Chapter 1

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Teenagers, Consensual, Romantic, Reluctant, Zoophilia, First, Masturbation, Bestiality, Squirting, Cream Pie, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Shey has always felt like more of a member of the pack, then a member of the family. Driven by a need to experience fully what it is is to be a bitch in a pack, Shey wants her dog Samba to be her mate. In order to do that though, she needs to find a way to complete the mating process. But Shey isn't just out to have her dog fuck her, she wants to be a wolf and when one thing leads to another, research and a lot of traveling late, Shey just might have her wish in a simply erotic way.

Ever since I was a baby, we have always had dogs. It wasn't a question of if we had a dog, it was a question of how many did we have. I was the middle child, the second daughter, I was nothing special to my family. While my sister and younger brother claimed most of the attention I was quite pleased with playing with the dogs in the house. We always had more than three dogs in the house at a time. We had three of our own, Montana, Scarlette, and Max, but upon that we also boarded other people dogs. I would spend hours out in the backyard playing with the multitude of dogs, I would crawl on my hands and knees whenever I could, and I even started to pick up on and imitate the sounds the other dogs made.

There weren't any windows allowing view into the backyard so I was free to pretend and act like one of the pack. Such a big part of me wished that I was actually a dog, but I was content enough with just being able to act like one and be accepted into the ever changing pack in our house. And I really was part of it. Growing up with my own dogs, I would see how they always dominated the dogs that came for boarding, and I started doing it myself.

At first the boarders would be surprised at a human growling on her hands and knees, but I would always be treated like another dog in the end. I would fight the other dogs in the backyard and run around with them, play fighting in the dirt. Even though I obviously lacked the sharp teeth and claws of the dogs, I had the advantage of strength and manoeuvrability to make the fight fair. The one thing that wasn't in my favour was my smooth bare skin, which often left me with bruises, scratches, and sometimes even scars – which were never pleasant to explain to my teachers. Whenever someone would ask why I keep playing with the dogs so roughly when I obviously get hurt, I could never explain it because I knew they would never understand. My own mother – who was as big a dog person as someone could get – would try to keep me from playing with the dogs whenever she could because she didn't like how we played.

I never did stop playing with them, they felt more like family than anyone else did. I never minded how they sometimes hurt me, the way I saw it was that they thought of me enough like pack and kike another canine that they had no issue play fighting with me like they would another dog. The few times that one of the males would mount me was when I would feel like I had truly been accepted as pack, and as a female dog, instead of as one of the humans watching over them. I had established a place in the pack, under Montana, Scarlette, and Max, but above everyone else if I chose it. There would only be a rare occasion when I wouldn't dominate a dog, and it was often times a male I fancied.

The one that I remember most was Harley; a very large, strongly but leanly built Golden Retriever. His coat was thick and full and an amazing shade of pale golden. Harley didn't have his manly parts but it was obvious his owners had waited till he grew into his full male coat before neutering him. He had an attractive head and a very proportionate body. He was smart and had a very calm attitude, though he could hold his own in a fight. All together he was a very well put together golden and he caught my eye immediately.

Like most of the dogs who came for boarding, he was wary of me and treated me like what I was, a human, but after a couple days he began to treat me and see me like a bitch. This would be the point where I would usually assert myself as dominant, but I let Harley presume the role a role of dominance. In just a week, Harley granted me the greatest acceptance as a real bitch that any dog could give when he mounted me.

It was an unusually cool summer day and all the pack was taking advantage of the breeze; running and jumping and playing, it was a very happy day for everyone. I had been play-fighting with Shanook, a female husky, when Harley came over and shoed her away. He sat down beside me, his shoulder at my head and I started to groom him, eventually he lay down and I made quick work of his face with my tongue. When he seemed to be asleep, I got up, intending to join in the tussling taking place across the yard, and the only warning I got was a rub against my ass before I felt Harleys full weight on my back. My elbows almost buckled under the weight but I held my own. He was heavy and I almost fell forward a couple times as he humped me, but I barely noticed; I was too pleased at what was taking place.

