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From: dingo.jay@iname.com
Subject: {ASSM} Lovin' Pete by Dingo Jay (zoo, F/Dog)
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Date: Mon, 18 Dec 2006 00:10:04 -0500
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Zoophilia - woman/dog.   Fiction.   ***WARNING*** The following 
story contains graphic descriptions of sexual relations between 
humans and animals.  If  you are underage or are offended by such 
material, please do not read any farther.   (c) 2006 by Dingo Jay.  
May be re-posted on other FREE websites or newsgroups, complete and 
with this header.  No modifications or editing, please (except 
typos/spelling.)


-- 

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<1st attachment, "Pete (Navy Wife).txt" begin>

Lovin' Pete --A Story by Dingo Jay

   I'm a Navy wife.  My husband Stan is a lieutenant commander on a
submarine and he's gone on sea duty for months at a time.  Needless to say,
it gets pretty lonely around here at times.  About three years ago, my Dad
decided that since Stan and I don't have any kids, I ought to have a dog to
keep me company.  Since I grew up with dogs and had been around them all my
life, I liked the idea.  The next time Stan was home, we talked it over and
he said it was OK with him, as long as our landlord approved.  Well, aside
from making us come up with an extra security deposit, the landlord had no
problems with pets.

   I checked the local paper every day and visited the pounds and the
Humane Society from time to time, but none of the dogs really appealed to
me.  I wasn't looking for anything special, but if I was going to spend the
next ten or fifteen years with a dog, it was going to be one that I liked.
About the time I'd decided to wait until I came across just the right pup
by serendipity, Dad showed up one Saturday afternoon with a little black
fuzz-ball under one arm.  He grinned and held up the puppy as I opened the
front door.

   "Hi Sherry.  Look what I brung ya!"

   "Where did you get him?" I asked.

   "Somebody dumped three pups in the neighbors' front yard the other
night. They're keeping one, their friends took another, so I thought I'd
give you first dibs on this little guy."

   "Okay, let's have a look at him.  How old do you figure he is?"

   Dad held the pup at arm's length and looked him over before setting him
down on the walk.  "Nine, maybe ten weeks.  As for breed, I'd say probably
Lab-and-something."

   I wasn't all that impressed at first; he looked kind of muttley and
scruffy.  Not that I was looking for a purebred show-pup or anything, but
he was far from pretty.  The more I played with him, though, the better I
liked him.  He had a great personality and a sweet, affectionate nature
that scores a lot more points with me than looks do.

   Dad looked up at me.  "So, what do you think?  So far, I mean..."

   "Well, he's kind of ugly, but he's sweet.  I like him!"

   "So you'd like me to leave him with you?" Dad looked a bit sheepish.  I
knew he'd end up keeping the pup himself if I didn't, but he has two dogs
already.

   I thought it over for all of two seconds.  "Yeah, he can stay.  Come on,
it looks like we've got some shopping to do."

   Dad nodded.  "Right.  I'll introduce you to my vet while we're at it."

   Cora, the Vet, is a straight-laced, no-nonsense older woman.  She runs
the practice by herself, though she has several college-age girls who work
as technicians and handlers.  The only male staff member is Cora's son
Steve, a burly guy who helps out with things like lifting really big dogs.
Dad describes him as being slightly smarter than bubble wrap, but he serves
his purpose.  The whole operation impressed me enough that I made an
appointment for the following afternoon.  By the time Cora asked if the
puppy had a name, I'd decided to name him Pete for no particular reason. 
On Pete's first visit to Cora, she gave him a quick exam, several
vaccinations and some medication for a minor ear infection.  When I took
him back a few weeks later for some booster shots, she had a little time
and checked him over more thoroughly.

   "We've got a little problem here, Pete's only got one testicle," Cora
pointed out.

   "Why is that a problem?" I asked.  "I mean, he's a mixed breed and I
don't plan on using him at stud or anything."

   "Actually, he has two," Cora explained.  "One is still up inside him
somewhere instead of down in his scrotum where it belongs.  The problem is
that there's a chance the retained testicle could become cancerous in
time."

   Ugh.  The "C" word!  "Okay, what do we do now?  Neuter him?"

   "That would be the best plan," Cora said.  "He's not in immediate danger
of cancer, though, and a castration with a retained testicle is rather
complicated and expensive.  Let's wait until he's about a year old and see
if it drops down by itself."

