Chapter 9: Immersion – Part I

Continuing the story of how I “transitioned,” from being a mere observer of Georgia’s return to this facet of her life, to actually immersing myself in it – and how we both learned that, sometimes, imagination can be as “real” as the real thing!

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This time Georgia drove, because she knows the streets better, especially now that it’s dark, and because we were both really, really in a hurry to get back home.

This time, we didn’t rush in the door and fall onto each other and scramble to tear our clothes off, the way we did two weeks ago when we returned home from Georgia’s performance at the big house out on the Eastern Shore. This time, it was different.

This time, I wasn’t in the same desperate state, since I had already fucked Georgia and had cum once (copiously) this evening. Also, that last time, even though Georgia had been fucked by several dogs and had cum at least twice, she was constantly aware of the fact that she was there to entertain and please others, and she really wasn’t free to enjoy the sex.

But this time, it was different. This time, both our minds were filled with the same images, images of filthy, nasty sex with dogs – images that were shared. This time, there were no psychological barriers, where she was the “performer” and I was the “audience.” This time, our images were of things we both did, together.

Standing next to our bed, I did undress her. I peeled her sleeveless pullover up over her head and off her arms, leaving her standing there, topless, with no brassiere, her gorgeous tits with just the slightest sag of maturity that turns me on so much. I turned her back to me and let my hands rove over those tits, caressing the smooth, unblemished skin, gently playing with, then squeezing the perfect, erect nipples.

She put her hands over mine, to keep them in place, and I continued to work over her nipples in a milking movement, until I squeezed firmly on both of them and whispered in her ear, “Dog-fucking slut!”

She groaned and sagged back against me. And I heard her whispered, “Yes...”

I reached down and unfastened the waist of her skirt and let if fall to the bedroom carpet. She daintily stepped out of the expensive leather that was now lying at her feet.

Now she was naked against me, no underwear, and I took advantage of her complete nudity to feel around, pressing my hands against her belly, not gently, and on downward to her pussy, shaved silken smooth, and encountering something – something that was not her.

And then I remembered. How when she had finished – sucking – Buster, and after I had exploded inside her, and we were getting up and putting on our robes before going to get dressed, I remember Georgia reaching into her giant handbag and pulling out something and placing it between her legs. This was it – a plug, designed, intended, to retain things. In particular, to retain fluids in a woman’s cunt.

I put my hand over her pussy and pressed the plug deeper into her, while also pressing the heel of my hand against her clit. Again, I felt her sag against me.

I took away the hand that was pressing against her and turned her around, and this time it was her turn to remove what I was wearing. First, the shirt, peeling it back to bare my chest, then licking around, then biting, first one nipple, then the other. Then the waist button and, as she had done (though not so daintily as she had), I stepped out of the trousers that were puddled at my feet.

She put one hand around my thickening cock – not gently, not with any pretense of stroking or jacking me – and squeezed, hard. With her other arm, she reached and pulled my head down, and I could see the dried juices on her face and lips, and she pulled me to her mouth, still heady with the smell of dog, and stuck her tongue into my mouth and licked around, then pulled her mouth back and looked directly into my eyes and whispered harshly, “Dog-slut fucker!”

And that did it. At that moment, I knew what I wanted. More than anything else in the world, I wanted to be a dog-slut fucker!

I took her by the shoulders and threw her back onto the bed. That’s apparently what she wanted, as she scooted farther onto the bed and lifted her knees and spread her legs wide, for me to fall in between. But before I could get in, she said, “Wait – my vag plug!” She hesitated for a second, then ordered me, “You do it.”

I looked down, and there it was. I have no experience with such an – implement – so I just stared. Georgia saw my consternation. She smiled at me, a kind of sarcastic smile. “You’re a bright boy, James – you figure it out.”

I grasped the rubbery rim that extended beyond Georgia’s pussy and tugged gently. I saw the plug move, but just a little. It was obvious that this wasn’t just going to slip out nicely. I’d need to pull it out. On the other hand, I didn’t want to hurt Georgia (or hurt my chances to satisfy my needs this evening). I braced myself to steady my hand and tried to pull at an even pace. I felt it budge, but not much. It was obvious I was going to have to use a little brutality if I wanted to get this thing out and get on with the evening’s program.

As I pulled, I could see Georgia’s cunt stretch, and it reminded me of the videos where a still-knotted dog is trying to pull out of the woman’s cunt. And as in the videos, I could see Georgia as she experienced the pain-pleasure of being stretched in this way.

