Chapter 2

I dreamt that a small, warm hand was caressing my cock, which was growing very hard. Then it dawned on me that it was no dream, and I woke with a start, pulling away.

"Hey!" I said.

Connie had been holding the front of my briefs out so my cock could expand to its natural size and shape without constraint, and as I pulled away, the elastic pressed against it just below the tip, plastering it back against my body.

Connie giggled, and in the moonlight I could make out a mischievous expression.

"What were you doing that for?" I asked crossly.

"Oh," she said, her face falling. "Was that bad of me?"

"Well, yes, it was! You don't play with a person's body without permission."

Her lip quivered, and then she began to cry quietly. "I'm so sorry, I'll never do it again." She looked up with wide, moist puppy dog eyes and pleaded, "Will you send me away now?"

My heart melted. "No, of course not. You should just ask before you do something like that." I was dimly aware that I hadn't said quite what I should have, but in the fog of the middle of the night it took me a minute to see why.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she said, reaching out to hug me as we lay on our sides. Her chest pressed squarely against mine. My cock just barely brushed against her body lower down -- whatever part of her body was at that height.

"So, um," she asked shyly, "If I ask, does that mean you might say yes? I mean, if you like it. Did you like it?"

Now I realized what I had said that was wrong. "Well, yes, it did kind of feel good, but, um, we're not supposed to."

"Oh. Why not?" she asked with perfect innocence.

Of course men and girls were never, ever supposed to do anything like that. But then she was a gurley, not a girl.

"What made you do it?" I asked, deflecting her question a little.

"Umm, looking at those pictures earlier made me feel kind of all tingly and excited. And there were girls doing that kind of thing, you know? And they liked it, and the men REALLY liked it," she said, with a child's exaggerated stress on the key word.

"So, you wanted to make me happy in that way, like you do with the cooking and everything?"

"Yeah..." she said.

"Well, that's one way you don't have to make me happy, OK?"

"OK," she said, but something was bugging her.

"What is it?"

"Well, I really wanted to do it, you know? All those tingles."

"Girls aren't supposed to feel tingly like that."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Maybe there's something wrong with me?" she asked, tearing up.

I really didn't want Connie to be unhappy. "Well, maybe some girls just are that way. Big girls feel that way when they grow up."

"Huh. I'm a gurley, not a girl. And you know what?"

"What?"

"I'm not going to get any bigger. I'm the size I'll be forever."

"Oh," I said. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," she whispered.

She was grown-up size. She wasn't human. She started it, and it was because she was interested, not just to make me happy ... My cock had softened a little, but as we lay in silence it pulsed back to full readiness.

I pushed my pelvis forward just a little, and it poked against her nightgown, bumping against something below her stomach level.

Slowly her hand reached back to my middle and touched me. It was very exciting. Masturbation is great, but sex is supposed to be enjoyed with company.

She tugged down on my briefs, and I raised my hips to help her get them off. I threw the covers back and lay on my back with my legs spread wide. My pet Connie caressed my straining cock once more. She also snuggled against me, and whispered in my ear.

"Does it feel OK, Mr. Smith?" she asked in her tiny voice.

I nodded.

"Is it better like this?" she asked again.

"Mmmm-hmmmm!" I moaned.

She was stroking up and down.

"Is that stuff going to come out?" she asked. "Like in the pictures?"

"Yeah, I think so, Connie. Oh, that feels fantastic!"

"Does it feel really good when that mess comes out?"

"Yeah, yeah, oh, a little faster, OK?"

Her pace picked up, her little hand pumping up and down, filling me with excitement and pleasure, pleasure that would soon find release.

"Yes, Mr. Smith, mmm-hmmm, I want you to feel good, and ... I hope some of the stuff gets on my hand, like with that girl in the picture," she said, half-apologetically, with a giggle.

"Ooohhhhh!" I moaned as my climax seized me. I had instinctively thrust my cock above her encircling hand, so the first shot of cum jetted across my chest. But the second spurt caught on her fingers and within a second of her vigorous motion it worked its way between fingers and cock, lubricating our contact. It added another dimension to my pleasure.

As my pleasure slowly faded, she kept whispering. "Ooo, that's so nice, Mr. Smith, you did it!"

"Mmmm, it felt fantastic," I mumbled, drifting off into silence as my breathing slowed.

"Got to clean this up," I murmured. I didn't like sleeping in sticky sheets.

"I'll get it!" she said, and rolled over to grab a handful of tissues from the box on the bedside table. She then absorbed the gooey mess with one tissue after another before wiping my cock and her fingers. She trotted off to toss the soiled tissues in the bathroom wastebasket, then returned.

She pulled the covers up, kissed me on the cheek, and rolled over to the edge of the bed, facing away from me.

What a pet! I thought. Within seconds I drifted into a deeply contented sleep.

It wasn't really bestiality, right? No one calls it bestiality when a dog humps your leg just because you don't make him stop. And it wasn't like I was sexually attracted to her -- I mean, she was cute and all, but not that way. But what she had wanted to do with her hand -- well, she started it, and started up again even after I made it clear she wasn't really supposed to. She'd really liked it. And maybe it would be just a one-time thing.

The next night I didn't wear my briefs to bed, just in case. I woke to the feel of a small hand on my rapidly growing cock, but pretended to be asleep as I smiled inwardly. I couldn't pretend any longer when I felt warm wetness surround my bulging penis tip, at the same time I felt her hair caressing my pelvic area as it fell loose from her head.

"Oh, Connie!" I murmured.

I pumped up into the girl's -- gurley's -- mouth. I could have held off, but I didn't want to. She was my pet, after all -- my property. The exquisite sensations called for an ejaculation, and that's what my body provided. Connie didn't flinch and if anything licked and sucked with more enthusiasm as my sperm surged into her mouth.

