Carlotta Graham

The animal urge

CHAPTER ONE

The Oak Tree estate and grounds were as typically lovely and idyllic as ever in their late summer garb of fading green meadows and mellow, wilting flowers. The undergrowth of the heavily-wooded area was dark with knobbed shrubs and the oldest trees stood gnarled and sprawling, like old men colored brown with age. Glistening dew drops of rain splashed down on the leaves and dribbled earthward through the thick networks of foliage, finally to fall on the rich black soil below. And yet, strangely enough, the sky was a bright clear blue that seemed somehow separate from the woods, which languished obediently under the inexorable rules of the season's end.

The Hartley home, a large rustic house with an ample amount of partially-cleared acreage surrounding it, nestled cozily in a small shallow valley running on a rocky irregular level between two gently sloping ridges on either side. Behind the house, off to the right and slightly downwind, there was a spacious modern dog kennel with half a dozen central shelters and a maze of long fenced runs in which a number of handsome German Shepherds, of varying sizes, ages and colors, could be seen either dozing quietly or pacing nervously to and fro, whining and occasionally barking at some barely perceptible movement in the nearby underbrush.

In one of the longest runs, an immense black-and-fawn-colored male stood by himself, completely motionless and at the alert, as he stared upwards at a tiny rag of grey sky that was framed overhead by a small circle of evergreen branches. The imposing thoroughbred dog gazed longingly, almost defiantly, at a bird flying in a cramped orbit far above the treetops, its spread wings catching flashes of yellow and silver light from the sun. The bird drifted around and around, seemingly fixed to some invisible track in the air. After a while, the magnificent German Shepherd's strong legs began to tremble, his massive muscular body tense and straining with his natural instinct to somehow, impossibly, snag the feathered creature from the safety of its lofty circling and destroy it with one crushing swipe of his forepaw.

"Jesus, look at Wolf out there. The bastard looks better than ever," Bill Hartley enthused proudly as he stood gazing out the living room window at the kennels. The good-looking twenty-four-year-old young man did not wait for his young wife's reply and added, "If I'm lucky enough to buy Pete Sangler's prize bitch up in New Hampshire, just think what a beautiful litter she and Wolf will produce. We'll make a Goddamned fortune out of the pups!"

Diane Hartley, his wife, an extremely pretty twenty-one-year-old blonde, sat in haughty silence across the room, sipping daintily from her whiskey sour cocktail as she fought down the impulse to say what was really on her mind. She resented the fact that she would be left alone again while Bill was off on another of his frequent business trips, selling some of their own valuable dogs and negotiating for new championship breeders to upgrade their stock at Oak Tree. As usual, she would be left in charge of running the kennels by herself, a demanding responsibility that both intimidated and frightened her. God knows, the voluptuous young blonde thought bitterly to herself, her wealthy aristocratic parents had socially-groomed and educated her for far more important things than playing hostess to three dozen hairy brutes, no matter how valuable and expensive they were, while her thoughtless husband deserted her for days… sometimes weeks… at a time.

"What's the matter, honey?" he asked suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. "Now don't tell me you're going to start complaining again just because I've got to make a business trip."

"Oh no, not really," the satin-skinned blonde answered in a sulky, slightly hurt voice, her full lower lip pouting out to give her the appearance of a beautiful little girl who has been unfairly treated. "It's just that… well, we've only been married for eight months, and you've been gone almost half of that time, while I stay home and take care of the dogs… You know they frighten me."

"But honey, dogs are our living… a damned good living, too… and someone has to handle the business end of things," the handsome dark-haired husband protested, shrugging his shoulders in a gesture of helplessness. "I've got to travel and visit other breeders. We're in a highly competitive business and need the best dogs available to keep our line where it is – at the top."

"Yes, Bill, I know, but…"

"And that means scouting around," he continued, ignoring her attempted objection. "Unless, of course, you'd rather we just sat back and lived off your parents, always dependent upon them and without any real say about our own lives."

"No, darling, I-I didn't mean that at all," Diane assured him weakly, hating herself as she felt the last of her self-righteous indigence fade away in the fact of his solid common sense and logic. Despite how lonely and deprived she always felt when he was gone, she could think of no effective way to communicate her feelings to him about the task of caring for the dogs and the sense of loss she experienced as a young bride when he was not home with her. As conscious as she was of her social background and upbringing, it was true that she also wanted independence, not to be enslaved by the large sums of money her mother and father would gladly give them if only they would abide with the older couple's wishes. The exquisite blue-eyed girl felt her irritation waver and finally topple over altogether as she faltered helplessly in her own rising sense of shame and guilt.

She felt a flood of relief as he crossed the room to where she sat on the plush sofa and eased himself down beside her, his brawny right arm automatically encircling her shoulders, enfolding her. She dropped her head against his firm chest, her breath quavering as he drew her closer against him, his warmth mingling with hers. Gently he rubbed up and down along her bare arms, craning his head forward to nibble softly with his lips at her slender neck and sensitive left ear lobe.