   "All right.  We'll just have to wait and see.  I was sort of thinking of
having him fixed anyway; I want to be a responsible pet owner and all
that."

   Pete grew like a weed over the next few months.  After just a few weeks
on some decent food, he shed his raggedy puppy fuzz and replaced it with a
smooth, glossy black coat.  At about four months of age his previously
floppy ears seemed to perk up once in a while.  After a couple more months,
he began to develop a big, round head and his huge, triangular ears stood
up straight and firm.  A little, white spot that he had in the middle of
his chest became a fair sized white "diamond" that set off his glossy,
black coat nicely.  He'd come a long way from the scrawny, ugly pup he'd
been when Dad brought him to me.  He was downright handsome!  Pete's 'manly
parts' were coming along nicely as well...  he was becoming quite the
well-hung boy.  Unfortunately, though, his missing-in-action testicle had
still not appeared, but he didn't seem to mind me checking for it one bit.
My hubby Stan came home on shore leave when Pete was seven months and
couldn't believe the shiny black, Lab-sized boy with standing ears was the
same dog!

   Though Pete was perfectly house-trained in just a couple of weeks, he
had a little problem with piddling when he got excited.  He didn't make a
huge puddle or even leave a trail; he would just sprinkle a little bit when
he greeted anyone who came to the house.  Not a lot, just enough to be
annoying and embarrassing.  When I mentioned it to the Vet, she said he'd
probably grow out of it, or having him fixed might help.  He'd also begun
"showing his lipstick" a lot.  That doesn't bother me much as my family
always had male dogs when I was growing up.  Trouble is, Pete always seems
to do it in front of company.  I'll be entertaining guests and he comes in
the room and sits down in front of them.  He starts scratching at his
collar and boiiinnng...  out comes the red rocket and he's like, "Oooh,
what's that?" Lick, lick.  It's easy to spot the people who have boy dogs,
I'll tell you.  They're the ones who don't clap a hand over their mouth and
look away.  That poor Avon lady...  I don't think she'll ever come back!

   Pete is such a sweetheart and I love 99.9 percent of everything about
him.  He's great company just like Dad said he'd be, but Stan had hoped he
would be protective of me.  This city isn't the safest place to live, after
all.  Sorry to say, I think if someone broke into the house, Pete would
stand there with a tennis ball in his mouth and his tail wagging while they
stole everything but the wallpaper.  Seriously, though, he'd probably make
a lot of noise if heard someone outside; maybe that's all he needs to do.
He has a BIG bark!

   When Pete was close to a year old, Stan was home and we were in bed with
Pete stretched out between us.  I was half asleep but noticed that Pete was
dreaming; he was snorting and grunting and his legs were twitching.  He
does that a lot, so I didn't pay much attention to him.  A minute or two
later, he started it again.  This time, I suddenly felt something warm and
wet splash against my side.  Was the damned dog peeing on me or what?  I
let out a shriek.  No.  It took a minute, but I composed myself and
realized what was happening.  I went in the bathroom to grab a paper towel
and sure enough, the stuff trickling down my tummy was white.  That furry
pervert was having a wet dream!  Stan was freaked when I screamed, but when
I told him what happened he laughed so long and hard that I thought I was
going to have to call the paramedics to give him oxygen.  Or not...  I was
ready to kill them both!  It happened several more times over the next few
months but I managed not to get in the way of it again.  But the stains on
the carpets and blankets and walls were starting to get to me.

   Well, Pete's testicle had not descended, he was constantly showing off
his "lipstick" to guests and now he was squirting sperm all over the place
in his sleep.  He was over a year old now, so I decided to make an
appointment to have him neutered.  Hubby wasn't happy about it, but you
know how guys are about that.  It happened while he was at sea, so I'm sure
he'll get over it.  I dropped him off at the Vet one morning on the way to
work (dog, not hubby) and picked him up the following morning, which was
Saturday.  He had to stay overnight because his surgery was more involved
than a simple neutering.  I expected him to be kind of groggy and depressed
when he came home, but when they brought him out he was just the usual
silly, old Pete.  He danced around me, beating my legs with his tail... 
and sprinkling on the floor.

