Suddenly, the young raven-haired wife stopped in mid-step. "Oh, Christy," she exclaimed, "I forgot all about Fello. He's still locked up in the kitchen, and he hasn't been fed!"
"Fello?"
"Yes, our landlady's Doberman pinscher."
"Oh. Well that's okay, honey, you run along and feed him then."
"You sure? I can wait till we're finished."
"No. You go ahead. I'm almost finished anyway."
"Sure?"
"I'm sure," the older woman answered.
"Bring him back with you, if you want. Eric and I are both fond of dogs." She paused for a moment, then added. "As a matter of fact, we have quite a few movies in our film library on dogs. When you come back, we can watch a couple, if you'd like," she concluded, her memory for a moment lingering on one particular juicy film which never failed to arouse the most prurient of thoughts in her. Then, turning to place the last piece in the dishwasher, she was mystified by the expression of surprise registered on Vicki's face. She took this reaction as one of shock, little knowing that was not what had startled the young wife.
High color spread rapidly on Vicki's face until her cheeks were flushed in glowing crimson. Self-consciously she lowered her eyes and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
"Jees, honey, I didn't mean to embarrass you," Christy said, wiping her hands on the gay print apron she had donned while doing the dishes. "I thought that after last night and out discussion at breakfast that you were more worldly."
"O-Oh, it-it's not that," Vicki answered shamefully, "It, it's…" she stammered. Then, her head drooping to her chest, she began to sob softly.
In two quick strides Christy reached the younger woman, grasp her in encircling arms and began comforting her in a soothing tone. "Now, now," she crooned, "you mustn't cry. What's the matter?"
"Oh, Christy… I'm… so mixed up. So much has happened… I just don't know what's come over me…" she sobbed.
"What is it, honey? It can't be what happened last night. You were so decided about that just a few minutes ago. What, is it, honey? You can tell Christy."
"Oh, I can't… I just can't!"
"Sure you can. Come on now. Here, dry your tears and tell me all about it. It will make you feel better to get it off your chest."
"Oh, I'm so ashamed," Vicki said, but she raised tear-streaked eyes to look into those of her comforting friend. "It was so… so dirty…" she said, then buried her head into the shoulder of the older woman.
"Now, now, it can't be that bad. Come on over to the table and sit down. Here," she said, producing a Kleenex from her apron, "dry your eyes and tell me all about it. Let me decide if it's as dirty as you seem to think it is."
"Oh, Christy," Vicki began once she had seated herself and successfully dried her eyes, "I was so lonely, and I got to thinking about Kirk, and before I knew it I was… was… playing with myself…" Suddenly she choked on her own words and fresh tears began welling in her eyes.
"You mean you're this upset because you masturbated?" Christy asked incredulously.
"NO… no," Vicki sobbed, "it wasn't just that… it was… Fello!"
"Fello? Your landlady's dog?" Both women were silent for a moment, then Christy gasped in understanding. "You… you let Fello… Oh, Jesus. Really? God, you've got to tell me about it," the older woman said breathlessly. "Jesus! Vicki, honey, you are something else! If you only knew how many times I've watched those movies and wished I was the woman in the film. Jesus! You took on a dog and… Jesus, honey. You're one up on Christy."
"NO! No, it wasn't like that," Vicki interjected quickly. "I only let him… lick me, and then he raped me!"
"Oh, shit! Honey, my panties are already wet just thinking about that dog!"
Both women were silent then for a long minute, each occupied with her own, though different, thoughts. Finally, Christy said: "Vicki, honey, let's go feed that dog. I want to see this animal for myself!"
Vicki looked at her friend questioningly, then nodded her head sheepishly but affirmatively.
By the time the two women returned to the Kaye home, Vicki's attitude about her actions with Fello the previous afternoon were markedly changed. The moment Christy Kaye saw Fello, she began to berate the young brunette for being a fool. Now, as the two women sat side-by-side on the Kaye's den sofa with the huge Doberman pinscher amiably curled at their feet, Vicki's pride rose in defense to the older woman's taunts. A verbal battle that had begun at the Young's bungalow and continued in the car was still raging strong. The upshot of this difference of opinion had led Vicki into agreeing to watch one of the Kaye's "doggy" movies. As both Kirk and Dr. Kaye were still engrossed in the Rose Bowl game, Vicki and Christy and Fello were the lone occupants of the darkened den.
For several minutes now, Vicki had been sitting quietly while Christy set up the projector. As Christy finished threading the film, she turned to Vicki and said: "Now, well see which one of us is right. Ten-to-one says you can't watch this film without your panties getting wet," she concluded challengingly.
Vicki said nothing, but the challenge was registered in her eyes as she smoothed the skirt which she had changed into at home. Damn! she thought, I don't care how well known and important Mrs. High-and-Mighty Kaye is, she won't get the best of me. As if for reassurance she reached down and petted the sleek head of the dog lying at her feet.
On the flickering screen, a sweet-faced, innocent looking young girl in her middle teens was lying naked on a huge circular bed with a bright scarlet spread, her long legs spread wide to reveal the pinkly glistening folds of her dark hair-fringed cunt to the eye of the camera. Her breasts were small and taut, with tiny ruby nipples and almost no areolae, which further added to the aura of innocence and purity that even her lewdly exposed position could not deny. Her pubic mound was covered with thin, softly curling brown hair that matched her short petite French haircut. She was simply lying on the bed in that splayed position, her eyes tightly shut and her head to one side as if she was peacefully sleeping. There was a soft, beautiful smile on her unpainted, but nonetheless, soft-looking red lips.
Suddenly, the camera left the young girl on the bed and panned to the bedroom door, which was slowly opening. Then it was pushed wide, and framed in the doorway was an auburn-haired woman some ten years older then the teenager on the bed. She, too, was naked, with large, proudly upthrust breasts and a bushy triangle of auburn-colored pubic hair that seemed to cover the entire area up between her thighs. Her lips were spread in a wide lascivious grin as she looked over at the sleeping brunette on the bed, and one of her hands began to move slowly up and down her side while the other passed lightly, tantalizingly, over the side of her full, high-set breasts.
After a moment, she turned and looked back at something in the hallway outside the bedroom. Momentarily, she made a motion with the hand which had been stroking her hip, and suddenly a huge, furry form bounded into view, coming past her to sit on the floor at her feet, just inside the bedroom. It was a dog, an impossibly huge German shepherd, and its long, wet red tongue lolled out of the side of its fanged jaws like a red tie hanging out of a suitcase that has been hastily packed. It stared up at the auburn-haired woman almost anticipatorily, its thick bushy tail wagging to and fro with excitement.