"Ummmm, you certainly feel nice," he whispered hotly into the tender tingling flesh of her ear, sensing her anger and resistance flow away to nothing as he touched her with his breath. The light fluttery warmth relaxed and yet exhilarated her, causing a maddeningly light throb of anticipation in Diane's loins and at the small, bud-like tips of her full breasts. Without thinking, she began to rotate her rounded flaring hip against her husband's sinewy male flank, pressing the softness of her still-clad flesh against him.

"You feel nice, too," she purred, wiggling even closer to him on the sofa.

"You know, I've got to leave in less than an hour," Bill reminded her huskily. "Maybe we ought to use the time for action instead of words." Feeling herself slipping further into the intoxicating warmth of his touch, she nodded her head in wordless agreement and ran her fingertips tremblingly across his cheek, her long red nails tracing the distinctive contours of his strong masculine face. In a corner of her passion-dimmed mind, she could hear the tempo of the falling rain increase, the drops now pattering on the roof and in the trees with a steady staccato sound that seemed to match the pulsing beat of her blood. Suddenly, she felt him shift beside her and ease himself off the couch and down to his knees on the floor. He knelt forward then and caught her long smooth legs, his palms eagerly clamping against the soft insides of her thighs as she giggled and struggled halfheartedly in an attempt to free herself. She could see him hunched down on his knees between her open legs, grinning up at her through the deep valley of her upstanding breasts like a conquering warrior about to partake of a feast as he pressed outwards against her with his hands.

Slowly, he reached up under her short skirt and hooked his fingers into the elastic waist-band of her silk white panties, tugging gently downwards on the flimsy garment until the sheer, flimsy material slipped softly over her slightly-lifted buttocks and down over her shapely, well-tapered legs. The pink moist flesh of her naked vagina was presented up to his searching eyes in an almost lewd, sexually inciting position of sacrifice. She lay back against the cushions of the couch and reveled for a moment in the delicious languor of her young husband's exciting touch. She watched his tongue slowly circling his lips in rapt anticipation of the ravishment about to take place. He moved closer, placing his thumbs on the soft fleshy edges of her cunt. With a deliberately slow, torturing outward movement, he pressed the blonde hair-lined lips of her pussy apart and pressed his mouth forward against it, his long slippery tongue darting snake-like into the throbbing warmth of the smooth inner walls. Her tummy twitched and she felt a convulsive spasm of delight course up and down her spine as he began to suck slowly, teasingly, at first, nibbling at her erect clitoris with the sharp tips of his teeth. It was almost more than she could bear. Despite the thought that what he was doing to her down between her legs with his tongue was shameful and obscene, her nerves were ablaze with rising lust and she made no effort to prevent him from continuing to lick her there and give her this exquisite pleasure.

"God, it's too bad we can't manufacture and sell this feeling," Bill rasped as he pulled back from her naked loins a few inches. "Hell, we could make a mint."

His crude words sent a sudden jolt of alarm through her, one that gradually changed into a heavy sinking weight of depression. The stiff arch of excitement in her spine gave way and she collapsed back on the couch cushions as though in defeat. It was the same as always, the same thrill-shattering attitude he had had towards their sex-life since they had been married. Like everything else, he looked upon sex as a kind of commodity, something that could be used and sold, as though their deepest, most intimate emotions were mere products that might be turned into profit. She realized that it was important to Bill, as well as to herself, to be self-sustaining and not to have to rely on the money and advice of others in order to succeed as a newly-married couple. But God, he carried it too far! Sometimes she thought she would go crazy with self-doubt and frustration as a result of their crippled sexual relationship. Not that she wanted him to make love to her constantly – nothing like that – but she desperately needed to believe that he desired her as a woman more than just a vehicle through which he could prove his personal sense of worth and his ability to succeed. After all, she mused inwardly, she was a woman, a wife, and deserved to be treated with consideration just as much as he thought he deserved to be respected as a capable man.

He seemed oblivious to her lack of response and continued to nuzzle his face between her tantalizing loins. She groaned suddenly, watching with fascination as his head bobbed hungrily back and forth down between her thighs with the effort of his assault. She whimpered involuntarily and threw back her head on the top of the sofa, her hands clutching unashamedly at his face to pull him tighter against her now hotly squirming cunt as the lewd wet sucking noises of his tongue swirling deep in her vagina filled her ears.

As if sensing her sudden unwilling submission, Bill reached up and placed both of his hands over the front of her soft woolen sweater, cupping his work-calloused fingers around the roundly rising mounds of her heaving, nipple-hardened breasts, while with his wide shoulders and brawny upper arms, he forced her delectably-shaped legs even further apart. As his mouth and tongue worked hungrily in bestial subjugation of the throbbing wet moistness of her widely flowering vagina, his excitedly bulging eyes remained open, ogling with vulgar excitement the impassioned contortions of her lovely young face.

"Come on, honey, make it good," he grunted encouragingly from between her splayed-open loins as he kneaded lustfully at her heavily palpitating breasts through her clothing. "When you cum, pretend we're getting a dollar for each little tingle."

