I couldn’t help but feel that familiar tingle between my legs as I crossed the street to Mr. Jones’s house. Mom had insisted I help out the old guy after his appendectomy, but I knew I’d make the most of it. At 18, with my blonde hair cascading down my back, my large tits straining against the thin white camisole, and my spankable ass barely covered by the skimpy minidress, I was dressed to tease.

No bra, no panties, just the cool air brushing my bare pussy as I walked, making my nipples harden and my clit throb with anticipation. I was always horny, ready to fuck anything that caught my eye, and today felt like it might deliver.

The house was quiet when I let myself in with the spare key. Dust motes danced in the sunlight streaming through the windows as I started wiping down the kitchen counters, bending over just enough to let the dress ride up my thighs. That’s when I heard the click of claws on the hardwood floor.

Mr. Jones’s Labrador, a big, muscular dog with a glossy black coat, trotted in, nose twitching. He circled me curiously, his hot breath puffing against my legs. I froze, a wicked thrill shooting through me as he nudged his snout under my dress, sniffing deeply at my exposed pussy. God, the scent of my arousal must have hit him hard. I was already wet from masturbating before Mom sent me over here.

Before I could shoo the dog away, his rough tongue lolled out and dragged along my slick pussy lips. A gasp escaped my lips as that textured heat lapped at me, rougher than any man’s tongue, sending jolts of pleasure up my spine.

“Oh fuck,” I whispered, my hands gripping the counter.

I should have stopped the dog, but it felt too good, too forbidden. The dog’s tongue pushed deeper, flicking over my clit with insistent strokes, tasting my pussy juices as I spread my legs wider. My tits heaved with each breath, nipples poking through the camisole like diamonds. Heat built fast in my core, my pussy clenching around nothing as Mr. Jones licked harder, sloppier, his nose bumping my ass.

I moaned, grinding back against his muzzle, lost in the animalistic rhythm. Waves of ecstasy crashed over me, and I came hard, my thighs trembling as I squirted a little onto his tongue, my whole body shuddering with the intensity of it.

“Yes, good boy,” I panted, riding out the orgasm, my mind hazy with shameful bliss.

The front door suddenly slamming shut snapped me back to reality.

I whipped around, dress still hiked up, pussy glistening and exposed, just as Mr. Jones stood there, his face a mask of shock turning to fury. He was taller than I remembered, his 60-year-old frame lean but sturdy, fresh from the hospital in loose pants and a button-up shirt. The Labrador whined, tail wagging obliviously.

“What the hell is this?” Mr. Jones barked, his voice gravelly and commanding. “You little slut, letting my dog eat your filthy cunt in my own house?”

My cheeks burned, but the heat between my legs only flared hotter at his words. I tugged my dress down, stammering, “Mr. Jones ... I ... I’m sorry, it just happened ... Mom sent me over here...”

“Shut your mouth,” he growled, grabbing the dog’s collar and hauling him toward the back door. “Out, you damn mutt!”

The Labrador yelped as he was shoved into the yard, the door slamming behind him. Mr. Jones turned back to me, his eyes raking over my body, lingering on my heaving tits and the wet spot on my thighs. Despite his recent surgery, there was a predatory glint in his gaze.

“You think you can come here as if some bitch in heat? You’re gonna pay for that.”

He stepped closer, unbuckling his belt with deliberate slowness. My heart pounded, a mix of fear and excitement twisting in my gut. I wanted this, his dominance, his roughness. When he yanked down his zipper and pulled out his cock, I nearly moaned. It was big, thick, veined from age, but rock-hard, the head already leaking pre-cum.

“On your knees, Cathy. Suck it like the dirty girl you are.”

I dropped without hesitation, my knees hitting the floor as I wrapped my lips around his shaft. He was salty, musky, filling my mouth as I bobbed my head, tongue swirling over the underside.

“That’s it, you cock-hungry slut,” he groaned, tangling his fingers in my blonde hair and thrusting deeper, hitting the back of my throat.

I gagged but didn’t pull away, hollowing my cheeks and sucking harder, my pussy aching with need. Mr. Jones’ grunts grew louder, his hips bucking as he face-fucked me, calling me names that made my clit pulse, “filthy whore,” and “eager little bitch.” Tears pricked my eyes from the roughness, but the humiliation only fueled my arousal.

Finally, he tensed, roaring as hot cum flooded my throat. I swallowed every drop, milking him dry with my mouth, savoring the bitter taste. He pulled out, still semi-hard, and hauled me up by my arm.

“Bend over the counter, slut. I’m not done with you.”

My body obeyed, ass up, dress flipped over my back. Mr. Jones slapped my spankable cheeks hard, the sting making me yelp and arch.

“Such a perfect ass for fucking.”

His fingers probed my soaked pussy first, two plunging in roughly, making me whimper.

“So wet from the dog, huh? But now you’re mine.”

He lined up his cock and slammed into my pussy, stretching me wide. I cried out, the fullness overwhelming, his balls slapping my clit with each brutal thrust.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunted, pounding me relentlessly, one hand gripping my hip, the other yanking my hair.

I felt guilt from getting caught, thrill from his control, and raw need consuming me. He didn’t let up, fucking me harder, my tits bouncing against the counter.

“You like being used, don’t you? Dirty girl.”

I nodded, moaning, “Yes, Mr. Jones, fuck me harder.”

Sweat slicked our skin, the kitchen filling with the wet sounds of our bodies colliding. Then he pulled out, slick with my juices, and pressed against my asshole.

“Time to take it here, whore.”

