Part 1: The Awakening

I sat on the patio in nothing but my thin robe, the morning sun warm on my bare legs as I nibbled at my bagel and sipped my coffee. The robe was all I had on because I always sleep naked, and the soft silk brushed my nipples every time I moved. Michael had already left for work, so the house was quiet except for the low, restless whine coming from Rex.

He paced along the fence, tail stiff, ears pinned, clearly agitated by the scent drifting over from the neighbors yard. Gretchen was in heat again, and the smell had my poor Golden Retriever completely undone. I watched him for a few minutes, guilt already twisting in my stomach. I knew exactly how it felt to be that horny and unsatisfied.

“Rex, come here, boy,” I called softly, patting my thigh. He glanced at me but stayed glued to the fence, nose working the air. I sighed and stood, the robe parting slightly at my thighs. “Come on, inside. You’ll forget about her once you can’t smell her.”

He ignored me completely. His cock was already half out of its sheath, pink and glistening, and the sight made my own neglected pussy clench with sudden, shameful heat. I told myself I was only trying to help, but the truth was I couldn’t stop staring.

I knelt in the grass beside him, robe pooling around my knees. “I get it, Rex,” I whispered, reaching out to stroke his head. “You’re so worked up. I know how that feels.” He turned and licked my cheek, a long, wet swipe that left my skin tingling. His whimper broke something in me.

I should have called the vet. Instead, my hand slid under his belly and found the thick, hot length of his cock. It was bigger than Michael’s—much bigger—and the realization sent a guilty pulse straight between my legs. I wrapped my fingers around it and started to stroke, slow and careful at first.

Rex let out a low, grateful sound and licked my face again, his tongue dragging across my lips. I kept pumping him, feeling the knot swell against my palm, the slick pre-cum making everything wet and messy. My robe loosened; the knot slipped free. Before I could pull it closed, Rex’s tongue found my bare breast and licked across the nipple in one long, loving stroke.

I gasped, but I didn’t stop. I stroked faster, my hand slick with his juices, while he licked my tit and whimpered against my skin. The guilt burned hot in my chest even as my pussy throbbed, untouched and dripping. I was helping my dog because he needed it, but the way my body reacted made me feel filthy and ashamed.

His cock jerked hard in my grip. Thick ropes of cum spurted across my fingers and onto the grass, hot and copious. I kept stroking through it, milking every drop while Rex panted and licked my face in messy gratitude. My hand was coated, the grass beneath us soaked, and I felt the first sticky trickle of my own arousal sliding down my inner thigh.

I stayed there on my knees, breathing hard, wondering what I had just done and why my body was still burning for more.

I gathered the dishes from the patio table, the sticky residue of Rex’s cum still clinging to my fingers. He padded after me into the house, tail low, still panting from what I had done to him. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, something reckless and shameful twisted in my chest.

I lifted my hand to my mouth without thinking. My tongue slid out and dragged slowly across my palm, tasting the thick, salty-slick mess he had pumped all over me. The flavor hit me hard—musky, animal, unmistakably his. A wave of disgust rolled through me, but right behind it came a hotter, needier pulse. I licked again, slower this time, savoring it. My stomach tightened with guilt even as my tongue kept working, lapping every drop until my skin was clean and glistening with my own saliva.

I stumbled into the living room and dropped into the armchair, robe falling open completely. My thighs spread on their own. I shoved both hands between my legs, fingers sliding through my soaked folds. I was dripping, my shaved pussy swollen and aching from the morning’s filthy act. I rubbed my clit in tight, desperate circles, hips jerking, breath coming in short gasps.

Rex padded closer, nose working the air. He pushed his muzzle between my thighs before I could stop him. “Rex ... no,” I whispered, half-heartedly shoving at his head. My voice sounded weak even to me. He ignored the push, tongue already dragging in one long, rough stroke from my entrance up over my clit.

I moaned, loud and broken. That wet, rasping heat was too much. My fingers slipped away and my legs fell wider. Rex licked again, firmer, the broad muscle pressing flat against my dripping cunt. I grabbed the arms of the chair and let him. He lapped hungrily, tongue pushing between my lips, scooping up my juices with every stroke. The wet sounds filled the room—sloppy, obscene, my pussy making a mess all over his muzzle.