Morning Heat
Copyright© 2026 by Just Another Smut Writer
Part 2: The Second Morning
Erotica Sex Story: Part 2: The Second Morning - The neighbor’s dog is in heat and Ashley knows what it is to want sex and not get it, so she helps Rex.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual Lesbian Heterosexual Bestiality Cream Pie Masturbation Oral Sex AI Generated
I woke up alone, the sheets cool where Michael should have been. My body felt heavy with that familiar ache, my nipples already tight against the lace of my babydoll. Hormones. They hit harder every morning lately, making my pussy throb before I even opened my eyes.
I padded barefoot to the kitchen. The fabric whispered against my thighs with every step. I made coffee, toasted a bagel, and carried everything out to the patio table. The morning air felt good on my bare skin. Rex trotted out behind me, tail wagging, nose already lifting toward the fence line.
I was halfway through my coffee when I heard him. That low, desperate whine. I looked up and saw him pacing along the fence, his red cock already half out of its sheath, thick and glistening as he stared toward Gretchen’s yard. My stomach tightened with a mix of disgust and something hotter.
“Rex,” I called softly. “Come here, boy.”
He glanced back but stayed where he was, hips twitching, cock swinging. I set my cup down and stood. The babydoll rode up as I walked over, cool air brushing my bare pussy. I knelt in the grass beside him and ran my hand down his back.
“Hey ... I know what you want,” I murmured, my voice low. “She’s not here, though. It’s just us.”
My fingers drifted lower, under his belly, and found the hot, slick length of him. He was already fully hard, the tapered tip leaking. I wrapped my hand around it and gave one slow stroke. Rex whined louder, pushing into my grip.
“That’s it,” I whispered, guilt already burning in my chest even as my hand moved. “Michael’s wife ... out here in her little nightie, stroking the dog’s cock. God, what’s wrong with me?”
I kept stroking, slow and steady, feeling every pulse and throb. Precum slicked my fingers, making wet sounds with each pass. Rex’s hips started to jerk. I could feel him getting close—the way his knot began to swell at the base, the way his breathing changed.
I thought about the taste. That thick, musky, salty-slick taste from before. My mouth watered. Without thinking, I leaned in, guiding the hot, leaking tip between my lips. My tongue pressed against the slit as I kept stroking him with both hands now.
“Come for me,” I breathed around his cock. “Give it to me ... all of it.”
Rex thrust once, twice, and then he was cumming. Hot, thick jets flooded my mouth—stronger than I remembered. I swallowed fast, throat working, but more kept coming. It spilled over my tongue, some leaking from the corner of my lips and dripping down my chin onto the babydoll. I kept sucking, kept swallowing, the wet, messy sounds filling the quiet morning air.
When he finally stopped, I pulled back slowly, strings of cum stretching from my lips to his cock. My chin was wet. My chest felt tight with shame, but my pussy was dripping down my thighs. I licked my lips, tasting him again, and swallowed the last of it.
Rex panted, licking my face. I stayed on my knees a moment longer, the babydoll clinging to my skin where his cum had landed, wondering how far I was going to let this go.
I went back to the patio chair, legs still shaky, and sank down into it with a soft sigh. The babydoll was already ruined—wet patches from Rex’s cum clung to my chest, and the hem had ridden all the way up my thighs. I didn’t bother pulling it down. My pussy was throbbing, slick and swollen, and the guilt only made the need worse.
I spread my legs wide, feet planted on the warm patio stones, and slid two fingers straight into my dripping cunt. The wet sound was immediate and filthy. I pumped them slowly at first, then faster, curling them to drag against that sensitive spot inside me. My other hand found my clit, rubbing tight circles while my hips rocked against my own fingers.
“Oh fuck ... I’m such a mess,” I whispered to myself, voice shaky. “Michael’s wife out here finger-fucking herself after swallowing the dog’s cum. God, what’s wrong with me?”
My hormones were raging, my neglected body desperate for every sensation. I added a third finger, stretching myself, the sloppy sounds growing louder as my juices coated my hand and dripped down to the chair. My thighs trembled. I was already close.
Rex padded over, nose twitching. He didn’t hesitate. His broad tongue dragged up from my entrance to my clit in one long, rough stroke, and I cried out. My fingers slipped away as I grabbed the arms of the chair and let him take over.
“Yes ... good boy ... lick it,” I panted, spreading wider. “Lick Mommy’s pussy ... oh god, just like that.”
Rex’s tongue worked hungrily, lapping at my folds, pushing between my lips, scooping up every drop of my arousal. Each pass over my clit sent sparks through me. I rolled my hips against his muzzle, the wet, obscene sounds filling the morning air. My first orgasm hit hard—my back arched, thighs shaking, a gush of wetness spilling out as I moaned loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. Rex kept licking through it, drinking everything I gave him.
I barely caught my breath before the second one built. “Fuck ... again ... don’t stop,” I gasped, grinding down on his tongue. My clit throbbed under every stroke. The second climax crashed over me even stronger, my pussy clenching and squirting a little more as I cried out his name. Rex lapped it all up, his tongue relentless, pushing me straight into a third orgasm that left me trembling and gasping, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes from the intensity.
When it finally ebbed, I slumped back in the chair, legs splayed, pussy glistening and dripping. Rex nosed at me gently, licking my inner thighs clean. Shame flooded in hot and heavy, mixing with the afterglow. I stared down at the dog between my spread legs, at the mess I’d made, at the sheer babydoll sticking to my skin.
I gathered my things with shaky hands—my empty coffee cup, the plate with the half-eaten bagel—and stood on wobbly legs. The babydoll clung to my thighs where my juices had run down. I turned toward the house, Rex following close behind.
For a second, I thought I saw movement through the narrow gaps in the neighbor’s fence—something shifting, maybe a shadow—but I told myself it was just my imagination. No one could have seen. No one would know.
I headed inside with Rex, the door clicking shut behind us, the taste of his cum still on my tongue and the guilt sitting heavy in my chest.
Mid-afternoon the heat between my legs had become unbearable. My nipples were tight under my tank top, my pussy slick and swollen in my panties from hours of simmering need. I couldn’t take it anymore.
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