I could hear her, too – her “Unnhh, unnhh, unnhhh!” as the plug moved, millimeter by millimeter, out of her canal.

But when the plug was almost all of the way out, she managed to collect herself enough to gasp, “Wait.” She lifted her legs and rolled her hips back, and I immediately knew what she was doing – she was making sure that all the juices she had worked so hard to preserve weren’t going to be wasted.

I finally extracted the plug the last bit, until it was free of her grasping pussy. I was able to see that it had been made in the form of a rose, but with all the petals closed, so it tapered at the “top” end but swelled out at the base. It was even “rose-colored,” and the base was meant to look like green leaves. Decorative – and functional!

But once it was out, Georgia took it from my hand – and raised it to her mouth. She smiled wickedly, then slowly slid it into her mouth, rolling her eyes at me as she deep-throated the flower-shaped plug, and all the nasty fluids that coated it, then pulled it out and gave it a final tongue bath before dropping it to the floor.

“Now, James – show your dog-fucking slut how hot she makes you.”

And for the second time this evening, I plunged my desperate cock into that cunt that was full of Caesar’s cum – and mine.

And it was warm, and snug, and slick – and already full of cum. I’ve had “sloppy seconds” a number of times, but this was the first time that I ever put my cock in a reservoir of cum. And despite the nastiness of it all, my “dog-fucking slut” put her arms around me and laid her legs over mine and held me to her.

And for the first of what would be many times to come, I experienced feeling the love of my dog-fucking slut. I found myself learning more and more about this life Georgia was drawn into − and about myself.

And in her embrace, I felt the desire to kiss her. I knew what I would find there, of course. There would be the remnants of Buster’s cum – on her face, on her lips, and on her tongue and in her mouth.

And they were, indeed, there. I couldn’t deny that they were, and I didn’t want to pretend them away. No, they were – are – a part of the entire experience. If I’m going to accept Georgia’s life, at least as it is right now, I had to accept – even embrace – the reality of it. And at this instant, that reality includes the taste and smell of dog semen on my beautiful lover’s face and mouth.

So I embraced. Instead of trying to avoid or pretend, I licked and sucked, and anywhere I thought the dog musk was a little stronger, I pursued it. And as I did, I started to understand. The smells, the taste – these were the essence of sex − raw, animalistic sex. And I chose to immerse myself in it – in them.

And when Georgia perceived what I was doing, that’s when she started to talk – to whisper, filling my mind with deliciously filthy images.

“Oh, James, I’ll bet your cock is just swimming in Caesar’s cum, isn’t it? That must feel so nasty, to know that your dick is just swimming in dog cum. I can feel you stirring it up – mixing your juices inside me.

“You can taste Buster’s dog cum, can’t you. It’s there in my mouth – you taste it, don’t you? I can feel you trying to taste it – I can feel you searching around, trying to get more of it.

“You were right there, weren’t you, James. You put your head right there, next to mine, right next to Buster’s cock while I had it in my mouth, had my lips around it. You were so close, you knew when he was cumming, didn’t you? I could tell you knew, because you started fucking me harder then. Oh, James – you fucked me so good! When Buster shot off, I came so hard – your face was right there next to mine – it was like I was sharing him with you, like he was cumming for you, too.”

The things she was saying, the things she was telling me – they should have been disgusting – they should have disgusted me. But you already know. By now, I was already well down this road, and Georgia’s words, and the thought of sharing my beautiful Georgia with an ugly dog, thrilled the hell out of me.

Apparently Georgia’s words thrilled the hell out of her, too, because my mind was yanked away from my own images and memories when she suddenly, violently thrust her hips up at me and tightened her grip around me with her legs, and I felt her nails digging into my back and shoulders and ass. She grabbed my head and pulled me to her, and she licked my face, then bit my chin and my lips – hard – and then licked me again, before biting me again.

Her whole climax happened so suddenly, and so violently, that it didn’t even allow me to yield to my own arousal and to cum into her. And that may have been part of Georgia’s plan. She dug her nails into my ass so hard that the pain cut short the orgasm I was craving then.

I stopped moving, long enough to let her enjoy her own cosmic release, then began moving in and out of her, trying to get my own needs satisfied. And that’s when she pressed against my shoulders.

“Stop. Wait.” She paused a moment to catch her breath. “You know, James, with all the cocks that were around this evening, I still never got one in my ass. Can you fix that for me, James? I know you like fucking my ass. Can you do that for me, James? Can you put that beautiful big dick of yours up my ass?”

