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I am Mated
By the time I was 18 I had matured into a very attractive young lady. In short, I was hot and I had a sexual imagination to match. I tried boys. They didn't do anything for me. There was something about boys that always kind of repulsed me. Their body hair, their odors, their aggressive demeanor disgusted me. I gave them a fair chance but I just could not find the interest for them that I had for the tender flesh and gentle manners of other girls.
I had several relationships with girls in my class and a small network of housewives who passed around my number. "All the Young Girls Love Violett" as the song might go. The girls and I fell in to it all very naturally. With all the confusion and awkwardness that comes at that age we couldn't really blame ourselves. They felt safe with me; I never gossiped and, after all, I was the head cheerleader and one of the prettiest and most popular girls in school, who would believe I was a lezzy. As far as they were concerned it was just experimental fun between two straight girls ("Hey, let's try something. I won't tell."). I guess it was a chance for them to do all the things they wanted to do with boys but without the fear of ruining their reputations. It was mostly necking and petting, a little pussy licking and finger fucking with the braver girls. I had some real cuties, too. Nobody ever suspected a thing, either, but it gave me such a rush to carry my secret (if they only knew!)
The ladies were a little different. They knew they were doing something wrong and that society wouldn't look the other way, yet they couldn't help themselves. I found I had a knack for sensing their interest in me and I had a real talent for seduction. They always thought they were corrupting an irresistible innocent. Some of them even thought they were in control. There was the neighbor lady ("Would you like me to rub some suntan lotion on your back, Mrs. B.?"), my mother's best friend ("No, I've never been kissed. What's it like?"), and several others ("Sandy gave you my number?... Yes, I guess you could pick me up after school."). Our times together ranged from a tumble and grind on the living room floor or heavy necking and petting in the back seat surrounded by groceries to detailed lessons in the subtle nuances of cunnilingus after a luxurious bubble bath.
It was in my senior year that I was mostly seeing a sweet, pixie-ish, little gymnastics jockette, my Laurie-lovey. She had a tight, compact body that was just adorable and a tongue I could not believe. I was a cheerleader on the basketball squad then and she liked to sit in the front row and watch me jump around. She would get all turned on watching my butt jiggle under my short skirt. Afterwards, she would take me to her house where her parents didn't pay any attention to her comings and goings. I remember the soft music she put on to cover our sounds and the sparse streetlight from the window as we immersed ourselves in each other for hours, like a coma of lust.
It was one typical such night we were coming home from a basketball game and we had a big weekend planned. My folks were out of town and we had the whole house to ourselves. I was really worked up for the hot, carefree, no-holds-barred lovemaking that we had anticipated for two weeks. For some reason she had decided to play hard to get all of a sudden. She was petulant, distant and argumentative all evening. It of course led to a big fight with her dropping me at home and tearing off.
I was so frustrated, to be so horny and then deprived at the last minute. I paced around the house for a while and wrote her an angry letter that I never intended to send. I needed to calm down so I drew a hot bath. It calmed me down but I was still too horny to sleep. I decided to masturbate away my frustrations. I took a couple of big throw pillows up to my room and made a place to recline against in the corner. I sat back against the cushions, spread my knees wide and set to work on my gig with my slow, relaxing, two-handed attack, so I could pretend I was being treated to the supplicant devotions of a doting lover.
I was climbing up to a nice pre-orgasmic glow when Max, my short, lean bulldog trotted in to the room. I let Max assist me on many a masturbation session and, when he felt like it, join in for a rub-off of his own but that night I really didn't want the company. He walked right up between my legs to investigate what I was up to.