With a tiny guttural cry, Diane involuntarily ground her ivory-like hips forward against his face, burying his hotly flicking tongue all the way to the roots again as he renewed his lewd attack up between her open thighs. She was powerless now to struggle anymore against the unrelenting wonderful thrill that rocked her very soul, even though she felt a simultaneous quivering of distaste at the lewd, inconsiderate meaning of the words he had just uttered. A wildly rising erotic fire replaced her sense of revulsion and wounded dignity… replaced everything. Seldom in their still-new marriage had she ever so quickly felt so utterly wanton with him, so wild to be shamelessly and deeply satisfied.

"How many dollars have you got now, honey?" he asked abruptly, once again pulling away his pussy-moistened mouth to grin lewdly up at her. "Would you like to earn more?"

"Ohhh, yessssss, Bill," she crooned responsively, hardly conscious of what she was saying. Spreading her long legs wider and wider to give him greater access to her cuntal crevice, she begged without thought of shame. "Hurry, darling, hurry. Kiss me… kiss me down there. Faster! Oh, God, I'm almost there!"

Every young muscle the silken-haired girl possessed was alerted as she strained her naked, creamy-white buttocks upward towards the exciting red probe swirling deeply and wetly up between her legs. Her up-drawn thighs opened and closed tightly around the tormenting face that was sucking and licking gluttonously at her eagerly responding cunt. She kicked her heels hard against his back, spurring him on to suck her harder, harder, until a loud rushing sound rose to fill her ears, a great resounding and echoing torrent of sound. The tensed cords of her long graceful neck stood out under her golden skin as she pulled with all her strength against the tangled dark hair of her husband's head.

"Oh, darling, I'm almost ready to cum! Don't stop licking me, please!" she pleaded. At that moment, just as the hot sweet flow of emotion and sensual abandonment was nearing its crest, she saw a self-satisfied, smirking grin light his face, the very same expression that he often wore after closing a particularly profitable deal for one of his prize German Shepherd pups.

"Cum, baby, cum a million dollars worth," he urged with a gloating smile.

Suddenly her excitedly writhing body switched off automatically as though someone had pushed a button in the center of her aroused senses. She was instantaneously swamped with a feeling of loathing at the idea that her handsome young husband, kneeling with his face buried between her wide-split legs, could actually have said something so horribly insensitive, like comparing her own blissful orgasm, so near now, to the filthy thought of dollars that seemed to preside over their life together. Was nothing sacred in their marriage, she wondered bitterly, afraid that she already knew the answer. She was beginning to suspect that Bill, her own husband, was more attached to his stupid account books than to his wife.

"Oh, Bill, stop it, stop it right now!" she sobbed, fighting to loosen his fierce grip on her still brassiere-clad breasts and squirm away from him. "How can you be so revolting? How can you be mean enough to say something like that? Don't you love me at all…? Or do you want to get paid for that too?"

"Aw, I was only kidding, honey. Come on now, don't be such a baby," he said between breaths in an irritated tone of voice, struggling to spread wider her now tightly-clenched thighs and continue his lurid tonguing of her still visibly throbbing vagina. Then, mustering all of her female strength, she jerked violently away from him and rose to stumble to the other side of the room, trembling from head to foot with rage as she pushed her rumpled skirt back down over her whitely exposed hips. Bill remained a few moments longer in his kneeling position on the floor, then sighed heavily and climbed up to seat himself in the place on the couch that she had vacated. He stared wordlessly down at his trousers where, beneath a dark wet stain of seminal fluid, his erect penis was rapidly deflating, finally curling up limply in his trouser crotch like a small wounded creature. After what seemed an eternity, he raised his head and opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing and lowered his eyes again in an attitude of distant thought.

From where she stood stiffly near the far wall of the living room, staring out miserably at the steady autumn drizzle outside, Diane began to feel the first stirrings of real guilt, and she imagined how painfully humiliated Bill must feel after her indignant outburst and the abrupt halt she had brought to their love-making. Despite the annoyance she had often felt at his coarse, thoughtless comments during sex acts, she had never actually dared to follow her immediate impulse and walk away from him in plain disgust. But now that she had done it, she felt her heart swell with pity for the young, dark-haired man whom she really did love with all her being. She ransacked her unsettled mind for something comforting to say to him.

"I… I'm sorry, darling. I guess I'm just not in the right mood today," she finally said, her honeyed voice gently breaking the long embarrassing silence between them. But he seemed not to hear her and continued to peer down disconsolately between his legs, his gaze fixed on something secret and known only to him. Then, without warning, he straightened up with a wry, almost sardonic smile illuminating his face.

"Now don't worry, Diane. After this trip, we'll have enough money to buy you a big bed with velvet draperies and gold tassels on it, whatever it is that royalty like you and your family need to sleep on… Maybe then, you'll feel better about my terrible preoccupation with dirty, disgusting money. Who knows," he went on dryly, "you might finally turn into a decent fuck for your husband, despite yourself."