In all my life, I don’t think I have ever gotten such a forthright, earnest request to fuck somebody’s ass.

Her words didn’t expect a reply. Georgia lifted he knees a bit, and I put my arms under them and lifted, tilting her hips back – and elevating her hitherto-neglected but soaking wet asshole.

With Georgia’s arms still around my back, I used my hand to place the tip of my “beautiful big dick” at the entrance to Georgia’s shiny wet asshole – and I pushed. It was the most amazing feeling – so tight, and yet so wet and slippery from all the juices that had run down there during our fuck. And, yes, I got another thrill knowing that those juices that were oiling that tight asshole so beautifully belonged to both me and Caesar. In my mind, I knew that I was using dog cum as a lubricant to fuck my beautiful Georgia in the ass.

And it hit me: it almost certainly wouldn’t be the last time that I would be using dog cum as a lubricant.

Georgia spoke to me, but not like before. She knew we were both aroused enough, and in the right ways, that neither of us needed more of the outrageous filth she used before. Instead, she said, simply,

“That’s so good, James. You’re making my ass feel so-o-o good.”

And what I felt was – Georgia’s rectum. It was a strange feeling. It was like I wasn’t aware of my own cock, but I was aware of everything that it felt: the silken tightness of her rectum, the creamy slickness of the two cums that were oiling my way, the gentle, sliding friction as I rode in and out through her asshole – and the heat. Oh, my god – the heat!

And I just got lost in the sensations. Hard as it might be to believe, with a passionate, beautiful woman under me, and in front of my eyes, I seemed to lose track of where I was and instead just bathed in all the sensations my delicate penis skin was feeling.

But then I heard her words: “Anytime, James. I want you to cum anytime.”

And I wanted to. My excitement had been building almost from the moment I pulled out of Georgia, back at Alyce and Frieda’s. As soon as Georgia said the words, I realized how desperately I was craving release, and in less than a minute, the dam burst, literally. I made a final thrust, as deeply as I could, and pumped hours of pent-up lust into Georgia’s hot, waiting rectum.

Georgia made a little sound – a gentle “Oh-h-h-h” – and tightened her arms around me, just a little. I fell on her, but she didn’t seem to mind the weight. She just continued to hold me, our cheeks touching each other, stroking my head with one hand, and I thought I heard her say, “James – darling James.”

I lay there like that, on her, until my weight became too much and she disengaged us and gently pushed me to the side, and we lay there like that, side by side, innocently, holding hands the way we so often end up doing.

Then without saying anything she rolled over and turned around – and bent down over my cock. She held it briefly between her thumb and fingers until it began to thicken, then took it into her mouth and began to savor all that she found there – the cum, from both from me and from Caesar, and her own juices from her own ass. She devoured my cock and all that was clinging to it, like she was trying to devour every remnant, every trace of tonight’s actions – to take it inside her and make it all her own, forever.

Then, without a word, she swung her legs over me and positioned her dripping pussy right over my mouth

What? You’re disgusted?? It’s OK for Georgia to take my cock, covered with her own cunt and ass juices, plus my cum and the dog’s cum, into her mouth, but it’s disgusting for me to taste what comes out of her cunt?

I’ve tasted my own cum, by itself, and after it’s been in a cunt − or someplace else. And I’ve tasted Matthew’s cum – often mixed with my own – when I’ve sucked out Lauren and Janey – and Georgia. And the tastes and the smells are so intense sometimes that they make me swoon – and often make me hard again and ready to go back and deposit another load where the first one came from.

So did I suck the juices – Caesar’s and mine – out of Georgia’s dripping cunt while she sucked the remains of our sex – hers and mine and the dog’s – off my softening cock?

Hell, yes, I did!

I pressed my face right in between those firm ass cheeks, against her sodden pussy and her dripping asshole, and just smeared my face around in the slippery mess that I found there. Then I tongued her asshole, putting my lips around it and actually sucking my cum out of her. When there was no more to be gotten, I moved my face downward, to that soaking pussy that was struggling to retain all the juices that had been put in there tonight. I extended my tongue between those soft petals of her inner lips and I bathed them with my tongue, tasting what my tongue found there, trying to separate the different flavors in my mind, and knowing where each one came from.

But then, as I had with her asshole, I wrapped my lips around her entire pussy, and I sucked. Georgia helped by scooting her knees up a little, placing her dripping pussy over my mouth, so gravity would assist me in my perversity. And I sucked it all – my cum and Caesar’s’ from earlier, Georgia’s juices from all evening – all of it. I sucked it all out, and I swallowed.