Trinity - Cover

Trinity

by Robin

Copyright© 2004 by Robin

Erotica Sex Story: A furry encounter told by the three involved in thier own words.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Furry   First   Bestiality   .

The same story told from three different perspectives


Cujo.

The door opened and my owner poked his head around the edge. It felt like I had been staring at the closed portal for most of my life, but of course, knew that it had only been an hour or two.

"Cujo; Come boy." His head disappeared from the left open door and unfamiliar scents wafted from the room beyond. I knew that he was not alone and that the other person was female. Her perfume had leeched through the gap under the door. The chemical mixture may have been attractive to his somewhat limited olfactory senses; to mine it was repugnant and did not improve when I followed him into the room.

John had introduced me to one or two of his lady friends and had even got me to play with them to the point of giving them the benefit of my tongue. Of course, it depended on how I liked them. I have to say that his choice in women had its flaws and most of them were no more than skin covered skeletons with no more life than a marrow bone. We had had some fun with some of them though and even had one or two come back for a re-run. I guess John liked his bachelor status because he rarely had them come back to our pied-et-tere more than twice.

This woman had all the hall marks of being a bimbo. Blonde hair, too much make up and cheap perfume all contributed to the supposition. Unfairly I guess, the fact that my introduction had her at the disadvantage of being completely naked and prostrated across John's leather sofa. I noticed a tattoo on her hip of a dolphin, jumping from a splash of water. It looked like the rest of her, cheap. Equally unfairly, I took an instant dislike to the girl and sat down resolutely, out of reach and disinterestedly scratched an ear.

John sat beside her; his hand caressed her thigh and then spread her legs so that he could access her sex. She was hairless, but thin stubble showed where she needed a shave. Her hair, if had been allowed to grow would be dark, so she wasn't a natural blonde. I notice things like that. If a dog could communicate with humans, it would tell you that humans rely too much on cosmetics and unnatural stimulants and far too much messing around with your natural state. I often wondered what you would be like kept away from baths and razors for any length of time.

Fingers had found her sex, parted her lips and with the dexterity of fingers, were frigging her while rubbing her clitoris with his thumb. I had heard her moans through the door; it was a familiar sound in John's apartment. The ministration of his right hand and then his tweaking her nipple with his free hand soon had her writhing as an orgasm approached.

I will let you into a secret, a female, regardless of species, carries a powerful aphrodisiac in her natural lubricant. Her sweat glands will have provided the initial attractant, but as she lubricates her sex, secret pheromones are released that no male animal can resist. For most of the animal kingdom, it only happens during their season or productive cycle, but the female of the human race has this hold over her mate, being able to enthral almost at will.

My own receptors registered her readiness to mate in a clarion call that spoke to me as loudly as if she shouted an inch from my ear. It is an undeniable attractant to me and, as her impending orgasm approached, proved to be a scent trail that irresistibly drew me forward.

John's fingers were buried inside her and his thumb was pressed firmly against her clit, rubbing in a circular motion. That's all very well to sex her up, but what a woman really wants is to be caressed with a warm and insidious tongue, especially as she squirts her most potent fluids.

I had to nudge his questing fingers away and then gave her a long and luscious lick that collected her essences in a single lash. She tasted better than she smelled and of course, her natural juice did its wonders to my taste buds. The next taste of her was followed by rapid tonguing that entered her sex and covered her clit. Her heat and smell were intoxicating, providing a heady mixture of scent that had my tongue slavering against her flesh.

The rasp of her stubble was actually quite nice as it irritated my top gum, but it was quickly becoming uncomfortable. To avoid the rough contact, I had to get up on the sofa and tilt my head back to get my nose out of the way and curl my lips back as if snarling into her depths. It had a salutary effect; my tongue passed her outer lips and found her inner being. She was hot and very wet from her own secretions and my saliva. I kept lapping at her, tasting her and knowing that she was climbing a crescendo of lust and wantonness. Her hips were raising, knees spread wide, and she was granting me full permission of entry and screaming her compliance in the act.

Then suddenly and with no warning, her knees snapped shut, trapping my ears between her thighs as her climax forged its way through her. A tide of her come flooded my throat and nose from the sheer force of the torrent. Trapped, I could do nothing about it for a moment except swallow her and try to clear my airway.

Just as suddenly, her back arched and a spasm rippled through her, releasing me and throwing her off the sofa onto the floor on her back. She twitched and writhed as if she were in seizure. Her lips pulled back in a rictus grin, hands forming fists on either side of her forehead, her breathing rasped between her even white teeth that were locked together. Her climax rippled and folded her, come leaking from her sex, pooled on the floor between her parted legs.

Gradually, she regained control of her synapses, her breathing settled and her lips covered her teeth in a tight line. She gasped something unintelligible and grasped John's arm in a vice like clawing grip. He kissed her and pried her fingers apart. The force of her grip had left bruises.

She fumbled for his cock, still on her back, her eyes tightly shut and screwed. Her eye paint had run in two dark stains to her ears. I cleaned up her come that had puddled on the floor. The salty tang was like a beacon to me and had my cock throbbing from its sheath. Her pheromones acted like a narcotic to my receptors, I had to have her beneath my chest while my forelimbs clasped her to me.