"Oh, Bill!" she cried out in disbelief, shocked by his lewdly cruel comment. Refusing to acknowledge his sadistic sarcasm further, she turned quickly away and stomped off toward their bedroom. As she slammed shut the door, and leaned her unsatiated young body back against it, she heard him call out in a contemptuous voice: "Could you please stir your aristocratic little tail long enough to hand out my suitcase before you lock yourself in? I've still got a business trip to make – if you don't mind too much."

CHAPTER TWO

The next day dawned cool and misty but Diane found herself humming a little tune and smiling, almost in spite of herself, as she moved slowly from pen to pen of the kennel in the early morning dampness, feeding the hungry German Shepherds and cleaning out their living quarters. Just as always, after Bill had left on a business trip, she felt her innate resentment toward the big, thoroughbred dogs fading away in the face of their obvious delight in her presence around them.

"It's not your fault, Sissy," she murmured warmly to a large gold and white bitch who was devotedly licking her hand as she scooped out a generous ration of dog meal into one of the many long feed troughs. "You poor dumb animals don't even realize that you're coming between Bill and me. Oh, God, I sometimes wish you'd manage somehow to dig under the fence and just run away – every last one of you beautiful brutes."

With a resigned sigh and a shrug, Diane rose to her feet again and picked up the heavy bag of meal, slipping out of the wire gate to the bitch's kennel and moving toward the one dog that was left to feed. Wolf, the son of one of the three finest German Shepherd champions in the country, lived in solitary comfort with the biggest shelter and the longest run of the yard to accommodate his sleek, powerful body's need for exercise. Except at mating time, he was seldom allowed to run with the other animals for fear that some mishap might mar the dog's perfect lines, lines that had proved to be worth almost as much in dog show prizes as in stud fees. Wolf was her husband's pride and joy. For that reason, she thought quizzically, Diane could never quite sort out her feelings about the monstrous black and tan beast.

Pulling her trench-coat more snugly around her against the sharp damp chill of the sunless morning, she stared inside the wire-fence enclosure for some sign of the magnificent brute. Like the true aristocrat he was, Wolf often slept later in the mornings than the other dogs, and Bill had frequently warned her not to step into the pen without first announcing her identity to the dog. It was dangerous to surprise him in his sleep because, as her husband had often warned her, his instincts were to attack a stranger, and besides, the dogs were always a little crazy when the bitches were in heat, such as some of them were now. It was several young bitches this time, ones that they had raised from puppies, so they would have to wait one more season before they could be mated. But the worried young dogs did not know that, and neither did the anxious males who had yelped and howled all last night against the fences that separated them from their breeding partners.

Wolf too must have worn himself out with his anguished cries of frustration last night, Diane decided as she reached his compound and saw no sign of him. Letting the heavy bag of dog food rest against her shapely sun-bronzed calf, she reached out and lightly shook the wire gate.

"Wolf. Wolf," she called timidly, preparing herself for the sudden explosion of growling and snapping that always came if he was awakened too quickly. "Wake up, boy. I've got your breakfast."

She could hear nothing over the noise of the other dogs yapping and rough-housing with each other and, half-fearful of the eruption of fierceness she expected at any moment, Diane pressed her young curvaceous body up tighter to the fence and summoned him more loudly: "Wolf, come on out here, boy! Wolf!"

From the inside of his wooden kennel, she thought she heard a low whining, and suddenly fearful, she unlatched the gate and slipped inside, dragging the food bag along behind her before she closed it again. Deliberately walking heavily on the hard-packed earth beneath her shoes, she stepped inside the dog's shelter and gasped with dismay as she saw him curled up on the floor, his great hairy back toward her as he licked frantically at his lower mid-section.

"Wolf, what's the matter with you? Are you all right?" she gasped aloud, alarmed. She took another tentative step forward to see what was wrong with the valuable beast. At the slight movement and the sound of her fresh young voice, the massive creature became aware of her presence in his kennel for the first time and with a menacing growl, he sprang to his feet, whirling around to face her. The girl's breath caught sharply in her throat and she froze involuntarily on the spot as she suddenly saw the real reason for the dog's preoccupation with his lower body.

The mammoth dog's long scarlet penis was glistening wetly as it stood out in full view beneath the hairy curve of his belly, thrusting excitedly in and out of its thick furry sheath, the heavily tapered cock-tip dancing obscenely in the air. My God, she exclaimed inwardly, he had what looked like an almost full erection!

Wolf's bushy tail started to switch rapidly back and forth over his hindquarters, showing his undisguised delight as soon as he recognized the human intruder in his pen, but the expression of pure, unadulterated fear did not leave Diane's face even at his obvious change of attitude. Her sky-blue eyes were wide and round with shock and disbelief as she gazed helplessly at the almost obscene spectacle before her. In the months that she and Bill had owned the kennel, buying and selling and caring for the purebred dogs, the beautiful blonde young woman had sometimes seen such things, but it had always been from the safety of outside the fence – and always a smaller, less imposing animal had been involved. Now, not even four feet away from the sexually excited beast, she stood staring, transfixed, barely able to believe the shocking size of the dog's fully-aroused sex organ. On a man, perhaps its hefty thickness and length would seem normal, or even maybe a little larger than normal, but to see this long scarlet shaft on a dog, a savage hot-blooded animal who probably weighed more than she did, filled her with a quivering dread that she could barely control.