When he seemed to have had enough he backed off a couple feet and laid down, panting. I lay down with him and pressed against this back. I wasn't the least bit ashamed or embarrassed. Harley clearly saw me as enough of a real bitch to treat me as one and I was ecstatic. He did it multiple more times over the course of two weeks and many of the male dogs that we boarded started to recognise me as Harleys bitch and would avoid me when he was around. I didn't think of it much at the time as I was young and didn't truly know what a mate was, but Harley was treating me as his mate. In a way, I'm glad I didn't understand the concept of the word mate, because when he left, it hurt enough just thinking of him as a preferred male.

When Harley left, it hurt. He had been with us for little over a month and I let myself grow far too attached. He had stayed far longer than any other male who I had let dominate me, and he was the only one I had chosen to actually mount me. From that day forth, I dominated any male who came for boarding. My life as part of the pack went on as normal, only changing when Harley would come for boarding again and I would act as his mate. Harley had been 10 the first time I met him, so it came as no surprise when he died two years later, but it hurt none the less. I chose to never get as close to another dog as I did Harley, and I was happy.

My pack life was the best it could be, but my human life left much to be desired. During the winter months and when it was raining, when the dogs were inside most of the time, I would crawl around with them and my family members would laugh at me and call me weird. I didn't care really but when my mom demanded I "get off the fucking floor" and "act like a girl", I hated her. My school teacher would call home and complain about my barking in class, and growling at other students. It was fine when I was in grade one and two, because come on, what kid doesn't act like a dog every once in a while? It was when I was in grades three and four that my teachers would really complain. The day I realised that I needed to keep my canine half hidden from people was recess one summer in grade four.

A couple friends and I were playing house, and I obviously acted as the family pet. I wouldn't let anyone else take the role, their inaccuracy as a canine infuriated me. I was playing the excited puppy and running around with a friend acting as a daughter to the makeshift family. It was fine, all fun and games, till I pulled her to the ground, jumped on her, and started licking her face. She was in a fit of laughter, giggling and wiggling, and honestly having a good time. Her sister though wasn't in good spirits. She pushed me off my friend and gave me a disgusted look, and yelled "I can't believe you just licked my sister..." in my face, all the while I sat on my ass in the grass. She didn't have to finish the sentence, I knew what she was going to call me. Freak.

I stopped playing the dog after that. I didn't bark another word, and I only played my canine role when the others were to. My mom was happy, she didn't get any more concerned calls from teachers, but I felt like I had just had a right of mine taken away. My families tolerance for my canine behaviour was slowing losing diminishing too, to the point where I needed to cut off the behaviour to when I was outside, and when I wasn't in the sight of anyone. Years went by and my pack related interaction with the dogs became less and less as that level of interaction became less and less tolerable and acceptable. I was becoming a human again in the eyes of the dogs, and I hated it completely.

When my mom stopped boarding completely to take up breeding golden-doodles, my heart nearly broke. The promise of puppies though was one that made me smile. I was old enough to be left home alone to watch the puppies and whenever I was, I took the opportunity to act canine. The puppies grew up with the impression that I was slightly less human than the others and it was enough to tide me over; though I always did feel like something was missing. I wanted a pack again, and most importantly I wanted to be able to act like pack again. I was jealous of the relationship Scarlette and Montana had with Max and I felt like was torn away from my real family. So many times I would cry myself to sleep and wish that I could be dog. My family had ignored me so much in the younger stages that I had grown learning from the dogs. I was an abomination. I had to study the behaviour of the people around me intently to imitate it, and it took me twice as long as it should have to make fiends. I didnt care who was funny or pretty or this or that, loyalty and if they were dependable mattered, and that wasn't the way people worked apparently.

So many of the human traits I learned later in life shocked me. People chose partners for their beauty or strength, group leaders were chosen by who had most popularity. I was an outcast at school because I was used to the ways of dogs, not of my own species. The hardest part was the noises I made. Whenever I wanted to growl or whine, I had to remind myself that hey, I'm human, and humans don't make those noises. At the age of thirteen though, I had finally gotten acting like a girl down pat. I made 'friends' and mingled at school easily, and I could talk for hours with friends about things that didn't interest me at all simply because that was what was normal. Only when I was alone was I safe to be my canine self and act as true pack to my dogs. I wasn't necessarily happy with the ways things were, but I was stable and I couldn't complain. Max had died and now it was just us three bitches running the house, occasionally controlling a litter of pups.