   "Cora," I asked the Vet.  "Did you see that?  That's what he does."

   "Yes, he's an excitable wetter.  It looks like he's not outgrowing it.
There are a couple of medications that may help."

   Pete and I left with some pills and a plastic cone around his neck so he
wouldn't pull his stitches.  I took that off after the first day, as Pete
isn't one to mess with himself.  He had a small incision just in front of
his now-empty sack and a long one in his belly, a little to the left of his
sheath.  The pills seemed to help him with the piddling, but they made him
nervous and hyper.  I returned to the vet the following week to have Pete's
stitches out and told her about the side effects of the meds.  She gave me
some different pills that worked, but they were terribly expensive.  They
had an even nastier side effect: Pete turned into Psycho Dog!  He was
constantly looking over his shoulder and would turn around abruptly and
bark at things in the hallway that I couldn't see.  He had this wild-eyed
look and he would bristle at harmless things like mailboxes or fire
hydrants.  The whole thing gave me the creeps.  I wanted him not to piddle
in the house when he got excited, but I didn't want to mess up his head! 
He stopped getting those pills after just a few days.

   On our next Vet visit, I told Cora about the nasty side effects of the
new pills.  She thought for a minute and said, "Some dogs have that
reaction to them.  There is a surgery, but it's very expensive and risky
and may or may not help.  We don't do it here; you'd have to take him to
Boston."

   "That doesn't sound like a good idea," I said.  "I can't really afford
that anyway and he's fine most of the time.  It's just when he gets excited
or greeting guests that it happens.  I don't want to put him through more
surgery just for that."

   Cora thought for a minute, then got kind of a strange look on her face,
almost like an evil grin.  "There's a sort of therapy you can try that has
worked for a couple of my patients.  It doesn't cost anything, has few side
effects, but most people are reluctant to do it."

   "At this point, I'm willing to try most anything that doesn't hurt Pete
or mess with his personality.  What do I need to do?"

   "Well, what we're trying to do here is to tighten the muscles of his
urinary tract.  It can be done with medications or surgery, both of which
we've ruled out.  The simplest way to tighten up muscles is to exercise
them."

   I heard a couple of the veterinary assistants snickering in the
background and I began to wonder if Cora was teasing me.  She didn't seem
like the type who would do that.

   "So how can I exercise Pete's urinary muscles?" The assistants began
snickering again.

   Cora wagged a finger at them.  "This isn't a joke, girls.  What you have
to do is masturbate him, to orgasm.  Start out doing it twice a day for two
weeks, then once a day for a month or so, then two to three times per week
after that."

   "Two or three times a week for how long?"

   "For the rest of his life, I'm afraid."

   At that point, one of the assistants was red-faced and nearly in tears
trying to keep from laughing.  "I'm sorry," she said.  "I know it sounds
crazy but it works!"

   I tried to ignore the giggling assistants.  "Do you think he'll let me
do it?" I asked Cora.

   "Most likely, he will.  Many dogs actually learn to enjoy it."

   At that point, the assistant burst out laughing and had to leave the
room.  Cora glared at her over her glasses and continued.

   "Since Pete is neutered now, there will be no semen.  You would have to
have a cup to collect him if he was intact."

   I was slightly put off by the whole thing but still somewhat intrigued.

   "Will he still be able to perform?  I mean, being neutered and all..."

   "Castration has surprisingly little effect on a male dog's function,"
Cora explained.  "Also, he had his surgery only recently, so he should have
no trouble." She called to her son as he passed in the hallway.  "Steven,
you've done this before; show her how it works." Steve obliged, though I
could see that his ears were turning a little pink!

   Cora explained how a male canine's anatomy was different from that of a
human and proceeded to describe exactly how to bring Pete to orgasm while
Steve reluctantly demonstrated.  Nothing too complicated, you just need to
keep pressure on the area in the back of his penis, between his "bulbis"
(knot) and his scrotum while you...  well, stroke him.  I'd seen most of
the anatomy before on Pete and on other dogs from my youth.  What I wasn't
prepared for was just how BIG Pete gets when he's fully erect!  It's at
least eight inches long and very thick.  His knot is the size of maybe a
tennis ball.  My hubby would be green with envy if he saw it, I'm sure! 
Steve helped me get him started, then left me alone with him to move
another patient.  Pete stayed hard for probably fifteen minutes or so and
throbbed the whole time.  I guess his urinary tract got plenty of exercise!