"Lie down, Wolf," she commanded shakily, trying to keep her mounting sense of fear out of her voice. She knew that dogs were able to detect fright in human beings and with a great effort of will, she forced herself to turn her back on the tense-muscled animal and walk slowly out into the center of his run. With trembling fingers, she tore open the top of the feed bag and bent down to hurriedly scoop out a large portion of the rich meal into his food tray. Steeling herself, she resisted the impulse to look back at the dog, and by the time she had filled the tray, she knew that Wolf had obeyed her and remained inside his shelter. Her feeling of apprehension gradually faded to relief as she realized that what she had seen was not really so extraordinary. After all, there were several young bitches in heat in nearby pens, and most of the other male dogs had been behaving a little strangely that morning anyway. No, she told herself, her fear had been completely unjustified, the same kind of selfish hysteria that Bill had often accused her of.

As she closed the feed bag again, she calmly resolved to take a firm hold of herself or she would never be able to make it through three more days alone with the dogs. Even so, before she mustered up enough courage to call Wolf out of his house for the bit of affection that was as much a part of the daily schedule at the Hartley Kennels as was the carefully-chosen food, she cautiously unlatched the gate for a hasty exit if necessary.

At the sound of her voice, the huge, beautifully-formed dog came bounding happily out the door of his shelter. In the split second before he jumped playfully up on her, pinning her with his weight against the wire fence, Diane saw thankfully that his huge penis had withdrawn and disappeared back inside the hairy sheath beneath his loins. She laughed openly and tousled his silky dark ruff as he licked joyfully at her face and long smooth neck. She was still a bit anxious around him but could not help but admire his raw animal magnificence. Standing up on his hind feet, he was strikingly large and feral, exciting. His chest was as broad as a young boy's, and she allowed her eyes to roam from its huskiness down along his fawn-colored belly to the ominous sheath aiming up between his powerful hindquarters. For some reason, the dog's flesh-encased sex organ reminded her of the sight of male penises, ones belonging to the boys she had dated before Bill in college. She remembered how they had jutted up under their trousers during seemingly innocent petting sessions in parked cars – and she also remembered that she had been mysteriously excited. The handsome German Shepherd's ensheathed maleness now had the same alarming fascination about it, like some mighty hidden masculine strength that was threatening and yet oddly thrilling as well.

Suddenly aware of what she was doing, she quickly raised her eyes and stood there in confusion for another long moment, wondering if the dog understood her thoughts. What if, somehow, he knew how intrigued she was by her view of his heavy, animal sperm-filled testicles swaying softly down between his back legs?

It was not until she escaped his playful caresses a few minutes later and slipped regretfully out of his run to carry the meal sack back to the store shed, that she felt something wet dribbling down over her ankle from the calf, something lukewarm in the chill, damp air. Unconcerned, she did not even look down to see what it was until she had placed the heavy bag in the storage building and was walking back across the yard toward the house. Glancing casually down at the drying moistness on the naked skin of her leg, she felt a cold shiver run through her and had to fight to suppress the surge of nausea building up in her stomach.

God, the dog had done something unspeakable during those last few minutes she had spent with him!

She crouched down immediately and plucked a handful of the dew-soaked grass that grew just outside the house, struggling against the revulsion rising in her as she scrubbed frantically at the long white streaks on her calf and ankle. She knew instinctively that the enormous champion dog had somehow managed to leave the stain of his animal lust on her human body and the thought sent strange tremors of sensation racing through her mind. To make matters worse, the bunch of wet grass did nothing more than spread the thick cream-like wetness over her soft skin more widely. With sudden tears of frustration running down her face, she tossed aside the useless grass and raced into the house, heading toward the bedroom where at last she threw herself down on the bed and shook with the half-angry, half-shameful sobs that wracked her whole body.

It was all Bill's fault, she raged to herself, her nerves smarting with indignation. After the carefully-sheltered life she had led, including expensive boarding schools and cultured society, how on earth could he expect her to be able to cope with these obscene animals of his? It was one thing to talk of raising puppies, as they had when they were still in college, but an entirely different thing when it came to enduring the disgusting experience she had suffered only a few minutes ago. Even imagining how the hulking animal's shining red penis must have silently slipped out of its sheath to rub against the unprotected flesh of her naked leg made her quake anew as uncontrollable waves of emotion rippled continuously through her curvaceous young body huddled on the still-unmade bed. The memory of Wolf's dark powerful flanks as they had appeared that morning when he had risen to greet her in his kennel, and the thick pointed rod of flesh that had jabbed lewdly into the air beneath his furry belly, was stamped indelibly into her mind and she cringed into the sheets, trying to erase the appalling vision from her brain.