It wasn't until Crammer, one of Montana's first puppies, came for boarding, that I realised there was still a hole in my heart left behind by Harley. Crammer took no time at all in filling the hole. He only ever came for boarding for days at a time, but still, I considered Crammer my mate, as I understood what the word meant. I knew dogs didn't really have mates, wolves did, but I chose Crammer as my mate, and in some ways, I tried to convince myself that he chose me as his, even though I knew he didn't, couldn't. He definitely liked me above every one else, even Montana and Scarlette, but I was able to admit to myself that Crammer wouldn't never truly be my 'mate'. I kept our relationship hidden and when we were alone I acted as his soul bitch. Not once did he mount me though, and although it was displeasing, I accepted it. I had done the smart thing by not setting myself up for heartbreak again because we moved to Shwasten, an hour away, not three months later. I never saw Crammer again.

My luck was about to turn though, because my mom got an opportunity to make $3000 a month boarding a field golden retriever names Samba. His owner had a wife in another country that was about to have their baby, and didn't want to bring Samba. We were only supposed to take care of him for three months, but three turned into five and I grew attached not only with a canine personality, but as a human as well. When the man came back and took Samba away, I was only happy because he told us that in two months he would be needing us to board Samba again. When the owner came back the second time, we told him if he ever needed a home for Samba, we would take him. The man made me year when he said he would be happy to give us Samba, and he signed Samba over exclusively in my name. Three years later and Samba and I have a relationship stronger than that of Harley and I.

Sambas thick golden orange coat was soft in-between my fingers. I stroked my hand up and down the side of his body; all the way from his rump to the top of his head, and back down again. The same routine every night.

Samba would sit on the floor patiently, wagging his tail, and waiting for me to crawl into bed first. Once I was laying on my side, facing him, he would jump up without being invited and lay down beside me; his back flush against my front so that I was the big spoon and he the little. It isn't a matter of speaking either, Samba really is little. Being an American field golden he's supposed to be on the smaller side, but he's unnaturally small for a male, especially since he has his balls still.

He didn't make a sound as I stroked my hand through his fur. Every now and then his back leg muscles would stiffen when I brushed my hand over his hip. He was in a fight with our female Labrador Brandy and she had hit him quite hard in that area. He walked funny for a little while after that, and even though he's completely recovered, that area I think will always be sensitive.

I know what you're probably thinking; why did my female dog pick a fight with my non-neutered male dog? Well, like I said, Sambas small, and Brandy just doesn't like him, at all. She's spayed so she doesn't feel properly for him like a female should. I resent her greatly for it.

Without thinking about what I was doing, my hand slid farther down Sambas stomach till I was stroking the fur from his chest to the base of his shaft. I frowned when he didn't even respond to the touch.

So many stories I had read on bestiality and people coupling with their pets gave off the impression that all I had to do was touch Samba in an intimate manner and he would be jumping up and down, barking with anticipation of mating with me. No such damn luck. I knew most – if not all – the stories were fiction, but still, that didn't stop the hope from springing up inside me.

Don't get me wrong, I had tried many different things to attempt to get him excited; rubbing his shaft up and down, poking my finger into the opening of his shaft, one time I even pulled back the shaft enough to see the tip of his penis and licked it. Nothing ever came of it except Samba giving me one of those "what the fuck are you doing? People are fucking weird" expressions.

It would aggravate me to no end whenever our other female dog Stella came into heat. Samba would give her every ounce of his attention. Always around her and mounting her. His penis seemed to always be around if she was anywhere within smelling distance. I knew that there was nothing anyone could do to stop it, Stella was in heat and Sambas was fully male; it was purely instinct that drove him. No matter how much I knew that though, I would always feel this surge of anger whenever Stella went near him like the wanton bitch in heat she was. I resented her to no end. The only thing that gave me relief was that Stella was too tall for Samba and he could never get his penis in her. In the back of my mind I knew that if she became pregnant, I would despise the litter.

