Chapter 7
The cop's name—or at least the name he was using-was Ben King. I gleaned that from a conversation I started after the gang-fucking was over.
He had slipped back into the crowd, the best way to stay under cover I guess. He was obviously a pro at his work.
I knew that I should pay King no special attention for the safety of both of us, but I couldn't help it. From a somewhat faceless thug, he had been transformed through his revelation into a kinetically attractive man.
"I tried to fight it, but I couldn't. I wanted to fuck him again.
While I was shooting the bull with the convicts, I was plotting a course of seduction with reference to Ben King. I wanted his big cock all to myself, without a gang of drooling stooges ogling our lovemaking.
I wished these cons were really the kids they sometimes resembled in their retarded expression. I'd sent them out on some kind of an errand so Ben and I could be alone to make love.
But, of course, they were not kids at all. They were a pack of murderous psychos who would kill at the wink of an eye.
And, especially me, if I made one false move.
I was busily deliberating whether putting the make on Ben King was worth the risk, when a noisy banging postponed the decision-making process. Somebody was knocking at the door.
"Who's that?" one of the cons asked sharply.
"I-I don't know," I truthfully stammered. "I'm n-not expecting anyone. I'll h-have to answer the door to f-find out."
"Okay, go ahead and answer it," a voice I recognized as Ben's gave me permission to go to the door. "But be careful!"
This concern—even masked by brusqueness as it was—gave me the lift I needed. It felt good to know that I was not alone among this pack of killers, as I threw on my robe before greeting the visitor.
I opened the door not knowing who or what to expect on the outside. However, I can factually say that the last thing I expected was an angry red-faced cop with wet pants and dog on a rope.
"This your mutt, lady?" the cop thundered.
I couldn't believe it. The law finally shows up and wants to talk to me about a dog.
"What is it, Donna?" Ben imitated my husband from the hallway.
"A police officer, darling, apparently about a stray dog," I answered. "What should I do, dear?"
"Talk to him," I was instructed. "The Haley family is always willing to cooperate with local law enforcement."
Suddenly it hit me. This cop on the stoop might not be as dumb as he looked. Ben may have been trying to tell me that this nonsense about the dog was all a stall so the police could case out the house.
I could not take the chance that this instinct was wrong. The only thing to do was go along.
"Okay, lady, now that you finished the Indian Love Call with your hubby, you wanna tell me if this is your damn dog," the cop at the door fumed. "I ain't got all day and this monster has already pissed all over my leg."
"Yes, I can see," I tittered. "But I'm afraid the animal is not mine."
"Then who does he belong to?" the cop snapped. If this was a cover, this guy was a fabulous actor.
"The people next door at 402," I said. "Mickey and Sylvia—"
"I already been there," he cut me off. "They ain't home."
"Well, this is their German Shepherd, Bo. Here, look, I'll show you."
I reached out and scratched the animal behind the ears and called him by name. Although Bo and I hadn't been the fastest of friends in the past, since he was always shitting on my lawn, he responded with a loud bark and happily wagging tail. With a rope tied around his shaggy neck, Bo was happy to see a familiar face.
"See," I said. "What'd he do, anyway?"
"There's been complaints from half the people in this neighborhood about dog turds in their yards and tipped over garbage cans. They all said it was a German Shepherd and when I come out here to check things out I found this one runnin' around. You figure it out, lady."
"So what are you going to do with him?"
"Take'm to the pound and have'm gassed if I can't find his owners. This thing's a goddamn public nuisance."
I didn't know how to interpret what was going on. A moment ago I'd had a high level of confidence that this guy at the door was part of a rescue effort. But what if I was wrong?
Not able to bear the responsibility for possibly sending Bo to his death, I looked to my stand-in husband for help.
"They want to take Mickey and Sylvia's dog to the pound," I called. "Couldn't we do something, dear?"
"Yeah," was Ben's reply, "go ahead and take him in. Tell the officer that you'll have the owners contact the local precinct when they get home."
"You heard my husband," I said to the cop at the door. "Is it all right?"
He thought about it a moment. "Okay," he finally agreed, handing me the rope attached to the dog's neck. "I oughta haul'm in, but I'm glad to get rid of the fuckin' monster. Just have those people call up the precinct, though or you'll be in as much trouble as they are for bein' an accessory."
"Certainly, officer," I replied and tugged at Bo's rope. As the cop tipped his hat and turned to leave, the dog sprang into the house and I closed the door behind us.
The convicts came out of hiding and scared Bo. He started barking and running around, snapping at their shins. I was afraid one of them would haul out his cannon and blast the poor animal's head off.
"Come here, Bo," I tried to rescue him. "Come here to Donna."
He ran to me and nervously jumped up with his paws on my shoulders. His hot gamey breath flared my nostrils, while his long wet tongue lapped against my cheeks.
"It's okay, Bo," I tried to soothe him. "You're among friends. Nobody's going to hurt you."