Usually I laid face down to twiddle myself and if Max wanted to participate he would lick my puss from behind and mount me to fuck his slippery, red dick against my butt. Sometimes I liked to jerk him off. I would reach under him and stoke his penis through his sheath to get him motivated into humping. He would hump against my hands, his dick would come out all the way past his knot, he would swell up and then start squirting his cum. I liked to play with his cock and stroke it, just watching in amazement while he came in my hands. On many occasions I had reclined like I was then and tried to get Max to fuck me. I would let him lick me for a while, as he was always perfectly happy to do, and then pull him up on to me against my crotch. Once I got him to start humping while holding him on my lap. I had his front paws on my hips and his hood poised over my cunt. His dick emerged but I couldn't get him aimed in to my cunny and he quickly lost interest. He just never got the idea of humping me unless I was on my stomach.
The last thing I wanted that night was more frustration so trying anything with Max was remote from my mind. Nonetheless, he saw the game and wanted to play. He stepped right up and started licking at my moist, pouting pussy around my busy fingers. There would be no stopping him short of carrying him out of the room and closing the door. Too much trouble. I was close to the edge so I just let him take over.
He dug his face in and pushed his deft, delightful tongue as deep as he could into me to get at the juices he sought. I laid back, closed my eyes, licked my fingers and waited for my deliverance. Max started to press forward with his body, crowding up toward my crotch as he lapped at my spread lips. Having shared many a session with Max when he would climb up on my butt for a dry hump (or rather, wet hump) in my ass cleavage, I knew this move was a precursor to mounting me. Could it be after all my coaching, offering and poising he was finally going to grasp the idea and attempt entry?
My hopes were cresting higher than ever as I twiddled my clit even faster. Then with all sureness and determination that he knew what he was doing, he mounted me. He jumped up and with his front paws he clutched at my hips and started humping aggressively. He was completely off center and way too high. His hips bucked at my thigh and I could see his firm, pink poker emerging from his sheath and sliding against the inside of my thigh. It came out about two inches, hungrily seeking the embrace of flesh. It burrowed into the softness of my skin as Max stepped over my leg with one foot and struggled for relief against my thigh. He humped for a good 30 or so strokes and his penis emerged all the way past his knot. But it just wasn't satisfying enough for him. His thrusts were desperate, lacking that blind, animal passion that overcame him when his sensitive organ found some furtive friction. His penis never even began to swell. His dick retracted, he climbed down from my leg and stood in front of my crotch with his hips still thrusting and humping thin air like a reflex he couldn't stop.
He continued licking my abandoned gig to make up for lost time. It was very promising for me; he had never associated humping me when I was not on my stomach and offering my ass. After a few more laps he pressed forward again. This time when he mounted me I lifted my thighs to contain his approach and center him on my puss. Lifting my thighs was the magic touch; the rotation of my hips exposed my vagina at just the right height and angle.
He launched into his humping immediately and to the astonishment of both of us he found my vagina on the fifth jab. I gasped and held my breath as he entered me and I focused all my concentration on our contact. I was absolutely astounded. I could not believe what I was witnessing. In all my depraved desires, I never thought it could really happen, but there it was right in front of me. This was it! We were finally actually making it! A real fuck, sexual intercourse, sweet coitus!
At first I felt that bare, finger-like penis imbedded intractably in the mouth of my cunny and I knew we were set. Once he struck pay dirt, nature took over with all his effort bent resolutely to the task of mating. His chest and his chin pressed down hard against my stomach and his paws clamped around my waist. With a firm grip he pulled his hind legs tight against my butt to complete his embrace. His hips went into an all out, spastic torrent; so urgent was his intent of meshing his genitals into mine.
I could not tell if his penis pushed itself out from his sheath or if incidental contact with my vulva pushed back his sheath, inside me I could feel his emerging penis' presence full four inches deep. He was in full attack with his typical, fit-like humping and his hips slamming back and fourth against my crotch about two inches, sending his penile intrusion in a comparable travel deep in my no-man's land. His grip was so tight and his humping so aggressive that his feet came off the floor and scratch and dug at my ass.