Ever since I first grew attached to Samba, those three years ago, I had always felt my bond with him as much more than just owner and pet. In secret I acted as pack and claimed him as my mate as much I could. Every oter day of the year, Samba was mine; he followed me around the house, would sit outside the bathroom door, whine if I shut my bedroom door on him, and wait at the window to watch for me walking home from school. If we were sitting on the couch he would snap at Brandy and Stella if they came to close, and although he isn't dominant over them, they would stay clear and back off. Even with that knowledge in mind, for the small period of time that Stella dragged his attention away and was able to arouse him I was furious. I was jealous. The canine part of me wished that Samba would be aroused by my own advances, but he never was. Relief from my agitation with Stella came to an end when my mom finally got her spayed.

My hand was resting on his rib cage and the slow fall and rise of his breathing let me know that he was sleeping. I buried my nose in the thickness of his neck and tangled my fingers his under-fur. I knew that I couldn't call Samba my mate, not matter how much he already acted like it, no matter how much I wanted it, until we truly mated. My success in the matter was looking bleaker and bleaker the more time went on, and the sexual frustration rising in me was becoming annoying. Just laying beside him like this while he slept made my lower region tighten. I pressed my groin against his rump. I whined, the sound turning into a growl as the hope for mating with Samba turned into frustration.

The next morning I woke up with Samba lying on my feet. My alarm didn't wake him, as it never did, and he didn't budge when I reached down to stroke his head. His tail started t beat the bed through when I slid my hand under his chin and stroked my fingers across the other side of his muzzle. His eyes opened when I got out of bed and the whole time I changed he watched me with curious canine eyes. I had seen his lust filled eyes, but never when he watched me change. Never when he watched me period.

I left the room and Samba followed me all around the house until I completed my morning routine and headed to school.

I was an okay student. Unlike more than half the kids at my school I came to school sober, unaffected by weed, and I actually paid attention in class. I had no clique, no group of friends. The people I spoke to, I only spoke to in class and I ignored with graceful precision in the halls; they weren't the kind of company I wanted.

I wasn't much for participating in class discussions, but my science teacher had begun a topic of animal sciences that sparked my interest in more than one way; hormones.

"You see, animals emit scents that mean different things to others of their species. Animals emit these scents for things like anger, or love. It's not hormones initially that lead to mating between animals, it is initially the scent a female gives off that ignites the males hormones"

I knew everything that my teacher was saying, but actually listening to her say it out loud got the gears working in my brain and a plan started to ignite. For the rest of the day I was pre-occupied by the thoughts and ideas I was working up.

I didn't go straight home after school like I planned; I was too excited at the thought that my idea might work that I ignored the idea of changing clothes.

"so ... what do you need dog hormones for?" the guy at the Animal World check out sounded more board than curious, but I figured I needed to answer as not to draw suspicion.

"There's a coyote that's been terrorizing our neighborhood, so we're gonna try and catch it with this." A well thought out answer that received no more than a small nod.

I paid the cashier and headed home with one of the most genuine smiles on my face than I'm sure I'd had in years.

Samba was thrilled to see me when I walked in. He jumped up and down and yipped at me. There weren't any cars in the drive way so I was safe to yip back happily and immediately get on my hands and knees and start wrestling with him. I abandoned my bags on the floor and forgot my life for the little while that I had to be a member of the pack. Brandy challenged to a fight but I threw on a sweater before engaging her. The thick fabric was annoying to wear while play fighting, but I couldn't have any marks on my skin if I didn't want to be asked questions. After a half hour of playing with my pack sisters and my hopefully soon-to-be mate, we all lay scattered across the living room. Samba was the only one who didn't want his own space and although I would have liked mine being that I was hot and sweaty, I allowed him to lay beside me with his thick hair keeping my side hot. We stayed on the floor till the familiar sound of car wheels on the driveway alerted us to someone being home.

I sprung up from the floor faster than I should have and the world spun for a second. I slid into the kitchen and quickly took my things into my room, hiding the Animal World bag and its contents in my locked chest under my bed. I would need to wait till tomorrow to use it.

Apparently the sound of tires was just someone turning around perhaps because when I got to the door, there wasn't a car in site. I breathed a sigh of relief even if the chances of anyone finding what I'd bought were slim to none.

