And the aching young adolescent probably would have lain there for a long time, too, if she hadn't felt the cold nose on her shoulder…
"Brute! Why…"
June sat up on the bed. Before her stood the family German shepherd, his tail wagging with happiness to see her, his canine face open in a cheerful smile – except where his teeth were holding onto the leather strap that was wrapped around her school books.
"Brute! Why, you darling! You brought my school books home from the park for me. I completely forgot about them, darling."
She took his face in her hands and accepted an affectionate lick from his lengthy pink tongue. Giggling, she closed her eyes as he washed her face with it. "Oh, Brute!" she laughed gaily.
Jumping up to put his forepaws on the bed, the big dog lapped at his young mistress' milk-white thighs as well. June was still fresh from the most ennervating, debilitating feelings of desire, and the feel of Brute's roughly-skinned but gentle tongue on her sensitive leg heightened slightly the discomforting flutter in her loins. But she was not alarmed. She bent down to pick up the books from where the dog had dropped them.
Only to have Brute take a long, swiping lick at her nakedly dangling breasts!
Alarmed now, she drew back swiftly. "Brute! Darling, whatever's come over you?" Instinctively, she drew the thin cotton coverlet up over her vulnerable breasts. Brute's hot wet tongue had started them burning again, and now they felt as if they were expanding in all directions, fairly bursting with licentious energy.
But did she have any right to blame that on the dog? Why, darling Brute loved her! He would never do anything intentionally to make her uncomfortable!
Of course not. How silly of her. She let the coverlet drop again, revealing the rounded firmness of her panting young breasts with their high, hardened nipples. It was silly to behave as if Brute were a human male. He just didn't know what he was doing. When he licked at her breasts he was just trying to show his affection and friendliness. Darling Brute could never mean any harm.
"Come here, sweetheart," she said affectionately, and the dog moved closer. Taking his great head in her arms, June cradled his happy face so that his tongue lolled out wetly along her forearm and his big brown eyes looked up at her full of ecstatic delight that he was in his beautiful young blonde mistress' arms.
She stroked the sleek furry crown of his head and kissed him, murmuring, "June's sorry, Brute. You forgive her, don't you?"
His big brown eyes spoke volumes of affection, and he tried to lick her face again.
"You saved June in the park, didn't you, darling? June wants to know how she appreciates that. But at the same time I'm a very unhappy girl. Sit down on the floor and I'll explain it to you."
Brute, being very well trained, padded off to the center of the bedroom floor and circled the carpet briefly before he settled in a circular furry heap, looking across the bedroom at her affectionately.
June sighed and lay back on the bed totally naked, squeezing her aching breasts briefly and then spreading her long blonde hair out in back of her on the pillow like a fan. Maybe talking to Brute would help, she thought. He always had such an understanding look in his sorrowful-but-sexy eyes.
Had she thought that? But it was absurd to regard Brute's eyes as sexy – they could only be that to another dog. Anyway, he was someone to talk to.
"My hero," she smiled, remembering how he had saved her from her cousin Ronald's obscene fingering inside her love-hungry pussy lips. He had really come to her rescue, just like knights of old in the storybooks rescuing a damsel in distress.
She looked across the room at him, sitting there in the center of the room. Brute, who always understood her and was a friend of great depth and warmth to the entire family. Seated as she had ordered him to, his pointed ears slightly devilish in character, his strongly masculine snout underlining a handsome, intelligent face of considerable character. His long red tongue was hanging out, panting with urgency, wet with his saliva. She looked into his lovely, soulful eyes. What did they see, when they looked at her? Her newly ripened breasts, her long blonde hair? Or what? His mistress, whom he adored. Who wouldn't be flattered to be so worshipped?
June sighed. It was nice having Brute here with her. With one hand she cupped her swollen right breast, looking down at the rosy aureole around its passion-puckered peak and the tiny stiffened nipple in the center. It was nice when Brute lapped at her breast, she had to admit it. No one had ever done that before. It was almost as if that was what they had been waiting for – to be kissed, fondled, squeezed, perhaps even hurt.
The twelve year old coquette looked at Brute again and smiled. "You do love me, don't you, darling? I know you do. Daddy's never licked at my breast like that, or even seen me naked, darling. Yet I think of him all the time. Why can't he love me as I love him, Brute? Is it so terribly wrong? Why can't Daddy see how I love him and love me, too?"
Brute made a little sound of understanding and rested his head on his legs looking at her all the while.
She ran her fingers down into her tremulous young pussy in another futile attempt to dispel the terrible ache there. "See how I put my fingers in my pussy, Brute? Sometimes I stick them inside of me and make myself cum, with them, thinking of Daddy. That drives me wild, only lately it hasn't been as good as it used to be." She lifted one leg and let two fingers slip in and out of her well-lubricated young cunt. Her eyes became heavy-lidded and her nostrils flared momentarily.
"Why can't I make it like that anymore, Brute? Why can't I cum anymore on my fingers? It always used to work thinking of Daddy. Now its getting harder and harder. I used to think of his great big cock – that's what I said, cock. That's a naughty word – his great big cock sliding in and out of my cunt and fucking me, and that drove me wild!"
She giggled and put her hand up to her mouth. It was strangely exciting talking dirty like this in front of Brute, but safe too, since he couldn't understand any of this anyway. And even if he did, he wouldn't be able to spread stories about what she'd said and ruin her reputation as a nice girl Brute was the perfectly discreet individual. He could never tell.
The twelve year old blonde looked at her pet again, her dully-lidded eyes narrowing. Just how much did he understand? Was she talking too much?
No, that was silly. Brute was her best friend; he was everybody in the house's best friend. He was affectionate, kind and loving, and he would never do anything to hurt her. He'd never dream of it.
June sighed with increasing sensuality, wiggling her fingers just inside the sensitively tingling mouth of her seeping vagina. It was very pleasant to just lie here, playing idly with herself, with understanding old Brute to talk to. She went on, "He never comes to me, Brute. Daddy never comes to me. If he did, I'd probably do anything he wanted me to, but he never even bothers. I'll bet he doesn't even like me. I tried to sit on his lap the other day, and he knocked me right off. What do you think of that?"
Brute growled understandingly.
"God," she breathed, squeezing her hotly throbbing breasts, "if only I could do something – anything I'm burning up, Brute, and I can't seem to get any satisfaction. I'm miserable all the time."