   I thought I'd be grossed out, but I wasn't at all.  There were no bad
smells or messy stuff.  Pete's cock was smooth, pink and squeaky-clean and
there was nothing disgusting about it.  I'd never seen a dog completely
'out' and hard before, but Pete gets hard in his sheath sometimes, so I
kind of knew what to expect as far as the shape and all.  It was almost
kind of a turn-on for me, especially since he seemed to really like what we
were doing to him.  On the way out, Pete had kisses for all the office help
and left the place with a silly grin on his face.  So, I could handle it
(er, no pun intended there) but I wasn't sure how I was going to explain it
to my husband!

   Late that evening, I decided to gather my courage and take care of Pete
for the second time that day.  I remembered that Cora had also mentioned
that I should always do it in a special place and do something unusual that
I wouldn't do otherwise.  That would help to keep him from embarrassing me
in front of friends or relatives.  Like he didn't do that already!  Anyway,
I picked a quiet spot in the old pantry next to my washer and dryer.  I got
out a kid's T-shirt that I'd bought for my nephew but never got around to
sending to him and it was too small now.  I put it on Pete and it fit him
perfectly.  Maybe it's a good thing that I don't dress him up for
Halloween! I opened a bottle of diluted K-Y that I'd made up, also on
Cora's advice, and dabbed a little of it on Pete's nose.  Okay, we had a
special place and two unusual things that we do before anything kinky
happens.

   Now the fun begins.  I reached under Pete's belly and pushed his sheath
back, exposing his dogginess in all its glistening, pink glory.  I
slathered it up with plenty of the dilute K-Y and let his sheath slip back
over it.  He looked at me kind of strangely at first, but he stood quietly.
I reached behind his knot and curled my thumb and forefinger behind it and
gave him a few quick squeezes.  His cock started to throb almost instantly
and I could feel his knot swelling in my hand.  Pete got a somewhat
startled expression on his face, but then he grabbed my shoulder with a
front leg and humped my hand wildly!  I worked his sheath back with my
other hand before his knot got too big and he kept humping for maybe half a
minute.

   As he finished thrusting, I could feel some very strong contractions
that went through his whole body.  He grunted and gritted his teeth in time
with them and they were way stronger than they had been at the Vet's
office. He feels more comfortable on his home turf, I guess.  If he'd still
had his nuts (or at least the one that was down in his sack) I imagine he
would have shot his doggy sperm clear across the room.  As he was, though,
a little bead of clear fluid formed on the tip of his dink until it got too
big and dripped to the floor, then another took its place.  I got curious
and caught one of the drops in my hand and tasted it, it was just a little
bit salty and not much else.  I rubbed some more of the K-Y on Pete's penis
from time to time because Cora had said to not let it dry out.  He lasted
twenty minutes or so, then his knot suddenly deflated and the whole thing
disappeared into his sheath like a rabbit into its hole.  I took off Pete's
super hero T-shirt and got lots of doggy kisses in the process.  After I
took him out for a quick potty run, we climbed into bed for our sleepy-time
cuddle.

   After a few weeks, the whole thing got to be pretty routine.  Pete still
got excited about it, but I completely got over all the weird feelings I
had about jacking off my dog.  After all, we were doing it for medical
reasons on a Vet's advice.  I still wasn't sure exactly how I was going to
explain it to Stan, though.  He would be home soon and I couldn't just keep
it a secret, it would have to happen while he was here at one time or
another.  Maybe the best thing would be to tell him the truth right up
front, as weird and wild as it would sound.  "Hey, babe, the Vet says I
have to jack off the dog so he won't piddle on your shoes." Maybe not... 
I've got to find a better way to phrase it!