Then, as she struggled with her shock and hysteria, Diane unthinkingly placed her hand inside her coat to warmly cover her own full breast, a gesture that had often brought her comfort during the days when she was alone in boarding school, far from the security of her home and parents. It was a childish comfort left over from her life before she had met Bill and learned that there was more solace to be found in the touch of a man's hand than her own, but even now her agitated body's reaction to the innocent touch was anything but child-like. An insistent ache suddenly rose deep in her belly, and she was instantly aware of her own soft white limbs, her curved hips and taut buttocks pressing down into the mattress through the fabric of her light coat and cotton dress, her high proud breasts jutting out against the tight confinement of her lacy white brassiere. It took her another moment to wholly understand the fact that she was strangely aroused and the trembling in her body was of excitement and passion, not of shame and anger.

For a panicky moment, Diane scoured her brain for some justification of the unbelievable thing that was happening to her mentally-unprepared body, and she quickly remembered the unsatisfactory love-making session that she had shared with Bill the afternoon before. Of course, that was it, she mused with a breathless surge of relief. Her young husband had aroused her and had then left callously on his business trip while, by her own choice, she had still been locked up in their bedroom, fuming over his cruel sarcasm. It was no wonder that she was aroused this morning, she nervously rationalized to herself. Obviously it was all a result of that disastrous experience yesterday afternoon…

As her slender hands began to roam restlessly over her own warm curving body, she resentfully recalled how loving and considerate Bill used to be when he made love to her – but that was before they had gotten the loan from the bank to buy the kennels! Now, everything in their existence, even their most private sex life, seemed to revolve around those stupid barking animals outside the house. Though she hated to think about it, the newly married young woman had been learning, little by little, to resort more and more often to her own devices to satisfy the natural yearning that always seemed to well up in her body just at a time when her husband was simply too involved in taking care of his dogs to pay much attention to her.

But it did not really matter right now. Paramount in her thoughts were the insistent demands of her sex-starved body, the sharp tingling feeling down between her tightly-clenched thighs. Casting all of her natural inhibitions aside, Diane began to knead her ripely throbbing breasts, pinching the soft pliant nipples into rubbery hardness under her blouse. Then, with a soft, impatient moan, she rose from the bed and began at once to take off her clothes.

In another moment, she stood completely naked in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom, gazing questioningly at her voluptuous, exquisitely formed body. At least, Bill had never been able to complain about the way she looked, the golden-haired girl breathed heavily as she eyed herself approvingly. Flaxen blonde and perfectly proportioned, Diane had long ago grown accustomed to the fact that men automatically thought of sex when they first met her and, to tell the truth, she suspected that her classically beautiful face and desirable body had first attracted Bill to her in college. It had not mattered then, for they had fallen rapidly in love with each other, but now she almost wished that Bill felt a bit more of that electric sexual excitement that had caused their first quarrels when she was still a frightened young virgin.

Now that they were married and Diane had learned some of the exciting delights of physical love, she wondered if perhaps something about her had changed to make him so cold and uncaring. Her worried gaze traveled over her lush young breasts standing firm and high above a waspish hour-glass waist, her full rounded buttocks topping the long sun-golden columns of her perfectly tapered legs. No, there was nothing wrong with her body, she finally decided, and certainly her face with its wide blue eyes and sensuously pouting lips was just as pretty as it ever was. What more could Bill want?

Well, she didn't know, she shrugged, and she did not feel like worrying about it right now. Slowly, she placed her palms under her full, milk-white breasts and lifted them slightly until they hardened out in full bloom. She held the softly pulsating nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, tweaking them gently into erection, a little moan of excitement in her throat. Her left hand began to slide down along her awakening body, down to the flat plane of her sides and across her stomach to rest on her pale blonde pubic mound, pausing there to rub sensuously back and forth over the silky softness of the curling blonde strands of vaginal hair. She could feel the wetness flowing down out of her strangely inflamed pussy on the insides of her smooth ivory thighs, a moisture that was flowing freely now as she edged back to sit down on the bed.

Complete surrender to the warm sexual need building inside her showed in her passion-glazed eyes as her naked buttocks twisted tensely on the mattress, writhing there until she could feel the crisp sheets brush thrillingly against the tender swelling of her cuntal lips. Her long beautiful legs scissored open and closed slowly as she teased herself with the rhythmic pressure of the bedclothes against her tingling clitoris. Her breath quickened and the passionate force of her yearning grew stronger in her hungry loins.

Diane was astounded that she could feel so thoroughly aroused after the disgusting thing that had happened to her this morning but the slight shame she felt only stimulated her all the more. Her lipstick-circled mouth opened in sensual rapture as both of her hands teased lightly over her body as if no longer under her control, floating over her soft sleek belly, then coming to rest once again on the golden vee at the entranceway to her burning loins. Groaning at the sudden contact of her fingers against her sensitively pulsing clitoris, she spread her legs far apart, exposing to the air the glistening hair-lined furrow nestling between them. Her trembling fingers slid down further on the soft swollen lips, pulling them gently outward until the deep pink opening was fully exposed to the open room and the mouth-like orifice throbbed and sucked greedily inward like the mouth of a gulping fish.

