Chapter 5
I found the note from Sandy taped to the refrigerator after I finished talking to Lori. Apparently this was the forum on which my sister and her daughter communicated when they were going their separate ways. It was a good thing I'd spotted it, or I might have had some explaining to do.
The note was about someone named Franco. I was supposed to pick him up this afternoon at a Dr. Forest's on Central Avenue.
Needless to say, I anticipated one of Sandy's and Lori's far-out friends. However, I decided to go through with it because I couldn't afford to leave anything to chance if I was going to keep the impersonation going.
Lori's Vespa had a seat on the back of it, so I guessed I could take Franco wherever he was going if I drove slow enough. I hoped he wasn't too big a guy. Naturally I anticipated the address was a free clinic or something. I halfway expected that this Franco was being treated for VD considering the kind of wild life my sister and my niece led.
All of which left me, it goes without saying, totally unprepared for a veterinarian's office. When I mumbled self-consciously that I was here to pick up, uh, a Franco, the receptionist replied, "Your Doberman is very anxious to see you."
I almost fainted. What if this dog didn't buy the fiction that I was Lori? With dogs it's the smell, not the visual recognition that counts. How would I explain it if he chewed me up while I was trying to get him home?
"Are you all right, ma'am?" the receptionist asked as I teetered under the weight of my anxiety.
I lied that nothing was wrong.
"Okay, then," she said, "I'll go get your animal. He's been raring to go all day."
I heard barking in the background. The scuffling of claws against linoleum.
Then a door to the waiting room opened and a snarling, black beast came surging out on a chain. He was so fierce he looked like he could snap the link to the receptionist's arm-even the arm itself-if he really wanted to.
"Is he named after the football player?" the receptionist asked, gamely trying to restrain the straining dog.
"I beg your pardon."
"Franco. Franco Harris. Is your dog named after the player for the Steelers?"
I wasn't a football fan, but I immediately knew who she was talking about. I remembered Franco Harris the vicious Pittsburgh running back from the Super Bowl, and he was big and black and tough.
"Yes, he is," I said.
"Well, here he is," she smiled, and startled me by handing me the leash.
Suddenly the fearsome dog was in my possession and I didn't know what to do about it. If he didn't want me to, there was no way I could control him.
Franco and I stared at each other for a moment. His eyes seemed to be almost human. Was he sizing me up?
When he jumped up on me I tried to conceal my alarm, but it was no use. I was paralyzed with fear, a sitting duck for Franco's gleaming teeth should he decide to sink them into me.
God, you can imagine the relief when he licked instead of bit me.
"Looks like he's glad to see you," the receptionist cheerfully noted.
I'd passed the test. Inside I felt like I'd just escaped with my life. On the outside I forced a wan smile, belying my churning guts.
When we got outside to the Vespa, Franco pulled the leash out of my hand with ridiculous ease and hopped onto the backseat. Apparently he rode there all the time.
On our ride back to the apartment I could feel Franco's hot breath down my neck the whole way. During the trip, we attracted more than our share of attention, but I endured it knowing that a woman and a Doberman sharing a motor scooter was a legitimately unusual sight. I'd have gawked, too, if I'd seen it.
However, when we got home and I got off the Vespa, I discovered that there was an even more compelling reason than I'd imagined for people to stare at us. Sitting on his haunches on the back of the scooter, Franco had developed a massive erection.
Not only had passersby been gaping at the dog and I, they'd been gaping at the animal's massive hard-on. No wonder I'd developed a crick in my back.
"Come on, let's get you in the building," I urged Franco off the bike by rattling his chain.
He followed me obediently. However, on our way up the stairs he began sniffing my ass. Was he double-checking with the most powerful of his senses to make sure I was Lori and not some imposter?
Knowing next to nothing about handling dogs, especially big ones, I let Franco keep sniffing my can all the way up to the apartment. Regardless of whether he had decided on my identity, he was obviously fascinated by my scent down there.
When we got inside and I got the courage to turn around and confront him, I saw that Franco was slobbering. The stub of his tail was wagging like an abbreviated pendulum. And his hard-on was still in evidence, bigger than ever.
I was starting to get the picture. The dog's actions weren't attributable at all to his suspicions about who I was. The fact of the matter was that I made him horny.