With the entrance of a non-human penis into my vagina, I had passed over the seldom-crossed boundary of sexual aberration that society had cursed since the dawn of history. I was transformed into the base mate of a beast. I sat frozen, eyes wide, mouth open, hunched over the scene before me, watching in disbelief. I was absolutely loving it. My first orgasm hit me at about the same instant he went into his fury. I was so engrossed in what I was experiencing that it passed like a minor distraction of little significance.
I could feel him moving in me. First I felt that rigid stem violently, urgently seeking my depths, charging toward my uterus. I could feel his penis contours undulating and rolling along my inner contours of my sex canal. Most noticeably, I felt that round bulb of his knot sliding well within the entrance of my vagina and pressing against the most sensitive region of my hole. He was growing too. I could feel his narrow appendage swelling to a rubbery, pliable firmness. The dart-like protrusion that had stabbed itself to a secure depth grew out to a 6-inch lance. Swelling outward to fill my passage and swelling longer to tease my sensitive cervix. His penis swelled to conform to my contours as my vagina contracted to conform to his. Most distinct was the swelling of his knot. It was expanding to make a snug seal between his tool and my receptor, an anchor to hold him in place and keep me immobile.
My mind was soon lapsing into that delirious condition of complete absorption by my passion. It was by no means the epic joining of romantic legend but I don't think I could have distinguished the difference. I was in utter rapture at the unbelievable encounter I was engaging in, the extreme outrageousness of this most taboo of all taboo acts filled my consciousness. I started hyperventilating and climaxes were hitting me like a gang of muggers. They weren't wimpy, tea garden orgasms either; they were blitzkrieg orgasms that came with a head rush that nearly made me faint. I would emerge from one orgasm only long enough to take inventory of my senses before the next one landed.
My eyes would see the small furry beast between my thighs, clamped to my crotch as though clinging to life while frantically beating against me. I would feel that delightful penis deep in me, savagely churning in my most personal recesses. I would then think about what we were engaging in.
There we were, cock in cunt, pink flesh against pink flesh, doing with more than great ease what cock and cunt should do for each other. Deep beneath where his short, bristly dog hair was pressed against my coarse, curly pubic hairs our most intimate parts were dancing a tango in dark, clingy seclusion.
I didn't know how long we had gone but between climaxes I noticed Max slowing down his fuck. The hard grimace on his face melted into a wide mouthed pant. His grip loosened and he relaxed as he drooled on my stomach. When his hips became still I concentrated on my vagina and I could feel a fluid welling of pressure that slopped around at the end of my vagina, up against my uterus. It felt like a slow, warm douche. He was climaxing! His penis was trickling and squirting and dripping his sperm in me. He was completing his nature-given duty by depositing his seed in his bitch. I reveled in the culmination of our mating. He was usually passive during his ejaculation, holding his haunches firmly against me, occasionally licking his chops, moving only when he got restless, enjoying his dick while his prostate did all the work. I, however, wanted a little more.
I slipped my hand underneath him and slid two fingers around my clitoris. With my other hand I reached around Max's legs and gently probed around our union. I felt my blood-gorged and swollen labia. I followed the folds inward and touched upon his sheath all bunched up against my lips. Probing further I felt where his shaft came out of the sheath to where it was buried in my vagina. I followed it up to his knot stuck tightly in the mouth of my hole. I could feel the wetness of some of his sperm seeping out from around the knot and running down my crotch. I rolled my hips around to help undulate his slippery red tool around in my vagina. I had discovered some time ago that even after he was spent, if I could gently grasp his penis at its base, through the sheath, I could get him to keep humping. He did. With his renewed humping and my clit frigging I brought another orgasm within range. His thrusting was sloshing around that pool of sperm he left in me and I came again. I let Max rest while I continued to work my clit.