Slowly and tenderly, she wormed her slim middle finger into the moist pulsating hole and forced it downward until it was deeply embedded in the tight smooth passageway, while at the same time she flicked at her throbbing bud-like clitoris with the middle finger of the other hand. Afraid to pause as her excitement soared higher, Diane quickly worked in another finger alongside the first, sliding it into herself between the crimson-colored ridges of her desire-drenched cunt, pushing the soft hair-fringed lips outward as she rotated the two fingers in a slow, ever-widening circle. Incoherent images of her husband fucking into her with his long, lance-like cock flashed through her mind and in a frenzy of lust, she levered her legs far back up against her naked breasts and ground her buttocks upwards to meet each penetrating stroke of her fingers. Her face contorted strangely with the soul-jarring effort of her frantic fingering of her open vagina.

It was not enough!

Clenching her teeth tightly together, she squirmed even another finger into her ravenously hungry pussy as it contracted spasmodically around the instruments she was using to give herself pleasure. Deep moans of animal ecstasy issued from her graceful young throat as her loins started a hungry, more rapid fucking rhythm, straining toward a wild blissful orgasm, thrusting upward into herself to bury the invading fingers deep into the tight pink opening between her wide-spread thighs. Her blonde flowing hair rippled sensuously around her rising and falling head as she groaned out in helpless frustration, trying more and more desperately to bring herself to the much-needed pinnacle her body desired.

Suddenly a loud whine seemed to answer her own frantic cries. It was a high-pitched sound from outside the house. Then another howling whine broke through the stillness, and another. She ceased her abandoned movements for a moment, her fingers still buried deep inside her hotly aching cunt, and she raised her head to listen in surprised wonder. From behind the house, she could hear several of the dogs whimpering and yapping, and above it all, came the deeper, huskier timbre of Wolf's voice howling mournfully from his private kennel. She knew that the dogs were only crying because of their yearning to be with the young bitches in heat but she could not discard the strange feeling that somehow the males were answering her own moans of sexual frustration. In her mind, the nakedly squirming young woman pictured Wolf as she had found him that morning, his strong animal body curled up on the floor of his shelter as he licked his naked unsheathed cock with his long slavering tongue.

The great dog, Wolf, seemed to understand the way she felt, the young beauty reasoned vaguely as her long delicate fingers began to twitch again inside the wet, impatiently throbbing walls of her pussy. She thought of the handsome animal that was trapped out there in his locked kennel, his primitive instincts all straining toward the tantalizing scent of the lusting young female bitches in heat that he would not mate with for at least another season. Like him, she was also trapped, a virtual captive in her own house, with a thoughtless husband who seemed to care nothing about his own wife's needs. Secluded as she was this way in the lonely Oak Tree region, she might as well be a sour old widow or a crotchety spinster who has given up on the notion of ever fulfilling her natural female desires. Then, a peculiar thought crossed her mind: if only she too could be a wild bitch in heat just this one morning and join the great champion in his pen, maybe they could both be satisfied. The idea caused an embittered but wicked little smile to twist her pretty mouth.

Suddenly, as her wet fingers pushed in and out of her burning vaginal channel, Diane's cheeks flushed a deep rose color and she felt the long-awaited orgasm approaching, building inexorably with an almost paralyzing force in her hotly squirming belly and in the tortured nerves of her loins. She was teetering on the delicate brink of orgasmic release, her entire youthful body vibrating with maddening expectation.

Then, at last, the dam of her passion spilled over the edge, the hot female juices rushing out of her wide-stretched vaginal lips and around her rhythmically fucking fingers and running down between her hotly quivering thighs onto the sheets beneath her. Her mind whirled crazily and blacked out as the storm of her cumming shocked her system for an endless moment, her throbbing cunt clasping spastically around the fingers inside her that she was using as a pitiful substitute for a hardened male penis.

"Oooooh, God, moooorrrre," she gasped deliriously, her voice crying out and bouncing off the walls of the bedroom, signaling the intense moment of sensuality she was feeling throughout her whole naked being. But gradually the waves of pleasure dwindled, becoming weaker and weaker, until finally she was afraid they were over altogether. The passion-crazed girl wanted more, the real thing, and she stayed glued to the edge of the mattress, her long, sensuously shaped legs bent back crab-like up against her huge billowing breasts. She could not bring herself to withdraw her submerged fingers from the hot wet passage between her upraised thighs until the last dying spasms of orgasm had almost completely stopped in her still-unfulfilled body.

Finally, when the frenzy of the half-satisfying sexual bliss had died away completely, she felt a brief flurry of anger and removed her hand from between her moist thighs, her fingers slithering wetly from her partially-satiated cunt. She lowered herself back until she lay stretched full-length on the rumpled bed and felt her own cum stain cooling where her buttocks pressed against it.

