Gwen Anderson had lived in the same house now for over 60 years. She'd been there 25 years by herself, after her husband Chris had passed away after a massive heart attack. There were no children, as Gwen was unable to get pregnant and neither one of them wanted to adopt any children. They figured is Gwen was unable to get pregnant then they were meant to be childless. They had a good life, getting married just after Gwen turned 19. Chris was already 20 and they'd been dating, with their parent's permission, for over 5 years. Back then people just got married earlier and those marriages tended to be the ones where the couple ended up celebrating their 50th anniversary or longer.
Chris had been dead now for just over 26 years and Gwen had never found anyone else she would've even considered marrying. Her life was simple and she was use to being alone. The only person she really depened on any more was the man who lived next door, Douglas Denvers, a black gentleman of 82. While he couldn't do as much as he used to, he still managed to get some of the chores done around the house Gwen still occupied, and those were only small chores. With his advanced age, and the onset of Diabetes he didn't do as much as he one had, which suited him just fine. After all, he was no spring chicken any more, and his slowed speed tended to tell everyone that he was enjoying the 'lazy life', as he called it.
Douglas lived right next door to Gwen, in fact Gwen had helped him get the small home, which had only one bedroom, a dining/kitchen/living room combination and a small bathroom, which was all he really needed. Having secured a loan through the bank, thanks to Gwen's influence with the president of the bank, he'd lived a comfortable life and the place was now paid for, so he no bills other than the utilities each month.
The only companion Douglas had was a German Shepherd by the name of Trooper. Trooper was only about 3 years old, having been given to him by a friend who was moving and unable to take the animal with him. The two got along just fine and most evenings you'd find both of them in the living room, him watching TV, or sleeping, and Trooper lying at his feet, just keeping him company.
Gwen loved to have Trooper around her home, too. Many times when Douglas would go and visit his son and daughter-in-law, she'd take care of of the animal for him, and the two of them got along real well.
Yeah, REAL WELL!!!
A knock on the door wakened Gwen from the nap she was taking on the sofa in her living room.
"Just a minute," she called out as she got up, still groggy.
She slipped her feet into her house shoes at the edge of the sofa, got up and tightened her robe around her body, and headed towards the front door. Once there she was surprised to find Douglas standing there, Trooper on the his leash at this side.
"I hate to bother you Miss Anderson (he simply refused to call her Gwen, even after she insisted it was fine), but I got a phone call earlier and I have to go out of town for a week or two. Jefferson (his son) is in the hospital. He's had a heart attack and Sarah called me and wanted to know if I could get out there for a while. The doctors don't know if he's going to make it and she thinks it'll be better if I'm there. Do you mind watching Trooper for me while I'm gone?" he asked.
Opening the screen door and inviting them inside, she said, "You know I don't mind watching him for you, Douglas. I'd be more than happy to do that for you." They both sat on oposite ends of the sofa and continued their conversation. "When did he have the heart attack?"
"Don't know just now. Sarah found him in the garden yesterday when she got home from the grocery store and she wasn't sure how long he'd been there. She called the ambulance and got him to the nearest hospital, about an hour away. I told him to sell that place and move closer to the city, but would he listen to me? Nossir, he wouldn't. Guess he's as hard-headed as his daddy."
"Was she able to tell you anything at all?"
"It was hard to understand her, with all that crying, but she did ask me to come out there and I said I would. I'll be catching the bus in the morning and just wanted to make sure that Trooper was taken care of before leaving. I also wanted to let you know what was going on, too."
"Well, you know that all you have to do is ask. As long as we've known each other it's only right to help, especially at a time like this. Go on and get your packing done and please be sure to let me know when you get there, OK?"
"You know I will." He bent over and patted Trooper on the top of his head. "Now you be good while I'm gone, boy. I don't know how long I'll be gone, but I know you'll be in good hands with Miss Anderson here," he nodded her way, as if the animal could understand what he was saying. Douglas was convinced the animal understood his every word. He got up, as did Gwen, and they hugged each other before he went to the door.