We spent the rest of the afternoon alternating between play and rest. I took them outside to pee a couple times and fed them while I enjoyed a couple plain waffles for dinner. My mother and step dad were probably not going to be hoe till late depending on how long the party they were at lasted. The path had the house to itself and I allowed myself the rare freedom to act as I please. I tried to initiate a couple mating sessions with Samba when Brandy and Stella left us to ourselves, but, to no avail. My disappointment was only less due to the hope I had for tomorrow.

I let all three dogs sleep in my room that night; Brandy and Stella sharing the bed on the floor and Samba obviously taking the bed with me. I definitely was a pack animal and I wasn't okay with being alone in the completely empty house, knowing that my family was there gave me a heavy sense of security and I fell into sleep right away.

The morning brought promise something I had wanted for so long. At ten in the morning y mom was already up and getting ready to leave the house. Every Saturday she went back to our old city to visit friends and last night I had texted asking to accompany her with Samba so we could visit my old favourite park. She said yes quickly, happy to see that I wanted to willingly leave the house and walk in nature. Our house now isn't close enough to any forests to make a daily trip out of it, but our old house was a two minute walk from a park that had a small piece of land that kept its forest lushness. The trails were unkempt by the government and overrun by greenery. I never encountered anyone there and it became my favourite place to be because I could bring my dogs and we could be a pack in among the foliage, like a real pack.

I got ready in five minutes flat, making sure to pack a pair of thick yoga pants, thick socks, and a tank top that could reach down to my ass. I threw on a pair f shorts and a blue logoless top. I piled my hair in a messy bun and shoved my phone in my back pocket. I was so excited that I almost forgot the Animal World bag. I grabbed it and shoved it under my clothes in my backpack. Mom already had breakfast waiting for me when I entered the kitchen, she obviously didn't want to wait for me to make breakfast for myself.

"You've got two minutes to eat before we leave." My mom muttered partially while she ushered away into her room.

I stuffed a toaster pancake in my mouth while I poured some dog food from under the counter into Sambas bowl. I threw my other two toaster pancakes into his bowl as well; I was too nervous to eat. I poured another two cups of dog food into a baggy and put it into by backpack for later in case he got hungry. I was hoping that we would be doing things that would make him starving.

We drove the hour to Tenonto City in mostly silence, aside from my mom occasionally picking up random meaningless conversation. I was thrilled when we started to make our way down the winding streets towards Houston Park. Samba was excited and curious, he'd never been to Tenonto and the new scenery would be any dogs play ground. I knew he would love my secret forest.

"I'll be back to pick you up around eight, okay? Love you sweetie, bye!" she yelled from the car window as she drove away. I waved and watched as she disappeared around the corner.

It was barely five minutes before we reached the incredibly steep hill leading into my part of the forest. That's part of the reason why I think this place is so unpopular. The only way in is to risk your life going down a very steep hill layered with nothing but dirt, mud, and rock, unless you fancied a swim in the stream that surrounded this whole section of the forest. After multiple times of coming up and down the hill, I was an expert at where to step, what tree to grab and which one not to grab. Samba slid down most of the way though and I got a good laugh looking at his dirt filthed rump feathers.

It was a short walk through thick brush to get to me favourite part of the forest and I kept Samba on a leash mainly because he was new here and I didn't want to lose sight of him until we were in the area I knew most. When we finally broke into the clearing I breathed a sigh of relief. For so long this place had been where I would escape to breathe and be myself. It was a place that I held, and still hold dear to my heart.

I let Samba off and immediately he started tearing around the small clearing, peeing on everything and claiming the area, although a couple times he would sniff something then look at me and yip excitedly; no doubt he was smelling some of the very old spots where I had peed in attempt to claim this place as mine. I let Samba stake claim to my place, if we were to be mates, soon we would share the same scent anyway. Hopefully after today other dogs would insinuate my scent with Sambas.

I let Samba have his time to learn the area and pee on practically everything. After ten minutes I changed from my shorts and shirt to yoga pants and tank top. I stripped my shoes and replaced my ankle socks with my thick ones. I tied my hair back again in a tight bun to keep the hair from my face. Usually I would have just stayed in the shorts and gone barefoot and maybe even topless, but I couldn't risk staining my skin green for when mom picked me up. At least if its just my knees I can say I fell.

