Chapter 43

Debbie eventually finished up with her work, though it did take her several more hours. Of course, had it not been for Alan’s interruption she might have been finished a lot sooner. But it wasn’t just his showing up and fucking her that did it, it was her thoughts afterward. Well, not just those either. The woman was so aroused and ready for more that her mind was consumed with thoughts of both him and what they did that she had to stop several times to masturbate. Each time she brought herself to orgasm, yet each time it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the one Alan brought her to.

Once she was done, she called him. They met at a restaurant close by and had a pretty nice dinner together. Again, it was rather hard for Debbie to concentrate when all she wanted to do was fuck the man. Alan could see that she was antsy and he purposely engaged in as much conversation with her as he could manage before it became evident no amount of talking was going to push off the inevitable. He paid and they left her car behind. Debbie couldn’t wait. She was in his pants the moment the car was in drive. The blowjob was perfect—so perfect that Alan had to pull into an alley and finish by fucking her from behind with half her body sticking out the passenger window.

They didn’t make it anywhere close to the bedroom when they got back to his place. In fact, with the door left wide open, they fucked right there in the entryway. Their escapades carried on further into the house, stopping along several point along the way before finally ending in the bedroom. Neither one of them were concerned about the world around them. They acted like teenagers with the parents gone and the whole house to themselves or like two older parents whose children have finally left home and the house is all their once again. Neither had seen Sandy and how she watched them every step of the way. The dog was like a chronicler, keeping track of every detail, every movement and action, every word spoken.

Eventually, Alan and Debbie were finally spent. Clothes are scattered, along with their fluids. It is sometime late when Alan wakes from a sound sleep. There is an urge to release a bladder full so he disentangles himself from the warm body in his bed and pads to the bathroom for relief. He finds it odd that he did not see Sandy lying on the bed or on the floor near it. The longer he stands in front of the toilet, the longer he has to think. Not seeing his dog in the bedroom really bothers the man. They have been developing something special and tonight he just totally blew that off. He didn’t once think about how it affected her. He didn’t take into account her feelings at all.

He finishes and shakes. He turns to go back into the bedroom, back to bed and back to the woman occupying it. But something outside, through the window to the backyard, catches his eye. He stops to look, willing his eyes to adjust and focus. It is Sandy, and she is sitting on the patio, staring up at the stars. He swallows hard. Right now Alan has a choice. He can just go back to bed and cast aside his thoughts and feelings about Sandy or he can go out there and apologize in the only way he knows he can that she might understand. He makes his choice.

Sandy feels the brush of his warm lips to her muzzle as he shifts his weight to hold himself over her. She is on her back, on the cool grass. Her pelvis is relaxed and her legs splayed wide for the man. His body fits so well into hers, the perfect invitation—the perfect fit. A hand ruffles through her fur as he lowers his body slowly, carefully atop her. His hips fit perfectly in the cradle of hers. Her breasts molding to fit snug against his belly.

Soft whimpers escape her throat as he presses himself closer. Sandy’s pelvis seems to arch up to help complete the contact. She stretches beneath her master, waiting to be taken. Alan bends his head and presses his mouth to her muzzle. His tongue pushes past sharp teeth to delve into the warmth of her mouth. Sandy responds by swishing forward her tongue to meet his and then chase it back to its home. It is an eternal dance normal shared by man, but tonight it is for more than one species. Dogs enjoy the close feeling of their masters, and Sandy is no different. She enjoys the kiss and the weight of his body to hers.

His hand moves over her furry body, over her flank. Sandy wiggles and whimpers. Alan’s mouth continues with the dance. Tongues move back and forth like a game of tag. He does well ensuring that he misses her sharp teeth. Sandy does well ensuring that she doesn’t get too excited and suddenly clamp down with them. His hand roams her lithe, muscular, furry body. That hand moves in between the gap he creates, to roam all over all her breasts. His mind if filled with the idea of them being full of milk for a litter of puppies, and what fun he could have with them then. Little does he know that she will never allow another dog to touch her, never allow a pregnancy by another dog. If only it were possible she would allow him to do the deed. Sandy cannot understand how it works, she can only reply on instinct, but instinct if enough.