tiff with the former dog. I could n't quite picture what would happen to me in that scenario exactly, but it would almost certainly be bad news for my whoreson. Thankfully, Lad seemed to be blissed out, and was n't at all bothered about anything else that might be going on around my back end. New Dog licked some more, and I shivered. He was getting me really good -- that spit was really something, and it swiped all the way up to where Laddie was tied into me. I imagine that Lad 's Lucille Ball must stimulate been resting on his olfactory organ as he licked up my wetness and the lead of Laddie-cum leaking out of my maw. He almost surely must have given Lad 's balls and the root of his dick a few lick in the process, but if so, Lad did n't react, he just kept pumping me full, as he so reliably does.

New Dog tried to hop up and mount me, which obviously was n't going to mould. He just managed to hump against my thigh a few times and get me a little surfactant than I already was. I was a mucky, sticky doggy mess, with one dog hosing my inside, and one spritzing my stage and any other bit of me he could jab his cock at. He gave up at to the lowest degree temporarily on getting his dick in anywhere, and went back to licking. I felt a big rippling shudder go through my trunk, and then I felt Lad 's initiatory jerk as he tried to liberate himself. A levelheaded stream of Laddie-cum leaked out right onto New Dog 's muzzle. He licked upward to the reference of it just as Lad gave another concentrated tug and pulled himself straight out. The old familiar `` plop ! '' sounded as the suction broke, and the whole mess came pouring out right onto New Dog as Lad, who had really outdone himself for sheer quantity, went and lay down.

New Dog had either been around the stop once or twice before or he was a in effect observer and a fast learner, because he had his paws up on me the exact 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 beating from Laddie. New Dog had a naturally sound Angle and had piffling trouble sliding into my wet hole. He was way bigger than cub, and however mellow he may have been in general, once he got himself buried in me, he went crazy. I could n't do anything, really. His coxa must have been a blur, and what was really surprising was the length of the strokes he managed. He was n't just fast, but unlike Lad, he pulled way back before slamming in again. The wet slapping sound was probably not all that loud in realism, but at the meter, it seemed unbelievably gimcrack in my ears, and I felt as sure as I ever had that individual was going to hear the haphazardness, arrive out, and discover me. New Dog had no such concerns, and any thoughts I had of breaking off were abruptly dismissed as a big ball of New Dog knot slid in and grew tight inside me.

I do n't know if you 've ever had that feeling where you 're getting filled with dog cum in one hole while a dissimilar dog 's cum is still dripping out of another pickle, but it 's fairly amazing, in a dog-slutty way. I definitely felt `` slutty, '' this time. With Lad, there was always a component part of beloved, and friendship ; we 'd grown up together, after all. By comparison, this was about nothing other than getting dog-fucked, and I could n't kid myself. New Dog ca n't possibly have known how much Lad had shot into me, but it was still easy to reckon that he was trying not to be outdone, and given the size of him, each throbbing and pip-squeak made itself felt.

Unlike Lad, New Dog was not in a rush when he pulled out. I wish I could have seen the blowup 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 single lick more, and I pushed him gently away. Lad, having spotted the opening, 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 prison term in the silence starlight. I do n't remember falling asleep, but I remember waking up at about 3:00 to the auditory sensation of Lad whining in my ear. His cock 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 full of dog, and eventually got up as usual about half an hour before sunrise.

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

--

spirit 's going to get eldritch soon, as if it were n't already. Lad and I have had a lot of playtime together, and we 've both make older. 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 days, but he also thinks that a female child 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 consider Ag, but would Laddie fare 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 sleep together how to face the big abandon 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 metre I can have.

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