At this point the convicts emitted a large laugh. I couldn't help but wonder if they had already drawn straws to see who got to blow Bo's brains out for sport.
However, I was completely wrong. The source of their mirth turned out to be nothing like that.
"Lookit his dick," one of the convicts specified the cause for glee. "Damn dog's got a boner I'd be proud of."
While they all broke up, I reflexively looked down the front of Bo's erect body. There, at the crux of his haunches, was a pulsing hard-on that looked like it could rip a bitch apart.
"Looks like you got'm turned-on, baby," someone guffawed. "You oughta answer the door in somethin' besides that robe."
Now I looked down at myself. The hastily tied sash had come loose and the front of my robe was hanging open. My tits and pussy were there in plain sight for Bo to see, if that was what truly was making him horny.
"Take it all off," it was suggested. "Let's see what that damn dog'll do with a woman completely raw in front of him."
I felt I had no choice but to comply. This dog seemed like the key to things to me. I was becoming increasingly certain that if I could use his presence to stall, help would be on the way. I should be glad that the convicts were so amused by his reaction to me that they were willing to blow precious time they could have been utilizing to fortify their escape plans.
Dropping the robe, I stood totally stripped before Bo.
His raspy tongue went wild on my face, scratching me like wet sandpaper. At the rear, his bushy tail furiously wagged and between his legs, the column of his cock jerked like a missile trying to separate itself from its launching pad.
"I wonder if that mutt'd know what to do with the business-end of a chick," the apeman speculated.
"Only one way to find out," one of his confederates chuckled.
"Over on all fours, Mrs. Haley," a third convict hollered their conclusion to me. "We wanna see if the dog'll fuck you."
I looked toward their leering faces, searching for Ben King's eyes to flash me a message.
However, he was nowhere to be seen. In the confusion he had apparently slipped out of the room.
Perhaps he was flashing a signal right now. I couldn't take the chance that he wasn't. I had to allow him all the time possible.
Which meant, of course, that I had to leave myself open for the neighbor's German Shepherd to fuck me. Quite a price to pay but, after all, I told myself, it was nothing short of my life on the line. Under the circumstances.
Without hesitation, I pulled away from Bo's paws and dropped to the floor. On my hands and knees I presented with my ass in his face, Then I opened it and showed him the rearview of my cunt.
The convicts whooped and shouted. They loved it. But what about the damn dog? He was the one who counted.
I could hear him tentatively sniffing around. He was both wary and curious.
"Do it to her, you damn mutt!" somebody impatiently blurted.
"Shit, this dame is starting to turn him off!"
A couple of them booed and I started to get nervous. Things had suddenly hit a snag and something told me that if I didn't cajole this dog into fucking me I would be a dead duck.
What could I do to get this dog on top of me and alleviate the ill-tempered friction that had risen to the surface? These convicts were impulsive men. Men who frequently dealt with the most trivial frustrations in the most violent of manners.
Relax-and-enjoy-it wouldn't work here. I was going to have to work to make things turn out to my advantage.
I had two options insofar as seducing the dog was concerned.
One, I could just physically assault him; giving his dick so much rubbing and licking that he wouldn't care which species he fucked, just so long as the female representative's hole was wet and tight.
Two, I could use my brain to summon him to me. Come up with the key that would unlock his libido.
I decided on the latter approach because a misfire on the first would be dreadfully embarrassing and anyway something important had occurred to me. A significant clue in Bo's behavior.
It was true that he was reticent about humping me at the moment. But what about his initial reaction when he'd peered through my robe? And his excitement when I'd stripped?
It was clear from his past behavior that Bo definitely knew his way around a naked woman. He'd not only seen one, he'd been turned-on by one, apparently several times.
Sylvia! I thought of the name of my next-door neighbor and Bo's mistress. She must have a little game of teasing Bo when she's nude. I wonder how far it goes?
"Come here, Bo." I said in a voice that was pinched a half an octave higher to approximate Sylvia's. "Mama won't hurt you."
It worked. He came around in front and laid his head down against the floor so I could whisper in his ear. Apparently, Sylvia and Bo had quite a communication going for themselves. Well, that just goes to show that you can live next door to a person for years and not know what they're really like.
"Fuck me!" I rasped in Sylvia's voice without delay. "Do it to me the way you do when nobody's home, Bo!"
He let loose a whooping bark and jumped up, bounding over my body and landing at my flanks. Turning around, he flopped his bristly torso onto my back and dug his claws into my shoulder blades.
The most vigorous reaction, though, came from his prick. I don't know how much starch it lost while its owner was stalled, but in the last few seconds it had become harder than ever. The knotty head was beating a tattoo against my topsy-turvy vulva.
"Mama wants you to stick it in, Bo," I patiently instructed him. "Never mind all these men here, they won't bother us. Just do it like we were at home and all alone."
He whimpered what had to be interpreted as a dog's sigh of love. Old Sylvia really had this pooch wrapped around her little finger. No wonder she was so accepting of that workaholic she was married to, when she had action like this on the side. I was sure she was shoving Mickey out the door to go see his clients.
