"Oh," the horror-struck Harold Cubbings cried out in dismay.
Lenny, however, remained calmer. As the beast descended on her with flashing red eyes full of lust, she managed to note this incident down in her memory. Obviously, Cubbings' weaknesses were deeper than she had hitherto expected.
The canine brute leapt onto Lenny with a force that almost knocked her over backwards in the overstuffed chair. He began to lap her exuberantly about the face and breasts.
"Hey!" she protested, "Bad doggie!"
His lappings were so energetic; in fact, that in a matter of mere seconds he had loosened the blouse front sufficiently that three buttons popped off in a minor artillery burst. This accident permitted an unhaltered breast to slip freely into the open air.
It might have been ego… but Lenny thought that the dog paused in his clumsy advances for a second – as though awed by the sight of such a flawless and well-endowed bosom.
However, he took little if any respite from his exercise. He began instantly to slurp loudly at her nipple.
"Uh, hey!" she was finding it harder to protest now.
The dog managed to work his muzzle in under what was left of her blouse and lap at the other lovely, white boob until it too sprang free of all encumbrances.
"Listen, hey, fella, bad dog!" Lenny's protests were becoming weak gasps. Something in the roughness of the canine tongue excited her. Her nipples froze into passionate rigidity. She could feel her breasts stiffening and becoming tense objects of sensual delight.
"Listen doggy," she tried once more to fend off his attack. This time she succeeded in pushing him off from her chest and down to the floor. But the Great Dane answered by lunging up under her suit-skirt this time. His tongue worked lustily at the naked orifice that he found there.
"So, yes, good doggie! Good boy! More!"
Lenny was quite out of control by this time.
Harold Cubbings, who had at first reached into his desk drawer for the revolver he always kept there, now stared in disbelief at the scene unfolding before his very eyes. His favorite pet, kindly old Horatio, was raping Miss Morgan! Worse still, Cubbings thought desperately, Horatio had chosen to rape the unfortunate Miss Morgan right here in the offices of Xylotropic Industries Incorporated!
"This," Cubbings admonished his dog from behind the safety of the desk, "this is truly outrageous!"
Horatio, dreaming nothing of other philosophies, proceeded with his attack, quite cheerfully, punctuating his probings and sniffings with exemplary wags of his huge tail.
"Bastard!" Lenny cried.
"Oh! Oh! Miss Morgan," the befuddled Cubbings stood behind his desk, struggling and twitching in a helpless fit of cowardice. "Miss Morgan, I am simply mortified!"
"Screw! Screw! Screw!" Lenny cried. With a deep breath and a set to his jaw, the terrified Harold Cubbings made a step forward, intending to break up the disgusting activities and rescue the attractive Miss Morgan.
He stopped suddenly in his tracks. His mouth dropped open, permitting a drop of saliva to drool down the corner of his lips.
Harold Cubbings could not believe his eyes!
Lenny had reached down and grabbed the animal by the haunches, and with a terrific wrenching motion, she managed to pull the animal up between her legs. This enabled him to hump his long, red, steaming prick up into her open cunt.
Lenny, in a distant land of delight now, thanked her lucky stars that she had remembered to wear her long suit and neglected to wear any panties. It had been her considered opinion that the situation at Xylotropic Industries Incorporated was such that she might expect to be called upon for "auditions" at any time.
One would have to assume that Horatio was also quite pleased with Lenny's decision in regard to her undergarment.
"Bastard mutt!" Lenny roared angrily, "When I say screw, I mean screw!"
As though he understood her shouted words, the Great Dane drove his red cock into her at a redoubled rate. His mouth hung open in exertion. His red eyes rolled crazily in their sockets.
Finally, with a cry of agonized pleasure, Horatio shot a load of doggie-spend up into the soft warmth of Lenny's snatch.
"Wow! Yummy! Yummy!" Lenny stretched and squirmed against the dog, but he was through.
Like any dog when through servicing a bitch, Horatio bounded down from the mount and dropped his carcass comfortably onto a plush carpet.
In that position, the Great Dane fell instantaneously and contentedly asleep.
By this time, the prim and sophisticated Harold Cubbings was having a heart attack. His chest heaved mightily and there was an aching growth in his crotch. He was immensely excited by the scene that had just transpired between Horatio and Lenny.
So excited, that he felt an extremely urgent need to get into the act.
"Fucking dogs!" Lenny was grumbling menacingly as she groped with her fingers beneath the hem of her tweed suit. "They never finish what they begin, dumb animals!"
"Miss Morgan," Cubbings ground out the syllables of her name, despite his extreme emotional upset. "Miss Morgan, I'm terribly sorry if the dog has done something to upset you."
Lenny looked around herself furtively, she heard a voice through the fog of passion, but she couldn't quite place it, whose voice was that? Where was it coming from?
"I can assure you that I'll pay for any damages, Miss Morgan, by that I mean, well, we don't generally like to see our employees treated like animals – uh, no – that's not quite what I mean."
"Aha!" Lenny screeched with gloating wrath. "Cubbings! So, it's you, is it? Come here you old fart!"
Cubbings stared at her blankly, of course.
After all, there was the other night. That was quite a friendly experience and this woman could not have forgotten that so soon. On the other hand, he reckoned grimly, she was a rather violent and emotional woman. There was something exceptionally dirty and degrading about being pumped by a dog – if she was that unstable, mightn't she kill him in vengeance?
"Please, Miss Morgan," he whined pitifully, "don't hurt me, I didn't have anything to do with this. It was my dog! If you have to hurt someone, Miss Morgan, please, hurt the dog. He did it! I had nothing to do with it!"
"Your bastard dog!" Lenny began fiercely, "Your bastard dog is not worth shit! He's a quitter!"
The whole business seemed entirely over Cubbings' head, he sank limply to the desk and buried his head in his hands. "Oh my, oh my," he cried.
"Cubbings!" Lenny's voice lashed his ears like a barbed whip. "Harold no good screwball Cubbings!"
In his distraught state, Cubbings had the terrifying vision that his mother was calling him.
"Cubbings you dumb eunuch! If you don't come over here and finish what your dumb-ass dog started, I'm going to go stark raving mad!"
He raised his head from his hands and stared at Lenny Morgan in disbelief. She was stretched out on the soft chair, her heels spread wide apart on the floor and her hips hunched up so that she was able to shove her entire hand into her open throbbing cunt.
In that instant of revelation, the whole thing hit him smack in the eyes like a visionary gleam. He roared with desire and ran across the floor, his trousers failing down about his ankles as he hurried to her side.
"Lenny!" he cried passionately.
Then he tripped on his trousers and fell flat on his face in front of her.
It was close enough for Lenny Morgan, her blonde hair tossed over her neck in waves, as she scooped up the crumpled form and pulled it onto her.
"I see!" Cubbings roared like a drunken preacher, "I see it all now! The Xylotrope is nothing but a big pain in the ass! What we need in the world is more filth!"
"Filth!" Lenny cried tugging his buttocks closer to her striving loins, "Hooray for filth!"