I tensed, but the pressure gave way as he pushed in, inch by inch, the burn turning to pleasure. He fucked my ass deep and rough, alternating slaps on my cheeks, his dirty talk pushing me toward another edge.

“Gonna fill this tight hole.”

My fingers found my clit, rubbing frantically as he railed me, the dual sensations building unbearably. But he wasn’t stopping. His pace quickened, promising more, his recovery be damned. His cock throbbed inside my ass, stretching me to my limits with every savage thrust, the friction sending sparks of pain-laced pleasure through my body. I was on the edge again, my fingers circling my clit faster, chasing that release as his balls slapped against my soaked pussy.

“Fuck, you’re gripping me so tight, you anal slut,” he snarled, his voice rough with lust, one hand digging into my hip while the other cracked across my ass cheek, leaving a burning imprint. “I bet this is not the first cock you’ve had up here.”

“No, Mr. Jones,” I said. “I’ve had a few.”

“I thought so.”

The sting of his cock sliding into me made me clench around him, pulling a guttural groan from his throat. Shame from the dog’s tonguing was still fresh in my mind, but was overridden by this raw need for Mr. Jones’ dominance, the way he claimed me like I was his dirty secret. Suddenly, he yanked out of my ass with a wet pop, leaving me gasping and empty, my hole twitching in protest.

“Not yet, whore,” he growled, spinning me around and shoving me down onto the cool kitchen floor.

I landed on my back with a thud, my minidress tangled around my waist, tits spilling out of the camisole as I panted up at him. His eyes burned with that commanding fire, his big old cock jutting out, slick from my ass and pussy, veins pulsing. He grabbed my ankles roughly, spreading my legs wide until my thighs burned from the stretch, exposing my dripping pussy to the air. Juices leaked from me, pooling beneath my ass, the scent of sex thick in the room.

“Look at this messy pussy,” he muttered, dropping to his knees between my legs.

His hands pinned my thighs open, fingers bruising my skin, and before I could catch my breath, his face dove in. That gravelly beard scraped my inner thighs as his tongue, hot, insistent, lapped at my pussy lips. He rimmed my pussy deeply, starting from my asshole, still loose and tingling from his cock, up through my slick lips, circling my entrance before plunging inside.

“Taste like a filthy bitch in heat,” he mumbled against me, the vibrations humming through my core.

His tongue explored every fold, rough and thorough, sucking my clit between his lips and flicking it hard, making my hips buck involuntarily. I moaned, loud and desperate, my hands fisting in his thinning hair, pulling him closer. The intimacy hit me hard, not just the physical devouring, but the way he owned this moment, reducing me to a writhing mess on his floor. Tears of overwhelming sensation pricked my eyes as he delved deeper, tongue-fucking my pussy while his nose ground against my clit, drawing out more of my arousal.

“Oh God, Mr. Jones,” I whimpered, my voice breaking with emotion, the pleasure coiling tight in my belly.

He didn’t stop, his mouth relentless, slurping at my juices, mixing them with his saliva until I was a sopping wreck. My large tits heaved with each ragged breath, nipples aching for touch, but all I could focus on was the building pressure, the forbidden thrill of being eaten out by this older man who’d just caught me with his dog. Finally, he pulled back, lips glistening, and flipped me over onto my stomach with brute strength.

“Ass up, slut. Time to fuck you proper,” the old man declared.

I scrambled to obey, knees and palms on the floor, arching my back to present my spankable ass. Mr. Jones gripped my hips, yanking me back, and his thick cock slid inside my pussy in one brutal thrust. The stretch was immediate, filling me, his girth splitting me open as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, so wet and ready,” he grunted, starting to pound me rough and hard from behind, his belly slapping against my ass with each drive.

The angle hit deep, his cockhead battering my cervix, sending jolts of ecstasy mixed with a sharp ache through me. I cried out, pushing back to meet him, the tile cold against my tits as they dragged with every thrust.

My fingers tangled in his hair again, yanking his head back as I twisted to look at him. “More, please, fuck me harder, call me your dirty whore,” I begged, my voice hoarse, craving his filthy commands like air.

The dominance in his eyes fueled me, that strict control making my heart race with a twisted affection, as if he were the only one who saw the real, insatiable me. “You want it rough, you greedy little cunt?” he snarled, slamming deeper, one hand wrapping around my throat from behind, squeezing just enough to make my vision blur with stars. “Beg for my cock, tell me how much you love being my fucktoy.”

“I love it, your big cock owning my pussy, using me like a slut,” I gasped, riding his thrusts, grinding my ass against him to take every inch.

Moans tore from my throat, loud and unrestrained, echoing off the kitchen walls as sweat dripped down my back. His free hand spanked my ass repeatedly, the cracks punctuating his grunts, each one pushing me closer to the brink. I felt the raw vulnerability in submitting to him, the high of his rough possession blending with the graphic intensity of his cock pistoning inside, stretching and claiming. He leaned over me, breath hot on my neck, whispering more degradations:

“Gonna breed this tight hole, fill you up till you leak.”

I shuddered, my pussy clenching around him, the promise of his cum making my clit throb. But he kept going, pace unrelenting, his recovery forgotten in our frenzy, leaving me teetering on the edge of another shattering climax.

His words sent a shiver down my spine, that dirty promise of breeding me like some animal, igniting the fire in my core even hotter. I was so close, my pussy fluttering around his relentless cock, every thrust pushing me toward that explosive edge. But as the pleasure built, a deeper craving twisted inside me, the memory of his girth stretching my ass earlier, the forbidden burn that had me hooked. I needed it again, needed him to claim every part of me, to make me feel utterly owned in this raw, emotional surrender.