"I'll just let myself out, Miss Anderson."
"Good bye, Douglas. Do be careful."
"I will." Before he opened the door, he turned back and told her that he would call as soon as he got there and would let her know how his son was doing."
"Good night, Douglas," she told him.
"Good night," he answered back.
In only a few minutes Gwen and Trooper were alone in the living room, her back on the sofa and him curled up and already sleeping on the floor...
It had all happened about 10 years ago.
One day Gwen was outside hanging her wet laundry on the line in the back yard. She was bent over pulling out her wet underwear, getting ready to hang it out in the dry, warm air. She had on her favorite print dress, the one with the daisys and rainbows on it, which hung loosely from her frame.
Gwen was never a big woman, the most she'd ever weighed was 125 lbs, and she never gained any weight, no matter how hard she tried. Chris had always tried to fatten her up, but to no avail. She stood just under 5 feet (4 feet, 10 inches) with jet black hair, which she wore cut short. Her butt was small and Chris had always teased her that she only had a handfull of butt cheeks to grab onto, but assured her that a handfull was all he needed. Her breasts were smallish, with nipples that stood out about an inch when erect and aeroles that were about 3 inches in diameter and a lighter shade of brown. Most of the time she went bra-less, since it was hard to tell if she was wearing one or not and besides that, she felt more comfortable without one.
Rambler, Douglas's second dog, a black Lab, was bounding around the yard chasing the squirrels and birds, as he always did. He was a very playful animal and Gwen loved having him around the house when Douglas was away. Without anyone else around the company was always welcome and she didn't feel as lonely with him close by.
She was bent over when she felt something hike up the back of her dress. Turning around she found Rambler at her heels. She pushed down her dress and shooed him away.
"What's getting into you lately, Rambler?" she asked. "You've done that a lot lately and I can't figure out why. I'd be embarrassed if you did that when someone was around," she said. She turned back to the laundry and forgot about it.
It wasn't 10 minutes later when Rambler did it again, only this time he'd managed to get his head fully under the dress and pressed his nose to her butt, scaring the hell out of her.
"Stop it!" she shouted at him and swatted at his head.
She finally got all her laundry hung out and was headed back towards the house when she saw Rambler rushing at her and, before she had a chance to react, he jumped up and knocked her down, her dress billowing up in the rush of wind he'd created and flew up over her head. From the waist down she was completely exposed to the elements, revealing that she had nothing on underneath. Her thighs were spread out from the fall, exposing the opening between her legs.
Rambler stuck his head between her legs before she could do anything and swiped his tongue over her mound.
"What in the hell is wrong with you, Rambler?" she shouted.
The dog growled at her, startling her for a moment. He'd never done that before and all she could do was stare at him, and wonder what he was up to.
Rambler never moved, having positioned himself between her thighs. He lowered his head again and once more swiped at her mound, this time darting out his tongue and penetrating her lips for the first time.
The oral contact jolted her like nothing since Chris had died, some 16 years earlier.
"No!" she screamed and pushed at Rambler, trying to push him out of the way.
Rambler wouldn't be moved. He briefly looked up at her and by the expression she saw on his face, she guessed it would be wise not to move.
Her intuition was right.
Rambler had gotten a wiff of her femine areas and it had piqued his interest in what was hiding under her dress.
Earlier in the day she'd gotten one of her 'spells' and nothing would seem to help until she's used her fingers on herself and climaxed for the first time in weeks. She knew she should do it, but the sensation helped her feel better and without a man around to take care of her 'feminine needs', what else was she to do?
She'd resorted to this method a lot lately and the itch was still there now, only muted a but. Still, the contact of Rambler's tongue against her labia had proved to be a downfall for her and her resistance immediately melted away and she allowed him to continue. It was only when his canine tongue lashed against her clitoris for the first time that she surrendered her body to him and let him do as he pleased.
.... There is more of this story ...