Her long-lashed blue eyes fluttered open and fought to rejoin her pretty blonde head. Strange odors, more musky than anything else, wafted through her nostrils, causing her brow to wrinkle slightly as though deep in concentrated thought. Her tongue circled her lips, catching a slight pungency of sticky moisture.
She looked down and could see the twin peaks of her irregularly heaving breasts lying in wide-set unrest between her eyes and the rest of her well-proportioned young body. Her legs were spread far apart as if in invitation to some phantom lover standing at the foot of the bed.
Had it been real, that starkly vivid dream – a dream of something so immoral that she could now barely let herself even think of it?
The vividness of it flickered across her sex-debauched mind, though, as if she were watching a slightly out-of-focus television screen. Her body ached terribly. There, in her vision, was her beloved German shepherd Brute, big and powerful and shaggy, his muscular haunches working furiously over her as he committed an act so obscene that one scarcely dared give it a name. That she had had dreams and thoughts about her father was one thing – he was after all a man, a human being. But to have a dream like that about Brute was a scandal too severe to be faced for longer than a single instant. If she ever considered fornicating with her father, it was a crime against the family and their community that would probably never be achieved anyway; but to think of having sex with Brute was a crime against God Himself.
Or was it? She rubbed her thighs smoothly together and sighed. She felt so deliciously relaxed. Whatever had happened to her in her marvelous dream, it had certainly been heavenly. Carefully, caressingly, June smoothed her hands around over her sensitive young breasts, touching them guardedly in gentle exploration. Ooooh, she moaned, they were tender. She squeezed them and gave a little gasp of delight as her taut pink nipples oozed up between her spread-open fingers, towering lewdly above the milk-white mounds.
Her hands explored further, coursing their way down over her fluttering stomach to her still open thighs. She groaned again as her fingers tenderly touched the slight bruises lining the soft wet edges of her vagina. What had made that?
Surely not Brute's penis, as in her fantastic dream? But it had felt so smoothly satisfying in the dream, not brutal at all as she'd expected a penis to feel.
Her fingers probed carefully around the tiny sensitive opening to her vagina, becoming moist from the warm sticky liquid that oozed viscously from it, wetting the split of her buttocks and the bed beneath.
Something had happened. She wouldn't have had all that wetness around the edges of her cunt otherwise.
And then she saw him! Curled up in a ball on the rug by the foot of her bed.
And something in his deep brown eyes was so fraught with longing and adoration of her that she couldn't deny him!
"Brute – oh darling… then it really did happen… I remember now… I remember everything… darling… oh, Brute… what shall we do?"
The twelve year old ex-virgin looked down at her pet's wistful brown eyes, resting so thoughtfully within that handsome canine face, which in turn lay so sadly on his forepaws before him. What was he thinking? Had she been good for him? Did he really love her? Her pussy began to itch. Would he want to do it again? All these thoughts broke headlong through the young girl's mind with a maximum of confusion. But from all of it emerged a single, all-important consideration – and that was that Brute had been better for her than any other single experience or combination of experiences she had ever enjoyed. His mind-fusing penis twisting and slipping inside of her vagina had been purest, shattering ecstasy. His long thick tongue on her breasts and lapping wetly up the flanges of her burning young cunt had been an experience well worth dying for.
And was it so wrong? Hadn't he saved her from hideous cousin Ronald, who would have merely used her and cast her aside? No, Brute's devotion was more true than any human male's could have been, that was for certain. He didn't want merely her flesh – he worshipped her. With them it was love, not mere sex as it would have been with Ronald in the park. She realized now that she had loved Brute ever since he was a darling little puppy. Just because they were now going to have sex mingled with everything as well didn't change anything between them.
"Come up here, darling," she murmured sweetly, her pale young face glowing, cheeks all rosy with good health, relaxation and sexual happiness. She patted the bed beside her, her eyes dilating slightly with desire. He would come up onto the bed, she knew he would.
And he did. With one powerful leap from the middle of the floor, the big German shepherd was suddenly on the bed with her and licking at her earlobes affectionately as she giggled and grabbed his ears, rolling about beneath the smooth, evanescent flickering touches of her furry coat against her overheated milky skin. She wiggled upward and rubbed her soft resilient breasts against his shining coat. His tongue licked her face and she licked it back in an affectionate French kiss, trying briefly to take it into her mouth so that she could suck on it. Her hands came up on his buttocks as they played, and suddenly – glancing down – she saw that he had become aroused again, for the pink tapered end of his penis was now peering quietly from its furry covering, a glistening wet drop of animal semen showing at the tiny slit in its tip.
Suddenly her nostrils flared and her breathing began coming more hotly.
Her eyes fixed as if hypnotized upon that slowly protruding member that was emerging from between his stiffly waiting legs. As they played, she occasionally lost sight of it, but not for long, and now something very strange and obscenely lascivious came slowly to dominate her sex- drugged mind.
That was Brute's penis, she thought, the one that had loved her. It looked small and quiet now, scarcely peeping through at all from the soft furred sheath which contained it. Yet when he had pushed it into her body, it had been so hard and long and thick. It had filled her up, pushing out the walls of her hot young vagina with an inexorable pressure that eventually became excruciating, agonizingly delightful, and which finally sent her spinning rapturously off into space, a sex- drenched slave to his love.
And suddenly she wanted it – yes, wanted it in her mouth…
But no, that was disgusting. How could she bear it? It had fucked her, but that was something else again. Her mouth was a different thing from her cunt. She might throw up if he shot some of that sticky stuff from his penis, whatever it was, down her open and swallowing throat.
Swallowing… could she make herself swallow it? What did it taste like?
All of a sudden a compelling curiosity consumed the musing blonde.
Brute's cum, she thought. What did it taste like? Would it be the same as a human's? Say, the same as her father's, for example? What would be the exact differences in measurement and feel between their two cocks? What would be the difference between them if she had them both in her mouth, say, at the very same time?
June could feel a gush of warm liquid exploding outward and downward from her loins. She had a tremendous, overwhelming urge to suck on Brute's penis and find out just what his cum tasted like that it could make her feel so joyous and happy inside.
And after all, she told herself, her mind working computer-like to rationalize away all feeling of guilt, he had licked her pussy in order to satisfy her. It was only fair that she return this most ultimate of devotions.
She smiled as Brute continued to lick her face wetly, occasionally probing with his warm, moist tongue into her ears or down over her large and panting young breasts. Tentatively, her hand reached out, cupping his small, trembling testicles in the cool affection of her grasp. The dog gasped and began panting more slavishly, licking her face wetly all over at a frantically increased rate.