   One evening about bedtime, I called Pete into the laundry room.  He's
very smart and he knows a lot of words and phrases.  "Where's your T-shirt?
It's showtime!" is the one that lets him know we're going to do his
"therapy" session.  He came running and assumed the position next to the
dryer.  As I unsheathed him, I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I
went down on him.  I've done that for my hubby forever, but I never thought
I'd want to do it for my dog!  Surprise, surprise...  Pete's cock smells
and tastes a WHOLE LOT better than a human one!  He got to humping fast and
furious, so I had to back off him for fear he'd hurt me.  Dogs have that
bone in there that can bruise you up if you're not careful.  Once he
finished thrusting, I got back on him.  I alternated between sucking his
tip and deep-throating him.  The tasty little drips of fluid that came out
of him made it even more fun until he went soft on me.  I got a little
carried away and just kept sucking him well after he went soft, and then
something really strange happened.  He got half-hard again for a few
seconds.  I felt him have a rapid-fire orgasm way up inside, near his tail
hole, I think, and a big gush of that same fluid shot out of him!  The
stuff tasted slightly bitter and made my tongue tingle, but it wasn't too
bad.  It's happened a few times since, but not often.

   I ended up telling Stan exactly what the Vet told me, as much as I could
remember.  He said it was kind of freaky, but if that's what I had to do,
he was okay with it.  I even talked him into trying it.  Just once, though.
Pete wasn't too happy about it, but he let him do it.  I'm afraid it would
be pushing my luck a bit if I told him about giving Pete blowjobs, so I
just plain didn't mention it.  Stan was very impressed, though, the next
time he came home on shore leave.  Pete greeted him with his usual happy
dance, ran all through the house and didn't piddle a single drop!  We've
been doing Pete's "exercises" now for almost two years and he hasn't had
any more problems with sprinkling.  The only thing is, he likes his
"therapy" so much that he still wants me to do it every evening.

   Last week, I had a really bad day at work.  I was on the phone with the
Customer from Hell for over an hour and none of the solutions I offered
were acceptable to him.  I tried putting him on speaker and getting my
supervisor in, but that was no help either.  After he called us both a few
choice names, I laid into him big time.  He finally hung up on me.  My
supervisor took me into her office and reprimanded me for letting my Irish
temper get the better of me, but she finally admitted that the guy was a
jerk.

   I left early and went home in a huff.  As if I wasn't in a bad enough
mood, it was pouring rain out and the traffic was awful.  Pete hates
getting wet and balked at going out to relieve himself, but I somehow
avoided screaming at him.  It wasn't his fault that I'd had a bad day,
after all.  I sat down for a while in a dark, quiet room to try and cool
off.  Pete is very sensitive to my moods and tried to make me feel better
by leaning on me, giving me doggy kisses and trying to get me to cuddle
with him.  He knows how well that works!  His coat is soft and smooth, so
petting him is a great tranquilizer.  But as wonderful as Pete is with
helping me calm my nerves, I needed something more.  I proceeded to drink a
few too many glasses of wine...  it only made me dizzy and more depressed.
I wished Stan were here, I would have dragged him into the bedroom and...
Damn, he wouldn't be home for another two weeks!

   Pete padded across the room and sat a few feet in front of me with his
ears folded back and an apologetic expression on his face.  I appreciated
his sympathy, but he really wasn't helping a whole lot just now.  As I
absent-mindedly watched him, I noticed his lower belly moving up and down
slightly as he breathed.  With each breath, a little more of his pink doggy
'lipstick' would slide out of his sheath.  He did that so often that I
mostly ignored it, but right then I actually found myself admiring it for
some reason.  This time, it was way beyond just poking out like he usually
does.  He had a pretty serious erection going there!

   Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was just my mind trying to think
about anything besides work, but I was having some really weird thoughts. I
found myself wondering what Pete would be like in bed...  as a lover.  I'd
heard stories about some women who had done that, though I didn't know any
personally.  I'd also read some stuff on the Internet and it was a little
exciting, but I had never thought seriously about trying it.  The people
who wrote it didn't all seem like weirdos out for a cheap thrill, some were
actually intelligent and articulate and really seemed to love their dogs.
Whoa, girl...  what are you thinking?  Sure, you love Pete, but not in THAT
way!  But he's still pretty sexy, even though he's neutered.  I'd been
doing all those other things with him after all...  but it was for medical
purposes, right?  Um, no, I guess the Vet didn't tell me I needed to suck
him off, now, did she?

