Chapter 13

He feels the radiant heat next to him, the best part of any dream. He feels something wet on his nipple, circling, lapping and even nipping. That wet tongue slips down his belly until it reaches his balls. The licking is so soft and tender despite the roughness of the tongue.

In his dream, Alan’s mother is bathing his cock with her tongue, worshipping it like a woman dependent upon it for life. He feels her heat on him even more. That rough tongue is all over his balls. She feels the roundness and fullness of them under her ministrations. But this isn’t a dream.

Alan reaches down as his conscious mind begins to take over more from the subconscious’ grip of it. His hand brushes along a head and right away he knows he is getting a morning blowjob. What could be better than that? He places his hand over the head and helps to try guiding it so that the tongue on his balls doesn’t stop. But the more this goes on and the more his sense of touch improves, he realizes that there is something wrong. The tongue bathing his balls so gloriously is too rough. The head he has a grip on is too furry and too misshapen. He opens his eyes and looks straight into Sandy’s.

For a moment Alan is completely shell shocked. His first reaction is to push the dog off of him and begin yelling his disgust and complaints. But that set of emotions quickly dissipates into something else. Why he does it, Alan doesn’t know. Instead of pushing Sandy away, he embraces her and her actions. His hand goes to his cock as he eyes wonder over the beautiful dog, glazed with lust. They drops to her mouth and that rough, lapping mouth muscle to is stroking and bathing his sack. He reaches to touch her mouth. His hand smells a lot like pussy from Kennedy. He watches as her tongue come out to touch his fingers. He circles her mouth before sliding a finger slowly into her mouth. That’s it, this is all it takes. His hand grasps his cock and begins stroking it.

The man’s legs spread apart further. He bends his knees a little up. As he is bathed with hot, turgid licks his hand pumps away with ferocity. Sandy seeing his eagerness moves away from his sack to starts licking at his hand. Alan gets the idea of what she wants and lets go of himself. Her rough mouth muscle takes over where he has left off. The man moans as his manhood is smothered in hot dog drool. He moans each time her head comes up with her tongue slowly along every inch. She takes the tip of his prick into her mouth when her tongue laps and wraps around the end of it. She seems to want to devour him. It’s pleasure, pure and simple. It may a dog, but strangely enough it may be better than a human. It is certainly different.

Sandy doesn’t stop. She licks and nips, strokes and slathers. Seeing the end of his member disappear into her mouth is just as exciting as seeing her lick his entire length. Alan adores her for doing this. He begins to hear her rough breathing and wonders if she is enjoying this as much as he is because of the pleasure of doing it, or is it simply because of the taste. Maybe it’s just some animalistic instinct on Sandy’s part. Does it really matter?