"Fuck me, Bo, fuck me!" I etched the bottom line with the closest approximation of my next-door neighbor's voice that I could manage.
The dog's massive prick slammed on cue into my cunt. Inch after inch of Iron meat surged inside and he was fucking me. Incredibly, I was letting myself be made love to by a drooling animal. And already I was coming.
"Deeper, Bo, deeper!" I cried, probably in my own voice this time. "The deeper you go, the harder I'll come!"
He seemed to understand me implicitly, immediately ramming his prick into me to the hilt and activating an unchartered cum far within me with the gouging head.
The walls of my senses came tumbling down, burying me in an orgasmic avalanche. I was gasping and writhing, wiggling and sweating. And screaming at the top of my lungs. Wails with the high-pitched volume of sirens. If there were any cops in the neighborhood, they would have to hear it.
And, of course, as usual, since it was happening during sex the boys did nothing. To their way of thinking, a woman who was in the throes of hot sex was a woman who could be trusted. She was getting what every woman wants, so why should she complain?
So I kept screaming. Yelling, "Harder! Harder, Bo! Fuck me harder," and things like that. I was a bitch in heat. Raising the roof with unrestrained cries of animal lust.
If the cops heard me, fine. If they didn't I'd go to my likely premature grave knowing that I'd had the most unique experience in my life before my chips were cashed in.
He had a knot in his cock. Some type of device nature had implanted there so that once there was phallic penetration into a female's cunt, withdrawal was virtually impossible.
The object of this phenomenon was probably to insure vaginal absorption of every drop of eventual cum. In other words, the knot in Bo's cock was probably meant to aid in contact.
However, when he was fucking a human pussy, the knot took on new and intriguing purposes. For one thing, it was a maddening chafer, setting up gales of friction at its rubbing point. For another, it pulsed like I had a beating heart lodged in my twat.
... But best of all, its throbbing steadfastness forced the phallic elongation of which it was part to remain locked in my pussy. Since I was eagerly awaiting the knot-dammed flood of cum, I guessed I wasn't too different from an ordinary bitch, after all. I was fanatically determined not to let a drop of Bo's jizz dribble from my snatch.
I began swinging my ass in a wide loop in order to stimulate ejaculation. I'd either drain Bo's fuzzy balls or twist his tool off.
He began moaning and groaning from my action, sounding almost human. I could just see Sylvia responding to this, whirling her ass faster and faster until her buns were a pink blur, trying to make her dog come in her cunt. I'd definitely have to get to know her better if I somehow came out of this thing alive.
But, for the meantime, I'd have to content myself by standing in for Sylvia. Responding as I knew she would.
I had to be her. Tighten her pussy muscles around the surging dick between my thighs.
Make the cum flow.
Bo grunted. He sounded more like an enraged bull now than an amorous German Shepherd.
His claws dug into my back, drawing blood, while his tongue rasped like a file against the nape of my neck. His breath was exhaling in increasingly explosive bursts. I could hear his heart pounding like the drums in a rock'n'roll song.
His balls drew into a block of granite and crashed against the outer petals of my snatch, instantly bruising them. Inside, his cock lurched in an expansive tremor and reached some virgin depth at the core of my being "Come!" I screamed. "Come in my cunt!"
Bo's cock didn't just erupt—it splintered. All of a sudden liquid slivers were puncturing the walls of my pussy. It was like sitting on a porcupine.
He had so much more cum than a human. Dogs normally have to wait until their bitches are in heat before they can drain their nuts. It only stands to reason that nature would endow them with a generous supply of jizz to make sure there are no slip-ups when they finally got around to fucking. Impossibly horny women like Sylvia—and I was wondering about me—were just the lucky windfall beneficiaries of this natural mutation.
The surging cum bloated my womb and even before Bo had stopped delivering his load it was backing up. Within seconds I would have to make good on my promise to myself not to let a precious drop escape.
The internal pressure built and built. Even as Bo's hard-on kept ejaculating, it was being forced out of my cunt by its own cum.
Finally, with just the head of his prick remaining inside me, Bo stopped coming. If he pulled completely out, it would theoretically be like pulling the cork on the pressurized contents of my bloated cunt.
With a loud pop the cock-head withdrew. However, in a feat of supreme muscle control, I slammed my pussy lips shut, sealing the canine jism within me.
I waited and waited for the inner force to subside. Slowly the dog's sperm seeped into my deepest nooks and crannies. And vaginal tissue absorbed it like a sponge. Gritting my teeth and inwardly suctioning, I was making good on the boast I'd made to myself that I could accommodate every drop of dog-cum.
At last the pressure diminished to the extent that the sharp ache in my loins disappeared.
Feeling confident that I'd reached my objective, I relaxed for the first time since Bo had come. Falling on my back, I lolled in the afterglow of a perfect fuck, even affording myself the luxury of spreading my legs so my cunt could re-open.
Not a drop of jizz trickled out. I had taken it all!