   I feel like banging my head against the wall to knock some sense into
myself, but then I notice that I'm starting to get wet down below.  My left
hand slips inside of my slacks as if it has a mind of its own and I try to
think about my hubby as I finger myself.  But the more aroused I get, the
less I'm able to concentrate on Stan, who's halfway around the world.  That
lovely, fat cock bobbing up and down is only halfway across the room and
it's looking more attractive all the time!  My fingertips brush against my
clitoris almost accidentally and I get a head rush.  I'm getting so hot
that it's either Pete or the nearest doorknob...  I want him!  I'm crazy...
no, I'm drunk...  maybe a little of both.  Damn it, why am I even thinking
about screwing my dog?  'Cause my man's been away for months, I need a
stiff dick and there's one right in front of me.  I want him!  Oh, what the
hell...  as the old song says, 'Love the one you're with...'

   "Petey!  Where's your T-shirt?  It's showtime!"

   I barely get the words out before Pete is on his feet and trotting
excitedly towards the laundry room.  I pull his T-shirt off the coat rack
and slip it over his head so it hangs around his neck; I don't bother
stretching it over his legs and chest.  I take off my own clothes and pile
them on top of the washer and dryer, except my panties, which I toss on the
floor in front of Pete.  He buries his nose in the wet crotch and pushes
them across the floor while he does this strange, little step dance with
his back feet.  He keeps lifting one hind leg like he wants to pee on them.
I yell at him and he looks up at me.  He has this really weird expression
with his lips rolled back and his teeth are chattering.  His nose goes back
into the panties, except now he's humping air.  I sit down on an old
kitchen chair next to the dryer and call to him in a soft, breathy voice.

   "Pe-tey!  Pe-tey!  Come see what Mama's got for her big, sexy boy!"

   He turns around and watches me with my panties hanging off the end of
his muzzle.  He looks so ridiculous that I can't help but laugh at him. 
Always the clown, he tosses his head so the panties go flying and struts
over to me with a goofy grin.  His tail wags against the washer and dryer
with a loud thumping sound, until he gets a whiff of the treat I have
waiting for him between my legs.  He licks gingerly at first, as if it's
forbidden fruit, but with whispered encouragement from me his huge tongue
cleans me thoroughly and penetrates me, looking for more.  I part my legs
and open my lips with my fingers to give him full access.  His warm, wet,
slightly rough tongue provides a sensation like nothing I've ever
experienced before...  until his ice-cold nose bumps my clit!  I barely
stifle a shriek and nearly jump through the ceiling from the shock!  Pete
backs off for a moment and tips his ears back in apology, then goes back to
work on my pussy.  Now, he concentrates on my clit, suckling and nibbling
it very much like my hubby does...  except Pete doesn't stop after thirty
seconds!

   I involuntarily thrust against Pete's muzzle with my hips, faster and
faster, until I feel a wave of "tinglies" shoot through my body like an
electric charge.  I gasp for breath as I come harder that I have in years,
maybe ever...  purple and yellow sparks dance at the edges of my field of
vision as my pounding orgasm trails off to a shudder.  I rest a few minutes
while Pete licks even more fiercely; my body provides him with more and
tastier fluids.  Suddenly, he stops licking and rears up, grasping me under
the arms with his forelegs.  He rests his chin on my shoulder and begins
thrusting wildly with his hindquarters.  His cock is fully unsheathed
except for his knot and it thrashes aimlessly, jabbing me on the tops of my
thighs and my tummy.  I try to guide him to the right spot, but the
position is totally wrong.  It takes some doing, but I manage to wriggle
free from his grip and I get on all fours on the floor.

   I try to crawl towards the tattered rug in front of the washer and
dryer, but Pete mounts me backwards, his hindquarters over my head.  He
begins thrusting again and pokes at my mouth with the tip of his cock. 
There's not much chance that he's going to let me stand up and get his
bottle of diluted K-Y off the shelf, so I lube him up with spit as best I
can.  I slip his sheath forward to keep him from drying out and wrestle him
off of me.  I crawl onto the rug and wiggle my butt at him, but he comes
around in front of me and tries again to get me to blow him.  I guess I've
done that for him too many times and he doesn't know anything else.  Well,
it's time to teach him what the pussy is for!  Each time I struggle free,
he gets more determined and I get more scratches.  Finally, I get on my
knees with my tummy resting on the little chair.  Now my head is up high,
my bottom is at just the right height and Pete figures out exactly what I
want him to do.  He takes a few more licks, but then he slides up onto my
back.  He jabs me in the thighs and butt a few times, but I'm able to
adjust my height a little and my hands are free to guide him.