As Samba ran past again I leapt on him. He yelped in surprise and we rolled in the soft grass for a couple feet. He jumped up immediately and we started wrestling. On my hands and knees my shoulder was at his, and Im sure I could have easily beat Samba had I wanted to but I let him dominate me and take over the position of alpha as he always did when it was just us two. After we wrestled for a bit we seeked shade out of the hot sun and we lay together. Samba licked my shoulder and arms clean from dirt before sprawling out to soak up some of the coolness from the earth. I copied his movements and began to clean some of the twigs and leaves and bits of grass that could only collect in his thick fur. I had to lick the grass a few times t rid my tongue of his shedding hair but I didn't mind; this was what mates did. I loved Samba and I wanted him completely. After today I was sure, if everything went as planned, that Samba and I would be true mates and lovers. I desired his company more than any other mans and the warmth of his tongue was a greater caress than that of any hand. The wag of his tail gave me more happiness than anyones smile.

When Sambas breathing softened I got up and quietly picked my way over to my bag. I dug the Animal World out of my bag. I wasn't sure how strong the scent was, but I knew it wouldn't be the taste of the goop that would make him want to mate me. Keeping an eye on Samba I stripped my pants and tank top off, followed by my panties and bra. I rolled in the grass softly for a second, enjoying the feeling of it tickling my skin. I laid back in the grass and started playing with myself to get my juices flowing. I was already wet with anticipation but I wanted to be sure Samba could smell and taste my arousal easily. I already knew he liked the taste of my juices; one night after I had pleasured myself, I put my fingers, sticky with my juices to his nose and he had lapped at my fingers greedily. Samba raised his head to see why my breathing had quickened but he didn't spend to long before he lay flat again.

Before I got too excited to orgasm, I stopped and twisted the cap off the container. The scent smelt exactly as Stella did when she was in heat, maybe just a little stronger. I dipped a finger into the goop and withdrew a small lump of it, smearing it above me cunt. I yipped once and Samba got up and trotted over, he only took a couple steps before raising his nose in the air and sniffing. His tail twitched and he paced around a bit. I yipped again and he made it over distractedly. It was obvious that he smelt a bitch in heat, but he seemed confused and whined when he made his way over.

I screwed the lid back on the container and shoved it back in my bag before throwing it a couple feet away. I got on my hands and knees when Samba got close and raised my ass so that my cunt was exposed to him. He sniffed around me a couple times, his tail wagging like propeller. He whined and jumped about, unsure. I whined to him, and gave a breathy noise I had heard Montana use one tim with an injured pup. Samba seemed to calm down, but only slightly. He finally approached my rear, where the strongest scent was coming from, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when his cold brushed my cunt lips. I imitated the mating sounds I remembered and it seemed to excite Samba even more. He was sniffing my cunt deeply, and when he stepped back I was afraid my plan had failed. At least until I felt the stab of his warm long tongue, probing my pussy lips. If I had been human, I would have moaned, but I was more canine than human right now. A deep, long whine, the transitioned into a growl left my throat and Samba replied with his own growl and a quick lick to the flesh on my ass.

This was really it, I was finally going to have what I had wanted since I decided Samba was the one. What I had wanted for so long. I was nervous, I was a virgin, and I knew that dogs didn't understand the concept of waiting till said vagina expanded to fit said penis. I was literally shaking with nerves, but I wanted Samba do much to turn back. All thoughts of reluctance left me when I felt Samba step forward so his chest was against my bare ass. A second later his front paws were around my waist and digging into my inner thighs. He made a couple jabs but was always hitting to high, stabbing me painfully with the hard tip of his penis. He was used to having to aim high to attempt to get Stella. I couldn't wait for him to hit the mark so I reached between my legs to grab him. He was thick and warm, and I shivered when I felt the tip brush the entrance to my vagina when I guided him towards my cunt. As soon as he felt the slickness of my cunt, he thrust forward hard and fast. I was expecting pain, but Samba wasn't fully erect yet so I didn't feel his full length. What I did feel though was beyond comprehension. He was fast and quick with his thrusts, the slickness of his penis sending chills through me every time he thrust back in. I felt him growing inside me as he thrust and it almost dulled the pain, giving me time to adjust as he slowly grew in thickness and size. I was panting hard and so was he, saliva dripping onto my back and making my skin hot. I didn't know how long he would grow to, but his size was unbelievable as he kept growing. My panting moans turned into whines and barks as the pleasure continued to grow. His speed and ferocity picked up till he was hitting me so hard in the backside I needed to push my arms forward to keep from falling forward.