I heard her swallow and lick her lips. "Did you like that, Mr. Smith?"

"Hmmmm, let me think about it," I teased.

"You did too! I could tell!"

"Yeah, I did. What did you think?"

"It's so cool. I get all tingly, you know, like in the same place on me. The stuff tastes pretty good, too."

She licked me clean, then turned and snuggled up against me. She humped her crotch against my leg a couple times. I wasn't quite sure whether she meant to or whether it was an accident.

In the afterglow of a fabulous orgasm, I fell asleep with the adorable little thing snuggled up to my side.

I went to work on Monday, leaving Connie home alone. I explained that I'd probably go to the gym on the way home, and she had a lovely dinner prepared that needed only a few minutes for the finishing touches.

She didn't go to school, of course, because she wasn't human. I asked her what she did all day. She read, she exercised, and she talked with her mommy and sisters on the phone. That surprised me for a moment, but it made sense. Unlike a dog or cat, she didn't forget her past relationships and her family. She could keep the connection active by phone and internet.

She didn't wake me up with any sexy play that night. I was a little disappointed, but this had to come from her. No little hands got me long and hard on Tuesday night either, and I felt tempted to say something. She was my pet, after all, and she should do what I wanted; Mike had said she would. On the other hand, if I made her do it, then that dreaded 'bestiality' word raised its ugly head. Not to mention how much she resembled a girl, and men didn't suggest sex with girls. I jerked off during my morning shower, thinking of my little pet Connie.

I was delighted to wake up Wednesday during the night to her tender caresses. And she'd brought her own little body into the picture. It was really very sexy that her upper leg was crossed on top of me and her crotch was rhythmically humping against my thigh. But I concentrated on her finger work. She had gotten some lube from somewhere -- I kept a tube in the desk drawer in my study -- and her slick hand wrapped around my penis gave me fabulous stimulation. It was nowhere near the complete stimulation that a vagina would provide, but it made up in quality of contact what it lacked in quantity. I spurted within a couple minutes, delighted with my young pet. I thought I felt an increased urgency to her humping just as I came and felt her give a little shudder; in any case her humping trailed off to nothing as my spurts died down to dribbles.

Up to that point I'd viewed Connie's body as a sort of indivisible whole. Her head had many parts -- her big blue eyes, her curly golden hair, the dimples, the expressive mouth -- but her body had just been a single warm bunch of flesh. There were her hands, of course, which were efficiently competent as she cooked or folded laundry. In the dark they had been the source of great pleasure sexually. But up beyond her arms had just been a wonderful, wriggly soft bunch of stuff that supported Connie's head and hands. It was warm and pleasant when it lay against me.

But now I noticed the parts. Connie always wore dresses during the day, and nightgowns with similar coverage. Now I noticed her dainty feet, her calves and knobbly knees, and the part of her smooth little thighs that was visible below the hem of her dress. I saw her thin, strong arms and supple shoulders. Her neck curved gracefully on the way down until it broadened out right at the collar of her dress. Shoulder blades could be made out when the fabric fell right. On the front side, a flat chest and flat stomach made slightly different landscapes as she assumed different positions. And then of course there were her pelvis and hips, very girlish and muted.

Now I wanted to see it all, not just imagine and guess exactly what hid under her clothing.

I suppose I could have just ordered her to strip. She was my pet, after all. She wasn't even human. But why would I want to do that? What appeal would a naked animal have? And to the extent her form was that of a human girl, that wasn't something I wanted to see; that was private.

But the memory of that hot crotch humping against me wouldn't go away. There was some sexual fire in this girl -- this animal, this gurley.

Connie woke me in the night for several nights in a row, and brought me to a fabulous climax with her hands or mouth. Her humping against my thigh became more pronounced, less tentative, and she made no effort to hide the fact that she reached a sexual climax when I did. But she seemed a little sad as we curled up to sleep each time.

Then suddenly it stopped. Three days went by and there were no overtures from my pet. With mixed feelings I finally said one morning, "Um, how come you don't wake me up any more?"

"Oh," she said glumly, then brightened and said, "You miss it?"

"Yeah, I miss it!"

"I miss it too."

"Then why did you stop?"

"Um, I don't know..."

"Why?"

"Could we do it a little differently?"

"Um, sure!" As long as I got to feel her touch I'd be open-minded.

"Could you touch me?" she whispered with a big conspiratorial smile.

If she wanted me to touch her in a sexual way, then, well, those words 'bestiality' and 'pedophilia' reared their ugly heads once more. "I don't know as I should."

"I'd like it if you did," she said, with the barest hint of a whine. I said nothing, and after a moment, she said, "But you'd think about doing more if you didn't have to touch me?"

"Yeah," I said, absently.

That night I didn't fall asleep for a long time, excited at the prospect of experiencing Connie's sexual attentions once more.

I was more groggy than usual when I came awake, then more excited than usual.

I gasped and moaned as her lubed-up fingers played with my organ. She made small, sweet sighs as she humped against my leg.

"Hi," she whispered with a big grin.

"Hi," I moaned.

"OK, close your eyes, all right?"

"OK."

"You promise you won't open them?"

"Promise."

I then heard rustling and felt her shifting on the bed. What was she up to? Was she going to present her animal's crotch to my mouth? That would be 'not touching' in one sense. Would I go muff diving between the legs of an animal -- an animal who strongly resembled a human girl? Would there be a muff, or smooth skin?

But nothing approached my mouth. Instead, I felt the ring of her hot, moist mouth on the tip of my erect cock. Then she slid her mouth down over my cock, but something was a little different about it.