As if obliging or indulging me, she had turned while I was cleaning up and was now sucking John's cock. In turning, her knees had drawn up and her swollen and ready sex was there, just in front of my nose. To my canine instincts, this was an open invitation to copulate and I was more than ready to impregnate this bitch.

My first exploratory thrusts missed the mark and stabbed her anus and the folds of labia, I guess in my eagerness, I was not being too careful, but I had a mission and so took it a little more carefully, adjusting my self to fit her contours until I was sure of connection. Then, when I was certain, drove my shaft into her and buried the whole length up to my balls.

Once inside her, my forelegs grasped her hips and pulled her back onto my shaft, the position triggered the automatic response and I began to thrust in a rapid and frenetic blur.

John said something, even shouted it, she shook her head and sucked him into her throat.

The friction of her rippled vaginal walls and the pounding of my dick soon had my knot growing, I would not be able to keep up the furious pace, but needed to, to cause the locking mechanism that would signal my release of seed into her. As the bulbous swelling grew, the friction also increased until I was unable to pull it out of her. Then her muscles contracted, trapping me inside, it was the moment I had been working towards. Instead of pulling back, I pushed forward as she thrust back onto me. My forepaws had locked around her waist as I drove the last bit into her, feeling her insides open up to receive my seed.

I came. Flooded her insides with my hot fluids and heard her scream again as her own body worked in powerful contractions that milked my testes of all I had to give her. I wanted to bite her neck while in the throes of completion, but her head hang down and rested on the floor between her arms. I could smell John's semen and my own as some leaked from her bruised lips.

My dismount from her quaking body came quickly. Although we had been only briefly tied, it had been enough for my complete ejaculation and satisfaction. I cleaned her up and retired to my bed exhausted and happy.


Abigail.

The two lines hit fast. It had been some time since I had done a line or two, but tonight, fuck it, who cares? Not me for sure.

I was going out, something else I hadn't done in the longest while, all the time I had been with that asshole Deacon. Three fucking years I had devoted to the piece of shit, never once even looking at another guy, waiting home for him while he was out screwing every whore in town; well fuck you Deacon, I hope you rot.

I touched up the make up, knowing it made me look cheap, it was an effect I wanted and to help with the personality flip, had bought the smallest black number I could find with the lowest neckline and the shortest route to my cunt. I was going to get laid tonight come what may and I wasn't that particular about who it was going to be either, just so long as he was breathing and had a cock that worked.

I pulled on my new diamante thong over my ass, feeling the string nestle between but cheeks. Where the gusset and the thong joined was a thickness that rubbed seductively against the base of my pussy.

Jesus, I was already wet and I hadn't even gotten in the cab yet. God help whomever I should meet tonight, his balls are going to shrivel before I let him go.

Checking my purse, eyes and hair, I closed the apartment door and exited out onto the street. A Yellow had been waiting for me, the driver already tapping his watch, but hey, screw him, the price was fixed, so he could just go and blow me for the difference. He drove like a fucking lunatic through the dark wet streets and it was with a sense of relief that we eventually pulled up in a squeal of rubber outside "Luke's".

I used to party here before Deacon showed up, God rot his cock, I used to party here with my friends on Saturday nights, but he changed all that and then, drove them all away with his smartass mouth.

I flipped the driver the bird, he had already been paid by the controller, but was looking for a tip. The only tip he was going to get from me was lessons in social etiquette and driving courses.

"Luke's" had changed, well at least the décor had. The layout was basically the same, but lighting had been introduced along with a zillion speakers all on full blast. I think the ear shattering music was called grunge or house or some shit like that, not to my taste. I decided to down one vodka and anything with ice and see if I could find a more acceptable hunting ground. God, was I so out of touch in the last few years? Had it all changed so much? Or was I just older? Even the barkeep was spotty and several years younger than me. Little creep perved on my tits as I made my order, so I jiggled them and told him to make it a large one, with the emphasis on large. He got the message and filled a tumbler with vodka and dripped some blue syrup as a mixer; just how I like my vodka.

Glass in hand, I scoped the dance floor and immediately felt ancient. These were kids that gyrated in disjointed patterns. Some little bastard pinched my ass and was just about to get the standard issue back of the palm under the nose treatment that always resulted in lots of blood and a satisfying crunch; when he went down as if pole axed.

I hadn't noticed the guy who just saved the kid from a busted nose before. He smiled as he stepped over the prostrate kid and took my arm, leading me to the end of the bar and a quieter corner.

I finished my drink while appraising him over the rim of the glass and deciding he would more than do for the purposes of tonight's escapade. A white tee shirt struggled to hold all of his tanned and muscular body in and his blue jeans revealed a tight ass. Typical Californian beach jockey I thought and testosterone fuelled; perfect.

He bought me another drink and we struggled to make conversation, getting really only as far as exchanging names. Then he lightly grasped my elbow and tossed his head towards the exit by way of invitation to go someplace else. I wasn't about to argue.

 
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