   I grab his dick and I can tell that he's pretty well knotted up in his
sheath.  That's okay, I'm not so sure I want that big knot in me the first
time, anyway.  He pokes, prods and stabs at me as I point his tip into the
proper opening; then...  Ooooooh...  Myyyyy...  Gawwwwd!  Pete pounds away
at me like a furry jackhammer!  At first, the coarse, bristly hairs of his
sheath tip prickle against my inner lips as he tries to jam his knot into
me.  It's very irritating and kind of painful.  His thrusting slows and his
knot shrinks somewhat and it pops out of his sheath-and into me!  My heart
skips a couple of beats as Pete slams home all his eight inches of hot
doggy meat.  He fucks me with renewed vigor until I feel his shaft thicken
and pulsate strongly-and his knot first fills me, then stretches me far
beyond anything I've ever had in me before!  It hurts a tiny bit; nothing
close to unbearable, though.  In the back of my mind I'm aware that Pete
owns me for the duration and I shouldn't struggle or I risk hurting both
him and myself.  I just hope he knows it too.  He continues to push and
pull-ever so slowly-while we're tied.  My chest rocks back and forth on the
chair, rubbing and squashing my nipples on the rough, vinyl surface.  The
thickest part of his shaft, other that his knot, fills my tunnel and throbs
against me in just the right place.  A deep, powerful orgasm, like no man
has ever been able to give me, rumbles through me like thunder.  As I come,
I feel Pete's penis thicken and throb even harder.  He grunts softly in
time with his own orgasm and drools a little between my shoulders.

   It seemed like hours, but it was actually no more than fifteen minutes
or so, when Pete relaxed his grip around my chest.  His knot shrunk quickly
and he pulled out of me with a wet, slurping sound.  He cleaned himself
(and me) up a little, then stretched out on the rug like nothing had
happened.  I joined him there for a few minutes for a cuddle.  He panted
softly as I stroked his beautiful, enormous ears and kissed him softly on
the top of his muzzle while I massaged his muscular shoulders.  I took a
quick shower and put some clothes on, and Pete and I went out for a walk.
The rain had stopped while Pete and I were otherwise engaged, but a few
puddles remained.  Just like a kid, he had to walk straight through the
middle of every one.  I stopped to rest for a minute and sat on the top of
a retaining wall that looked fairly dry.  Pete hopped up and sat beside me.
He gently placed a soggy paw on my shoulder and when I turned around to see
what he wanted, he looked up and kissed me on the mouth.  I mean, he
Frenched me.  Ordinarily, I wouldn't have let him do that, but there had
been a pretty major change in our relationship that night.  We kissed for
the longest time; a deep, passionate kiss that any human guy would envy. 
Without really thinking about it, I reached down and gave his sheath a
squeeze.  About the time it occurred to me that we probably shouldn't be
doing this in public, I heard a car slowing down and a familiar voice.

   "Hey, you two...  get a room!  Geez!"

   "Dad!  We're just...  out for a walk."

   My dad smiled and nodded.  "Yeah, okay.  Hey, you've gotta be careful
with that.  Once they start, it's not easy to train it out of 'em."

   "What the heck are you talking about?"

   "You know!" Dad flipped his tongue out at me a couple of times, winked
and drove away laughing.

   As Petey and I walked back home, I couldn't help but wonder just how
much Dad had seen, or maybe worse yet, how much he might figure out.  I've
talked to him a couple of times since and he hasn't even mentioned it, but
I still wonder.  He's always been pretty cool about stuff like that,
though...  Sometimes it makes me think he might have a kinky side himself.
Ack!  What am I saying?  This is my Dad we're talking about!  What the
hell...  let Dad think what he wants, I'm way over 21.  It's my hubby Stan
that I have to worry about.  Well, maybe what he doesn't know won't hurt
him.  If Petey misbehaves in front of him, I can always blame it on Pete's
"therapy." After all, considering what other sailors' wives have done (and
even bragged about to me) I think I've been pretty good to Stan.  He should
be glad someone's looking after his best gal while he's away and she's not
having a lover in while he's out to sea.  Well, not a human one, anyway. 
Pete takes good care of me, just like Dad said he would.  Nobody really
needs to know just how good!  

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