Quickly it all became clear to me. Even bestiality was not out of the realm of my sister's far-out lifestyle. From the way Franco was carrying on there was no doubt Lori regularly had sex with him.
Needless to say, at the moment his desire was particularly rampant. Locked up at the vet's for several days, Franco was raring to go. He couldn't wait to get it on with his mistress.
And till the end of the week, that was nobody else but yours truly. If I was going to successfully impersonate my twin I had no choice but to give in to the turned-on beast panting randily before me. I had to fuck the dog.
"How do you want it?" I sighed as I began to strip. Franco was prowling like a wolf around the room by the time I was naked. The sight of a woman's tits, ass and pussy to him was like a pile of fresh bones to any other dog.
Sensing that he wanted me to behave like a bitch in heat, I dropped to all fours and spread my loins from the rear. I could feel my pussy flexing at the center of the parted cheeks of my ass, a delectable sight for man or beast.
Franco bounded over and began licking. His tongue was rough against the tender petals of my snatch and established an instant buzz of friction. When my clit was raspily lapped I couldn't stop the miniature orgasm that developed.
After he was through lubricating my cunt, I expected Franco to get down to business and fuck me. However, to my surprise, he trotted around to my face.
"What is it, boy?" I asked. But I immediately knew what he wanted-he wanted his cock sucked.
Franco's cock was big and black just like the rest of him. The shaft resembled a forearm, and the knotty head was like a fist. Most people choose Dobermans as pets because of their qualities as guard dogs; Lori had obviously selected hers by the size of his prick.
Okay, okay, I mentally calmed myself down. If you have to do it, you have to do it. Go ahead and suck his cock. Close your eyes if you have to.
In self-enforced darkness I reached out and grasped the hard-on which was causing me so much anxiety. It was like gripping a baseball bat.
Slowly I guided the dog's cock toward my mouth. When I could feel the head throbbing against my mouth, I slipped my lips over the brutal knob.
The phallic flavor was a revelation. I don't know what I expected, but certainly not such pleasure. With my eyes closed, sucking the dog's prick was just like sucking an extraordinarily well-hung man's. I was beginning to understand my sister's motives.
With Franco whimpering, I swallowed his tool all the way down to his fuzzy balls. If somebody had told me a few days ago that I would wind up deep-throating a Doberman just because I traded places with my twin sister, I'd have thought them hopelessly demented.
My eyes were open now because there was no longer anything to be afraid of nor repelled by. With a cock as sweet-tasting as Franco had, it was only natural for a woman to want to suck it to the hilt.
I was so excited that I had to be careful I didn't provide too much suction and make him come in mouth before I got that monster prick where I really craved it-in my cunt. I didn't have enough experience with the canine world of sex to know about a dog's orgasmic capacity was, and I didn't want to risk losing his wad on a misfire.
Okay, now we were ready. Ready to fuck. The necessary components were in perfect working order. My cunt bubbling with liquid desire? Franco's spit-soaked hard-on twitching and throbbing.
Returning to my rear, Franco hopped up on my back, digging his claws into my bare flesh like razors. Knowing what was going to happen next, I reveled in the bloody pain.
He began barking as he worked his dick into my cunt. He couldn't wait to prong me to the hilt, and when he'd accomplished that, to begin fucking in earnest. A dog's action seemed to employ twice as much energy as a man's. Never had I felt so dominated.
"Oh, fuck me ... fuck me!" I gasped excitedly. "Keep fucking me harder and harder, Franco!"
He responded with a machine-gunning series of brutal thrusts. Apparently he'd heard this command many times before from Lori.
"Your cock feels so good," I moaned, entranced by the vileness of my own filthy tongue. "Soooo gooood in my tight cunt."
Franco barked with excitement, digging his claws a little deeper into my back. His prick seemed to grow an extra inch, apparently expanding the dirtier I talked.
"Your prick is splitting me in two," I babbled. "It hurts so good."
His tool swelled anew in my tight fuck-pit.
"I'll bet your balls are in an uproar, huh, Franco? Just boiling with hot cum. Getting ready to shoot down your cock and fill my pussy."
He whimpered rather than getting loose with his customary bark. I knew the reason for that. Even though I couldn't see them, I knew his nuts had to be turning blue. If he didn't come quickly the poor animal might explode.
Clamping down to the nth degree on my pussy muscles, I closed my snatch around the full extent of Franco's prick like a hangman's noose.
