Old Blue began to howl with glee when her talented cunt hole began to really suck on his cock. He whipped his cockmeat into her with long, underslung fuck-strokes, his balls swinging like helium-filled balloons. His prick expanded inside her pussy and Michelle knew he was going to blow his cum-load at any moment. She jerked her pelvis, changing the angle of penetration, so that every inch of his long, iron-hard cockshaft was rubbing across her fiery clit as it fucked in and pulled out. She was ready to cream but holding back, waiting to feel the dog's fuck-juice splash into her cunt before she let herself go.
Her face was twisted into a mask of pure lust, eyes narrowed, lips slack and trembling. Her eyelashes fluttered. The tip of her tongue slid across her open mouth. The dog-loving woman was in paradise.
"Come," she moaned. "Shoot up my cunt hole, you dumb son of a bitch!"
Old Blue was an obedient dog.
He howled like a wolf and his massive balls burst. The hot, thick jism came rushing up through his cockshaft and spurted from his pisshole in a creamy deluge, hosing Michelle's pussy with a steaming load of dog cum.
She wailed with the joy of it. The dog's cum felt as hot and as thick as melted lead as it poured into her steaming pussy. Her cunt began to melt on his prick like a wax candle on a flaming wick.
Old Blue fucked steadily away, pumping more cum into her with every thrust. Michelle was jerking under him, her ass and hips dancing in a wild horizontal waltz as the waves of her coming swept through her. Those sweeping waves came higher and faster together, until they were blending into one sustained crest, tearing her loins apart.
It seemed as if the hound was never going to stop pouring the fuck-juice into her.
His balls seemed bottomless, his spunk endless. The sweet cum was spraying from his pisshole in a slimy rope, an unbroken cable of creamy fuck-juice that began in his balls and uncoiled with a splash in her pussy.
Old Blue yelped and lost the beat. His heaving haunches faltered and his fuck-thrusts began to fade in erratic fashion. He missed a stroke, fed her two quick ones, then missed another. His balls were hanging down now, like empty wineskins, drained into her. Instead of thudding against her upturned ass, they were flopping.
His cock was still rampant and he kept on fucking it into her, but all of his cum-load had been spent. Panting and slobbering, he slowed down.
Michelle continued to fuck her pussy onto his prick, working off the last spasms of her coming, milking out the last pearly drops. When Old Blue ground to a full stop, she jammed her fuckhole down to the hilt of his immobile prick and made her cunt muscles pulse around the load, milking the last nugget of cum from his cockhead and ripping a last sweet tingle from her clit.
She flopped back onto the bunk, arms and legs spread-eagled, as if crucified by her coming. Her eyes fluttered and she smiled with dreamy satisfaction.
The dog slowly pulled his spent cock out of her pussy. Her cuntlips collared his cockstalk just behind the naked knob, sucking on him and holding his cockmeat in her fuck-slot for a last lingering moment.
Then she released him. His slimy red cockhead popped out of her cunt like a cork from a bottle. The dog whined and hopped down from the bed. His prick was bobbing up and down under him, still semi-stiff although his balls had totally collapsed.
His prick hung down toward the floor like a divining rod seeking moisture. Cum and cunt juice dripped from the pointed cocktip onto the floorboards. Then his prick snapped back upright again.
Gazing wistfully at him, Michelle smiled. She knew damned well that a little sucking would bring that formidable prick right back to a booming hard-on.
Then she glanced across the room towards Buck, and saw that his cock, recently drained, was showing promising signs of renewed vigor.
She wished that she had time to fuck both of these horny hounds again.
But then the last blow of the ax sounded, followed by a silence from outside, and Michelle resigned herself to having to wait for her next doggy-fuck.
She slid from the bunk and pulled a bathrobe around her naked, shapely body to hide the creamy evidence of her naughty pleasures. Thick ribbons of canine cum, streaked with the pearly strands of her pussy juice, had lathered her crotch and soaked down the inside of her thighs. She drew the flaps of the bathrobe around herself to hide that suspicious overflow. She felt as if her body were glowing inside the flannel robe. When she moved, she thought that she could hear the dog cum sloshing around inside her belly.
Shit, she thought. Those fucking hounds must have poured it into me by the bucketful. If dog cum was lighter than air, I'd float right up to the rafters!
Then, composing her lovely face into a modest and demure expression, she waited for her husband to return from the woodpile. Michelle was feeling generous.
She might even give the man a fuck today…
Behind the cabin, Dick Warden lowered the head of the ax to the ground and leaned against it. Wood was scattered all around the chopping block. The energetic man had chopped more than they needed.
He'd heard Old Blue howl.
Sounds like my wife is at the dogs again, he'd thought, shaking his head. But then he had smiled. Dick was well aware of the fact that his wife was a dog-fucker, and it didn't trouble him at all.
But it made him awfully horny.
He stood there for a few minutes, giving Michelle and the dog plenty of time to get uncoupled.
He was a tall, lean woodsman with piercing gray eyes – and a huge prick. That prick was hammering wildly in his jeans now, as hard as the ax in his hand. He figured that he could have chopped wood with a hard-on like that.
But he had a better use for his hard-on. Dick left the ax leaning against the chopping block and headed for the cabin…
CHAPTER TWO
Dick Warden worked for the conservation department as a game warden and fire watcher, and he and his wife lived year around in the rustic cabin. It suited Dick because he was a woodsman who hated the social life of the city, and it suited Michelle since she had plenty of opportunities to fuck the hounds while Dick was working. Had they lived in the city, she would probably have fucked lots of men, being promiscuous by her nature, but she preferred dog cock. And besides, she had convinced herself that by fucking animals she wasn't actually committing adultery or cheating on her husband, whom she loved, in her own peculiar fashion – mainly because he had a whopper of a cock and balls to match.
Besides, bestiality was frowned on in urban areas and Michelle deeply appreciated the privacy of the mountain cabin, where there was no one around to hear the loud, howling fucks she so greatly cherished.
She had no idea that Dick was well aware of her naughty inclinations, knowing full well that his wife was a dog-fucker – and not minding, at all. If anything, he approved. But Michelle believed that she had always been most discreet, and that no one would ever know about it.
One thing was certain. The dogs weren't going to tell.
The Warden's cabin was isolated at the end of a rough, rutted track that only a four-wheel-drive vehicle could manage to negotiate – and only then when the weather permitted such traffic at certain times of the year.
But the place wasn't totally isolated, and for a few weeks a year they had neighbors. Just down that broken trail there was another newer and far more well appointed cabin, which the Richards', a well-to-do family, used for their summer vacations. City folk, they welcomed the chance to get back to nature for a while – although they brought frozen foods and portable TVs and such things with them while believing that they were roughing it and suffering hardships.