Sambas penis reached its limit it seemed and that when felt the swelling. I knew what it was; it was the knot. It seemed like only seconds had gone by and yet already his knot was beginning to form. Samba stepped back so that I couldn't feel the knot slipping inside me anymore and I was afraid he would wait too long to put it in and he would hurt me by trying to force the huge knot in. I didn't need to worry though because he suddenly thrust forward, hard and fast, so that his knot fit into my cunt swiftly. I felt the knot swell as Sambas thrusts became short and quickened, unable to pull back any farther without hurting the both of us. The knot kept growing and stretched my inside beyond anything I could have imagined. I didn't think about how big the knot would get, but this was huge from what it felt like. I had the most explosive orgasm and I threw my head back and howled, unable to contain the amount of pleasure I was feeling. I felt spent, but when I felt the gush of hot semen as Samba came to his release to, another earth shattering orgasm wreaked havoc inside me.

My whole body shook, and it was hard to keep my arms steady enough to stand. Both Samba and I were panting hard and fast. He was able to slide his leg over my back so that we were rear to rear. My eyes felt heavy, I wanted to lay down and sleep, rest, regain energy and be able to really think about what had just happened. I don't know how long we stood like that, but I figure it was somewhere around fifteen (15) minutes. I could feel our mixed juiced moving around inside me, held inside me by the blockade that was Sambas knot. When it finally began to shrink I could feel the overflowing juices leaking out of my cunt and dripping down the inside of my leg. Samba was finally able to free his penis and he hastily sat down to clean himself up. I couldn't have been bothered to clean myself up even if I had been able to. I crawled a couple metres farther into the thicker grass and plopped down, letting my eyelids fall closed. I was out like a light.

I woke up to a buzz between my legs. My swollen pussy lips were being messaged and I growled in appreciation. I rolled farther on my side and lifted my leg like a dog having its belly tickled. Samba yipped happily and returned to cleaning my properly used cunt. He was laying so that he had clear access to me so I ended up looking at a fluffy butt when I opened my eyes. I squinted, preparing my eyes for harsh day light, but was met by the soft light of a setting sun. I jumped in and ran towards my bag. Samba barked in surprise and followed suit. I immediately grabbed for my phone, ignoring the aches in my lower region. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw that it was already nine forty five (9:45). I had five texts from my mom and I was already beginning to imagine how dead I was.

Mom: Hows things going?

Mom: Everything good?

Mom: running late

Mom: gonna be late. Probably around ten. That okay?

Mom: okay? Hello?

I fell backwards into the grass, Samba nuzzling against my side and licking my sticky skin. I texted saying no problem. My heart rate slowly returned to normal. Samba started sniffing around my cunt again and I growled and snapped at him. He stepped back and whined before creeping forward again and licking my face. I returned the caress and although I felt bad for denying him another mating, but we only had fifteen minutes to get back and I still needed to make myself look presentable in shorts and a shirt.

I used my tank top and water from the creek to wash off as much of the green from my knees as possible and to clean some of the blood and sticky juices from my legs. The whole time Samba sat at the bank and watched me intently, never letting his gaze trail off me for more than a couple seconds; I loved it.

I put my shorts and shirt back on and Samba growled when he went to sniff my crotch and was met by the jean fabric. I felt bad, but at the same time I was thrilled. This was what I wanted, him treating me like a mate, not an owner or just a regular pack member. I just hoped that when the artificial scent wore off, that he would still want to mate with me.

We made it back to where my mom had dropped us off just in time to see my mom pulling up to the curb. Samba hopped into the back when I opened the door and turned to look at me hopefully. To my mom's confusion and utter shock I hopped in the back with him and patted my lap. He crawled over and put his head in my lap, nuzzling his head against my skin and licking the flesh uncovered by my shorts.

I knew then, watching him sleep and knowing he was content with mating with me, that I didn't care if he mated with me again. Having him there was enough, and I knew he would feel the change in both of us now. I was utterly content and joyous.

I had him, my love, my Mate.

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