"I want it! I want it!" I screamed hysterically. "Fill my cunt with your cum."
My vaginal contortions did the trick. The dog's cock bucked like a .44 Magnum in my fuck-hole and fired its bullet.
The ammunition was liquid not lead. And not lethal, but lovely. Bull's-eye!
"Oh, Jesus," I groaned appreciatively, "aren't you ever going to stop coming?"
Franco barked excitedly, obviously proud of his performance. He was certainly entitled. Cum was running in rivers down my legs.
But, despite his triumph, I wasn't going to let him rest on his laurels. Now that I had achieved my primary objective of making his prick explode in my cunt, I was free to do a little experimenting. Why not find out if a horny woman can make a dog come twice within minutes?
On the first go-round I'd passed up a mouthful of jizz in order to insure that orthodox fucking took place. This time I wasn't going to be so stingy with myself.
Pulling my snatch away from Franco's cock, I swiveled all the way around so I could face him. In the process, his twisting claws removed the skin from my back in bloody strips. It felt good-I was so turned on, anything felt good. Except stopping.
"Nice doggie," I cooed in a soothing voice. "Lori's going to suck that great, big cock of yours and make you come all over again. Right in her mouth."
I went for his dick, which was now half-wilted, looking soggy as it flopped between his haunches. Bringing the lax meat to my lips, I prepared to stuff it into my mouth.
However, before I made the insertion, something stopped me. A sudden insight.
A moment ago, when I had been talking to Franco, I'd voluntarily referred to myself as Lori. There'd been no pressure on me-I'd just gone ahead and done it.
This was significant because it meant a real transformation was taking place. After only twenty-four hours out of the suburbs, I'd automatically come to think of myself as the hedonistic nonconformist that was my twin sister. I was Lori.
Lori fondling her dog's sloppy-looking prick. Getting ready to stick it in her mouth. Suck it. Make it hard again. Make it come again so she could swallow every precious drop.
With an eagerness totally unknown to me in my normal sex-life in the suburbs, I threw my lips over Franco's cock and suctioned its pliant mass all the way down my throat. I'd have him hard again within seconds or I wasn't a woman.
This was the perfect position in which to play with Franco's balls. Before I'd imagined them turning blue from the pressure within; now I'd see it happen as I fucked him with my mouth harder and harder.
His dick was definitely stirring in my oral cavity even before I began to fiddle with his nuts. However, after I gave his scrotum a few pumps, it began to grow by leaps and bounds. Soon I achieved my goal: a mouthful of the hardest cock imaginable on man or beast.
Now I began jerking my tightly clenched lips back and forth along the shaft. Sometimes I used my teeth, also. The friction I was creating practically shot off sparks.
Franco seemed to enjoy it the second time around more than he had the first. It was clear that Lori made a common practice of servicing him orally right after he'd fucked her pussy. Once again there was no difference between her and me.
Faster and faster I rubbed my lips and teeth over Franco's cock, the way Lori would do it. I just couldn't get enough of that sweet animal prick.
Checking the most reliable index of Franco's orgasmic flash-point, I glanced down at his balls, Mmmmmm, they were tight lumps, clinging as though magnetized to his phallic root. And I swear they were blue.
Franco let out a howl that made him sound more like a hound-dog baying at the moon than a Doberman fucking his mistress in the mouth. His cock jumped like a rocket leaving the launching pad and then self-destructed.
What an outpouring! It was like sucking the crater of a miniature volcano. Franco's cum was like molten lava as it flowed down my throat and filled my stomach.
I greedily tried to retain every drop, but with so much it was impossible. Dog-jism began to back up in my mouth and breathing passages. When it started to drip out in gooey clots, I thought again of that childhood routine Lori and I used to have with the oatmeal.
When Sandy got home from school that afternoon, I was languidly soaking in the tub. I could hear Franco bark when she came in.
"Mom, Mom, where are you?" she called.
"Taking a bath," I called.
"I see you picked up Franco from the vet's," she said. "Is he all right?"
"Can't you tell?" I grinned and gestured at the water in which I was immersed. It was cloudy with the dog-cum which had washed from my body. It looked like I was bathing in a tubful of skim-milk.
"I hope you didn't do it in the tub, Mother. The poor animal might slip and break a leg."