When she had regained her breath a little, she rolled limply over on her side and thought about what she had just done. Every time she had fingered herself since her marriage to Bill, she had always felt a nagging sense of guilt, for she realized that it was shameful and unfair to him to give in to her self-indulgent desires this way. She chastised herself now, feeling guilty and ashamed, until suddenly she remembered the true reason that she had allowed herself to behave so disgracefully this morning. After all, she decided, it was just as much his fault as hers that she had to resort to such humiliating acts to quell the sex drives that sometimes overwhelmed even her normally proper conduct as a decent and respectable young lady. It was not as though she were some kind of sex freak but only that, just like anyone else, she needed to feel loved and desired as a person.

After a few minutes, she raised herself a bit unsteadily from the bed and pulled at the cum-moistened sheets to remove them. When they came free, she dropped them in a heap on the floor, pausing then to notice again the now-dry white crust of the great dog, Wolf's, sperm on the lower part of her leg. She felt her earlier revulsion return for a moment but defiantly shrugged it away. Actually the huge dog had done nothing more immoral than she had done herself right here on the bed, the very bed that she shared with her inconsiderate husband. And Wolf, lusty dumb animal that he was, had every bit as much right to a periodic lack of self-control as she did.

CHAPTER THREE

The next morning promised a pleasant warmth later in the day. As she stood peering out the kitchen window, Diane could see that, although it was still slightly overcast, the sun already shone cautiously through the light blanket of mist over the trees. The woods were a silvery shade of green and she was able to make out several patches of new violet-blue flowers that had blossomed open on the outer fringes of the garden at the side of the house. To add to the peaceful scene, there were perhaps a dozen or so black and yellow songbirds flitting here and there among the branches of the scrub pines just beyond the clearing, warbling like feathered sopranos in the overall symphony of color and sound outside. The young blonde wife could not help but feel buoyant and high-spirited, despite her distress of the day before, and she actually looked forward to going outside to feed and water the dogs.

After draining off the last of the lukewarm coffee still in her cup, she started off toward the main bedroom to change from her heavy yellow bathrobe into a pair of jeans and a warm flannel shirt, but just then the piercing howl of one of the German Shepherds set off the rest of them. Within a minute, the lot of them were barking and whining like a small army of banshees and Diane became so rattled that she decided to attend to them right away, without even bothering to dress first. She knew that they were complaining because it was almost a half hour past their regular feeding time. She had slept a little later than usual, as she sometimes did when Bill was away on business, and the dogs always let her know when she failed to conform to the established schedule.

She hurriedly donned the pair of slippers she had kicked off under the breakfast table while having her first cup of black coffee and headed for the door at the rear of the house. As she descended the steps outside the living room, she was surprised to find that the robe was warm enough to protect her against the mild morning air, even though she wore nothing at all under the garment. A few moments later, she had fetched the weighty sack of dog meal and was within twenty yards of the kennel when the dogs heard her and renewed their ear-splitting din. Even Wolf was awake and pacing back and forth in his run, his louder barking seeming to lead the others on to greater noisy impatience.

"All right, all right, I'm coming," the young flaxen-haired woman muttered irritably under her breath as she lugged the heavy sack across the yard toward the kennels. In the clearing behind the house she saw the dogs bounding about and prancing anxiously in their exercise runs, pawing impatiently at the wire fences as they watched her approach. They were behaving as though they had not been fed in a week, she thought crossly, as at the same time she struggled to keep her robe closed and the dog meal from spilling out of her arms. God, if they only knew about all the dinners that she had prepared, ones that had waited for hours on the table until they were cold, while Bill was out here doctoring one of their running noses – or whatever it was he did for so long in the kennels – maybe they would not be so loud and demanding.

"Hush up, Daisy. Quiet now, Gypsy," Diane sternly admonished two gangly half-grown bitches as she approached their pen and unlatched the gate. They were two of the ones who were in heat, two of the females who had indirectly caused her distressing ordeal with Wolf the day before. The flaxen-haired girl scowled grouchily as she slipped through the barely-opened screen-gate and quickly kicked it shut behind her. Ignoring their enthusiastic lickings and jostlings, she filled their trays with meal and walked back to the gate. The two fledgling dogs were virtual balls of energy but they soon forgot her presence as they went to work on their breakfast. Watching them for a moment, she felt her heart soften toward them in spite of the rumbles of hunger in her own stomach. She knew that these magnificent purebreds were altogether dependent upon her while Bill was away and, ironically enough, it made her feel rather maternal to realize it. She moved hastily to let herself out and go on to the next enclosure full of hungry animals.

Kennel by kennel, she filled the feed troughs and the dogs quieted then as they heartily gulped down their slightly tardy breakfast. Finally, only Wolf was left to attend to. The irritation that she had felt a few moments ago faded with the diminishing racket from the other dogs as she stood watching Wolf's antics, smiling to herself as he whined and scratched at the fence enclosing his run.

"Don't worry, boy," she consoled in a light mocking tone as she set the open feed bag to one side so that she could pull open the latch to his pen. "Your royal majesty's breakfast has arrived."