When he stirred again it was to let go of my hips and plant both of his forelegs to my side. He tried to climb over with his hind legs but his penis was stuck in me and all he could do was throw one leg over my belly, we were locked together until his mating was complete. I lowered my thigh and rolled slightly on to my side to accommodate him. He stood like that whining for a while as my cunny continued to chew on his root. The swelling eventually went down enough he could pull free and with a loud, slurpy sucking sound my vagina let go of him. He drug his soggy, bloated, ravaged appendage over my hip and staggered away to tend to it. With a gush, all that fluid he left in me spilled out to puddle on the floor. A vagina's reward for successfully entertaining a penis.
I raked my fingers over it as it issued to rub its sticky wetness all over my sex. I plunged two fingers in as deep as they would go and frigged at myself like I was possessed. Max licked himself until his penis retracted and then cleaned off the whole area before he came back between my legs to check on the damages he inflicted. I pulled my hands away in invitation and he stepped forward and began to clean me up.
Instinct makes dogs very thorough when it comes to mating. Within a minute or two he jumped up on me for another mount. His hood protruded more and hung down lower, which helped his aim considerably. He had worked out all the bugs this time; his penis slipped straight in on the first stroke. As quick as that he was in full attack mode and my vagina was being treated to another round of that penis' sweet comfort.
This time I hooked my hands under my knees, pulled them back toward my shoulders and laid back to help him get good and deep. I encircled his bucking hips with my feet and wrapped my hands around his shoulders to make our embrace complete. If at all possible his penis seemed to be bigger the second time. As it churned back and forth in me it felt like they fit so well together (we were both amply satisfied anyway). His humping was more furious and aggressive the second time as he grunted and growled. I was in every sense getting ravaged by a real animal. I could hear the obscene slapping sound of his haunches and balls against my crotch echoing through the room and my chain of orgasms started again right where they left off. They weren't just triggered from the physical sensations of our coupling but from the psychological realization of what we were engaged in as well.
Vagina and penis were united in form and function the way nature had intended them to unite but in a union nature had never designed. Vagina, freely offered, received and stimulated its penile guest. Induced by the amply suited vagina's offering the penis issued forth its sperm to its host. Duly prompted, the cervix greedily drank from the copious fund of pooled semen deposited by the penis into a waiting uterus. All of this so that dutiful but bewildered dog sperm could seek out and vainly attempt to penetrate a stubbornly restrictive human ovum. Nonetheless, my vagina was making good use of this perverse twist of the laws of nature providing ample haven for its canine intruder while extracting pleasure from the penis' presence. I felt like a pioneer, riding my body into a strange uncharted extreme of my sexuality.
As he approached his crisis, he pressed his hips against me as tight as he could and his hind feet left the floor to dig and scratch around my butt. Again he tensed and fell into a stillness as he whined and dribbled another load of his ejaculate in me. Again my puss drank everything his cock spat into me. Again he pulled his swollen tool out of me and drug it away to tend to it and prepare it for another use as I resumed my work in his absence.
We copulated a total of five times that night. For the fifth one, I laid on my stomach, lifted my butt to the right height, spread wide, and let him have me "doggy-style". He seemed to like that better, it was more natural for him (did I just say natural?). He had a better angle of attack, fewer obstructions and my ass gave him a better perch to hang on to. As for me, he lasted longer and got in me a lot deeper and it allowed me room for plenty of self-help. When he was finished he just collapsed and drooped over my butt while he came. He seemed content to just relax and rest on my tush. His doggy cock wasn't relaxed, though. He was still hard and his knot held him in place for quite a while. I fingered myself frantically through a long string of climaxes while he leisurely enjoyed my cunt. We had, by the conclusion of the evening, I believe, perfected our relations.
After that I was so weak and unsteady I had to crawl into the bathroom to take a shower. I slept like a rock with Max curled up at my feet. The next morning Laurie was at my door with apologies and kisses. We had our romantic weekend and it was beautiful. Of course I had to keep Max away, she would have freaked at something like that. She did ask about the scratches on my hips and butt, which was hard to explain. Max could have me later. What more can I say, dogs, like girls, have been a regular part of my life ever since.
To be continued...